#congrats Henry - he really earned it

[arkarti]

Congrats, Henry. Well done for getting humped by a murderous golden rabbit. 👏

Here is your new licence.

HELLO!! 😳😂 help that's so funny (not yet murderous, but sure as fuck a big ass golden rabbit)

[stepintothelimelight]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ DON’T STOP ME NOW!

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　° I’m a racing car,

passing by

like lady godiva ✧ ⁺ ┊

PART 1 of the Spitfire Saga

TRAILER: Spitfire makes her F1 debut and changes the world of F1 forever

(2017!grid x genz!fem!reader)(SMAU)

For more Spitfire content go to my account and it’s my pinned post since tumblr hates me and won’t let me link anything :)

WARNINGS: not a lot lol language?, suggestive stuff but in a bad way, sexism, that one picture of max 💀, for me, spitfire is american, so there will be references to american things (I’m american)

fc: random girls (mostly drivers) i found in pinterest + valtteri bottas

Aaaaannnnd ACTION!

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twitter

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yourusername just shared a story!

Caption: [AP calc ❌ abu dhabi ☑️]

Replies:

charles_leclerc: Congrats, Mate! Just heard the good news! yourusername: jelly? charles_leclerc: I try to be nice and this is what I get ☹️ yourusername: liked a message

max33verstappen: Can’t wait to see you on the track yourusername: aww 😚 yourusername: only took me 3 years to catch up with you maxie 😁😁 max33verstappen: Good luck trying to catch me in the track, Schat. yourusername: 😠😠

user4: no one wants you here

user5: Give the seat to Schumacher. He deserves it 53847822 more times than you do.

yourbestfriend1: Take me with youuuuuu 😭 yourbestfriend1: I don’t want to deal with mr Henry alone 😞 yourusername: bro i would if i could but merc literally kidnapped me out of calc 😒 dw tho i still have to do henry’s work just in a plane ☹️ yourbestfriend1: liked a message

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yourusername just shared a story!

Caption: [first time in a f1 car kinda nervy]

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mercedesamgf1 ☑️

Welcome to the paddock, Y/n!

tagged: yourusername

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and 238809 others

view 6389 comments:

yourusername: awww thanks admin ❤️

user6: Schumacher better

user7: def gonna crash out in FP1

carlossainz55: ¡bienvenida Spitfire!

⮑ user18: the fact that everyone calls her Spitfire 🥲

user9: poser

⮑ user8: how is she a poser? She earned her place just like any other alternate would

⮑user9: she obviously sleeps her way to the top

⮑ user8: SHE IS BARELY 18!

user10: All y’all honestly hating on a teenage girl right now 🤡🤡

⮑ user11: literally it’s pathetic

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twitter:

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yourusername

yourusername: POLE POSITYOSN!!!

ps sorry 4 swearing on the radio 😔

pps i didn’t just catch you max, i beat you 😇xx

tagged: mercedsamgf1, max33verstappen

liked by lewishamilton, f1 and 63729 others

view 16738 comments:

user19: icon

user20: proved them all wrong!

⮑user21: not like she won a race 🙄🙄

⮑user20: not like you could do any better 🙄🙄

user24: my homegirl really did max dirty

user25: Absolutely VIOLATED Verstappen

user54: how does she have that picture?

⮑ user55: her and max are childhood friends. they were karting rivals

⮑ user56: she, him and Charles were the big 3 of their age division

⮑ user54: isn’t she younger than them, though?

⮑user55: she raced 2 years up

lewishamilton: An honor to be on the track with you! History in the making 💪🏾

⮑ yourusername: 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 LEWIS ON MY POST LEWIS ON MY POST 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

⮑charles_leclerc; Chèrie, you’re embarrassing me

⮑yourusername: u don’t need my help to do that 👍

user22: her and Charles HELP

max33verstappen: was that last picture necessary?

⮑ yourusername: very.

user23: her and Max HELP

pierregasly: Great to race with you again!

♡ by creator

danielricciardo: amazing driving, Spitfire! (and thank you for the blackmail 🙏🙏)

⮑yourusername: happy to help

⮑max33verstappen: 👎

landonorris: glad to see one of the ‘99s making a mark around here ❤️

⮑yourusername: awwwww lan 😗 come to f1

⮑landonorris: i lost my pass ☹️

⮑yourusername: again? ☹️

user24: Y/n and Lando 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨?

⮑yourusername: OH HEYLLLLL NAWWE

⮑landonorris: EEWWWW

⮑user24: what the hell 😭

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yourbestfriend1 just shared a story!

Caption: [literally sobbing @/yourusername] ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

f1 ☑️

f1: WINNER! 

Y/n L/n becomes the first woman to win a formula one grand prix! She also becomes the youngest ever Grand Prix winner at 18 years, 37 days and the first driver to win on their debut race since 1961! 

Congratulations, yourusername, in the words of @lewishamilton: “history in the making.”

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1 

liked by max33verstappen, taylorswift and 63738 others

Congratulations, yourusername, in the words of @lewishamilton: “history in the making.”

tagged: yourusername, Mercedesamgf1 

view 8367 comments

mercedesamgf1: THAT’S OUR GIRL!!!!!!

⮑ user25: Y/n seat when??

⮑yourusername: yeah, when??? 😇😇😇 (joking pls don’t fire me xoxo)

user26: Y/n in the comments begging for a job is so relatable

user27: rigged

user28: Obviously a PR stubt

⮑user29: How? She outpaced everyone in Qualifying and held pole for the whole race

⮑user28: last race of the season, they need some new fans, so they bring in a woman and tell everyone to drive slower to get more traffic. It’s not rocket science 

⮑user30: the only rocket science is how on earth you got to that conclusion

scuderiaferrari: a historic race! @/yourusername

yourusername: Thank you @/f1 and @/mercedesamgf1 for this incredible opportunity. History was made tonight ❤️❤️❤️

⮑user31: damn right it was

yourusername: ALSO DID WE SEE THAT TAYLOR SWIFT LIKED THE POST???? @taylorswift ILYSM!!! TIWWCHNT IS LITERALLY MY HYPE SONG!!!!

⮑user32: ofc she’s a swiftie

⮑yourusername: what is that supposed to mean?? being a swiftie is the only way to live ??? how can you breathe without listening to reputation on repeat????

⮑ user33: TIWWCHNT STANS UNITE

⮑ taylorswift: @/yourusername: congrats on the win! Here’s to you, an inspiration to all of us women fighting our ways into men’s worlds! 🥂🍾

⮑yourusername: OH MY GODDDDDDD

⮑user34: is she still breathing?

⮑maxverstappen33: no

         ⮑danielricciardo: no

         ⮑mercedesamgf1: no

         ⮑charles_leclerc: no

         ⮑carlossainz55: no

         ⮑lewishamilton: no

         ⮑f1: no

         ⮑user35: is @/user34 still breathing?

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yourusername

yourusername: WHAT A WEEKEND!!

Mercedes!! tysm for trusting me in your car and i hope that i did you proud!!! this week has been a dream 🤍

Valtteri: I know that my win tonight is due to your misfortune, and I’m sorry we will never get to race together on the track. I hope I did you proud.

Seb, to whom I’m dedicating my maiden win to. Without you, I would be no where. your never ending support and willingness to help are the reasons i’ve been able to race as long as i have. you named me spitfire all the way back in f4 and now that nickname will live in the legendd of the sport forever.

History was made tonight, and even if this is the last race i ever drive in a formula 1 car, i’ll rest easier knowing that my win in abu dhabi 2017 will inspire the next generation of female athletes in motorsport.

Thank you to everyone who came out to support Mercedes tonight!

xx Spitfire

tagged: lewishamilton, mercedesamgf1, valtteribottas and f1

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewis hamilton and 380278 others 

view 279491 comments

user36: say what you want about her, what she accomplished tonight is legendary

lewishamilton: Congratulations! Looking forward to seeing you around the track next year!

⮑user37: around, not on 😔

⮑user38: Everyone join hands in prayer that Lewis doesn’t know anything about Bottas’ seat being filled and is just being nice

⮑user39: 🤝

⮑user40:🤝

⮑user41:🤝

⮑user42: 🤝

⮑yourusername: 🤝

⮑user38: GDJEIWOSK she’s so unserious 😂😂

⮑yourusername: ❤️❤️❤️

estebanocon: Amazing race, Y/n!

♡ by creator

user49: YOU DON’T BELONG HERE

charles_leclerc: great to see you finally live out your dream, mate ❤️🍾

⮑yourusername: luv ya charlie 🥂

⮑user43: CHARY/N CONFIRMED??

