#but i do have to ration myself with listening to it because it sure does send me into a spiral lmao

[rainingincale]

im so good at crashing in. making sparks and shit but then. im a bad. im a bad. im a bad friend. so dont ask me where ive been. been avoiding everything. cause im a bad. im a bad. im a bad friend.

[sen-ya]

part 5/7

is it silly that this is my favorite in this series? i really enjoyed writing kaya and I wanna do it again at some point :')

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] panel 2: Kaya: Oh! Dr. Law! I didn't expect to find you in our library.

panel 3: Law: K-Kaya-ya!

panel 4: Law: Uh. Ahem. Excuse me. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your books.

panel 5: Kaya: Oh of course not! I'm just shocked to hear we have books you don't! What are you studying?

panel 6: Law: UHHHHH

[pg2] panel 10: Kaya: Oh! Is someone on your crew pregnant? Ikkaku??

panel 11: Law (thinking): She doesn't know Ikkaku is trans. Does she not know that I am?? I just assumed Nose-ya would have mentioned it. But that makes sense. If Straw Hat didn't already know Nose-ya was trans it's not like I would have told him.

panel 12: Kaya: ...?

panel 13: Law (thinking): Fuck, I've been quiet too long. I can't throw Ikkaku under to bus. Just say something.

panel 14: Law: No. Kaya: Oh. Then why...? Law (thinking): Wait, shit

[pg3] panel 15: Law: My, uh...brother...'s...wife. Yeah, we're taking him back to Zou soon...because his wife is pregnant...and I...want...to help...?

panel 16: Kaya: Oh, how sweet! Congrats "Uncle Law" hehe. If you have any questions I could help with let me know!! I specialized in traumatic injury, but I did deliver a few babies in Syrup Village! On smaller islands like that you wear a lot of hats.

panel 17: Law: And you've...been pregnant. Kaya: Well, yeah, but I wasn't my own doctor! Could you imagine if I had tried to deliver the twins myself? Even a doctor needs a doctor, you know that.

panel 18: Law: ...right.

panel 19: Law: ...what...what was it like?

panel 20: Kaya: Oh, my pregnant patients were actually pretty fun! I suppose it makes sense that as a pirate ship doctor you wouldn't have had to know obstetrics. But it was always so lovely to hand a parent their--

[pg4] panel 21: Kaya: ...newborn...baby...?

panel 23: Kaya: ...I'm sorry, Dr. Law. If there's context I need you'll have to give it to me. I'm not good at guessing.

panel 24: Law: What do you mean, I just gave you context. Kaya: With all due respect, you're full crying. It's a new sight for me!

panel 25: Kaya: You can tell me what's going on! I'm told I'm a very good listener

panel 26: Law: ...You Straw Hats sure are a pain Kaya: Sorry, hehe

panel 28: Law: ...I...ahem...so number one, if you didn't know...I'm...I'm trans.

panel 29: Law: But not like your husband. He got the works from Ivankov-ya...I never felt the need to seek that out.

[pg5] panel 30: Kaya: ...I see

panel 31: Kaya: How far along are you? Law: ..12 weeks, give or take. Kaya: Well, I've provided obstetric care of all kinds. So whatever questions you're researching here...why don't you ask me instead of being your own doctor?

panel 32: Law: ...Same question. What was it like?

panel 33: Kaya: Being pregnant was a horror show!

panel 34: Law: A glowing review. Kaya: Oh, sorry! I can lie if you'd prefer!

panel 35: Kaya: I was just so sick my first trimester! Law (speaking over her): KAYA-YA I THOUGHT I WAS DYING FOR TWO WEEKS WHEN WILL IT STOP I CAN ONLY EAT RICE.

panel 36: Kaya: It's different for everyone. By the end it wasn't quite so bad for me, though. And I love my kids so much. They were such cute newborns!! So I was alright being uncomfortable for awhile. Because that's what we wanted, you know?

panel 37: Kaya (off screen): What do you and Luffy want, Dr. Law?

[pg6] panel 38: Law: ...We haven't decided yet. We're giving it to the end of the week. I'm trying to think about it rationally. But I just keep getting emotional any time I talk about it. It's strange.

panel 39: Kaya: An emotional decision and a bad decision aren't inherently synonymous, you know.

panel 40: Law: ...your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Kaya-ya. Kaya: Well, thank you! Next time let's meet in the infirmary, mine or yours.

panel 41: Kaya: I'll be your doctor through this, okay?

panel 42: Law: ...Okay...Thank you. Kaya: Of course!

[sunnyaalisse]

Wanna know how to manage anxiety effectively? (I'm a psychologist) Formulate your anxious thoughts in a form of "What Will I Do if X happens?" and then answer as best as you can. You will find that there are 4 main types of situations your anxiety might be asking about: 1) nonsensical, unlikely, useless (WWID if I get kidnapped by a UFO?) 2) rational, predictable (WWID if I get a bad grade?) 3) rational, unpredictable (WWID if I go to a new job and something bad happens?) 4) unpredictable and uncontrolled (WWID if I get attacked on my way home?) Here's how to deal with each type: 1) unlikely, useless, nonsensical? answer it like the person who's asking you this question is a 13 year old child who's trying to annoy you. "that would suck, Timmy, but it sure would make a cool story that I would tell to anybody who would listen if I survived" 2) rational, predictable? make a date with this question. find time to sit down and legitimately think of a plan on what you're going to do. "I'll go talk to the teacher, ask what I can do to improve my grade, then I'll talk to my friends and ask them to explain the topic to me, then I'll talk to my parents and explain the situation if they're interested in hearing about it" 3) rational, unpredictable? you don't have to answer it in a detailed way, just decide on the first few things you will realistically do in any sort of distressful situation. "I'll call my friend and tell them about my situation, then I'll buy myself some ice-cream and figure out my next steps with the help of relevant people, google and determination." 4) uncontrolled? plan for what happens after the part you can't control, once you're in charge again. "I'll call the police, I know where the nearest hospital is, I have my friend's numbers memorised so I'll call them, either way I'll deal with whatever happens once I'm in control" anxiety related to the events that already happened (I said "you too" to the waiter who said "have a good meal") truly means to ask about either the consequences (what if now they think I'm dumb?) or the repeating of the situation (what if I do it again?). you can still reformulate these questions the same way: "WWID if they treat me like I'm stupid next time I'm there?" and "WWID if I say the same thing again, how can I make it charming?" or "WWID to avoid repeating the same situation again, what can I say instead?" anxiety is a mechanism that means to fill the gaps in a person's perception of their future, it seeks clarity, stability, normalcy and control. It doesn't need to clarify IF the situation will happen, it needs to clarify how the situation will be DEALT WITH if it does happen. unanswered "what will I do if..." questions tend to become a broken record because the need for clarity is not fulfilled. more often than not if the needs for clarity and normalcy are fulfilled, anxiety lets up. even questions like "WWID if I die?" can be answered: "if there's an afterlife I'll try to punch god" or "I'll ask if they have soda here" or "if there's no afterlife I'll do nothing, but the world will go on without me, complex, busy and beautiful" also, since anxiety can be caused by physical factors like exhaustion and overuse of caffeine, dealing with these factors could be very helpful. this type of anxiety doesn't come from the mind, it comes from the body, so grilling yourself with questions won't help in this case. rest, nourishment and sleep will do a lot of good though.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

By Peter Rosenstein

I will surely be challenged for these views, not the least being called ageist. But as someone older myself, I am comfortable with that. It is not that I think older people are not fully capable of functioning at a very high level; they are. I just believe we must let the next generations, who will be living much longer with the results of what government does, have more of a role in determining what that is.

Based on what we have seen of this Supreme Court, its willingness to overturn decades of precedent, the time has come to expand the court for a rational balance. In addition, we should set 24-year term limits for justices, or retirement at 80, whichever comes first. Changing the number of people on the court is not a new idea. The number of persons on the Supreme Court has been changed six times since our country was founded. The U.S. Constitution is silent about how many justices should sit on the Supreme Court.

“After the Civil War and Lincoln’s assassination, Congress clashed with Lincoln’s successor, Andrew Johnson, who was rapidly undoing the ‘Radical Republicans’ plan for Reconstruction. To limit Johnson’s power, Congress passed legislation in 1866 that cut the number of Supreme Court justices back to seven, all but assuring that Johnson wouldn’t have the opportunity to fill a vacant seat. The last time Congress changed the number of Supreme Court justices was in 1869, again to meet a political end. Ulysses S. Grant was elected president in 1868 with the backing of congressional Republicans who hated Johnson. As a gift to Grant, Congress increased the number of justices from seven back to nine, and Grant gamely used those picks.”

On today’s Supreme Court, Clarence Thomas has now served 32 years, and Roberts and Alito, 19 years each. Then there was Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She was 87, and had served 27 years, when she died, clinging to her seat when it was known how ill she was.

It is only recently I have come to this conclusion regarding the Supreme Court, and on term and age limits for the Congress. We are seeing too many older men, and women, cling to power. They may still have the mental acuity to perform their jobs, but entire generations aren’t serving because they refuse to leave. There is incredible power in incumbency, and we are seeing it abused.

We are asking young people to vote for candidates old enough to be their grandparents, or great-grandparents. Some say they should revolt and change that. But the fact is, so much money is now in the game, the unlimited amount people can spend on their own campaigns, and collect from others, makes that nearly impossible. It’s rare to be able to fight incumbency and wealth.

Yes, it can happen, as in the case of Maryland Congressman David Trone (D-Md.), who is 68, and tried to buy a United States Senate seat in Maryland with $60 million of his own money. He lost his primary to Angela Alsobrooks, who is 53, whose campaign had less than a tenth of that. But she was a known entity, and elected official, in her own right.

Today, in the 100-member United States Senate, there is one senator over 90, four over 80, and another 10 over 70. I propose we set a limit of four terms, or 24 years, and mandatory retirement at 80. In the House of Representatives, which now has 11 members over 80, and 62 over 70, I would recommend a 12-term limit, or 24 years, and mandatory retirement at 80.

I have had conversations with many young people, and listened to their frustrations with their ability to move forward in politics. Many see the world differently than I do, and my belief is they are entitled to be making the decisions that will impact their lives, and not have the older generations continue to do so. I think being in office for 24 years is enough time to make a difference, and to accomplish what you wanted to do when you ran for office. And if you couldn’t do it, it is time to allow the next generations to try.

The desire to cling to power is natural. For many, the fear of retirement, and not knowing what they will do with their lives, is scary. I think one must plan for that, even politicians. They need to accept they can make a difference, even if not in office, if they really want to.

[byersbootyshorts]

hi! can you please write a fic about clingy bf spencer reid? i would love it! thank you!!

Just a Phone Call Away (S.R.)

Spencer's knee injury means he's stuck at Quantico while the rest of the team go off to hunt an unsub. And he does not cope well with being away from you for long.

Word Count: 1,986

Warnings: clingy!s5!Spencer, gn!reader, fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, gun shot

this was such a good request omg

“Reid, I’m sorry but you’re staying here,” Hotch ordered. Spencer’s face contorted into an annoyed expression.

“Hotch, come on. I’m fine,” he argued. “The doctor said if my knee didn’t hurt I could still fly.”

“I don’t care what your doctor said,” Hotch said sternly. “You are not getting on our jet with your knee in a brace. You’ll stay here and help Garcia. That’s an order.”

Spencer slumped in his chair, defeated.

“Spencer, I’ll be fine,” you urged him. You were about to get on the jet and leave Spencer in Virginia. Since the two of you had started dating you’d never been apart for long. Being on the same team made that possible. But now that Spencer was being forced to stay behind while you left to hunt an unsub, he realised just how much he dreaded being away from you.

“Yeah, but what if you get hurt?” he asked.

“We’ve been in the field together more times than I can count. Why the sudden concern for my safety?” you replied.

“Because I won’t be there this time. If you get hurt there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Spence, I’m not a child. I can handle myself,” you smiled and pulled him into your embrace.

“I’ll miss you,” Spencer mumbled into your shoulder.

“You’re so soppy,” you teased him. “But I’ll miss you too. And remember, I’ll just be a phone call away.”

Spencer watched miserably as the jet took off and flew you far away from him. He didn’t realise how much of a co-dependent person he was until he met you. The thought of you potentially being in a life threatening situation while he sat uselessly with his knee in a brace made him feel physically sick.

The wheels of the jet had barely left the runway when your phone chimed. You picked it up and chuckled when you saw the message.

I love you. Please be safe. ❤️

You quickly typed a reply.

Only if you promise to rest your knee. I love you too <3

Emily noticed you smiling down at your phone and asked, “Is that Spencer?”

“Yeah,” you responded. “We’ve only been apart for 30 minutes and he’s already worried about me.”

“He’s clingy, huh?” Emily said.

“Incredibly.”

The flight wasn’t long and soon you, JJ and Rossi were settled in a cramped conference room in the local police department. As usual, Hotch had called Garcia on the plane to give the briefing. This time Spencer sat beside her on the small laptop screen. Hotch had told you all what to do when you landed and instructed Spencer to work on victimology back at Quantico.

When you saw his name pop up on your phone you assumed he’d found some connections between the victims. You put your phone on speaker so your teammates could hear before answering.

“Hey, you got something?”

There was a pause before Spencer spoke.

“Uh, no, not yet. I was just calling to make sure you landed safely.”

“It was a very smooth landing, Reid. No complaints,” Rossi said and JJ laughed. Your face blushed red and you grabbed your phone to turn it off speaker.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was on speaker,” Spencer’s voice crackled over the line.

“It’s ok. It’s just me now,” you said, walking out of the conference room. “Did you really just call to see if I got here ok.”

“Of course I did,” Spencer said as if it was obvious. “What if the jet crashed? I just wanted to make sure you were safe.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Spencer was one of the most rational people you knew. But when it came to you he was so illogical it was laughable.

“Well, Spence, I’m fine,” you told him. “Listen, I have to go. Call me if you find anything.”

Spencer said goodbye and you hung up.

Hotch had sent you and Rossi to interview one of the victims families later that day. You were in the middle of listening to the mother of the victim talk about her son when your phone started ringing. When you saw that it was Spencer you excused yourself and stepped out into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, not wanting to miss much of the interview.

“Hey, can you talk?” Spencer asked plainly.

“Uh, not really,” you said confused. He knew you were working. Why would he think you could talk? “Why? Do you need something?”

“No, I just wanted to hear your voice,” he said softly. “But it’s ok if you’re doing something.”

“Sorry, Spence, we’re interviewing a victim’s family,” you apologised. “But I’ll call you later. I promise.”