⮑ yourusername: 😬😑🤨

⮑ user44: Y/n really out in the trenches fighting every romance rumor

max33verstappen: I let you win…

⮑yourusername: Lying is a sin, Max Emilian Verstappen.

⮑ user45: dayumm the full government name too

⮑user46: and proper punctuation!!! max lock your doors 😰

⮑max33verstappen: Why do I feel like something bad is going to happen to me tonight?

⮑ yourusername: because something bad is going to happen to you tonight.

⮑user47: Max getting threatened on main 😂😂

danielricciardo: Great race and even better weekend! Fun getting to know you, Spitfire!

♡ by creator

user60: Anyone see the way she was crying when she got out of the car? Couldn’t even walk, so emotional. Pathetic.

⮑user61: Ome of the many reasons women aren’t supposed to race in F1

serenawilliams: love seeing a strong woman! Keep up the good work, Y/n! 🏆

⮑yourusername: i gasped

⮑yourusername: the 🐐 is here

user51: PR stunt.

user52: Ruining F1

⮑ user53: She’s turning F1 into a joke

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yourusername just shared a story!

caption: [otw home 😴😴]

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twitter

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2.5 weeks later….

mercedesamgf1

Proud to announce that we have signed a new driver to fill Valtteri Bottas’ seat! Please officially welcome Y/n L/n to the paddock!

tagged: yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, valtteribottas and 573011 others

view 8739 comments

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✧ ⁺ ⁺ don’t wanna stop

at all…┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺ 　°

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Aaaannnnnnd scene!

DIRECTOR’S CUT: hehe part 1 done! Sorry for any innacuracies and/ or mistakes. Turns out making these SMAUs is A LOT of work. Like a boatload of work. Anyway, see u in part 2!

A little background info:

Seb is Spitfire’s mentor and funded her career since 2009

Charles Max and Spitfire terrorized their Karting generation

Seb gave her the nickname- in German F4 she was well known to be very blunt and had a very fast mouth. Seb called her it over live TV once and it stuck

Lando and Spitfire are old friends since they were always a little different from the rest of the kids - she was a girl and he looked like a toddler

Want to join the taglist? drop a comment below or message my inbox

[llamaisllama777]

TSAMS,LAES,MGAFS WEEKLY*/DAILY* EPISODE REVIEW! JULY 16 THE EDITION! 🫣😬😭

Okay, let's get ready for the trauma...

STARTING OUT WITH A GUT PUNCH! Oof.

Props to Davis, his acting skills are really good! 👍 I can really hear the horror and sadness in Sun's voice as he realizes that Dazzle is one of the July 16th victims. He just sounded so broken. Everyone handled this extremely well, Dazz,Sun, and Jack, all handled this very well. Sun's probably gonna need a few days to recover, but it's good he knows... I think.

I'm also pleasantly surprised by Jack. I thought he was gonna overhear that Sun hurt Dazz and then fly into a rage and try and attack Sun, but he showed great restraint, and I'm proud of him for that. But all I can say is WOW, THIS EPISODE IS A GUT PUNCH! Sad/10 😢 😭

AND ANOTHER GUT PUNCH! 😭😢 Sun remembers EVERY. SINGLE. ONE of the July 16th victims' names and every single detail about them, like how one loved superheroes and dressed like a Superman/Spider-man fusion, two of them were twins one loved mustard, the other hated it, and one wore seven rings pops always, I don't think I could remember little details like that but he does! Wow. He feels so bad for what he did to the kids. Even though it wasn't his fault, he felt like he should have gotten punished for he did, but he didn't. He got away with it and feels like he shouldn't have. Is that like some form of survivors guilt? Moon definitely earned some brother points here, caring for Sun, talking with him, not getting mad about the July 16th stuff. He's definitely changed since the series first started. Good on you, Moon. Also, the best jokes in this episode came from him.

Moon: We could order Arby's. I want use to feel really bad about ourselves.

Moon: I'll just order Olive garden.

Sun: Do they even deliver?

Moon: They will when I'm done.

This a great episode I really did love it. Davis, Reed, everyone, you guys did amazing 👏

Now on from Sun's trauma to Puppet's.

I love the thumbnail. Puppet's putting on a smile while internally she's like AHHHHHHHH!

We have finally met Charlie, not gonna lie, I was halfly expecting a rebellious teen, Charlie, but instead, we got hyper goofy a little bit rebellious, Charlie. I can live with that. Charlie is like Puppet's number one fan, and I love that, too. Meanwhile, Puppet is going full protector mode on Charlie... let's just hope she's more successful than our Puppet from the main fnaf universe. I'm still very curious about how this puppet works? Is this like a fourth closet situation, but instead of making four Charlie bots, Henry made a puppet with Charlie's personality? I think it's something like that. I'm gonna love having Charlie around more. We just need to protect her from Puppeteer/Anti-Puppet.

Also, did anyone else notice Charlie had a puppet toy?

ALSO!

CONGRATS ON 100K DAVIS AND VALENTINE!

🎊🥳👏👏👏 let's go!!!!!!

You guys work so hard, and you deserve all the subscribers you've earned. 👏 👏 👏 👏

16th/10 😭👍👏

Seriously, these were great episodes.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Congrats on 6000 🎉🥳👏 and I hope u don’t mind if I join in even though I’ve done this before…

Fandom: Flexible/open minded :)

Gender: Man of my dreams please :)

Personality: I mean. It’s me, Aurora, hi 😅 People are constantly growing and changing but cliff notes would be, right now, that I think I’m boring but also no one can keep up with me, I’m a homebody but I crave adventure, I’m a cranky wet cat but also please please hug me, I most probably have adhd but not the hyper aspect I will sit still daydreaming about waterfalls or something for 6 hours and not notice because what is time, I like everything except the stuff I don’t, basically I’m a hot mess of contradictions and have just as much fun with Jane Austen as I do Star Trek. So open minded I guess. Other people call me independent (yeah), smart (sort of? but oblivious), brave (not really?), and funny (I try). I have well earned trust issues and am not above being stubborn and snarky, especially when I’m not feeling well. I can’t decide if the right man for me is the sunshine to my grumpy or someone more similar and witty who I can vibe with. Maybe someone in the middle? Thank you very much in advance :))

For you 🥰

Who I ship you with and why: I’m joining the Gale bandwagon I’m so sorry it’s not creative, but he’s the romantic nerd you deserve. You are both thoughtful and well read and I can just seeing you two having long conversations wrapped in blankets by a fireside with some tea, all cosy, leaning on each other and sharing Shakespeare’s “true minds”. I think he’s the sort of guy who would delight to be supportive and carve out a workspace for you in his tower to work on your dreams too, side by side :) I also see you bringing each-other balance, you’re more sensible side being a good reality check for some of his wilder ambitions, and his confidence would make him your #1 fan. He’s telling EVERYONE how amazing you are and “did you know she wrote the most amazing book, and this is the plot…” :)

I ship you with Henry Tilney

Let's do something a bit difference and show our love for an underappreciated Jane Austen man.

If there is anybody who is open to contradictions it's Henry Tilney, he's got plenty himself. He'd love your snark and would be just as willing to give it back. The pair of you could likely go on for hours quipping back and forth until you can't keep up the game anymore and just start laughing.

He's also just as willing to indulge your fanciful side, enjoying it himself, while also being the lead to bring you back to the here and now. More importantly, however, he is kind and has seen a lot of the world. He knows how cruel and unfair it can be. Admittedly sometimes it brings his down as well, but he doesn't want it to. The pair of you could help each other figure out the balance.

I'm crying! This is honestly the dream. I do love a man who expresses interest in my interests.

6K Follower Celebration (Request Are Open)

(17/30)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Crushing - Harry Styles

a/n: just a little something that was inspired by a tiktok and @pastequeharry​ !

pairing: Harry X Famous!Reader

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

“Welcome back, I hope has everyone returned from our little break because we are playing a fun little game with Y/N, who by the way won a Grammy award for best new artist this weekend, so congratulations on that!”

Ellen smiles at you widely as she claps along with the audience and you’re just smiling shyly, still not quite used to the sound of it.

“Thank you,” you nod looking around.

“Okay, we are going to play a round of who’d you rather. Are you familiar with the game?” she asks you.

“Yes, I’ve seen others play it before.”

“Great. For those who don’t know the game, two people will show up on the screen and Y/N will have to choose one. Whoever she chooses will come with us to the next round and at the end we’ll know who is her ultimate crush.”

“Ah man,” you huff, feeling a little nervous about who they are gonna show you and the audience laughs at your reaction as your fingers dig into the armrest of the armchair you’re sitting comfortably in.