“Ok, I love you.”

“I love you too. Bye,” you said before hanging up and going back to the interview.

You got to the hotel the team were staying at pretty late that night. You had just showered and were about to call Spencer as you promised when your phone rang. Of course it was Spencer.

“Hey, I was just about to call you,” you said when you answered.

“Oh, good, you’re ok. It was getting late and I was starting to get worried,” Spencer quickly rambled.

“Oh my God, please stop worrying about me,” you said a little sharply. “I just lost track of time at the police department. You don’t have to call me every two seconds.”

“I’m sorry,” Spencer said with a small voice. “I can’t help it.”

You sighed to calm yourself down. It was cute that he cared so much about you. But the constant calls were starting to wear you down a little.

“I know. And I’m sorry too. I should be more appreciative that you worry about me.”

You were both silent for a moment. You regretted snapping at Spencer. You knew how clingy he was after all. A few seconds passed before Spencer broke the silence.

“Can we switch to facetime?” he asked. You raised an eyebrow.

“Sure, but why?”

“I want to see you,” he explained.

You hastily switched the call to facetime and his face appeared on your screen. It was dark aside from the dim glow of the lamp beside his bed. His hair was pulled back and still slightly damp.

“You happy now?” you said, smiling at him.

“Very,” he replied.

Your mouth opened into a wide yawn and Spencer’s face dropped.

“You’re tired,” he observed. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, it’s ok. It’s just been a long day,” you replied. But as you spoke you yawned again. “Ok, maybe I am tired,” you admitted.

“Can we stay on facetime when we fall asleep?” Spencer asked shyly. You let out a short giggle at his suggestion.

“You really can’t live without me, can you?” you asked with a smirk.

“Nope,” Spencer said. “And I’m not ashamed of it.”

You set your phone on the pillow beside you and drifted off to sleep. Spencer stared at you long after you’d lost consciousness, just listening to your breathing and imagining you were really there beside him.

The next day Spencer didn’t stop incessantly calling you. He called you in the morning. He called you when you were delivering the profile. He called you when you were driving to a suspect’s house. You tried your best to see the good in it but if he unnecessarily called you one more time you were afraid you were going to lose it.

You and Emily had just arrived at a suspect’s house. This man had been spotted near two of the crime scenes just minutes before the murders. You were betting he was your unsub. You knocked on his door but no one answered. That’s when Emily noticed a shed around the back of the house. You followed her towards it but stopped abruptly when your phone started vibrating in your pocket. You swore under your breath when you saw Spencer’s name on the screen. You told Emily you’d only be a minute and answered your phone.

“Spencer, I love you but please for the love of God do not call me for the next few hours,” you snapped.

“Actually, I was calling to tell you you’re definitely at the unsub’s house. His prints match the ones found at the crime scene,” Spencer said bluntly. You could hear the offence in his voice.

“Oh,” you said, cursing yourself for letting your anger get the better of you. “Well, thanks. Sor-,”

You were interrupted by a gun shot that made you jump out of your skin. You quickly blurted out, “Spence, I have to go,” before hanging up.

It turned out the gun shot came from Emily’s gun. The unsub had snuck up on you while you were on the phone and was about to shoot you before Emily pulled her gun on him. Now, you were on your way back home. The case was closed. You’d tried calling Spencer multiple times before getting on the plane but he wasn’t picking up. You figured he was angry at you for losing your temper.

When you finally touched down at Quantico the first thing you did was go looking for Spencer. You didn’t find him at his desk so you headed towards Garcia’s office.

“Hey, have you seen Spencer?” you asked when you entered. “I’ve been calling him but he hasn’t been picking up.”

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” she said, surprised.

“Hear, what?”

“Well, when Spencer heard that gun shot over the phone he didn’t know if you were ok,” Garcia began. “He started panicking and the idiot got up without his crutches and fell over.”

Your jaw dropped. “Is he ok?” you questioned.

“I took him to the hospital and the doctor said he should be on bed rest for the next few weeks, but he’s fine,” Garcia explained. “He probably hasn’t called you because he’s sleeping.”

“Ok, thanks Penelope,” you said, relieved to know Spencer was ok.

You got to Spencer’s apartment as fast as you could and used the key he gave you to let yourself in. You headed straight towards his bedroom and opened the door just a crack. When you peeked inside you saw Spencer lying sprawled out on top of the covers, his knee covered in a new bandage and brace. The steady rise and fall of his chest told you that he was in fact sleeping as Garcia had said.

You quietly made your way to the bed and sat down beside him. Leaning down, you placed a gentle kiss on his forehead and whispered his name.

He sniffed and stirred from his slumber. When he registered who was sitting next to him his eyes immediately lit up.

“You’re back,” he croaked, sleep still evident in his voice. “Are you ok? I heard a gun shot.”

“I’m fine,” you told him. “Never better.”

Spencer grabbed your hand so tightly he cut off your blood flow.

“I was right when I said you can’t live without me,” you laughed.

“Being away from you almost killed me,” he replied.

���Well, you got that right. You got put on bed rest.”

Spencer suddenly buried his head in your chest. “I missed you so much,” he murmured into your shirt.

“I missed you too, baby,” you said, kissing his forehead once more.

Spencer’s arms wrapped so tightly around you, you could barely move. He practically glued himself to you. You had planned on taking a shower and changing out of your work clothes but he had you in such a chokehold that all you could do was lie down beside him as he wrapped himself around you even more. He breathed in your scent and immediately started to melt into you, as though all the tension in his body vanished in your presence.

“Please, don’t ever leave me again,” he said.

“I won’t. I promise,” you whispered, stroking his hair as he fell asleep, happy to be in your arms again.

[live-laugh-legolas]

Thanks for your headcannons! How about a sketch where Gandalf, for example, helps fem! reader to cope with anxiety/insomnia and how the rest of the fellowship react to it (but only if it's not difficult for you)

I’ve just focused on the anxiety part of this prompt because I have struggled with anxiety my whole life so I feel more comfortable writing about it

I feel like some of these just turned into me giving advice based on my own experiences so please remember I am a very unqualified unprofessional and I love my therapist and suggest everyone get themselves one (as a little treat, you deserve it 💕)

The Fellowship x reader w/anxiety

Aragorn:

-He is very understanding and patient

-Doesn’t let you be embarrassed about your worries

-If you brush off your worry by asking questions about something similar that feels more “reasonable” to you he will gently call you out

-“what are you actually worried about?”

-Your anxiety might not be rational to others but I feel like anxiety rarely is; it’s still valid no matter what and he makes sure you know this

Legolas:

-He doesn’t fully understand it

-And by that I mean he doesn’t understand why some people’s brains just don’t work quite right

-Why would your brain trigger a fear response when there is no threat? Is that a mortal thing?

-Although he is confused a bit he will never judge you for being anxious

-He doesn’t even really think twice about what your anxiety is about; he just wants to help

-He quickly picks up on the fact that sometimes there isn’t really anything he can do except be there for you

-Awkwardly brings you water

-He will keep you company if you can’t sleep because he doesn’t sleep anyway

Gimli:

-He will tell you that he will fight any thing that worries you

-He kinda takes an approach of “I’m going to be over the top so they can see that it not something worth worrying over”

-This is not a mocking sort of thing; I want to make that clear; he is not going to tell you that there is nothing to worry about, he hopes you will come to that conclusion with his comedic support

-He will also give you pep talks like he gave himself before going into the Paths of the Dead (I think that was what it was called; the cave with the cursed ghosts)

-I love his softer moments and I think he would lean into this and be a teddy bear and a solid rock ya know?

-He suggests drinking ale if you can’t fall asleep but you have to tell him blacking out isn’t a healthy way to fall asleep (personally I don’t like the taste of alcohol but it does make me really sleepy. I am of age though; don’t underage drink even if Gimli offers it to you)

Boromir:

-“well what is the worst thing that will happen if (insert worry here)?”

-He takes the approach of “this is your worry and this is every way we will handle it should it come to fruition”

-I know this might not be a particularly great way to handle anxiety but I will say to myself “ok the worst thing that happens is you die. Welp if you die then at least you won’t be stressed anymore and don’t have to go to work in the morning”

-It has just allowed me to find some peace with things out of my control

-Basically he will help you find things you can control in your life and help you accept the things you can’t

Frodo:

-He is a really calm person in general and he is also super patient

-He will listen to any and every worry you have even if you have repeated the same worried question multiple times

-He will remind you to bring something of comfort with you; like your favorite hoodie; if you are going to do something out of your comfort zone or that might trigger your anxiety

-Sam is prone to anxiety at times and he has learned how to help him get out of his head a bit and he does the same for you

-I think he will just hand you something to fiddle with as a small distraction and to get a little energy out; and if nothing is available he will give you his hand or let you play with his hair

Sam:

-He takes a very hands on approach; and by that I mean he knows your common anxieties and helps you to avoid anything that will bring them on

-Will throw a heavy blanket on you if you start to panic

-He’s a little stressed while trying to calm you down just because he wants you to feel better

-He also has some anxiety so he sympathizes; you guys can reassure each other

-If you take meds he will make sure you take them even if he has to hold you down and pill you like a dog

Merry:

-My parents always told my sister and I that “they will tell us if there is something to worry about”

-Merry does this

-He tries to “train” you like a dog with a treat to come and ask him if you should be worried so he can tell you yes or no

-He obviously won’t do this if you don’t get a laugh out of it; he doesn’t want you to think he is making fun of you

-And he will be honest; if it he doesn’t know he will check it out before confirming if you should be worried about it or not

-He teaches you breathing techniques and grounding exercises

Pippin:

-This hobbit is super empathetic and will pick up on your anxiety really quick

-He’s subtle with his comfort though

-Will make excuses for you both to leave a situation without putting any attention on you

-He can be oblivious at times, but never to your emotions

-Does the “nose boop” or something silly to catch you off guard if you start to panic which can help pull you out of that headspace

Gandalf:

-Will tell you some wise shit about how everything experiences stress and how everything ends up working out

-“You are more than your fears. Don’t let your fear control you”

-I just think about the scene when he is talking to Frodo about wishing the ring didn’t come to him

-He will pass you his pipe because he smokes his troubles away; but how’s that going for ya Gandalf? *insert scene of him choking on the smoke but he keeps going despite Pippin looking like he thinks he will die any second*

———————————————————————

I have realized I talk a lot about myself and reference my parents and experiences when I’m writing these. Do y’all find that weird or annoying to read? I have found it sometimes is the easiest way to explain where the headcanon idea came from. But I also don’t want to bore anyone with my wordy explanations

[borderlinereminders]

Identifying and clarifying emotions can be really helpful in learning how to cope with them.

For me, I start with “what just triggered this feeling?” No matter how small it was. Even if it was just a minor thing that unraveled a bigger issue. Maybe it’s something like your friend didn’t reply to you when you thought they would. Maybe your friend said something that unintentionally hurt your feelings.

I then focus on “what physical feelings do I have?” For example, is my heart racing? Do my hands feel shaky? Does my stomach feel like it’s turning? All of the above could indicate I’m feeling anxious. Where things like clenching your fist or feeling “hot” could indicate anger. Take a note of what you’re feeling physically and if you aren’t sure what it might indicate, looking it up might help!

The next thing I ask myself is “what urges is this feeling giving me?” If I’m feeling like yelling at someone, this could indicate anger. If I’m feeling like hiding under my blankets, this could indicate anxiety. If I’m feeling like sobbing on the floor, this could indicate grief, sadness or something like that.

Once you’ve identified your feeling(s), you can start to look at ways to deal with it. A lot of times, our urges to deal with the feelings aren’t the things we should do.

Skills like urge surfing can help with this and working on some grounding exercises might help clear your head to rationally figure out your next step. This might be where we look at how to deal with the feeling. Maybe to deal with the feeling of sadness, we need to let ourselves cry. Maybe to deal with rage, we need to scream into a pillow. Everyone is different and every situation is different but the goal is to find a way to deal with the feeling.

Another skill I usually find useful in dealing with feelings is the wise mind skill. This helps me figure out how to proceed in a situation like something a friend said unintentionally that upset me.

If I’m feeling frustrated with my friend for not replying, I may step back and look at the situation. I may be feeling frustrated because I feel like they’re ignoring me so I then consider the possibility of an alternate explanation. Could they be busy? Possibly overwhelmed? Could there be an explanation that isn’t about them ignoring me?

Another thing I ask myself is “what can I do to feel something else?” For this, I have a list of things on my phone that I know make me happy. Things like cute animal videos, my favourite songs to listen to, etc. I keep the list because these things can be hard to remember when other feelings are so strong. But a lot of the time, doing something in the list can help me get beyond the other feeling. While we do need to deal with our feelings, sometimes it isn’t the time or place and it’s better for us to focus on something else for the time being. This can also help us be able to look at the situation more rationally once we’re not so caught up in the feelings about it.

I think I could go on and on about ways to deal with different feelings, but this post is getting very long already, so I’ll leave it here.

[solargeist]

I may have just tried to find as much evoau and xelqua content as I could find. All very lovely, took me a few hours to get through. I wanted to ask, in your au what caused the moon to fall? I think in canon there isn't really an explanation so wanted to know if the watchers caused it when they found Grian or if it just fell because. (Your au is so cool!!! Thank you for all the lovely art and stories my brain has been fed wonderfully)

oh man oh man, thank u ! Glad ur enjoying it ^_^ 🫶

Uhmmmm that’s actually something I ask myself a bit !!!! I’m not exactly sure what’s the best way to go abt the moon, I think (adult, regular) Xelqua doing it would make the most sense…

He possesses Grian after taunting him through the void/Boatem hole for awhile, making him distressed and a little bit crazy. Xelqua breaks the server code, and then pulls the moon, perhaps ? That’d get the attention of the Watchers, such chaos. (Plus the imagery mimics Majora and Ocarina, I like that.)

Back when that Moon episode first went up, I remember a lot of non-hermitcraft fans watching it like wtf is happening in hermitcraft ?? I imagine the Watchers are like that Lol.

Usuallyyyy Xelqua would help a distressed Grian out, but it doesn’t take much for him to figure out this is the one that started everything. Xelqua can see his player code and see he’s a Watcher, and can figure out the rest by context clues, so he’s just gotta mess with him. He’s still a Watcher after all, that divine sense of justice… But he does also rationalize that he IS helping Grian, these players don’t even know what he is ! Mumbo and Pearl confront Xelqua the most I think, both knowing exactly what Watchers are.

This does lead to the Watchers finding out where Grian is, and I don’t know all the details but Xelqua does fight with them and the Hermits. Aether and Flora end up there as well, since Grian was their responsibility, it’s only fair they’re alerted and asked what they want to do with him. If it were only Flora, she would’ve taken his eyes, other Watchers agree, it’s a pretty common thing to do to Listeners, but Aether gets final calls with Grian and she’s not gonna do that 😭

Otherrr stuff…. They (hermits or watchers or both) get Xelqua expelled from Grian (I have no details here), and then he escapes through the Boatem hole, a few Watchers probably go after him but it’s rly not a good idea. I think Grian and Aether get to talk. The moon is still going to fall and destroy their server, they still have to leave, Grian still has to have some sort of consequences for what happened, and he’s still exiled. They talk for a long time, Grian drags it on, almost afraid to go back and explain himself to the Hermits, he can see it clearly in his head, they’ll want to exile him too, then he really won’t have anywhere to go-

The Hermits do not exile him, he was just panicking a little bit. He’s genuinely surprised when they include him in their server escape plan. The rest goes how it goes. Tho Grian has to explain himself to them later.

The Hermits are however also banned and exiled from Watcher domaines by extension.

Xelqua follows them to s9, staying undercover for awhile just watching, they really are interesting to him. He scares the shit out of Grian when he finally decides to show himself, but ! No possession this time ! Promise !

I don’t know if any of that is lame or disappointing or not, I haven’t seen s8 in a long time and it’s something I’d like to rewatch and check other POVs, so this is just what I imagine right now, it’s probably the most difficult part of the AU for me AUGH

[donteattheappleshook]

(not so) young, drunk and alone 1/1

“Swan, it’s me. ‘M so sorry I ‘avnent called for… September, October, Nov… three months. Shit that’s too many months. ‘M sorry but I need your help. The sherrffeff won’t let me leave. He says you have to pick me up - well not you but ‘ynow someone. I don’t know anyone else. Oh! It’s Killian by the way. Killian Jones. I don’t know how many Killians you know but I’m that one. The dickhead who ghosted you. ‘Nway, if you could call me back that would be just - awesome. Yur prolly not gonna call me back. I wouldn’t call me back. ‘Nway… yeah. It’s Killian. Thanks.” 

(We'll give this a light M)

Oh hey, it's me, neglecting all the WIPs for something new.

This fic is a little birthday present to myself. It's completely ferral and I had very little control over it but I listened to Dial Drunk on repeat for 3 days and then this happened. This fic is unbetaed but thank you @the-darkdragonfly for answering all my texts and rambling calls while I was writing it!

A Silver hook story because apparently everything I write is now...

Read it on Ao3 (where my italics work)

******

(not so) young, drunk and alone

She shouldn’t be allowed to look at him like that. Not with a smirk caught between her teeth in a way that makes his throat dry and his pulse race. Not with the barely restrained promise of a laugh he’s sure would come out in different company that makes his face burn and and his eyes unable to meet hers. He can’t look at her when she looks like that, and she’s looking at him like that, and he looks - he assumes not great. 

So he focuses on the floor instead. The floor is safe. The floor doesn’t stir up conflicting and confusing feelings he’s managed to ignore for the better part of a year. The floor doesn’t make him question every terrible decision he’s made in his life that led him to this exact moment. The floor is… moving. It’s not supposed to do that. Although that’s likely the booze, he rationalizes. But the floor isn’t interested in being rational so Killian lets his forehead fall against the bars he’s already holding onto in an attempt to stay upright. The bars are nice, they’re cool and solid and it slows the spinning in his head a fraction.

“Big night?”

He takes a full ten seconds, counted slowly, and a few deep breaths before raising his head again and facing that smirk. It doesn’t help. The absolute delight in her eyes delivers the same gut-punch it always does - even if it’s at his expense - and the soft blonde curls that have fallen from her probably hastily pulled up bun make him ache to reach out and brush them away from her face just so he can feel the strands between his fingers. 

He shouldn’t have called her. He knew it was a mistake when he did it. He should have just let the sheriff keep him in this bloody cell. It’s not as if he hadn’t slept it off a night or two in another cell in another town throughout his youth. But he’s not so youthful now and the sight of the cold, hard bench, the thought of his aching back and the copious amounts of rum still coursing through his blood had been enough to send him over the edge into madness apparently. So he’d pressed the blurry little “absolutely not” in his contacts and called the only person he knew in this whole bloody city.

“Swaann.” He attempts a smile but it turns into a wince as he manages to slur the single word. When he works up to meeting her eyes again - so green, like the sea glass he used to collect on the beach when he was a boy and that takes his breath away every time - there’s a bit of pity mixed in with the amusement. 

He feels pretty pitiful. Forty-five and so stumbling drunk that he’d been tossed out of the pub and into a police car, only to be forced to face the one person he’d hoped the rum would chase from his mind. He’s too old to be acting like this. Even with his wits sloshing around in the drink he’d tried to drown them with he knows he’s too old to be acting like this. When you’re young, it’s funny, an anecdote for another time - spending the night in the drunk tank. When you’re his age, it’s just pathetic. 

“Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Her voice is sweet, with a laugh still hiding somewhere behind it, and it’s the first sound since he was brought here that hasn’t made his head feel like it was being scratched at from the inside. 

“You shouldn’t’ve come here. S’the middle of the night,” he tells her. She doesn’t belong in this sad little room in this sad little jail with the lightbulb that keeps flickering in and out. Still, he can’t stop the stupid smile that finds residence on his face whenever she’s near - because she is here. She came to get him. 

Emma raises a brow in a way he thinks she may have picked up from him. “You called me three times.”

He blinks. Fuck. He doesn’t remember that. He looks at the sheriff waiting a little ways back who nods in confirmation, giving Killian his own pitying wince like he tried to stop him. Killian sighs. “‘Mm usually much more charming.” 

She rolls her eyes but smirks again as the sheriff slides a key into the ancient looking lock. “Yeah, I know. Come on, Graham’s going to let you off with a warning -” 

He nearly falls flat on his face when the door he’d been leaning against swings open. 

“You sure you’re gonna be okay with him, Em?” 

Oh great, they know each other. He’d be more annoyed at her cozy relationship with the unreasonably attractive sheriff if he wasn’t a little bit grateful to the man who caught him and is still holding him up now. If he can just get his legs to go back under him where they belong… 

“I’ll be fine. Thanks.” 

Killian feels himself being passed from the man who smells strikingly of the forest, to the woman with the irreplicable scent of honey and drugstore soap that overwhelms him with the memory of every time he’s had his mouth or his hand on her skin. The fingers of his one remaining hand burn with the urge to feel her under them again so he balls them into a fist as she drapes his arm over her shoulders. “What about you?” It takes him a moment to realize that he’s who the question is directed at. “You going to be okay to walk out of here?”

Sheer determination not to make an even greater fool of himself than he already has in front of Emma Swan is the only thing he can attribute to both not falling right over with the nod of his head, and the steadiness of his first step as she leads him out the door. 

He stumbles three times between the building and her car. She catches him every time with a hand on his chest, her head turning so that her hair brushes his cheek and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t do it on purpose after the first time - though he can’t really trust his own thoughts at this point since they have to be yelled at him through an ocean of rum. 

“It’s your bug!” he beams at the old, yellow car. “I love your bug.”

“You hate my bug.” 

Oh, right. He does hate the car that broke down every other time they drove to his hotel in the middle of the night, the one that had broken down the night they met. ‘I swear I’m not trying to stand you up. It’s just my car is literally on the side of the road right now and the tow won’t come for another hour at least and there’s… smoke.’ 

It had been an interesting night, getting an Uber in a strange city to go pick up a stranded woman from a dating app who'd been on her way to his hotel for anonymous sex - a woman he found out had lied about her age when she pointed out that the 1993 beetle was older than she was. ‘I didn’t think you’d swipe right if you knew there was a whole high school senior between us.’ ‘Anything else I should know about?’ he’d teased when they were back at his hotel room where she’d managed to get him out of his shirt with impressive speed. ‘Is Anna even your real name?’ ‘Uhhh, about that…’

She leans him up against the aggressive yellow of the door as she fishes in her pockets for her key. Her cheeks have gone red from the cold and it reminds him of the flush that would sometimes come over her skin if he found the right words or the right touch. 

“You’re so lovely.” His thumb is tracing over her cheek though he doesn’t remember raising his hand or reaching for her. 

She snorts. “Yeah, okay, Jones. So not gonna happen tonight, but nice try.” This time her smirk is wicked and if he had any real control over his body or his brain he would kiss it right off her smug mouth.

“I wasn’t trying to do anything!” he swears, prosthetic on his heart as she unlocks the passenger side door. “I’m just grateful you came all the way out here to rescue me. My knight in awful yellow armour.” He gasps. She rescued him from a dungeon. “Bloody hell, Swan -” He speaks slowly, managing to get almost every word out coherently. “I’m the princess.”

He’s waiting for her to come to the same mind-blowing realization as he has, but she just shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “Get in the car, your highness.” 

It takes an impressive amount of self-control for him to sit still and keep his hand to himself despite his racing heart and thoughts as she leans over to help him secure his seatbelt. Because he’s not supposed to have those thoughts. And his idiot heart can keep its cruel reminders to itself. He shouldn’t have called her. He hasn’t called her - not in months. Not since he realized his mistake and knew this thing between them had to come to an end. 

He’s missed her so bloody much. 

“Killian.” She’s beside him now in the driver’s seat and saying his name like it’s not the first time she’s asked him this question. “Where are you staying?”

“Oh, I…” Shit. He knows this. He’s got this. Think. There was a hotel. A big hotel with really good room service. Maybe they could go there and he could buy her room service. She always liked that. ‘Listen, I know I came over here for sex and that was great and everything, but there’s a freaking lobster grilled cheese on this menu so do you think I could be here for sex and room service tonight?’ She’d looked at him with that same wicked, eager smile and he was already reaching across her for the phone. ‘I feel like I should be concerned that you seem more turned on by this sandwich than you did by anything else tonight.’ ‘Well, it’ll probably take them a little while to deliver it if you want another go at out-seducing bread and cheese.’

“A hotel,” he tells her finally. 

“Yeah, I kind of figured. Which one?”

“Which what?”

“Which hotel, Killian? Which hotel am I driving you to?”

“Oh.” He knows this one! “Mine.” 

She sighs, forehead falling against the steering wheel for a long moment. He waits, not sure what he did wrong but positive that he did something. “Okay,” she says, sitting up and starting the car. “It’s late. You can sleep it off on my couch for tonight and I’ll drive you back in the morning when you’re less… wasted.” 

She sounds frustrated and he thinks it might be his fault. He looks at her carefully as she turns out of the parking lot, really looks at her for the first time since she walked back into his life a moment ago. Holding his breath against the eyes and hair and skin that always try to steal it away, he takes note of her messy hair, the lack of any makeup, the grey sweats he knows she likes to sleep in. He looks at the clock next, the late - or rather early - hour shining angry, bright and orange. He can figure this out. 

“I’m sorry.” He’s an idiot. She glances at him before turning back to the dark highway ahead of them.” “I shouldn’t have called you.” 

“It’s fine.” 

“No, it’s not.” He hangs his head, hoping he looks sincere and not just as pathetically pissed as he is. “I woke you up.” 

“Really, Killian, it’s fine. I was just going to bed.” He looks at the clock again and he envies her youth not for the first time since meeting her. He supposes he’s up this late as well, but that wasn’t by choice. That was the rum’s decision. The rum always makes bad decisions. 

“But it’s cold.” She must be cold. She’s always cold and he made her go outside. She hates outside. She probably hates him now. ‘Listen, I’m all for this whole hooking up when you’re in town no strings thing.’ She waved a hand in his general direction. ‘Big fan of everything you’ve got going on here. But it’s cold as balls outside, so from now on you can come to mine and I can stay inside where it’s warm, or I’ll see you in the spring.’ 

The smirking curl of her mouth tugs at her cheek but he doesn’t reach for it again. “Yeah, it’s November.” 

November. The last time he saw her it had been the dead of summer, both of them hot and sticky and barely dressed, stretched out in front of the single standing fan by the bed in her little apartment with no bloody air conditioning. 

He misses that apartment. Misses being there with her and letting her make him boxed mac and cheese while he complained about her eating habits. Misses the ridiculous sheets with little Millennium Falcons on them that she’d found when he was running late to meet her that one time. He’d made her wash them before putting them on her bed - ‘fine, mom’ - and then listened to her make Star Wars puns from between her thighs until they tightened so hard against his ears he couldn’t hear anything at all. 

And he misses the way she would smile at him when she opened the door, just before she dragged him inside, asking about his flight between heated kisses and frustrated hands. ‘I hate your stupid ties’. 

He’s a bloody idiot and he should have never stopped calling. Or he should have stopped calling a long time ago, before there was anything to miss. They had a good thing going, an understanding, no strings. He’d reach out when he was in town for work and they would meet for one or however many nights he was staying. No expectations or dates or sleepovers, none of the complicated stuff. And he’d screwed it up.

His feet slip dangerously against the icy ground - at least he’s pretty sure there’s ice, or the ground isn’t staying still again - as Emma practically hoists him out of the car. “You remember the stairs right?” she asks, ducking under his arm again to steady him. She fits well there with her arm wrapped around his waist. 

He hadn’t remembered the stairs. Though he should have, he’d complained about them enough times. ‘What’s so wrong with an apartment with an elevator?’ ‘Aw, can your old knees not handle it?’ He’d caught her as she bolted up the last few flights at his glare, laughing the whole way, and he’d spent enough time on his ‘old knees’ to make her take it back. This time, he’s not so sure he can handle it as he looks up at the rotating stairs that seem unable to settle on a height. 

“It’s either that or you’re sleeping in the lobby, Jones.” 

He considers it. “Is that David guy still your landlord?” The one who was particularly hostile to the man in his forties coming over at random hours of the night to visit his twenty-eight year old tenant. ‘Give him a break, he still thinks I’m the sixteen year old kid he illegally rented to when I first moved here.’ 

In fairness, Killian would probably judge himself too if he were in the landlord's shoes. He has judged himself many times for becoming a stereotype of Dicaprio-sized proportions. But the alternative would have been resisting Emma Swan, something he’s incapable of doing - or at least had been until that morning he ruined everything. 

“Okay.” The stairs are still moving.

“Hold on.” She takes out her phones - there’s definitely two of them - and holds them in front of his face. “I just want to get you on camera saying that I’m not liable if you fall down these stairs and break your neck.” 