“Are you ready?” Ellen questions with a smile that tells you just how much she is enjoying this.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be, but let’s get started,” you chuckle nervously.

“Okay, let’s see our first pair,” she starts and two pictures show up on the big screen and on the smaller one at the front of the stage so you don’t have to crane your neck. “So we have Zendaya and Tom Holland. Who are you choosing?”

“You really had to start with two of my biggest Marvel crushes?!” you whine and the audience starts laughing again as you chew on your bottom lip, trying to decide. “I love them both, but I’m gonna have to go with Zendaya, because in height, we would be better. I’m sorry Tom, I still love you!” you declare, looking around all cameras, hoping they all got your confession.

“Alright. So now we’ll keep Zendaya and move on to the next person, who is… Harry Styles. Zendaya or Harry Styles?”

The blood rushes out of your face as you see a picture of Harry, memories of the two of you meeting at the award show in the weekend flooding back to your mind. Harry has been a crush of yours since probably forever. You’ve been a fan of his since his One Direction days and your career started to take off sometime around the time he started his solo career, only difference is that it took you a little longer to earn yourself a name in the industry. But this weekend you finally met him for the first time, in real life, without you just watching him on the stage with four other men.

You spotted him at the area that led to the red carpet, he was about to step out when his eyes laid on you and though he was wearing a mask, you still knew he was smiling from the little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes. Your breath caught in your throat, stopping in your track as you were holding up your gown so you wouldn’t trip and fall with all the cameras around.

“Y/N! Hi!” he greeted you stepping closer, as if the two of you were old friends.

“Hi!” you managed to speak up, feeling completely starstruck.

“Love the gown! You look wonderful!” he complimented you and you could feel your cheeks heating up so fast.

“Oh, thank you, but I think you’re stealing the show with the boas,” you chuckled making him laugh as well.

“Thank you. Congrats on the nomination, I really hope you win by the way.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Listened to the album, it’s really good,” he nodded and your heart skipped a beat. Harry Styles listened to your album and he liked it? This must be Heaven, but when did you die?

“Thank you so much! I hope you win too, though your chances are better with your three nominations,” you joked making him laugh again.

“Yeah, just a little,” he nodded. “Here, let me help you.” He offered you his arm helping you step up the few steps that lead to the area where the red carpet photos were taken and you were thankful for the help, though you could already hear all the camera’s clicking in your way and you knew the photos would be all over the internet by the next day.

You only met one more time during the evening and you could only congratulate to each other on the wins before you both were snatched away, but you still play your conversation with him in your head before you go to bed in the evening.

“Um, Zendaya is everything but I’m gonna play this game honestly so I’ll choose Harry.”

The audience starts cheering and clapping at the decision as Ellen smirks at you, nodding along.

“No need to be shy, we all have a crush on Harry probably,” she jokes making you laugh. “Okay, next up we have… Harry Styles and The Weeknd.”

“I’m gonna stick to Harry,” you answer probably a little too fast, but if you’re being honest, they can’t show you anyone at this point who would beat Harry.

“Harry stays, next we have Harry and… Florence Pugh.”

“You guys made sure to make it hard for me!” you chuckle staring at the screen. “But I’m still gonna stick to Harry, though I love them both.”

“Alright, for the next round we have Harry Styles and Niall Horan.”

“I’m upset, because as a One Direction fan, I should not be forced to choose between them,” you point at Ellen, giving her a hard look which the audience finds quite hilarious.

“I’m sure you had ranked them before, don’t be shy,” she smirks and you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, no offence to anyone but Harry stays. Sorry Niall, I still love you though,” you add with a smile.

“Harry is in a winning streak, it seems. Okay, let’s see his next opponent. Harry against Chris Evans.”

“Harry,” you answer with a sigh, crossing your legs, knowing well you will not choose anyone over Harry.

“Fast answer, great. Harry Styles or Ariana Grande.”

“Love Ariana, she’s a queen, but Harry,” you answer with a smile, the audience enjoying your obsession over Harry Styles and at this point you are not even trying to hide it.

“Harry Styles or Henry Cavill?”

“Harry,” you answer right away.

Henry’s picture disappears and Harry’s moves to the middle as the game comes to its end.

“Seems like we have a winner here. Harry Styles beat everyone!” Ellen chuckles as you glance at the big screen, blushing a little, but you are hoping your makeup is covering it well.

“You said it yourself, everyone has a crush on him,” you shrug, trying to play it cool.

“Yes, but not everyone was helped out by him,” she smirks as a photo of the two of you appears on the screen from last weekend and you cover your face with your hands as the audience goes wild.

“He is a gentleman,” you sigh dreamily.

“He really is and I have to say that the two of you look great together.”

“Oh stop it,” you chuckle, playing it over a little, just to make it less obvious how giddy even the thought makes you.

“Well, now we know that he is your number one choice, hopefully he’ll take the next step,” Ellen chuckles before moving on and asking you a few more questions as part of your appearance on the show.

Weeks go by and you kind of forget about the whole interview. It blows up the next few days, but nothing really happens, people just get excited that you are crushing on Harry just like everyone else, but it dies down pretty quickly.

You barely recovered from your Grammy win and yet you are already marching towards another milestone in your career. None other than Gucci asked you to be part of their new campaign in an amazing photoshoot and you just couldn’t say no, not that you ever even thought about it. After some online meetings and sending emails back and forth the first fitting’s day has finally arrived and you are buzzing!

Heading down to the showroom to go over every outfit they want you to wear for the photos, you can’t wipe the excited grin off your face. Growing up you could only dream about owning anything Gucci, now you are going to be promoting them so it truly is a dream come true.

Arriving you are walked into the showroom that is now filled with racks of clothes and there’s a podium with three mirrors surrounding it for the fitting.

“Y/N! Hi! So nice to finally meet you after all the emails and calls!” Nancy, the creative director of the campaign greets you.

“Nice to meet you too!”

“We are in a little bit of delay, I’m very sorry about that, but we can start in about ten minutes, if that’s alright with you.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m free all day,” you assure her before she thanks your patience and runs off to finish off whatever she was doing before.

Wandering around you take a look at the beautiful clothes on the racks, blown by basically everything you see and you can’t wait to wear the outfits that were meant for you. In the back of the room, a part is closed off for a changing area and you hear the door opening as Nancy walks out first, talking to someone following her behind and when you see the person, you freeze.

Harry Styles walks out, wearing a just a shirt and jeans, looking very casual but still, unbelievably hot. The man could wear a potato sack and still look better than any other men.

“Thank you so much,” he smiles at Nancy before his eyes lay on you, a wide smirk tugging on his lips in realization. “So nice to see a familiar face!” he beams, walking closer before he pulls you in for a short hug that catches you by surprise, but also warms your chest.

“Hi, didn’t expect to see you here, though you are kind of one with the brand at this point,” you tease him making him laugh.

“I am, yeah. I heard that you would be featured in the campaign as well. Amazing choice,” he smirks, glancing over at Nancy who smiles proudly, clearly agreeing with him.

“Y/N, I’ll get the changing room ready for you and we can start in five, alright?” Nancy informs you.

“Yeah, thank you!” You nod in her way and she is already off to do the work, leaving you and Harry alone.

“So, I learned some interesting information the other day,” he hums with a serious face and he got you curious about what it could be.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, you know, I was watching The Ellen Show and you were on, playing a little game.”

“Oh my God,” you breathe out, already feeling the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks. Harry smirks down at you, clearly enjoying that he got you so nervous and embarrassed of what happened.

“I wish I knew about your little crush earlier!” he teases you, making your groan.

“And why is that? So you could pull my leg at the Grammy’s when I was already shitting my pants?”

Harry lets out a chuckle shaking his head as he hides his hands in his pockets, his eyes running up and down your figure before they meet with your gaze again.

“No. Because then I wouldn’t have talked myself down from asking for your number.”

You can’t help the stunned reaction that takes over your face at his blunt flirting, your lips part as your eyebrows shoot up while Harry just stares back at you with a sly smirk on his deliciously pink lips.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, but now that I know that you are crushing on me just like I’m crushing on you, I think it’s time to make the first step. So…” he pulls his phone out and hands it over to you and continues while you type your number in. “I’m not just asking for your number, but I happened to hear that you have nothing else planned for the day, is that true?”

“It is,” you nod, feeling out of breath as you hand him back his phone, your number saved in his contacts.

“Then how about grabbing lunch after your fitting? I happen to have nothing today as well, we should take advantage of it,” he suggests and you can’t push your stunned smile down.

“Sounds good,” you nod, biting into your bottom lip.

“Great. I’ll run some errands while you are here and I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“You could stay here if you want, I don’t mind it,” you tell him, feeling like he is only leaving because he doesn’t want to intrude.