“Is that really necessary?” He got that whole sentence out in one try. 

“I know you have a lawyer.” ‘You have a what? Wow, I knew you were older but I didn’t know you were like, old old.’ ‘I don’t think it counts if you’ve stolen from parent’s liquor cabinet.’ 

“Fine. Don’t sue Emma if I die. She’s very nice and doesn’t have any money anyway.” 

“Thank you.” 

“It’ll never hold up in court.” 

“That would be way more convincing if you could pronounce all your consonants.” 

The climb takes twice as long as it should and he’s forced to stop once when he makes the mistake of looking down and his stomach rolls violently. ‘I swear to god if you puke in my hallway I’ll leave you here to sleep in it.’

“I don’t remember there being this many floors.”

“It’s four floors. You’ve done two.” 

He might die.

He doesn’t die, but just barely, and when Emma leads him through the door and into the studio, she practically drops him onto the old couch. It’s not her fault; he’d made himself very droppable in the last few minutes. At least he landed on the couch and not the collection of wooden crates she’s glued together next to it. ‘That’s not a coffee table, Swan.’ ‘Oh, I’m sorry, is that or is that not your coffee cup on it right now?’

He doesn’t see her for a few minutes, his head too heavy to lift, but he can hear her moving around the apartment and he can picture her, walking through the kitchen on her toes. ‘It’s not weird, shut up.’ ‘I just thought you’d like to know that most people use their whole foot.’ 

When she finally comes back, he forces his eyes open, unsure who exactly glued them shut or how they did it without him noticing. Fuck she’s beautiful. Even through the boozy marinade he’s made of his head he can see that, and he wants to tell her. He could. He could blame it on the rum. But that would be a bad idea. Complicating things between them would be a bad idea. They’d already gotten complicated enough. God, he’s such a fuck up. Things were good, they could have stayed good. He just had to go and ruin a good thing with his stupid, greedy heart. 

“Here.” Two little pills and a frighteningly large bottle of water are set down in front of him. He’s not sure what the pills are but he’s also pretty sure she wouldn’t try to poison him even if he is an asshole who called her in the middle of the night after ghosting her for months. Pretty sure. The water sounds like a good idea. 

“Have you eaten anything or did you have rum for dinner?” 

“There were peanuts at the bar,” he tells her after guzzling down enough water to drown himself with. She shakes her head and walks out of his line of sight again. This time she comes back with a bag of crisps and he thinks maybe she doesn’t hate him as much as he thought because they’re the kind he likes most. 

“Eat that, drink that, and take those,” she orders, pointing to each with a stern look. “And then lie down on your side so I know you won’t choke to death in the night, and get some sleep.” 

“Yes ‘mam,” he salutes.

“Don’t get cute with me.” He wasn’t trying to be cute. But it makes him unreasonably happy that she thinks he is. She rolls her eyes at his probably once again dumb smile and repeats, “eat,” before disappearing where he can’t see her again. 

When she comes back this time her hair is down, falling over the shoulders of her oversized Jonas Brothers t-shirt she’s apparently had since she was twelve, and he wants to whine or cry at how desperately he wishes he could reach for her and what an idiot he is for being the reason he can’t. She’s carrying an empty garbage can, a blanket draped over one arm. 

“Do not puke on my rug. It’s the only new thing in this whole apartment and I love it more than I’ve ever loved anything in my life.” 

Killian leans over from where he’s stretched out on the couch that’s too small for him, running his fingers over the blue and white pattern and nods. “It’s lovely, very soft.” 

She’s silent for long enough that he looks up again, only to find her with her lips pressed so hard together against a laugh that he can see her chest lurch with the force of containing it. He frowns, looking from her to the rug and back again before realizing that he’s been stroking the rug with his prosthetic hand. 

“Emma… I might be drunker than I thought.” 

The laugh that bursts out of her is loud and horrible and obnoxious and it’s the best sound he’s heard in a long time. He’s missed that sound, the one that had shocked him so completely the first time he heard it that they’d both ended up on the floor, stomachs hurting and eyes tearing, neither able to remember what had set her off in the first place and unable to stop giggling like teenagers. 

“Aw, babe,” Emma crouches down in front of him with a pitying look before beginning to work the straps of his false hand loose. Her hand settles soft against his cheek once it’s free, smirk still lingering on the corner of her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s ever been as drunk as you are right now.” 

Her face is so close to his that his heart forgets how it’s meant to work, stopping and racing of its own accord. He wishes she would close the distance, that he could feel her mouth against his for the first time in months, or that she’d simply stay here with him for the rest of the night because the distance and the silence between them has been more than he can take. He doesn't know how he ever convinced himself that staying away would eventually make the ache for her fade. 

She smiles at him again, giving his cheek an affectionate pat before draping the blanket over him, the soft one he knows had been her prized possession before the rug. “Get some sleep, Killian. I don’t think anyone’s ever been as hungover as you’re going to be tomorrow either.” 

He’s not sure whether or not the way his fingers close around hers before she can pull away was his idea or the rum’s, but she’s looking at him, waiting for him to say something and he doesn’t know what he was going to say or what he was thinking. He just knows that he missed her and he screwed it up - and then he screwed it up again, possibly beyond repair the second time. 

Being in this city that he managed to avoid for months in the hopes that he could forget about her has been one of the worst decisions he’s ever made. To think he really believed that he could live here, that he could take the job that was offered and not be haunted by her every waking moment, not dread and hope to see her around every corner. 

Being naive enough to think he could ignore the draw of her is how he ended up in that bar tonight. He’d tried to figure out how many shots of rum it would take to make him forget that he loves Emma Swan, but it seems there isn’t enough rum in the world for that - or at least not enough in that bar. 

She’s still looking at him and he wishes she wasn’t watching him with a hesitation and a carefulness that hadn’t been there before. It had always been so easy between them; he’d never felt less self-conscious with another person in his life and now it’s all consuming. She’s lost the carefree warmth he used to see in her eyes, like he took it with him when he left that morning and didn’t come back. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He can’t tell if it’s relief or disappointment in her sigh. “I already told you, it’s fine.”

He shakes his head. “Not for calling you tonight. For not calling you. Every other night. I’ve been an ass and I’ve been a coward. You didn’t deserve that.” By the grace of whatever gods might be listening to his poor apology, he doesn’t slur a single word.

Her pause is long enough that he worries he said the wrong thing, and he can’t read her expression through the haze of booze and exhaustion swimming around in his head. He should let go of her hand, but he’s painfully aware that this could be the last time he gets to touch her and she’s not pulling away. 

She sighs again. “Why don’t we talk about this when you’re feeling better?” 

He lets go. “Aye, Swan, whatever you want.” 

She walks away. Beyond repair then. 

***

“Swan, it’s me. ‘M so sorry I ‘avnent called for… September, October, Nov… three months. Shit that’s too many months. ‘M sorry but I need your help. The sherrffeff won’t let me leave. He says you have to pick me up - well not you but ‘ynow someone. I don’t know anyone else.”

Killian jumps, heart pounding. He feels like he’s woken from a coma, body so heavy with sleep that parts of it aren't responding to him and never having been more confused than he is in these first few moments. It’s daytime, but it’s not morning, the light is too dim, and he’s asleep but not in his bed or in his hotel room, on a couch he recognizes but can’t really place. He has a vague recollection of things that may or may not have happened while he lay here; the sound of someone moving around the room, someone saying his name, a door shutting, an angry car somewhere far off and the bark of a dog somewhere close, the sound of keys and the strange sensation someone poking him in the face - hard. 

All of it feels like a fever dream now as he looks towards the tinny sound of the belligerent man’s voice coming from the phone in her hand.Oh no. Oh god what the hell had he done last night? He recognizes the room, the soft blanket he’s under, the long legs clad in grey sweatpants perched on the table in front of him. He doesn’t think he can bring himself to look at her.

“Oh! It’s Killian by the way. Killian Jones. I don’t know how many Killians you know but I’m that one. The dickhead who ghosted you. ‘Nway, if you could call me back that would be just - awesome. Yur prolly not gonna call me back. I wouldn’t call me back. ‘Nway… yeah. It’s Killian. Thanks.” 

If you’d like to save this message, press - there's a loud beep before another message begins to play. Bloody hell. He remembers the pub, and the cop - sort of - and he remembers that little line on his phone screen. ‘Absolutely not’. From the looks of it, he absolutely did. 

“Heey, isme again. I don’t think I told you where I am. Is’not great, Swan. They put me in the jail.”

He winces, sitting up carefully, head still light and disoriented. “Did I…”

“Mhm.” 

Another wince. “Are they all-”

“Oh yeah.”

“‘M not even that drunk. The sherfs just got a commpelex or something.”

“Swan, we really don’t have to -”

“Shh, this is my favourite part.” 

Killian hangs his head. “I - Oy, I’m on the phone, sherirff! Don’ they teach you manners at cop school? The cops in your city are rude, Swan. Hey! No - iss my phone. I can call whoever I want.” There’s a shuffling sound that stirs up a faint memory of trying to back deeper into the cell, then a small shout and he remembers why his ass hurts and that he’s probably got a bruise on his hip the size of the one on his ego. Emma has her lip caught between her teeth again, flashing him the same look she had when she arrived at the station. 

“Hello? Swan? Oh, right. Yur prolly asleep. You should be asleep, that’s good. I jus’ called ‘cus I…” For a blissful minute he thinks he might have had the sense to hang up, the silence on the other end dragging on and he almost breathes a sigh of relief. But then the message rings out again. “I can't remember why I called you. I think somethin’ made me think of you.” His voice gets softer and so does her expression for just a moment. 

“That happens a lot. I been thinking ‘bout you a lot, all the time, really. And not just in a sexy way and not just yer face.” Killian hangs his head. “Even though I’m a fan of your face. And all your other parts too.” 

He wishes he could just perish right here and now, wishes the dull ache in his head would become an aneurysm and take him out without a fuss. 

“I been thinking about those ridic’lus tiktoks you used to send me and when I was in meetings ‘n I jus’ wanted to be with you. I don’t know anything about Taylor Swift anymore, Swan - I don’t know how to find those myself.” There’s another pause but he knows better than to hope this is over, much of this coming back to him now in mortifying waves. 

“I’ve too many shirts in my closet now - It’s so many shirts. I always brought extra ‘cause I knew you’d steal ‘em an’ then you’d walk ‘round your kitchen in ‘em with no pants like yur a sexy Winnie the Pooh or somethn’ and I had to watch you climb yur counters while I had a heartattack  ‘cuz you wouldn’ jus’ let me get things off the top shelf for you. Bloody stubborn.” There’s a sigh over the machine. “I don’t want this many shirts, Swan…

‘Anyway I - What? Who does? Sorry, Swan the sherf is being rude again. He wants to know if yur picking me up. Are you picking me up?” There’s so much hope in his past self’s voice that he almost feels bad for him. But he also knows what a bloody idiot that man is and it’s hard to feel anything but the overwhelming urge to disappear into this couch and not have to listen to any more of his drunken rambling. “That would be nice. But it’s okay if you don’t want to. I’d understand. Gnight, love.”

To delete this message press - She hits a button. Message saved.

Killian braces himself for the next one. Gods, how many of them are there? But this time it’s not his voice that comes out over the speakerphone, it’s another man, Irish and vaguely familiar through the sleep and the unfortunately returning memories. 

“Hey, Emma, it’s Graham.” Killian’s heart drops into his stomach at the sound of another man calling her in the middle of the night. Of course she wouldn’t have sat around pining like he did, not for a man who treated her as carelessly as he had. Of course - “Listen, I don’t know who this guy is but he says he knows you. I thought maybe he was one of your clients but when I asked him how he knows you he just asked me if I’ve ever been in love...”

The brow Emma raises at him is equal parts question, challenge and amusement and he feels the blood rush from his face. Fuck. He wonders whether four floors would be high enough for him to end this misery if he just went out the window. 

“Anyway, just let me know if this is another Walsh situation and I’ll make sure he stays in here, alright? Goodnight, love.” Killian can’t even begrudge the man or the endearment he adds to the end of his message when he’s only looking out for her. Probably a good thing she has someone to keep old, drunk dickheads away from her. 

He hears another beep of her mailbox and braces himself for whatever’s coming next. “Hi, love, ‘m sorry for calling so much. I know I made too many ms’takes to be ‘loud to say this, but… I miss you, Swan… And I’d jus’ really like to see you again.”

End of messages. To - 

Emma shuts the phone off, setting it down next to her on the coffee table. She tilts her head to see his face which he’s currently trying to bury in his hands. “Sounds like you had quite the night.” 

“I thought I’d be more hungover.” His head hurts and he’s tired and his mouth is dry but he expected to be near death after the way he threw them back last night.

“It’s four in the afternoon.” Oh. He does the math of how long she’d let him sleep in her apartment after everything he’s done - after she picked him up. 

“At one point I had to make sure you were alive. But I figured if you were able to leave such eloquent voicemails last night that you probably weren’t in danger of alcohol poisoning.”

“Swan, I…” He’s fully aware that he deserves her mocking but he’s too humiliated to even begin to try and explain his behaviour last night. How can he without explaining everything right down to that morning in July where he messed up the best thing in his life.

She takes pity on him, giving a small shrug. “Forget about it. Everyone says stupid stuff when they’re hammered. Everyone calls people they know they shouldn’t.”

“No, Emma -” He finally lifts his head to look at her. “That wasn’t…” He needs her to know that wasn’t what this was, she wasn’t just some drunk dial in the middle of the night. He thinks of how many times in the last three three months he’s looked at that contact in his phone, her name replaced with a reminder that he should not and absolutely could not go there. She mistakes his hesitation. 

“You okay?”

“No.” He needs to talk to her, to apologize and beg her forgiveness. But he can’t find the words in his tired, muddled head to tell her without telling her everything. “I’m a bloody idiot.” 

Emma smirks. “Yeah, we established that last night - a bunch of times.” 

“I mean it. It wasn’t -” He rubs at his eyes, trying to clear the sleep and avoid looking at her. “I didn’t just call you because I was drunk. I’ve wanted to call you. For months. Last night just gave me an excuse.”

“You needed an excuse to call me?” 

He sighs. “I was coward enough to convince myself I did.” 

When he finally forces himself to face her, he finds her watching her phone, fingers wrung in her lap and lips pressed together tightly the way they always are before she asks something that’s answer matters to her. 

“How much of last night do you actually remember?” 

“Most of it, I think.” It’s been coming back to him in increasingly horrifying details since she played that first voicemail.

“You said a lot of stupid stuff.” 

“I know.” 

“How much of all of that was true?”

“All of it.”

She raises a brow. “All of it?”

“Aye.”

“Sexy Winnie the Pooh?”

A smirk tugs at his mouth. “I stand by what I said.”

He wonders which parts of what he said she’s focusing on as her silence stretches between them, heartbroken when he sees a little wall go up. This is why he stopped calling. He knew this would happen. 

“It’s fine. It’s not like you owed me anything. We weren’t -”

“Don’t do that.” His hand reaches out for her, fingers playing carefully with the fabric of her too-big sweatpants. “We may not have been in a relationship but we weren’t nothing.” He won’t let her excuse his behaviour, not after they spent over a year in each others’ lives only for him to disappear from hers. “I shouldn’t have acted like we were.” 

“So then why did you stop calling?” It’s the most vulnerable he’s ever heard her sound even though she hides it well and he can’t bring himself to look at her. “I liked what we had going. I liked spending time with you.”

“Aye, so did I.” Too much. 

“I guess I thought - I guess I thought we were friends at least.” 

“We were.” His fingers dance along her calf through the fabric he can’t stop fiddling with and he feels the muscle tense but she doesn’t pull away from him. 

“So then what gives?” The anger in her voice makes his gaze snap up to hers. Finally. He’s been waiting for her to be angry with him, she deserves to be angry and he deserves it too. It gives him that small flicker of hope he’d been unable to find until now, a hope that if she’s angry, it’s because she cared enough to be hurt. “Why did you just…” She gestures vaguely with her hands. Disappear. 

“Because I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

“Do what? Hook up? Jesus, Killian, I’m a big girl. You didn’t have to run away because you were over the benefits part of this friendship.” 

“I wasn’t. I left because I broke our rules.” 

“What rules?” 

The ones they’d so carefully established when they decided to continue this arrangement beyond the first and second time he saw her. The ones that were meant to keep either of them from getting hurt like they both were now. 

“The last time I was here, we fell asleep and woke up in the morning still in your bed and I…”

“That’s why you freaked out? Because you accidentally slept over? That’s a bit dramatic don’t you think?” He can hear the disbelief in her voice and also the relief but he’s not done. “It wasn’t like a hard and fast rule -”

His fingers curl around the back of her knee, squeezing as he draws her attention. “That’s not why.” He traces his thumb over the fabric covering her shin and he knows he has to tell her because he can’t do this anymore without telling her and he can’t go back to how things were. 

And he thinks that just maybe, she’ll want to hear it. Because as small and insignificant as it may seem, those aren’t her sweatpants, they’re his, lent - stolen - after a rather frantic afternoon in his hotel room six months ago where he may have torn her skirt in his haste to get it off. ‘You need better quality clothes, love.’ ‘Is this you finally offering to be my sugar daddy?’ They have his bloody initials on them - a strange gift from his lawyer friend. And she hasn’t gotten rid of them, didn’t toss them away when he did the same to her. She still sleeps in them. 

“I freaked out because I liked waking up with you, and I started thinking that I’d like to wake up with you every morning.” He’d been hot and sweaty and sore from sleeping on her old mattress but he’d looked down at the woman wrapped around him despite the stifling heat, her cheek pressed to his chest and her hair in his mouth and he knew that he wanted this, wanted her, maybe forever. He hears her small intake of breath, his thumb still stroking her skin though the fabric as though it’ll give him the strength he needs. “And I hadn’t felt that way about anyone since…” He can’t finish and so she does for him. 

“Milah?” 

“Aye.” His reason for never wanting anything more, love lost in the same instant that cost him a piece of himself. He’d told Emma about her, one night when they’d lingered a little too long entangled in the aftermath. He didn’t know the details of her reason, only that she’d been far too young and that he’d hurt her deeply enough to make her wary of anyone who claimed love or devotion. 

“I hoped that if I stayed away for a little while that it would fade away and that we could go back to how things were because I knew that if I told you I would lose you. But the longer I stayed away, the more I missed you and the more I wanted you and I realized it wasn’t going to go away - because I loved you.” 

Killian watches her for a reaction as he tells her the truth he’d been hiding from her for months and from himself for far longer, but she remains unreadable, fingers still wringing nervously in her lap, breathing a little shaky. But there’s no abject terror in her gaze as she waits for him to finish.

“And by then I’d avoided you for too long and it was too late to tell you or try to go back to how things were and I lost you anyway. Then I managed to convince myself that it was for the best because this wasn’t what you wanted and you deserved better anyway.” Better than an old widower with a used up heart who’d run the moment things became real. “But I thought you had the right to know that I didn’t leave because I didn’t care about you. I left because I cared too much.” 

Fabric slips from his hand as she stands, circling the coffee table and leaving him feeling untethered without her and with a barrier set between them. He focuses on the rug, her reaction expected but no less painful, as she paces the length of her glued together crates a few times. 

“Okay two things.” Her tone snaps his gaze up to where she moves anxiously and restlessly in the small space. “First of all, that’s the last time you make a decision for me.” He hadn’t expected this reaction. “I don’t need anyone to decide what I do or don’t deserve or what I can or can’t handle. If you want to know what I want, you ask me. You talk to me like the grownup you keep pretending that you are.” That one hurts but he nods. It’s all rightly earned. 

“You’re right.” 

“Good.” She stops, shoulders squared as she faces him from across the table. “Second.” He waits, the anger from before no longer sustaining her as he sees the wall she hides behind slip just a little. “You said you loved me.”

He’s not sure what answer she wants, but he gives her the truth. “I love you, Swan.” Try as hard as he did not to, he knows it’s not going away. And he’s not willing to attempt another eight shots of rum a second time to make sure. 

She nods. He waits, or she waits, he’s not sure who’s supposed to speak here only that he needs to know how she feels and he’ll wait as long as he needs to. 

“Well? Are you going to ask me what I want?”

“What do you want?” He’d give her whatever she asked for at this point as he watches her bite her lip and definitely doesn’t wish he was the one biting it.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Fair enough. 

“Look, I get running away from feelings - I’m very familiar with the concept. But the way you did it was really shitty and -” Her voice goes quiet, arms wrapping around herself in a move so full of self-preservation that it breaks his heart a little. “It hurt, okay?”

Her words, thick with betrayal and rejection, pierce sharp through his chest, painful and deserved as she avoids his gaze as determinantly as he’d avoided hers. God, he’s an ass. He’d pieced together enough about her past from the small glimpses she’d given him late on those nights where they were still tangled naked in her sheets and the dark lent them the boldness to be vulnerable to know that she’d been left before. 

He joins her on her side of the table, reaching to touch the soft, golden waves that he’s spent months wishing he could tangle his fingers in again. “I’m sorry.” He pushes them behind her ear, thumb stroking over her cheek like her skin could break beneath his touch. 

When she looks up at him her eyes are red and wet he pulls her to him without thinking. “I’m sorry,” he breathes, Emma feeling fragile in his arms for the first time since he met her. She’s a force, his Swan, a tempest that could devour a thousand ships and it hurts to see her storms wane. 

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter, pressing a kiss to her temple as he brings a hand to stroke the hair at the base of her neck, feels her lean into him. “I’m sorry,” he speaks against her brow. “I’m so sorry, love.” His lips brush over the crown of her head and he feels her arms slip around his waist, holding tight to the back of his shirt. He holds her just as tightly, nose settling in the crook of her neck where he presses another kiss and whispers a thousand more apologies. “I’m an ass.” 

“Yeah, you are.” Her voice comes muffled from where her face is pressed against his collarbone and he laughs in relief to hear her tease him. He pulls back enough that she can lift her head to face him, eyes still red as he wipes at the dampness left on her cheeks. All he wants is to kiss her and spend the night and the next day and every day after that making this up to her, but he knows better than to push her.

Her hands slide from his back to his chest as she meets his gaze and takes a steadying breath. “I still don’t know what I want. You’re not the only one who’s bad at dealing with feelings and you just put some pretty big ones out there.”

“I know.” He doesn’t expect to hear the words back, not after three months of silence. But if she gives him the chance to stay and try to win her heart then he’ll spend forever earning back her trust. 

“But maybe, if you’re still in town for a bit, you could stay for dinner.” 

It takes everything he has to contain the ecstatic smile that wells up from his chest, afraid he’ll scare her off. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.” He’s not leaving her again. Not unless she sends him away. 

***

“When do you go back?” she asks when they’re sat at the kitchen island. ‘What, exactly, do you have against real furniture? Especially tables. They seem particularly discriminated against.’ ‘Do you see any room in here for a twelve-piece dining set?’ He swallows the bite of the boxed mac and cheese she’d made him cook ‘Because I’m still pissed at you and I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer through this.’ ‘Sadist. Can I at least add -’ ‘No.’  

Killian looks at his watch. “My flight was an hour ago.”

“What? You should have said -”

“And miss all the delicacies that Maine has to offer?” he asks, lifting his mismatched bowl. “It’s fine, Swan,” he adds when she looks genuinely concerned. “I’d rather be here.” He can get another flight at the last minute before he’s due back in New York on Monday. Getting his things back from the hotel, however, may be a tad more difficult. 

“That’s sweet and all but I think you’d also rather be employed.”

“Aye, well, I may not be employed there much longer anyhow.” 

Her eyes widen. “Oh god, don’t tell me you left them voicemails too.”

Killian snorts. “No, I’ve just… had another offer.” 

His heart pounds frantically as she asks, “where?” terrified that he’ll scare her off. 

“Here.” 

“Here?”

He nods. “I wasn’t going to take it, not after realizing how much I’d miss you if I was here. But, well, that was before I drank a full bar. And this town does have its benefits.” 

She gapes at him and he can see the thoughts racing behind her eyes. “You’re not moving for me, right? You want the job? Because I told you I don’t know what I want or if I can even do… whatever this maybe is and I -” 

He reaches for her hand, calming the rambling that had started. “I do want the job, but of course I’m moving for you, Swan. And I know you’re not ready to decide anything, and I’m not asking you to. But whether you do or don’t decide that what you want is me, I’m going to be right here while you figure it out. I’m not going to leave you twice, Emma. I don’t want to miss you like that again.”

Emma just stares at him, mouth opening and then shutting with questions that don’t find voice and he sits, stewing in the worry that he said too much, asked for too much. He swallows as she jumps out of her seat, his turn to ramble now as she rounds the island.

“I mean, I will have to go home and get my things and resign but I -” 

“Shut up,” she tells him, hands sliding into his hair and mouth colliding with his. 

He’s more than happy to do exactly that, wasting no time in gathering her up in his arms and pulling her close, returning the kiss he’d missed so damn much all these months, missed the feel of her soft and warm against him like this, for the little sound she makes when his own hand tangles in her hair just hard enough that he can keep he there a little longer.  

“Wait,” he breathes and her hands pause where they’d been working the buttons of his shirt free. “Maybe we should slow down.” There’s a part of him screaming at his stupid mouth right now for the words falling out of it. “You said you don’t know if this is what you want. So maybe we shouldn’t rush things.”

She barks out a small laugh. “You’re moving to another city for a ‘maybe’ and you don’t want to rush things?” He doesn’t really have an answer for that. 

Her brow and mouth quirk up in one devastatingly attractive motion that has him ready to go back on everything he just said. “This was never our problem,” she reminds him, fingers tugging the buckle of his belt loose. “We’re good at this part. Everything else is where we get messy.” She works the button of his jeans open next. “So just try not to make any more big confessions while you’re inside me…” She runs her teeth over the skin below his ear as she slides her hand into his jeans and he nearly chokes. “And we should be fine.” 

“Bloody hell.” His rational self may judge him later, but his current self has Emma Swan with her hand around his cock trying to get him out of his clothes and he’s already established that he’s not a very smart man. “I promise.” 

***

It’s a strange feeling to be laying here, wrapped up in an old duvet and Star Wars sheets with Emma’s head on his shoulder and her fingers drawing patterns over his chest. They’ve never done this part, never lingered beyond the time it took them both to catch their breaths before untangling themselves from one another and going about their day - or tangling themselves again. He likes it, but it’s strange, new, something he hasn’t done in a long time. Not with anyone. 

“This is kind of weird right?” she asks, breath warm against his neck. 

Killian laughs. Bloody mind reader. 

“Aye, a bit. I think I’m out of practice.”

“I never practised in the first place.” 

He presses a kiss to her hair. “But, it’s not bad, right?” She can probably hear his stupid heart racing as he waits for her answer. 

“No,” she shakes her head, sliding her arm around his waist and fitting herself more snugly against his side. “It’s not bad.” He can feel her smile against his skin, glad she can’t see the absolutely ridiculous one stretched across his own. They lay there a little longer, the room darkening with the earlier and earlier nights as he begins to dread the fast approaching hour where he’ll have to leave, until Emma shifts. “My neck hurts.” 

“My arm’s asleep.” 

She sits up and his arm is flooded with the sudden relief of no longer being squished, but he misses the warmth and the closeness of her immediately. He has two arms. Who really needs both? He’s done fine with one hand. “Where are you going?” he asks when she rises from the bed, reaching for his shirt that she tossed on the floor and he made himself leave there. ‘Do not fold your clothes while we’re in the middle of having sex or I swear I’ll put mine back on you fucking weirdo.’

“Thirsty,” she says as she finishes buttoning it. “You?”

“Aye, thanks.”

“Water? Or would you prefer rum?”

“Hilarious.” His stomach rolls, not finding her so funny. She certainly seems to think she is, smirking as she fetches two water bottles from the fridge. “You know you’re going to have to give me my shirt back this time. It’s the only one I’ve got.” At least until he finds out if the hotel hung onto his suitcase when he missed his checkout. “Unless you have the others squirrelled away here somewhere.” 

“I thought you had ‘too many shirts, Swan,’” she reminds him in a poor imitation of his accent and he rolls his eyes. She hops back onto the bed, climbing into his lap to sit astride his hips. His hand and wrist settle on her waist, the shirt in question riding up and making him groan at the feel of her pressed against him. 

“Aye well I’ve only got the one to wear out of here tonight and while you look infinitely better in it than I do -” 

“Like a sexy Winnie the Pooh, would you say?”

He sighs. “I’m never living that one down am I?”

“You want to show me your hundred acre wood?” Killian lets his head fall back against the headboard as she laughs herself silly. “I have another solution,” she tells him, hands wringing nervously in the sleeves of his shirt. “I was thinking, maybe, since you’ve already missed your flight, and you probably don’t have a hotel room anymore, that you could stay here tonight. And maybe we could give that whole waking up together thing a shot.” 