“I would love to, but I really want to see the final outcome of the campaign and not spoil it for myself,” he smirks making you chuckle.

“Alright. Then see you in an hour.”

“Yeah,” he nods with a boyish smirk before turning around and walking out of the showroom.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[soft-october-night]

The Love Interests in the Works of Jane Austen: An Assessment

This is an "extremely scientific" and "thoroughly researched" ranking based on personality, money, family and connections, and is a bit of a blend between the book characterizations and the film characterizations (and is in no way only based on my own opinions). Here we go, grouped by book but not much else.

Edmund Bertram: absolute trash. His family has treated you unbelievably shitty since day one and not only has he BARELY noticed, he ALSO has treated you shitty. Will fall in love with someone beautiful and fun and when she dumps him will come crawling to you for a rebound. His passion for you is so lackluster that even the esteemed author who wrote about it barely spared a paragraph on your relationship. Has a job but only because his dad owns the land the church is built on. You’ll gain no connections or family by marrying him, since he’s literally your cousin.  0/10

Henry Crawford: There IS such thing as too much fun, and that is never clearer than in this man, who will try to seduce you as a game, freak out when his middling overtures don’t work and then try and seduce you “for really real” this time. You will definitely move up in the world if you marry him, and if you play your cards right it seems like his sister is also just REALLY into you, so see how that goes. Life will be pretty okay until you find him in bed with one (or more, who knows) of your relations. 3/10, 8/10 if you’re into that

John Willoughby: Will be like something out of a romance novel, you’re thinking he’s going to propose and then he just fucking ghosts you and embarrasses the fuck out of you at a party by acting like he doesn’t know you. Somehow marry him (congrats on the inheritance you must have, btw) and get ready to take a backseat to the whims of his aunt for as long as she lives. 1/10, at least you get to live in a nice house.

Edward Ferrars: Oh Edward. He’s a bit of a mess, isn’t he? Super kind, your family loves him, he made a bunch of stupid decisions in his youth that are coming back to bite him in the ass. He is loyal to an absolute fault, but you luck out when his fiance turns out to be a bit of a gold digger and dumps him when his mom disowns him. He doesn’t have a job and neither do you, but his family doesn’t wanna speak to him (lucky you!) and you’ll be happy and poor together if you two can work on your communication skills. 7/10.

Colonel Brandon: He’s got a nice house, the respect of his friends and the community, and he has a LOT of passion. He’ll give your sister’s penniless husband a job, dramatically rescue you from a rainstorm, make sure his dead girlfriend’s daughter is happy and taken care of even after your ex fucks HER over too, and is all around a pretty decent guy. Just. Uh. Maybe, kinda, sorta, needs to go after women his own age and is probably with you because you remind him of his dead girlfriend. 5/10 with the wildly inappropriate age gap, 9/10 without it.

Mr. Wickham: Please don’t. He’s a thirsty bitch who lives for drama and you think he’s fun until you find out he tried to sleep with one teenage girl and is making eyes at your fifteen year old sister behind your back. Marry him (through the grace of mysterious benefactors, cause he ain’t marrying anyone unless he’s paid the right price) and get ready for a life of being surrounded by military men in the north of England while your husband tries to fuck everything that moves. Work that out somehow with him and you might actually be happy. 0/10.

Mr. Bingley: He is a softboi who will do literally anything his friends tell him to do. He is SUPER rich, and marrying him will throw your sister’s into the path of other rich men and he is REALLY into you, but get ready to be sucking up to his sisters for literally the rest of your life. Unless he can ship Miss Bingley off to live with Mrs. Hurst, have fun trying to wage a war of barely concealed insults over the breakfast table every morning, and if you’re marrying Bingley I’m sorry but that is a war you just cannot win. He doesn’t have a job but he does have five thousand a year, and neither of you can manage money. You’ll love simply and deeply and be happy as any two can be. 8/10.

Mr. Collins: Last resort to rescue yourself from a life of being a burden to your parents until they die and then having to become a governess or something. Has a job but never shuts up about his boss. You will have to rearrange everything in your house according to his boss’ will. 2/10

Mr. Darcy: Is a anxious disaster who doesn’t know how to talk to girls at parties and needs to learn how say no to going out when he’s just not feeling it. He doesn’t have a job because he’s a landlord; he owns half of Derbyshire and has ten thousand a year, but turns out that all of that money and land can’t buy tact or charisma. Doesn’t know how to flirt and thinks he’s doing a great job (he’s not). He’ll propose to you out of the fucking blue one day by insulting literally everything about you, but don’t worry! Reading his letter unlocks Darcy 2.0. This patched version gives him humility, a personality, and he WILL gain the ability to rescue your family from utter ruin. Marry him and enjoy a life of luxury and witty ripostes, but beware! You ARE going to have to deal with Lady Catherine until the day she dies, not to mention Caroline Bingley’s barely concealed contempt every time you meet in polite company. Darcy 1.0 3/10, Darcy 2.0 8/10.

Captain Wentworth: Absolutely top tier. Has a job, has earned everything he has, including a fortune and the respect of his peers, superiors, and subordinates. His sister and her husband are practically the only happily older married couple you know, his friends are super fun and nice (even the dour one with all the poetry knows how to have a polite conversation). If you dumped him ten years ago on the advice of your almost comically shitty family yeah, he’s going to hold a grudge, but he WILL NEVER STOP LOVING YOU and the MOMENT he gets over his pride will do everything and anything in his power (including leaping the bounds of propriety!) to win you back. Based on his love, money, and connections you should RUN, not walk, into his arms TODAY and allow him to rescue you from your family and whisk you off to see the world on his ship, at least until Napoleon busts out of Elba. 12/10

Mr. Eliot: Will lose all your old schoolfriend’s husband’s money in a bad deal, has debts out the ass, might be trying to get with either you or the woman your dad has been flirting with for the last few years, you’re not sure. Is totally ruining the rekindling relationship you’re trying to get going with your far superior ex. He wants the land and title your dad has and will stop at nothing to get it. Marry him and you can move back into your old house (maybe? it’s a little unclear what with all the debts) but have every single cent your mother left you immediately put into some dumbass scheme. 1/10

Henry Tilney: another softboi who just wants to act in the school play while his dad and brother plan to ship him off to military school and berate him for not joining the football team. Bring him shopping with you to pick out dresses, spend long nights over tea chatting about books. Has a job, but again, only because his dad owns the land the church is on. Loves you even though you have some very strange ideas about his house, and will forgive you when he realizes you thought his dad either murdered or imprisoned his mom. If he can find the courage to tell his dad to fuck off and let him live his own life, expect a long, happy marriage of snuggling together in a window seat somewhere, sipping tea and reading. 9/10

John Thorpe: Trash bastard man. Peaked in whatever equivalent of high school he had. Shitty and rude to everyone, would post racist memes on facebook and start fights if he could, all while being shitty and manipulative and CREEPILY possessive of you. -2/10

Robert Martin: A sweet himbo farmer who just wants to love and worship you. He has a job, is pretty rich, and while his connections may not be above his class, he’s an earnest boy who wants to take care of you and be taken care of in turn. Marry him the first time, absolutely do NOT let your friend influence you against him, because who KNOWS if you will get a second proposal! (You will, he likes you THAT much.) Marry him and enjoy a sweet, simple life of exactly zero drama (unless your friend is around). 7/10

Mr. Elton: Trifling gold digging trash who doesn’t know what the word no means. Do not marry, unless you want to be censured by decent, hardworking people -1/10

Frank Churchill: Knows how to have fun, but you know there’s something more going on. He won’t let you see his letters, he sends out secret notes, then he smiles and tells you that everything is totally a okay. Another boy with ANOTHER overbearing aunt, only this one doesn’t know how to say no. Marry him if you’ve got the money, but he will always be longing after the poor girl next door that auntie wouldn’t let him married, and would have cheated on you already if she was into it. 3/10

Mr. Knightly: He’s your brother in law and you’ve known him almost your whole life, so that’s a little sus, but he is also the ONLY person in your entire life who knows how to tell you no (and you really, REALLY need to be told no sometimes.) He is extremely wealthy, but more importantly he’s kind and caring about people who are considered “beneath” him. He will break his weird no dancing rule to dance with your shy friend, he will ream you out for being shitty to unwed spinsters who value your opinion, and somehow has the correct read on everyone all the time. You will gain no connections by marrying him, since the two of you already have the exact same connections anyway, but the two of you should be content in a test of wills that will last a lifetime. You’ll be very happy as long as he doesn’t get super pedantic and start correcting you about everything. 7/10

[robert-de-niro-only-fans]

The Lesser of Two Evils

Jimmy Conway x Paulie's Daughter Reader

Just felt like writing for Jimmy... Also bc I like @yesbelladoesstuff 's man more than my own apparently 😂😝

TW: mentions of crime, mention of age gap, implied smut

Word Count: 3k

After four long years full of hard work and missing your family, college was finally over! You hadn't gone far for college, and you visited as possible, but the work load of college doesn't always allow for that. For Paulie, it was important that you get a degree, even if you didn't have a "real" job after college; he just knew you were too smart, and you knew it would make him so proud that his little girl finished college.

You moved home on a Thursday after finals and took Friday to just spend time with your dad and the rest of your immediate family, before the rest of your "family" came over for the big party on Saturday. This included Tommy, Henry, and Jimmy and all the various "uncles" your dad did business with. It was a closed circle of people.

You had been home for holidays and summers in between semesters, but towards the end of college, you really started to realize that you weren't in the loop like you used to be. Tommy had really grown into a well-respected mobster, and you respected that they may make him within the next few years. He was still hot headed as ever though. As for Henry, it seemed like he tried to hold off as long as he could, as he had always had a huge crush on you, and everyone, including Paulie, had placed bets on when you two would get together. But he had started going out with this girl named Karen. You had only met her a few times, but you had heard that she kept Henry on the straight and narrow. Good for her.

Jimmy hadn't had too much change in his life during your years at college, except that he had too younger mobsters to help him on his various jobs. He made a lot more money because of them! You never thought when you went to college that you would find yourself missing Jimmy as much as you did; of course, you had always been close with him just like you were with Tommy and Henry, but there was just something about him. He was always very cool, and his jokes were few and far between but hilarious when he told them. He had always been protective over you in a way the other two weren't, you guessed because he was older, but he also let you get away with stuff your dad would've had a heart attack over. Hell, Jimmy encouraged bad behavior.

And that's where you found yourself early Saturday afternoon: fighting off thoughts of Jimmy, and a little nervous to see him because of it.

The table is all set, covered in a black table cloth, with gold and silver decorations everywhere to celebrate your graduation. A few dishes full of your favorite foods are set out, and more will arrive as the family does.

As the family pours in, the table fills with dishes and becomes surrounded by people you've known practically your whole life. You are handed envelopes full of cash, each one thicker than the last. That's how you did presents in this business.

You wondered where the boys were... It's unusual that they didn't show up first.

After a while, Henry arrives with Karen and they greet you with the usual hugs and kisses on the cheek; you can tell Karen is still getting used to greeting people like this. "Glad you have you home, (Y/N)! Congrats!" Henry exclaims. Rather than money, they gift you with a beautiful set of jewelry. You knew Karen was good for Henry, and now you know she has good taste.

"Oooh, there she is!" Jimmy yells as he's coming in the door. Tommy and Jimmy show up right after Henry and Karen. They were likely all hanging out before coming over, but you had to wonder why they didn't just take the same car. Tommy hands you a stack of cash, like he was taught to do, giving you kisses on your cheeks and a sincere congrats for graduating. Before you can really finish up your conversation with Tommy, Jimmy is scooping you up into his arms and twirling you around playfully, earning a squeal from you. "Atta girl! We knew you could do it!" He lets you down gently and pulls you in for a proper hug. "Congratulations, (Y/N). You know everyone here is so proud of you."

As you move back into the dining room and living room to rejoin the party and visit with everyone, Jimmy's hand lingers on you: your shoulder blades, the small of your back, wrapped lightly around your hip. He had always been a bit handsy with you; it's just how you two were with one another, but today it's affecting you more than usual.

Jimmy is wrapped up in a conversation about something he's been bootlegging with one of the uncles, so you turn to him to say, "Hey Jimmy, in gonna go sit with my dad at the table, 'cause I think we're eating soon. I'll save you a seat next to me, if you want it."

"Okay, sweetie, I'll be there in a little while."

You walk away taking a deep breath to try and clear your mind. Had you always felt this way about Jimmy or had something changed?

You say next to your dad and leaned your head on his shoulder.

"Hey there, girlie! You enjoying the party? Everything okay?"

"Yeah I'm okay. It's good seeing everyone again, and knowing that I get to stay home for good this time."

Paulie puts his arms around you, squeezing you tight. He always gave the best hugs! "I'm so happy you're back home. It's been pretty lonely without my girl here... Now I'm gonna have to beat off guys with a stick to keep you here," he lets out a chuckle.

"Oh, Dad, I'm not going anywhere, and you know that. Besides, Henry went and got a girlfriend, so there goes my only shot at a boyfriend."

"Now, you know Henry wasn't your only option. What about Tommy?"

You both look across the room to see Tommy flirting with someone's daughter...

"Ehhh, no," you and your dad say in unison before having a big laugh together.

"Is this seat taken?"

You look over your shoulder to see Jimmy standing behind the chair next to you, "Reserved for you."

"Oh, good!" Jimmy takes a moment to say hello to Paulie before sitting down next to you.

Paulie stands up to announce that it's time to eat, but first he makes a small speech to let everyone know how proud he is of you for finishing college, and that you were always too bright and talented to belong to him.

While Paulie is standing at the head of the table, Jimmy reaches over to your lap under the table and takes your hand in his. You look at him, trying to hide that he's affected you in any way. He gives you a small smirk, and rubs his thumb over yours for just a moment before letting your hand go.

Paulie takes his seat, and people start spooning food out of dishes and into their plates, and you're left wondering what just happened and what was meant by it.

Luckily, the rest of dinner was pretty uneventful, and the food was always so tasty. After everyone got their bellies full, everyone mingled wherever they liked around the house. Some went into the backyard to get a small bonfire going so some of the kids could have roasted marshmallows; some of the guys started inside the house and started pulling out cards and chips and stacks of money; many of the wives gather in the kitchen or the living room to talk all the latest gossip.

You notice Tommy, Jimmy, Henry, and Karen taking lowly and giggling with one another in a small circle. Normally they would've invited you over, so there's definitely something suspicious going on.

"(Y/N)!" Paulie says, waving you over, "come here, kiddo."

"Dad, I just finished college; I'm not really a kid anymore!" You give him a laugh and walk over to him.

He puts an arm over your shoulders and says, "Well, you'll always be my kid." He pauses for a moment before looking across the room and yelling, "Conway!"

The room quiets down, waiting for Jimmy's response. All of the guys and Karen turn to you and your dad. "Yes, Paulie?" Jimmy says with a smug look on his face.

"When you came in here, I didn't see you give my little girl any presents for her graduation. No cash, no cute little boxes with bows. What's the matter with you?" Paulie voice is raised so everyone can hear him. This is very odd behavior, as he normally handles things pretty quietly, so you know something is up.

"Well, ya see, Paulie..." Jimmy starts walking towards you, "I didn't hand her any envelope full of 50s, and I didn't give her any boxes with bows, because what I got for her was too big to fit through the front door." Jimmy lowers his voice to a whisper now that he's in front of you. "You wanna go see your present?"

You now realize that your dad and the guys are all in on some kind of surprise.

"Yes, please."

That's all Jimmy needs to hear before he's picking you up to take you outside. Henry and Tommy rush to the door to open it, and everyone that heard what was going on follows you outside to see what the surprise is.

You and Jimmy can't stop giggling while there are lots of hoots and hollers from everyone gathering outside with you. Jimmy lets you down and spins you around so you're facing the driveway. Sitting there is a beautiful black muscle car with a big gold bow on the hood.

He wraps his arms around your waist and whispers in your ear, "You like it, princess?"

"I- uh... yes," you can barely get a response out; you certainly weren't expecting this. Jimmy was all about handing out money and giving expensive gifts, but nothing like this... He didn't like to do anything that would put this kind of attention on him.

"It's the one you said you wanted right?"

"Yes, Jimmy. It's perfect," you say with a huge smile as you turn to hug him. "Thank you so much!"

"Anything for you, (Y/N)." Jimmy pulls a key out of his pocket and hands it to you. You take it from him and run over to unlock the car and climb in. Immediately, Tommy climbs in the front seat next you you and is shouting, "C'mon! Let's take this thing on a spin!!" Henry and Karen climb in the back seat and Henry only starts egging you on saying, "Let's crank this thing up and get outta here, (Y/N)!"

"Okay, okay! We'll drive it, but only if Jimmy comes too. He paid for the thing after all!"

"Jimmy! Get your ass over here!" Tommy yells before climbing in the back seat with Henry and Karen.

Jimmy runs over and gets in the passenger seat next you you. "Try not to kill us, okay?"