Her cheeks are flushed, freckles bright against the soft pink as she looks up from her hands to catch his eye. He kisses her hard enough that she’d have fallen right off his lap were it not for his arms holding her steady and close to him. 

“That a yes?” she asks, mouth curling against his and he catches that smirking bottom lip between his teeth like he’s wanted to since she showed up at the station. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

She nods and it’s him smiling against her mouth now. “For tonight at least. But I think there’s still a lot of grovelling in your future before it becomes a regular thing.”

He kisses her again, rolls her onto her back beneath him. “Then I’d better get started right away,” he says, lips finding the length of her neck as he begins to work free the buttons of his stolen shirt. 

“Well, you did promise you would write poetry about my boobs.” 

“I what?” He looks up only to see her wearing the same confused frown as himself before her eyes widen with laughter and she covers her mouth with her hands.

“Oh my god. You haven’t seen your texts have you?”

Fuck. 

*******

Tagging the usual people but let me know if you want to be removed or added!

@kmomof4​​ @elizabeethan​​ @the-darkdragonfly​  @undercaffinatednightmare​ @jennjenn615​ @dramioneswan​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @kazoo5480​ @lfh1226-linda​ @csalltheway​ @xsajx​ @xarandomdreamx​ @onceratheart18​ @ownedbycaptainswan @teamhook​ @pirateprincessofpizza @lostintheskyfaraway​ @zaharadessert​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @spartanguard​ @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche​ @jrob64​ @klynn-stormz​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @sailtoafarawayland​ @tiganasummertree​ @winterbaby89​ @hollyethecurious​ @stahlop​ @superchocovian @snowbellewells​ @xellewoods​ @sals86​ @karlyfr13s​  @ouatpost @skairipakomtrikru​ @lonelyspectator12​   @anmylica​   @alexa-fangirl-forever @inspiredbystardust​ @marcella2727 @paradiselady19​​ @koryandr​ @killiansprincss​ @goforlaunchcee​​ @motherkatereloyshipper

[crimeronan]

one further worst timeline thought: when hunter goes to find Luz, it is very much without any sort of permission. because They Don’t Know Belos Is Dead.

so lilith raine and darius’ priority list goes. like.

a) prevent total collapse of society

b) prepare some kind of defense In Case He Comes Back

c) somehow locate human realm experts who can give them even a semi-accurate sense of what Belos could even be Doing Over There

d) oh phew the healers say hunter’s going to make it. thank the titan. wait what do you mean he’s a WHAT

etc etc. as much as they love her, mounting an expedition to the human realm to find luz and probably fight her dad are like. WAY down the list.

so by the time hunter’s recovered enough to help there are still zero concrete plans to rescue luz. which. okay. fine. as usual I have to do everything around here. oh you strictly forbid me to go to the human realm by myself? well okay but I’m Gonna.

at which point amity, who would absolutely be going along were she not the single fragile tether holding Lilith and her sanity together, hands hunter a packed bag and says, shh. chill. wait for the third shift, they’ll leave you a gap in the guard at the portal.

sorry to keep worldbuilding your au for you but it Captivates me

GOD. YEAH. hard to imagine a world where hunter tracks down luz himself after recovering from near-certain death & doesn't have anyone else breathing down his neck about it, Unless he goes in secret.

i was already thinking that the reason it took him so long in the first place was because he kept getting sent back to bed & then having his room guarded to make sure he isn't gonna sneak through the portal while he's still, like.... so messed-up from whatever belos did that he can barely stand up straight.

(darius is behind this dastardly conspiracy. he is right for this.)

hunter spends At Least a week snarling "don't TELL ME WHAT TO DO, i OUTRANK ALL OF YOU" while lilith is like "i.... am not sure that's technically true anymore....?" and darius is like "even if it is, consider this a coup. cope and seethe about it, kid."

so eventually hunter decides his best tactic is to play nice and pretend he's definitely not plotting. while plotting. so much plotting.

LOVE the idea of amity conspiring with him. love thinking about the conversations leading up to her deciding the situation is drastic enough to pack him a bag.

like. her having a Pretty Clear Idea of how bad the circumstances are, given the whole Hunter Almost Fucking Died thing, but she's still like, "do you think he'd badly hurt her?? she's human, he knows she's fragile-"

and hunter is like. "he doesn't have anyone ELSE to hurt now, does he??"

amity promises a slew of lilith-related favors to the guys on third shift & stuffs a truly impractical number of weapons in the bag alongside some clothes n rations. and she's like "listen. don't fight the emperor. don't even Think about fighting the emperor. just sneak in to wherever he's keeping luz and get her Out. okay??"

hunter is like yeah okay. sure. i owe you forever. amity is like uh huh. but if anybody asks, i had Nothing to do with this. especially if the person asking is lilith. or darius. cool??

great!! go save luz.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Falling Part Three | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: Lana and Jae get closer and you ask Jimin for advice on how to deal with her while also trying to rationalize why Jungkook would be on earth Pairing: Angel f!reader x Fallen Angel Jungkook Word Count: 2.9k~ Warnings: Talks about doubting God and questioning why he let's bad things happen to people on earth as well as leaving heaven to join the devil. This is not meant to be harmful to any religion and I don't want to cause any doubt in God or your faith so if you feel that would affect you then please do not read. Nothing super in depth but still wanted to preface it with this. a/n: I finished this and immediately posted it after some rough editing but I wanted to get it out asap lol hope you guys like it!

Once Lana is done for the day I keep my head on a swivel trying to see if I can catch a glimpse of Jungkook anywhere. Is he a student? He has to be a student right? The only way he would materialize would be if the person he was assigned to has already turned 18. He couldn't possibly be a teacher because I would've noticed by now. Meaning he's highly likely to be in his Senior year just like Lana. There are so many kids here though, how am I going to figure out which students have turned 18 recently?

"Lana!" I hear her name being called from across the hall by that same boy from before. "Oh Jae! Are you all done for the day too?" she asks clearly wanting to see if they would be getting off at the same time for future reference. "Yeah I just finished, did you drive here?" he asks curious as well to see if she would need a ride home most days. "No, my mom dropped me off. I usually just hang around school for a bit and do some homework until she gets off work and comes to get me" she explains. 

"Oh okay, well if you want I could give you a ride?" he offers, clearly insinuating something else but it seems to be in a playful manner more than anything. "That's okay, she's already planning on picking me up today. Rain check?" she asks hopeful he won't feel bad about her shooting him down. 

"Sure. Would it be okay if I kept you company until she does?" he questions, she smiles and nods which seems to uplift his spirits again which is good in her mind. "Cool" he says and follows her lead to one of the table outside in the courtyard near the area her mom picks her up at. 

"So, how are you liking things so far?" she questions, hoping to find something that they can talk about for a while. "It was a pretty seamless transition thankfully. All of my credits transferred so I didn't have to worry about trying to make up for the ones that didn't" he answers. "That's great! Scrambling to make those up before graduation would've been really difficult" she cringes just thinking about the potential of being held back. 

"Plus the students here are really nice, and one girl in particular has caught my eye" he teases, messing with the strap on her bag, almost shy to admit. "Oh yeah? And who might that be?" she questions, catching me off guard. 'Where the heck did she learn how to flirt? And why is she already good at it?' I think to myself. 

"Oh, just this really smart, cute and funny girl that I met. I bumped into her on accident today though so I'm not really sure if she likes me or not" he continues. "Are you sure it was on accident?" she teases. 'What the heck Lana! Why aren't you the shy awkward girl I know you to be anymore?' I think to myself now slightly panicking. 'She must really like this boy so far if she's had a sudden change of character just to entertain his advances. This isn't good'.

After getting home her mom finally takes note of how differently she's acting. She calls out for her and Lana simply hums to show she's listening. "Did something happen at school today?" she asks, also a little worried about her. 'Thank God I'm not the only one' I chime in in my head. If this guy wasn't dressed like the definition of trouble I might not be this concerned but I can't help the slight panic I'm starting to feel.

"No, not really" she say and makes her way up to her room, with me following close behind. "Hey come back down when dinner is ready! No skipping meals today" he mom yells after her. "Yes mom" she responds and closes her door right after the words leave her mouth. 

Jae: Did you get home safe?

Lana: Yeah just walked in. Did you?

Jae: Yeah I did. What are your plans for the rest of the day?

Lana: Nothing really. I've got some homework to do but other than that I'm pretty much free. Why?

Jae: I wanted to see if you wanted to go for a drive

She pauses for a second and thinks about it. She's nervous but excited, that's for sure but I really really hope she'll say no. She knows that she isn't supposed to be hanging out with anyone, let alone a boy she just met after curfew. 'Please Lana, please but smart about this' I pray, not wanting to add another sin to her tally of not obeying the rules set out for her. 

Lana: Oh I don't know, I'm not supposed to be out late on a school night

'Yes Lana! Good girl!' I rejoice. Hopefully he won't push her too much, but I don't blame him for trying, Lana is a very pretty girl. 

Jae: It's probably because we don't know each other well too huh?

Lana: Yeah that too

Jae: It's okay I get it

Lana: But if you're free we could talk on the phone? That way we can get to know each other a bit better :)

Jae: Sure

*Jae would like to FaceTime*

"I said call, not FaceTime" she panics out loud while looking at herself in the mirror before pressing accept. 

"I said we could talk on the phone" she says frustrated at being caught off guard. "Are we not talking on the phone?" his voice resounds on loud since Lana hasn't put her Airpods in yet. "Well...yes" "Then what's the problem Pretty?" he says with a half smile, watching as her eyes widen at the pet name. 

"Why did you call me that?" she asks, biting her lip to keep a smile from cracking while occupying herself with finding her Airpods so her mom doesn't hear him. "Because you're pretty" he says with (not gonna lie) a gorgeous smile. Lana better be careful because I feel like this one is ready to break her heart. Once she finally finds them she puts them in and continues their conversation which I thankfully am still able to hear.

"Is it okay if I call you Pretty?" he surprisingly asks for permission. "As long and I'm the only one you're calling that then yeah I guess so" she says and I can feel her heart racing in anticipation to see what his response might be. "Who else would I call Pretty, Pretty? If I've got you I don't need anyone else" he says, his words sweet as honey warm up her skin. 

"You think you've got me?" she says raising a brow at him. 'Okay Lana, you've still got some fight in you' I'm glad to see she's not playing into his games too quickly. If I were her I would have this guy be putty in my hands before I let him call me anything. 'I- nope I'm not her. Yep, we're just gonna. Uh huh let's give her some privacy' I think to myself and quickly call Jimin to ask for advice. 

"Hey! Long time no see" he says when his hologram pops up. "Yeah sorry I've been really busy with Lana. A new boy just stepped in the scene and I'm not really sure what I should do to help protect her" I say and watch as he takes in the information and thinks on it for a second. "Lana has been a really good girl right? She's been respectful and honest and follows the rules, does well in school, all of that stuff right?" he asks listing off the things I've told him about before. 

"Yes, all of those are still true but I'm nervous. This Jae guy is a capital T for Trouble and I know I'm not supposed to judge but I have to discern on what exactly I'm supposed to do here. Plus her birthday is next month so hopefully I'll be materializing that day if things go according to God's plan" I say, reminding both him and myself of the sort of situation we're dealing with.

"You also have to remember she's still a teenager. Teenagers are supposed to grow up and mess up and get their hearts broken if life takes them down that path. It's perfectly normal for her to like a guy and for him to like her back. It's something new since she really hasn't shown any true interest in boys so I understand how you're feeling but just pray and watch over her. That's all you can really do until her birthday and hopefully by then you'll be able to actually help guide her if she's open to it" he says. 

Now that I think about it, I have been super on edge with her recently, even before Jae came around. Maybe I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Just watch, wait, and gather information about how their relationship grows and changes in these next few weeks so you're able to figure out a game plan before you materialize alright?" he finishes and I take it all into account. 

"Another weird thing happened today, my bracelet lit up when Lana and I were at school" I relay and I can see his face go from confused, to excited, to scared as well as a whole other range of emotions that I can't quite identify. "How could he even be there? Do you think he's materialized as someone's fallen angel? Are there even kids that are that bad at her school? I thought you said she was at a good one?" he asks, just as confused as I am.

"Doesn't mean there aren't a couple of bad eggs lost in the mix" I say, sitting down on Lana's bed to hopefully relax for a bit. "The only way that my bracelet would light up would be if he was in the same realm, correct?" I ask him to which he nods. "And when you fall you become a fallen angel, right?" to which he nods again. "So after all of these years there is still a possibility that he could've been assigned to be someone's fallen angel. Their bad influence so to say, right?" I finish. "Well yeah, but the odds of that are slim. Usually the angels who have fallen are left as slaves and can't come out of hell even if they tried" he explains. 

"Yeah but Jungkook's different, you and I both know that. He could've been taken under someones wing, for lack of a better term. They could've seen potential and drive in him. Plus his brother is there, he fell during the war between angels so he's been there since the very beginning. He could've found out that Jungkook had fallen and got him whatever job he wanted" I finish, showing Jimin the possibilities that could've caused our paths to cross again.  

Maybe all these years he's been leading people straight into the arms of Lucifer. I can't even imagine the horrors he's gone through or worse, taken part in or caused on his own. "Did you see him?" he asks the question that I knew he has been itching to ask. I shake my head and let it fall "I tried looking around but Lana had to get to class so I was stuck with her in there for an hour. When we left I kept on looking as best as I could to find him but he wasn't there". "Maybe try again tomorrow? You'll find him don't worry" Jimin reassures me and we end our call soon after that.

I check up on Lana's call and it seems like they haven't gotten up to too much mischief, just some harmless flirting here and there. "Lana! Dinner!" we both hear her mom yell. "Hey I have to go but I'll see you at school tomorrow okay?" she says, rushing to finish up so her mom doesn't get too suspicious. "Alright, goodnight Pretty" he says in a teasing tone that gives her butterflies in her stomach. "Goodnight Jae" she responds and quickly hangs up the phone before rushing downstairs. 

The next day at school Jae finds Lana in the same hallway they had met in and comes right up to her and swoops up her books again. "Hey!" she protests, trying to get them back just like yesterday. "Hello to you too Pretty" he says chuckling at her. "You really don't have to do that" she says crossing her arms awkwardly while they repeat the same steps they had done yesterday. "I know, but I want to. How did you sleep?" he questions glancing over at her while they continue on their journey. 