You turn the key in the ignition and the engine fires up loudly, which gets Henry and Tommy rowdy in the back seat. All the people in the front yard were raising their glasses and cheering as you backed out of the driveway! Before driving away from the house, you slowed down and Jimmy rolled down his window so Paulie could pop his head in.

"You guys be careful, and don't let anything happen to that one right there," he says pointing to you.

"Hell, Paulie, she's the one you gotta worry about!" Henry pipes up getting a laugh out of everyone.

"Yeah, well..." he chuckles, knowing it's true and realizing his little girl is all grown up. "Happy graduation, baby; go have fun!"

"Thank you, Dad! Love you!" you yell before driving off, a little too fast.

• • •

After you, the guys, and Karen, whom you had really grown to like, had been driving around a while, you decide to stop off at a small park while the sun sets. It's a cute little public park with a lake, a pavilion with tables for picnics, a small playground for kids (naturally the boys go and play on the playground), and lots of open space with soft grass.

With the boys being boys running around chasing each other, you and Karen get some time to talk alone.

"Seems like you've got Henry tied down pretty well. Takes a tough lady to do that."

"Yeah, well he stood me up on our second date, and so I told him off in front of his friends. We been together since."

"Oh yeah, word got back to me on that one. You had all the guys pretty shocked," you say though a laugh, "They made fun of him a good bit for it, so he must like you a lot if he put up with that."

"Yeah, I think he does." She pauses for a minute. "I've heard from some people that Henry always had a crush on you, and that everyone thought you two would end up together. I'm sorry if I got in the way of that."

"Oh, no! No need to apologize. Henry liked me when we were kids, and it feels like more of a joke now than anything. I don't think I could deal with him as well as you do," you give her a reassuring smile.

"So, you gonna give Jimmy a shot?"

"Hmm? What? You mean Jimmy and me?" You stutter out.

"Yeah, I mean, I know he's older, but it seems like he really likes you!"

"You think Jimmy likes me?"

"Well, yeah girl! He bought you ya dream car!" She says excitedly, her New York accent really shining through.

"Karen!" Henry calls from the playground.

"Whaddayou want?!"

"Come over here, honey!"

You see Jimmy walking towards you and Karen, and notice that Tommy is flirting with some poor girl who was just out for a run. Karen says a quick goodbye to you and heads over to the playground where Henry is waiting for you.

When Jimmy's feet stop in front of yours, he extends a hand to you to help you up from your spot on the grass. He places his hand on the small of your back, and his long fingers delicately begin to lead you in the direction of your new car.

"Did you have a fun time playing with your friends on the playground?" You poke a little fun at him.

"Would've had more fun if you were there," he raises his eyebrows and cracks a smile at you.

You laugh gently out your nose as you arrive at your car, "Whatcha bring me over here for?"

He takes you by the hips, lifting you up and placing you on the trunk of your car. He grabs your thighs and pulls you close to him, your knees brushing against either of his hips. "You like the car, angel?"

"Jimmy, wha-," you let out a shaky breath, "um, yes, it's beautiful."

"Mmmm, good." He brushes your hair behind your ear.

It suddenly becomes clear to you that what Karen had to say about Jimmy was true. In fact, with him standing between your legs like this, it couldn't be more obvious.

"Hey, Jimmy?"

"Yeah, baby doll?"

"Kiss me."

He raises his eyebrows, then looks at the ground for a moment. When he looks back up at you, he tangles a hand in your hair and presses his lips to yours softly at first, but he quickly deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with his. You gently wrap one arm around his neck, and the other hand squeezes his waist through his shirt. He pulls you into him so your chest is pressed against his.

It feels weird kissing him, but it also feels right. Being with him like this feels like electricity, and you could feel like this forever and it still wouldn't be enough.

"Hey, hey, Jimmy!" Henry calls as him and Karen come up on you.

"Do not interrupt them!" You hear Karen say followed by a whap to Henry's arm.

Jimmy slowly pulls away from you, giving you probably the sweetest look you've ever seen him give. He pecks your lips a few more times before turning to Karen. "Thank you for hitting him."

You slide off the back of the car, putting your hand in Jimmy's.

"Listen, all I'm saying is, it's about time you got a kiss from her, you paid a lot of money for it!" Henry chuckles, slapping the trunk of your car.

"Listen, Henry Hill. I kiss who I want, when I want. And yes, I am grateful for the car, but Jimmy didn't buy my love," you cut your eyes at him.

"Yeah, that's right! What's the matter with you?" Karen backs you up.

Henry puts his hands up in surrender and tries to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face, "Alright, alright, geez!! Can someone go get Tommy so we can go home?"

Everyone gives him a look.

"Okay, fine! I'll go get him!" Henry jogs off to go get Tommy off that girl's back.

Funny enough, the girl ends up coming home with the group, Tommy landing another girl that he won't call in the morning. So you drop everyone off at their respective homes: Tommy and his girl at Tommy's place, Henry and Karen at Henry's place, and Jimmy invited you to his place. You knew Paulie would worry about you not coming home, but it would raise his blood pressure if he knew what you and Jimmy were up to.

It was really the lesser of two evils.

[shireness-says]

The Song Remains the Same

Summary: The more things change, the more they stay the same - including Emma’s teenage crush on Killian Jones. Will she finally work up the nerve to act on it at their ten year high school reunion? ~5.6K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: Here it is: my contribution to @csseptembersunshine! It’s been a lot of fun to write. Funny story: the inspiration for this comes from me watching the music episode of CNN’s 2000s documentary, and getting really annoyed that they didn’t touch on that pop-punk phase we all went through around 2008. Somehow it turned into this. I don’t know. The song title is actually taken from a Led Zeppelin song, though I didn’t know that when I originally chose it. Still trying to figure out where else I’ve heard that phrase.

Super thanks to @snidgetsafan for her last minute beta-ing, and to @awkwardnessandbaseball for her encouragement as I slogged through it.

Tagging the usual suspects and a few extras: @snowbellewells, @kmomof4, @teamhook, @profdanglaisstuff, @thisonesatellite, @captainsjedi, @let-it-raines, @optomisticgirl, @welllpthisishappening, @scientificapricot, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

Gymnasium 2 of Storybrooke High - the larger of their sports facilities, as any alumnus knows - hasn’t changed a bit in ten years.

Emma remembers the way it looked at the one homecoming dance she’d attended - blue and gold streamers everywhere, with a balloon arch behind the DJ and another against a sloppily-curtained wall for formal photos. The gym today is much the same - all that’s been added are the buffet and a collection of tables where people can eat. The same people who couldn’t be trusted with food in the gym ten years ago maybe shouldn’t be trusted to have gained that maturity now, but Emma’s not one to argue against hors d'oeuvres. It’s odd, in a way, that she’d expect it to change. This is Storybrooke, after all; they thrive on that vague air of nostalgia, and most of the town hasn’t been updated since the 80s. Hell, the local diner will abandon their 50s soda shoppe aesthetic when hell itself freezes over, and maybe not even then. But in the ten years since Emma’s left town, she’s changed in such foundational ways that it’s jarring to discover that it’s not the case everywhere.

There can be a comfort to the sameness, too. Emma has a kid, now, and there’s an appeal to raising him in a place where the whole town is your neighbor and neighbors look out for each other. Plus, the closest thing she has to family lives here. As much as Emma had wanted to get out and see the world when she was 18, there’s a point where you just want to come home. Home for Emma has been Ruth and David and Mary Margaret, and home for them has been Storybrooke. Maybe it’s about time Emma makes it her home too - if not for her own sake, then for Henry’s.

The nostalgia oozing from every inch of the gymnasium isn’t the reassuring kind of sameness, unfortunately, probably because Emma never felt comfortable here in the first place. Years in the system left Emma struggling to fit in and really find her place at school, emotionally and socially, even after the Nolans had taken her in for good. It had been hard enough to open herself up to Ruby and Mary Margaret and her adoptive family; anything more than that was a stretch too far, and Emma never really bonded with her classmates. All those streamer-festooned walls don’t hold any sentimental value for her, even if this was the school she graduated from. All things considered, it seems pretty stupid to be showing up to this ten-year reunion at all.

Mary Margaret had decorated the walls, though, had sent out invitations and implored Emma to attend. Mary Margaret, who had been Emma’s first real friend, and is still her best friend in the world. And even after all these years - especially after all these years - Emma can’t say no to that earnest pleading. 

So she’d left her three year old with Ruth for the night, wiggled into one of the more tasteful of her honeytrap dresses, and set out to her ten-year high school reunion. The last place she wants to be.