"I slept alright, what about you?" she asks looking at him and just now noticing the dark circles under his eyes. "I slept like a baby" he responds, clearly lying. "Are you sure? Because those bags under your eyes are telling a different story" she teases, trying not to prod but being open to the discussion. "Well for the amount of time that I did sleep, I slept like a baby" he chuckles and they continue on down the hallway.

Once they reach the classroom they do the same as before, hanging out right outside to talk when she notices a cut and a slight bruise on his cheekbone that she hadn't seen before since she had been walking on the opposite side of him. "Jae what happened?" she asks clearly concerned and on instinct grabbing his opposite cheek to keep him in place so she can inspect it. 

"It's nothing don't worry about it" he says taking her hand off his face gently and toying with her fingers. "It's clearly not nothing. Does it hurt?" she asks with her brows knitted together while she brings her other hand up and traces the area with a feather light touch. He flinches and hisses as if she's hurt him and she gets even more concerned before she realizes he's joking. "Don't do that! I'm worried about you" she says pushing on one of his shoulders a bit to which he hisses out in true pain. 

"Jae oh my gosh I'm so sorry. I-" she starts but stops when he places one of his hands on her cheek. "Don't worry about it, I'm fine" he says and makes purposeful eye contact with her, to which she decides to just look towards the floor after a second and nods, not asking any further. "Hey" he says and brings her chin back up to look at him again "Just trust me okay?" he asks and she just nods again in response. 

"I need words Pretty" he says using that pet name with her again, making her eyes widen a bit. "Okay" she agrees, "Okay what?" he says tilting his head at her in amusement, teasing to get a smile out of her. "Okay I trust you" she says, giving him that smile he was searching for. "There she is" he says, referring to her normal playful self. 

"Let's head inside okay?" he suggests and she grabs her books from him before he make moves to even push off of the wall he had been leaning against. He tries to reach out for them but she gives him a stern look telling him not to push his luck with her. "Alright alright fine" he says holding his hands up and decides to walk behind her when they walk into the classroom and follows her over to her desk. 

"Can I walk you to your next class?" he asks when she sits down and she nods in agreement but she shies away when he raises a brow at her. "Yes Jae I would love it if you walked me to class" she says and at that he gives her a half smile and runs a thumb over her cheek before he heads off to his seat. 

"My brain is total mush right now" Jae says as they finish up the lesson. "Oh come on it wasn't that bad" Lana laughs and shakes her head as they make their way over to her next class. "Hey Jae!" we all hear a voice say from behind. Even before his voice met my ears my bracelet lit up "Oh hey, give me a minute I'm just gonna walk Lana to her class" Jae says as they continue on down the hallway. "Okay, we'll be outside" he says and even though my head is telling me not to my heart has a mind of it's own making me turn to face him. 

The first thing my eyes land on is his bracelet that he seems to be fiddling with, him looking as confused as I was yesterday. No longer gold but it still sits on his wrist, beaten and tarnished so much so that it has turned into a dark matte black. Another reminder of how far he's fallen, as if his appearance and demeanor wasn't enough. 

He's dressed just like Jae, with piercings and those same burnt and twisted branches as well, his woven through other various tattoos on one of his arms of all shapes and sizes, a particular one catching my eye. He takes a look around to see if he could possibly catch sight of me but fallen angels can't see other angels until they too materialize. I can't help the few tears that fall from the shock of the state he's in especially when he heads back outside to a group of other guys dressed just like them. 

What are Jae and Jungkook involved in? And why for God's sake did he have to choose Lana?

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[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

My Love, I See My Self in You

Chrollo x reader

Navi.

Warnings: philosophy class has been a while, it´s possible that the following discussion about the self doesn´t make any sense. Or maybe it does. Who am I to say?, existential crisis El superiority, slightly implied yandere/not fully healthy relationship, also there is a reason I spelled it my self/our selves instead of myself and ourselves

Autumn Event.

Wordcount: 1.3k+

Love and passion – the spirited soul. What is the self without emotion? Does it need emotion for a self? Is that why you feel so lonely? Is that why he seems so void? It is a self he lacks, but there are other souls you both possess. You know of his need to eat to live and your throat has been dry more times than you could count. Life, apparently, appends the appetitive soul. While you cannot speak for yourself, you know he has intellect, you know there is a rational soul within him; too often have his arguments disarmed you.

So, what truly makes the self?

You could feel his gaze on you. A shiver went down your spine at his touch, running up your arm for just a sliver of your attention. He smiled when you turned to him.

“There you are. Penny for your thoughts?” he hummed, appreciatively.

You paused, unsure if you wanted to dive into that discussion on an evening as lovely as this one. Sensing your uncertainty, his fingers returned to your arm, drawing goosebumps from your skin.

“What do you think, is the self?” His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he briefly halted his movements. “Because you are rational and possess basic needs and even passion, but - is it really the lack of emotions that makes you so void?”

A chuckle escaped him and he resumed his ministrations, caressing your arm.

“Do you follow Plato´s philosophy?”

You shook your head. “I was merely entertaining the idea.”

“For you? Or for me?” His eyes darkened. You met his gaze head on, smiling sickeningly sweet.

“For you, of course.”

He hummed, but his eyes told you he didn´t believe you. Yet, he carried on:

“Sokrates believed it was the soul that was essence of the human person.”

“But then what is the soul?”

“Part of it being the individual´s intellectuality and morality. He thought it was this that made the personality.” You grimaced. “Is that theory not to your liking, sweetheart?” He let out a soft laugh when you shook your head. “Well, then, it is your turn again. What other theory do you have stored in your pretty little head?”

“I always thought Plato´s three souls are quite similar to Freud´s Es, Ich and Über-Ich," you said, more to yourself than to him.

Chrollo leaned forward, propping himself up on his legs. Still, he could reach your thigh with some of his fingers and couldn´t help but use the opportunity to continue touching you. While you would never admit it out loud, his gentle touch was indeed soothing. The amused gleam in his eyes told you he knew.

“I do – to a certain degree – agree with the tabula rasa; but more so in an-“ you snapped your fingers, trying to find the right words “-in an Existentialist way. Say…Locke´s theory about experiences, at least in part, creating the self.”

“You´re an existentialist?”

“Well, I do think we are shaped – our personality that is – by our experiences as well as the things we are taught – or not taught. Socialisation can either enrich or scar us; we can learn from it, reject it or embrace it. Either way: it makes us…us.”

“Then, in this case, would the “personality” you speak of constitute as a self?”

You pause.

“I – I´m not sure. I guess so, yes? At least partially? When I say “I”, do I mean my self? But that doesn´t really answer the question, does it? Whether I call it soul or self or me…I still don´t know what it means.”

You bit your lips and looked up at him. His eyes were brimming with fascination, he was listening to your every word.

“Maybe you´re all wrong?” he challenged you, oh how he loved to do that. You could feel his hands buzzing from excitement. “Maybe there is no self and all of this is pointless?”

You rolled your eyes.

“None of this is pointless, and you know it.”

“Do I now?” His smile widened.

“You get to pick my brain and I get to voice my thoughts.”

“I do enjoy picking your brain,” he admitted.

You didn´t even entertain the idea of replying to that.

“Anyways. If there is no self then I don´t exist.”

“That´s an interesting thesis.” You rolled your eyes again, but he continued as if nothing happened. “Maybe the self is just the brain?��

“I mean, to an extent that may be true. Plato´s souls can all – to a certain degree – be attributed to the brain. But that in of itself does not disprove the existence of a self. Maybe the self is the brain, perhaps it is within the brain. That doesn´t really matter in this discussion.”

“What about Ryle; "I act therefore I am"?”

“Now we´re back to existentialism.”

“Then what about this,” he leaned back again, eyes locking with yours, “Merleau-Ponty. You cannot view the self objectively. What we believe to know of both the self and the world is based solely on subjective experiences.”

You bit your lips and tapped your foot on the ground, frustrated. Chrollo, however, remained calm, gazing at you with utmost interest, heart thrumming in anticipation to your response.

“I-“ you cut yourself off. While you saw reason in what he proposed, you couldn´t help but feel like there was more to the self than this. “Then…what about...the five skandhas?” you asked, finally meeting his eyes again.

“Oh?”

“The self not only relies on feelings, whether emotional or physical, but also our senses. Mental activities such as thinking are also part of it. Then we have mental states and ideas: that includes prejudices and faith, but also desire, habits – even pride - and many more.

And, of course, there is awareness as well as our form itself – our physical body. I-“ You broke off again, unsure how to continue.

Chrollo hummed, seemingly satisfied with the glimpse he got from your mind. But then again, he was nothing but greedy.

“What about anatman then?”

“I never quite understood the "no self",” you admitted, quietly. “But if it is based solely on the fact that the self is not permanent – simply because we, as humans, are ever changing – I…I don´t think that is a good reason? I do not claim that my self is not subject to change, but that fact does not make it any less of a self? The person I was ten years ago – even just a moment ago – is different to the person I am now. Our selves are different – although they probably have some things in common still. But just how the differences between you and me don´t take away our claim to a self, neither do the differences between the person I am and the person I used to be. We are different people, with different selves.”

Chrollo let out a shaky breath.

“Then, what does this all tell you. Do you have an answer now?”

Sighing, you rubbed your eyes.

“You do have emotions, but they are…sterile,” you started, carefully, ”Only to the outside does it look like you lack a self. You have both physical form and consciousness. You can feel pain, whether it would draw blood or a tear. I have seen you plan the most intricate heists in your mind. I know that you enjoy our little morning ritual and that you believe it to be bad luck to leave without telling me that you love me. I know you have faith in the troupe´s vision and that there is nothing more that you desire than all of our happiness – even at the cost of your own life. You take pride in your knowledge, your experience and your intelligence – but still you can be afraid.” Your voice cracked. “Maybe you seem so void because you don´t know how to define yourself – not even being able to pretend like you do. And maybe,” you added, quietly, “Maybe I´m not lonely, just scared.”

Your eyes searched for comfort in his, but what met your gaze were only his widened, glassy eyes. After a moment, he coughed and drew you into his arms, holding you protectively against his chest and resting his chin on your head.

“We are young, sweetheart, we have all the time in the world to discover our selves." He paused. "And we have each other.”

You closed your eyes, returning his hug.

"Yeah, at least we have each other," you whispered.

[kittyball23]

I made myself laugh thinking about Broppy first time. I can see Branch and Poppy talking about it with each other and wanting to do it so they have plans on doing the deed the next day or so.

What made me laugh is that I can imagine Branch panicking and planning everything out like doing research like “how to pleasure your girl in one thousand ways” or “how to dirty talk” when the day comes, he definitely has the rose petals all over the place, mostly surrounding the bed, and the most comfortable sheets then he try’s the dirty talk but failing badly.

Then Poppy’s reaction be like: 😍🥰🤭😊🤨☺️😊🥹

I can see her start getting confused then get happy cause she knows Branch is trying then she tells they don’t that ‘How To’ stuff and let it happen naturally.

I loved this Ask so much I made it into a little Valentines Day fic :3

...Are You Ready for It? (a Trolls fanfic)

This is it.

This was it. This was really, really it.

Branch paced around, thinking, rubbing his hands together anxiously. After a moment, he took yet another glance at the watch in his Hug Time bracelet.

She’s coming soon.

Soon was right. Soon was in about ten minutes or so. And once she was here…

Branch gulped. Then he took a deep breath. Easy does it. There was no reason to panic… was there? No! his brain sternly reminded him. You’ve got everything ready. The blue Troll, however, didn’t listen. He had to do one last check. Plus, the pacing back and forth was driving him nuts.

He hurriedly scrambled back into his room, only to find it as ideally arranged to the setup he wanted. But with the way he was feeling, rationality was thrown out the window. He needed a distraction, or surely, the waiting alone would only continue to make him restless. So out went perfectly lit candles only to be relit, stopped was the record he had on only to be replayed, sheets that were already smoothed out were attempted to be smoothed out even further and -

Wait, what’s that?

Branch perked an ear, hearing the distinctive whirring of the elevator platform, and its light clang as it reached the bottom. Then - 

“Branch?”

Trolly moly… she’s here!

Branch abandoned his doings and quickly dashed back out, meeting the pink Troll.

“Oh, hey, Poppy!” He tried making his voice cheery, hoping she wasn’t seeing through it and noting the undertone of unpreparedness he felt.

I’m SUPPOSED to be crazy-prepared.

“Hey, Branch,” she cooed, almost shyly, hands behind her back and foot shuffling on the floor. “I, um… hope you don’t mind me being early?”

Early? Branch peeked at his watch again. Oh. She was early. Six or seven minutes. “What? Of course, not, Poppy,” he assured.

Oh my hair… does she want to get STARTED early??

“Oh good,” she said, sounding relieved. Then, her expression changed to curiosity as the trail of red on the floor caught her eye. A trail, she realized of rosepetals.

Branch saw her looking, and, putting on his most suave voice, extended an arm out and asked, “Do you want to know where it leads?”

She looked even more curious with Branch’s offer, and accepted. “Indeed.” The Pop Queen smirked, following him to what turned out to be the bedroom….

… one flawlessly decorated to fit their needs.

“Wow,” Poppy breathed, because, it sure was a breathtaking scene. She felt like she had walked onto the set of the most romantic movie being filmed. The natural earthen brown of the room was a lovely shade with the way that the glow of the various candles cast soft beams, the scent of warm lavender and vanilla wafting gently in the air from them. There was some music gently playing from the record on the nightstand, playing a slow, serene tune. But the bed stood out the most, though, with its plethora of roses and rosepetals alike. Branch plucked one of the roses off the sleek, white comforter and popped it into his mouth. “So,” he asked, “do you like what you see?” (Only, with the rose already in his mouth, it sounded more like “Sfo, fu you ike fut you fee?”)

Branch slapped himself mentally. This is probably too much anyway! he scolded, the way Poppy was carefully considering everything she was seeing.

“Well… this is really nice,” she finally commented, turning to him with a soft smile. “So… should we, um… just do it?”

Branch didn’t know why the question surprised him so much. That was the whole purpose of why they’d set aside this specific time on this specific day. Why wouldn’t they get on to doing it? He removed the rose and wrung it in his hands. “S-sure,” he stuttered, scouring his brain to remember every detail of Spice Up Your Life: Tips and Tricks for Bedroom Beginners, and the copy of 1001 Ways to Pleasure Your Lady from which he’d borrowed from Clay.

So, as Poppy went over to sit atop his bed, he blurted out the first turn-on he could think of.

“So, ya like jazz?”