There’s already a good crowd here, mingling around as Lady Gaga blares in the background like no time has passed at all - which doesn’t help Emma’s nerves in the least. The people, not the music. The faces are still recognizable, even if ten years have passed and left their mark. Ashley and Sean are over by the buffet, apparently still together; if Emma remembers what she’s heard from Mary Margaret, they’ve got a couple of kids now. Kris and his wife are over talking to Victor, who hopefully hasn’t just come from the hospital. Aurora’s still got that unpleasant look on her face, though her boyfriend or husband or whatever else seems friendly enough. Hell, even Will Scarlet has somehow managed to clean up well in a dress shirt and tie, holding hands with a beautiful brunette with a ring as he points out something on the photo slideshow. Who’d have thought their resident troublemaker capable of such a domestic display. 

With the exception of Ruby, who Emma knows will be running late out of long-ingrained habit, it seems like the gang’s all here. As Emma scans the room, there’s only one obvious character missing from the bunch; somewhere around here should be blue eyes and dark hair and a smile that —

“Fancy meeting you here, Swan.”

— looks exactly as she remembers. It starts out as a smirk when Emma first whips around to face the man who’d whispered in her ear, but it softens into something more genuine as she laughs - almost like that’s the exact sound he’d been waiting for. Just like always.

As it turns out, that’s another thing that hasn’t changed in ten years: her hopeless crush on Killian Jones.

He’d been handsome, even in high school, with all that dark hair and his confident swagger. He’d earned that confidence too, as captain of the speech team and a champion swimmer. Somehow, even if it had made him cocky, he had still been kind, and it was that kindness that had attracted Emma in the first place - the way he’d always been happy to smile and help her in math class, even though he didn’t have to. Emma wasn’t used to that; it was its own kind of intoxicating.

He’s just as handsome now, and if that smile she’s so loved is any indication, just as kind. He’d joined the Navy after graduation, Emma knows, and it had obviously done him good, filling him out in all the right ways. The trim fitted suit is new too; probably a good thing too, as the cut of those pants would have driven Emma to distraction back in high school. Otherwise, he’s almost just the same as always; if it wasn’t for the prosthetic peeking out of his sleeve where a left hand should be, the Killian in front of her now could be mistaken for a blast from the past. 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Emma grins back at him. 

“I might say the same thing,” he quips. “After all, I live here now. You’re the one who had to drive in.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I absolutely am not,” Killian confirms with a laugh. “Just finished up my first year of teaching at good old Storybrooke High. American History. Go Knights.”

“Damn. Well, congrats, I bet you’re great.” Weirdly enough, Emma really can picture him as a history teacher. It was always his best subject, and she’d be willing to bet he’s one of the cool teachers all the kids love.

“I do my best,” he shrugs modestly. It’s a new look on the cocky, smooth-talking Killian Jones she used to know, and not a bad one. It makes him seem… adult. Like he’s got his ducks in a row now in a way neither of them were capable of when they were young. She almost misses his next question considering it. “I seem to remember David mentioning that you live in Boston these days?”

That snaps her back. “Yeah, Boston. I work in bail bonds there. Though lately…”

“You’re thinking about moving back?” he finishes. At Emma’s puzzled look, he continues. “Like I said, your brother mentioned it. He’s a bit of a gossip, I’ve rediscovered.”

Ah, of course. “Yeah, that sounds like him.”

“Well, if you end up deciding to come home… let me know. I’d be happy to see your face around these streets again.” He even smiles like he means it. It’s a nice surprise again; Killian Jones is just full of those today. She’d thought that there would only be a handful of people who’d be happy to see her - David and Ruth, Mary Margaret, Ruby and Granny - but maybe there’s some others, too. For whatever reason, Killian seems to be counting himself among them.

“Thanks,” she finally replies, somewhat awkwardly. What are you supposed to say to such an unexpected, purely kind thing, after all?  It’s just the kind of thing the boy she remembered would have said - though she has to wonder if that’s a true memory, or something she inflated from her own childish crush and even more childish tendency to latch onto even the smallest kindness in the way only those starved for affection do. “I’ll make sure to do that. I’ll let you go mingle or whatever, but I’ll, uh… I’ll see you around?”

“Absolutely, Swan,” he winks. Or tries to, in the same way he’s apparently never learned how. “Save a dance for me?”

Dancing has never been her strong suit, but weirdly enough - or perhaps, not weirdly at all, considering who made the offer - Emma finds herself wanting that too, finds herself agreeing. “Sure,” she shrugs, making her best display of nonchalance even if her pulse has picked up at the very prospect. “I’ll catch you later.”

What harm could it do? After all, it’s just one dance.

———

It’s weird how time can change people, or at least change her perceptions of them, Emma notes. With some notable exceptions - Aurora Stephenson, now… whatever the hell her last name is, who will probably never grow out of her tendency to look down her nose at everyone and everything - most of the people she graduated with have turned into more adult versions of themselves, whether that means happier or more responsible or just more tired. It’s refreshing to see in a room otherwise so mired in the past, from the decor to the never-ending 2010-era playlist constantly piped overhead. Emma’s a little worried she’ll hear Fall Out Boy’s entire discography before the night is over - weird, considering she’d never have pegged Mary Margaret for a fan. 

But Scarlet turns out to be funny now that he’s dropped the class clown screwup act, and Ashley is actually sweet now that she’s allowed to be more than just a mouse under her stepmother’s thumb. Her older child is about Henry’s age, a little girl named Alexandra, and it’s a comfort that Emma never knew she was denying herself just to have someone else to talk to about all the trials and tribulations of toddlerhood with. She’s never been one of those mothers, but she’s never had anyone she could be one with, either. Mary Margaret and David have only recently announced that they’re expecting a baby, and Emma’s been somewhat isolated in Boston for a long time. But if she ends up returning to Storybrooke… it’d be nice, already knowing Henry has a playmate. Maybe they can set something up for before they return to Boston.

Still, as much as Emma’s enjoying herself - against her will, really - there reaches a point where she needs to get away from it all. By some miracle she’s never sure she’ll deserve, Henry calls to say goodnight just when she’s becoming too overwhelmed. There’s been a pair of picnic tables just outside of the gym for as long as Emma’s been here to see them - much longer, she’d bet, if she knows anything about Storybrooke - and it’s another thing that hasn’t changed in all this time, the tables appearing to have been replaced sometime in the past decade and then positioned in the exact same place as before. It’s the perfect place to take the call and collect her thoughts again - close enough to still hear the music faintly (Panic! at the Disco now, because none of them have actually grown out of their teenage taste in music apparently) without it overwhelming her senses.

Nothing’s the matter, of course - just some three year old affection. It doesn’t stop Emma from seizing the opportunity to take a moment for herself. It’s been a long time since she’s spent this much time with this many adults in a situation where she’s expected to actually interact; after almost four years of cartoons and make-believe and bedtime stories, it’s a little taxing. In a good way, she thinks, or at least not a bad one.

“Ah, there you are,” a familiar voice calls. Killian again. He’s everywhere tonight - the man himself before her eyes as he settles onto the bench beside her, back braced against the wooden tabletop, and memories of their time in school embedded in every wall.

“Did Mary Margaret send you?” Emma asks. It would be perfectly in character - Emma’s sister-in-law trying to make sure that she’s socializing properly.

Killian shakes his head though. “No, I just needed a bit of air. Victor’s trying to break out some of his old dance moves, which is just as scarring as ever, so I figured that was my cue to step out for a moment. Noticed you were missing too, figured that maybe you had the same idea.”

“Not exactly,” Emma laughs. “I mean, I can’t blame you for avoiding that nightmare. But no, I, uh… I had to take a call.” 

“Ah. Yeah, no, you definitely couldn’t manage that inside.”

Oddly enough, Emma feels the urge to open up to Killian, to tell him about Henry. It’s not something she does, typically; after so long searching for a family of her own, she still finds it hard sometimes to share Henry with others, even if it’s just bragging. She’d never keep him from making friends, of course - she’s not that kind of overprotective mother, and besides, his time at daycare has shown that the kid is unstoppably friendly - but in her own life, she keeps him to herself. Minimal talk with her coworkers. No mention at all to strangers, not even the vaguest reference.

But then again, Killian isn’t really a stranger, is he? Even after all this time, Emma’s instincts still say she can trust him. He’s never been anything but kind and generous. 

“I’ve, uh… I ‘ve got a son,” she offers, with a weak smile. “Henry. He’ll be four in August. Pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me, you know? He’s just… the best. So, yeah, I came out here because he called to say goodnight.”