When Poppy gave him a baffled look, Branch realized his mistake. Oh, I’m so, so, so, so STUPID! What was he thinking?? Jazz was what almost had them done for on their journey touring to the other tribes!! Now his hand was really itching to slap himself in the face.

He tried correcting himself before she replied. “I-I-I mean… um, forget I said that,” he tittered, pulling something out of his vest pocket.

Poppy raised a brow. “Is that soap?”

“It sure is,” he said, placing the bars down on the counter. “Figured we’d need it, you know, with how down and dirty we’re getting tonight…” Believing his props were cleverly used, Branch licked a finger, touched it to his bum and made a pssst sizzling sound, as if he was waaay too hot and bringing sexy back.

The pink troll was quite confused. Then, she burst out laughing. She laughed so much, tears formed at the corners of her eyes!

Branch pouted. Gosh, that was horrible. He already blew a corny pickup line, and now he gave her that cheesy display? If an award for the most mood-killing boyfriend existed, he was certain he would be the one to receive it!

“Oh, Branch,” Poppy giggled. “You are so…so… ”

“Dorky? Ridiculous? Unnecessarily-over-the-top?” he suggested. She may as well say it. It was true.

Poppy held onto his hands. “I was going to say precious,” she said. "I appreciate it all. And... I don't know much about how exactly the build-up and stuff to this kind of thing is like, but something tells me that we just kinda let it happen. You know… naturally."

"Ah, right," Branch agreed. "I'm kinda guessing that too." Then he also had a good laugh. After that, Poppy switched the classical record to one that played BroZone songs, made enough room for Branch to sit next to her, and talked and laughed all evening with her boyfriend. Neither engaged in the activities that they'd originally intended for that night, but Branch and Poppy still enjoyed themselves fully, simply for the company they found in having each other.

__________________________________________ A/N: Happy Valentines Day folks :)

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do your prompts 22, 34, and 41 for Jay (Ninjago)?

Sure! Thank you everyone who helped me put together the plot :) This is another kidnapping aftermath fic.

Here's his yandere concept to have a better idea of how I write him!

Yandere! Jay Walker Prompts 22, 34, 41

"They never loved you. Only I love you."

"No one else understands me except you!"

"I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Reckless/Self-destructive behavior, Obsession, Delusional yandere, Jealousy, Possessive behavior, Only Jay thinks you're in a relationship, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Scar mention, Forced relationship, Intimacy implied near the end.

Love makes some do irrational things. That statement rings true to someone like Jay. Except to him... every action for you is rational.

To Jay no one else matters but you and his love for you. This belief of his makes him perform recklessly. If something makes him look heroic, if you see him as someone who can protect you, it doesn't matter what he goes through.

Every scar he has... every wound on his skin... it's all meant for you. Most of it was actually avoidable danger. Yet he threw himself into it just to impress you.

Jay feels he does so much for you. Who cares if the others think he's lost it! He's happy to do anything for you if it means you'll love him.

... so why do you bother hanging out with the other ninja?

If you love him... why do you listen to them and not him? How come you don't trust him? He loves you more than them....

The idea of you not loving him is too much for his delusions...

So he decides he'll just have to show you how much he cares.

----

Cord digs into your skin, the restraints clearly tied tight enough to leave a rash. You struggle against the chair your body has been sat in. Although your moments freeze when someone skips through the door, a smile on their face.

"There you are, baby! I see you're awake~!" The blue ninja greets in a sing-song tone. His eyes hold a strange form of adoration towards you. Even though he was the one who tied you to a chair far as you know....

You struggle more in your restraints, grunting under your breath while Jay comes closer. He looks giddy as he holds your face in his hands. In fact, his gaze is deranged.

"I felt if I brought you here we could have some more privacy while we talk!" Jay chirps. Where exactly here was is unknown to you. "Your behavior around the others has been worrying to me...."

Your behavior? This was coming from Jay, the one the others have been warning you about. He used to be your friend, all sweet and kind around if not a bit nervous. Now he's literally the one who has kidnapped you.

The others were right about him... he's dangerous.

"I'm starting to think you don't love me..." Jay says in a soft tone, a hint of sadness in his voice. "Please tell me that isn't true...?"

You say nothing and note the slight panic on Jay's face.

"Wait, come on, baby! No one else understands me except you!" Jay pleads, letting of you for just a moment so he can steady himself. "Haven't I proven myself enough? Hang on..."

You evade your gaze then you see him move up his shirt to point to one of his scars. There's a... concerning amount of them. You find yourself feeling bad until you remind yourself of your situation.

"Look! Right here!" Jay jabs at his skin and you find yourself flinching. "I made this mark on myself to show you how much I love you!" He then sees your face and clears his throat. "It happened while I was protecting you... because I love you and I KNOW you love me too!"

Jay appears to be breathing heavier than normal. He studies you uncomfortable face for a moment before making an expression like he just realized something. His gaze grows darker....

"Oh... I get it..." Jay says through gritted teeth. "The others must've told you lies about us, huh?"

You finally find your voice. However, talking to Jay in such an emotional state proves to be a difficult task.

"What lies?"

"That they love you more than me! That I'm trying to hurt you and that you don't actually love me!" Jay snaps, grabbing the back of the chair so both of his arms are by the sides of your head. "Don't tell me you believe that crap!"

You shrink in your seat, feeling Jay's warm breath fan against your face. His gaze never leaves you. Even when he slide downwards to kneel against you, he can't stop looking at you.

"They never loved you. Only I love you." Jay says in a huff, reaching out to gently caress your cheek. You try to pull away from the touch but he holds you still. "That's why I brought you here in private." He smiles, eying your lips. "I wanted to show you how much I care."

"Jay, you're not-"

He leans closer, keeping you both at eye level. You try to turn you head away but Jay only shushes you before whispering in your ear.

"Even if they told you not to love me... I'm sure I can rekindle it between us. Just relax, I'll be gentle for you."

Your heart falls into your gut the moment your lips meet his, your fear muffled by passion.

[volivolition]

!!!!! We're SO glad you like Cosmos it's such a pretty song tbh like,,, waow,,

ok this time we have. THREE songs ok but hear me out: they go together.. u cannot separate them. sO!

first: The Heart Acoustic by Chonny Jash. This one gives off major canon Empathy vibes to us BUT for our system it's a Volition song. Either in a scenario where he's like. Unsure about his role as a Skill or as very Low levelled Volition wdk. Both r fitting to us though if that makes sense!

second: The Mind Electric, also by Chonny Jash! VERY MUCH a Logic song!! We really like these three songs and how they connect together the whole album is great in that tho it's abt these three guys just fucking FIGHTING EACH OTHER FBDBSJDJFJ but these three songs rlly show that. We see this as a song where Logic and Volition do NOT get along at all [also fun fact our Logic sounds like the dude in this song specifically. lov that 4 him <3]

third: The Soul Eclectic... Also by Chonny Jash! JFKDKDKFFK we r back on our shit [chonny jash hyperfixation <3] This one's an e-chem song 4 SURE to us but like,, Signature Skill Electrochemistry. less "hey do this thing to make yourself happy :3" and more "DO WHAT I FUCKING SAY EVERYONE OR ELSE :^)" sorta vibes FJDJDJFJ

the three songs tell a story of Heart and Mind fighting for control over the lead singer and they both want him to do vastly different things meanwhile Soul is like..... Listen. I need you both to shut the fuck up or I'll just KILL YOU. and our interpretation of the songs w the skills isn't quite like that it's less,, violent. more like "listen to me because I'm signature skill and harry listens to ME so shut it a bit" does that make sense it's 2 in the morning and we're TIRED lmao

anyways!!! all great songs, if you like these three PLEAZE let us kno bc chonny has a looottttt of good shit and we'd be so happy to send you more of his songs omg we lov his music so much

oh ive seen you mentioned these before i think!! :D ive listened to the original mind electric, and i LOVE how he's played with the concepts and melody?? i listened to this version with all three of them (i will not separate them dont worry hkjgh <33) and your interpretation is VERY COOL!! :D

more thoughts below the cut :]

oooh very orchestral and dramatic? i love all the lyrical replacements and all the nods back to the original too ough... i love cool fucking words hkjhg i understand the volition standpoint with "That’s what I’ll say to rationalize / I’m needed if we’re to stay alive." YEAH I SEE IT!! "see how the mind tricks the so-O-O-OUL~!!" MM GOOD SHIT, with the pauses in between? "do what you want, you automaton freak / no, i can no longer bring myself to care" FUCHFKH LMAO...? YOUR TURN BUDDY. man this is so cool...

:0 hell yes, logic you have an EXCELLENT voice, we all love this for him <3 "my logic is the absolute / his pity parties simply harm these chances at an apt repute" DUDE THESE FUCKING RHYMES!! HELL YES!! I LOVE WORDS!!! RUAHG!!!! i love that this one sounds more digital than the last one? OH wait i get it, the heart's acoustic and the mind's electric, man that's so cool... and also REALLY MEAN, lots of insults HKJHG but very amusing, THE GIRLIES ARE FIGHTINGGGG!!

soul starting with "Yo." fucking hgkjhg?? love that. this one OUGH... the BEAT, the vibes are so much more intense now, like oh shit okay!! boss music!! kill, then!! ooh i love heart and mind singing at the same time but different lyrics... oh nooo little guy don't... oh no the implications of the ending, no little fella noooo... :'] its very commanding, it does fit a cool skill signature, go e-chem go!! EVERYONE ELSE BE!! A LITTLE QUIET!! hkjhg

ough these are so cool, low psyche, high int, higher physique build :0

oh if this is something i also listened to The Bidding from Chonny (and watched the music video! its good fucking animation i love how theyre portrayed as little guys :3 the "WE COMBINED??? NO WAY GUYS!!!!!" WE LOVE TO SEE IT HDJKH) they did it!!! they worked together for a little bit!!! :D!! yayayayay!! also a cool one <3 if you would like to tell me thoughts on this one i will gladly send you an ask!! <33

thank you for sharing!! i always appreciate you :] <333

[yourfifitherealone]

I love you, EXACTLY the way you are <3 (Medic TF2 x reader) non-binary friendly

Medic's Pov

I noticed Y/N acting..off lately. They haven't been accepting physical affection or affection at all the same as they used to. Is it my fault? I don't really know, but what I do know, is that I WILL find out why. I was intensely determined to figure out the cause was.

"Greetings and salutations, has anyone seen my Darling anywhere?" I asked the base. "Saw the lass go up to the rooftop I think " Damon said which was unusually helpful from him "sincerest thanks" I finished while walking up the staircase.

"My darling, darling, where are you?" I called, finally at the roof. Then I heard crying "Y/N?" Then I saw them balled up shaking to the beat of sobs. "What happened?" I asked rushing over beside them. "I-I-" then they continued to cry in my arms. My blood starting to boil, I wanted to hurt whoever did this but I couldn't figure it out with Darling sobs blocking their sweet song that most will call a voice. After some uncontrollable sobs later which I'm usually uncomfortable and awkward when people are crying but...with them it's different, everything was different with them, everything IS different with them, and I plan to keep it that way forever.

My darling soon confessed a nosy someone told her that I wasn't good for her; in other words that I, me, her lover was

Out of her league....

"Now let's think rationally, med school helped us with that one huh?" I whispered I'm starting to feel that voice again, trying to convince me. "Hold on loebe I need to think" I say letting them slip from my hands. "Think about what?" My Dove sweetly asked. "Hold on"

'Screw it. SCREW THEM! THOSE SAD EXCUSES FOR A "DOCTOR". I HAVE LEARNED NOTHING I COULDN'T FIGURE OUT ON. MY. OWN!

With my great doctoring skills, I'll make sure the sorry, sorry person will be out of everyone and EVERYTHINGS league...'

*sigh*

"Okay liebe my dear, I'll handle it. I'll make sure they will never again..

-have the mere confidence to

-ever confront you again...,

-I promise.."

"Your side is coming out again, Listen to yourself" I reasoned with him

'I'm done having conversations in my own head about what's good for my darling. We SHARE her. If and when something hurts her it's MY job to make it better so shut. up.'

I am THE cruel, evil, twisted, demented, unreasonable,

Medic...

"I heard you were talking to my darling, Told her something unbelievably stupid, sounds about right?" "Look I didn't mean it like that she's too sensitive" he said while rolling his eyes. My job is to protect Y/N, my job is to know that he told her that because he had feelings for me and wanted to sabotage our love for each other, my job is to take care of him and take care of my darling in a complete different way. My job is to kill what other me can't, who Y/N can't. My job is to kill

I plunged the knife in his stomach causing the waste of space to collapse. 'Ill do more with him later ' I thought to myself. He kept on groaning and cursing wishing some sort of horrible unspeakable pain onto me.

Little does he know..

He'll be taking that same fate he speaks.

I get him into my basement then run back to the roof to my lover.

She's gone

"Y/N!?"

I rush to their room and desperately knock for them to open up their day. I feel desperate to see them even though I couldn't figure out why, I didn't care. Just wanted to see them

"Ye-?oh hi. Why did you leave me alone up there like that? It- nevermind"

"Apologizes Y/N. I'm coming back slowly I'm going a little off the rails"

"You were supposed to comfort me what the hell?"

"Again I'm sorry I wasn't there I wasn't feeling like myself but I did take care of it. If it'll make you feel better, we can hug all day if you'd like" I offered with a smile, returning to my normal self. "Really?! Yes, yes,yes one hundred percent yes!" We cuddled and played their favorite YouTube videos which I wouldn't like to admit, I wasn't very interested in. "Babe I know you don't like watching them I can tell, I'll turn it off when it's done" "no, no that won't be necessary there are some...funny parts......sorta" "SEE I knew it! You don't like it" they said sitting up from laying on my chest. "I.. uh okay well maybe I don't but you do so it doesn't matter. I have to catch up with something later anyway" after that their jaw drops and they stare. "What?" "You said you'd cuddle with me allllll day" "Oh I did? I forgot I said that last part...heh" I nervously laughed but their face was unamused. "Fine!"

I watched YouTube until they fell asleep and started to drool.

"Sweet dreams, Y/N"

"Now it's time to punish the waste of space, trash."

I went down to the basement and saw the bloody wreck in the corner he leaned closer to the corner frantically pleading me to not kill him. "I will kill you, unfortunately for you but first I'll need to make you REGRET ever speaking to her..."

The next day, Darling was fine and happy like usual. No weird sleeping patterns of going to bed at 8, avoiding me and others ect she's just... herself. I'm glad and if anyone tries to mess with her, with our happiness,

I'll deal with it...