“He seems like a lovely boy,” Killian replies, something fond tinging his tone. The familiarity of it alarms Emma, and makes her eyes widen. To his credit, Killian seems to notice it right away, his brows furrowing into a frown. “Oh, now that sounded a bit creepy, didn’t it?” he asks. “It’s much less concerning than anything you’re thinking, Swan, I promise. Mrs. Nolan has an endearing habit of showing off any and all new photos of the lad she gets her hands on when she comes into Granny’s in the morning. A proud grandmother, that one, not that I can blame her if your boy is even half as bright and curious and sweet as she claims.”

That… makes sense.  Even if it means Emma maybe needs to invest in muzzles for her entire family at the rate they’re blabbing her business around town. “Sorry if I looked like I was about to clock you,” she admits sheepishly. “It’s just… he’s everything. I worry.”

“I think that’s your prerogative as his mother,” Killian laughs good-naturedly. At least he’s not holding that little freak out against her.

Things fall into silence. Somehow, the quiet is more intimate than any conversation, almost cloyingly so. It keeps both of them from looking at each other, both turning towards the stars instead as P!nk blares distantly in the background. God, the last time Emma actually took a moment to look at the stars was probably in high school.

Killian, of course, is the one to break the quiet. He always was bolder than her. “Is the little lad with his father tonight, then?” He asks, almost too casually. Like he might care more about the answer than he wants to admit. Emma can’t imagine why.

“No,” she replies on a snort. “He wasn’t exactly interested in sticking around, for better or worse.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Killian murmurs. “It’s his loss.”

“It really is. Henry’s a great kid. It was hard at the time, though. I felt like I had found someone who really loved me and wanted me, but that obviously wasn’t the case. Should have known it was too good to be true.”

“You can’t possibly think this is your fault,” Killian prods, concern cooling his voice. 

Emma shrugs. “I mean, I know that it was up to him. I didn’t force him out the door or anything. But at the same time… I know I’m difficult to love.” She tries to keep her voice nonchalant, but isn’t entirely convinced that it worked. That’s the problem with admitting one of your deepest fears.

“That’s not true,” Killian chides back gently

“Yeah, well, it sure seems like it a lot of the time. I don’t have much evidence to the contrary.”

The silence this time is almost anticipatory, somehow. Emma finds herself practically holding her breath as she waits for what’s next.

“You know, I had the biggest crush on you back in school,” Killian finally says, almost absentmindedly, still gazing up at the sky instead of at Emma.

“You did not.” It’s not one of her better responses, but it’s her gut response all the same. There’s no way - absolutely no way that Killian Jones, the Killian Jones of Storybrooke High, had a thing for her back when they were both still teenagers. 

“Aye, I did,” he chuckles. She’d almost call it fond, if she didn’t know better. Fond is too big a stretch for someone you haven’t seen in ten years.

“I can’t imagine why.”

Killian stares at her blankly for a moment, like the words don’t process. “Oh, don’t say that.”

“Look, I was a mess in high school —”

“You were lovely, even then,” he interrupts. “Maybe that sounds a little cliche, but you were. To me, if no one else. There was so much drama and bullshit going on in high school, but somehow, in the middle of all that, you seemed like you couldn’t give less of a fuck about the whole thing. You were strong, and fierce, and… I guess I had a thing for that kind of attitude back then. Still do, really.”

Honestly, Emma doesn’t even know how to take that - any of that. Especially not that last bit. She’s just not equipped to process it. But at the same time… she owes it to herself to try. Both of them, really, and her past self to boot. He wasn’t the only one with a crush, after all. As much as it terrifies Emma to think that just maybe, after all this time, he might still think she’s lovely and fierce, it’s exhilarating at the same time. With that in mind, Emma takes a deep breath and forces herself to respond.

“Maybe you should have done something about that,” she replies with butterflies swarming in her stomach like she’s still a nervous high schooler. 

For what it’s worth, Killian looks a little stunned. “I’m sorry?”

“I kind of had a thing for you too,” Emma confides. “You were kind of a dreamboat, you know.”

“Were?”

“Oh, don’t get cocky on me,” she laughs. “But yeah. If you had asked… I probably would have said yes. Almost definitely, actually.” It’s hard to say that she’d change things, if given the chance; after all, the path that took her here gave her Henry. But she still can’t help but wonder what might have been. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t, then.” His voice is almost wistful, longing for something he’ll never grasp. “Out of curiosity, why didn’t you?”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Not brave enough.” Emma waves a hand casually, like it wasn’t a big deal, despite remembering all the emotional turmoil of that same subject back in high school. “Plus, it seemed like you had a thing going with Tink half the time - which, trust me, I know sounds ridiculous now that she’s shown up to this with a girlfriend. Still.”

“Aye, that’d do it,” Killian laughs. “We’ve always been just close friends, though. For what it’s worth.”

“I know.”

The anticipatory silence is back, and this time, Emma knows what it’s waiting for. In any cheesy movie, this would be the moment they kissed, two former somethings reunited under the stars. She’s not ready for that, though - not with the pain of her last relationship’s abrupt dissolution still hanging over her head, just reinforcing all her concerns about abandonment. She’s already used up her bold quota for the day.

Quickly, she breezes past it to a new subject. “So what are you doing back here, anyways? I thought you were off to the Navy, gonna see the world.”

She regrets it as soon as she asks as Killian’s whole body suddenly seizes with tension. 

“I was,” he says carefully. “I did. I was going to. But for better or worse, the Navy doesn’t have much use for a man with one hand.”

“I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to ask, wasn’t it?”

Killian sighs. “No, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean any harm by it, it’s still just a subject I’m a bit touchy about.”

“I’m sure,” Emma murmurs. It’s hard to toe the line between wanting to seem sympathetic and coming off as prying.

“Before you ask, it was a car accident. Not at all related to my service,” Killian explains, seemingly seeing the hesitance in her eyes. “Someone ran a red light, and that was that. So I took advantage of servicemember scholarships to go to school instead, and six years later, here I am. It’s hard to claim that it’s all worked out for the best, considering I’m missing a pretty crucial limb, but I’m happy with where I’m at.”

“I was just thinking earlier, I bet you’re a great teacher,” Emma contributes. “One of the fun ones, but who still knows what they’re talking about and holds the kids accountable.”

It turns out, Killian still scratches at his ear when he’s embarrassed, just the way he did in high school. The red flush is the same too. “I do try. And what about you? Bail bonds, you said?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s not a dream job by any stretch, but they were hiring when my ex and I first moved to Boston, close enough for me to walk to work, and I’ve kind of just stayed. It’s something I’m good at, as it turns out - a little bit of research and a little undercover work and a lot of being willing to chase down people doing their best to get away from you. It’s a living. The money can be good, if sporadic,” she shrugs. “One of the biggest appeals of the deputy position here, though, besides coming home, is the steady paycheck. I don’t know. Moving is hard, but it’s very tempting.”

“Well, I’m sure you’d be a brilliant deputy,” Killian smiles. As Emma stares back, the anticipatory silence falls again, but this time, she’s almost ready for it. With a few more seconds, maybe she could make a move, and it wouldn’t truly hurt to shift an inch closer…

“Emma, there you are!” Mary Margaret’s voice calls, shattering the intimacy of the moment. “David’s about to do his speech, and you wouldn’t want to —” she cuts off abruptly when she sees Emma’s not alone. “Oh, hello, Killian! I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“No, not at all,” Killian smiles. Meanwhile, Emma wants to scream Yes! back at her friend. Timing has never been her strong suit. “Go ahead and get David all set up, we’ll be right behind you.”

As Mary Margaret scurries off again, Killian hoists himself to his feet before offering Emma a hand of assistance - one she’s only too happy to accept. God, his hand is just the perfect balance between soft and callused, the hands of a man who might not work with his hands (so to speak) every day, but might have a hobby where he gets to. She’ll have to ask. “Well, Swan? Shall we go see what our erstwhile class president has to say?”

“Lead on.” It’s probably best that they were interrupted, anyways. This is just one night, after all. 

———

Poor David - he’s never been much for public speaking. Emma will never understand why they needed a speech at this thing in the first place, let alone why Mary Margaret couldn’t have just made the remarks instead as the organizer of this whole thing. 

Still, somehow they make it through, even if David’s practically swimming in sweat by the time he exits the stage. That suit jacket is definitely going to need a trip to the cleaner. Emma manages to park herself close to the dessert table while the whole spectacle unfolds, sampling all the little bars and cookies and cupcakes while everyone else is distracted. She’ll have to thank David for that later.

She’s just reaching for a cookies and cream cupcake - she can’t quite remember who opened a bakery, but God bless them for it - when Killian appears by her side again.

“Might I steal you for a dance, Swan?” he asks. “I have it on good authority that they’re about to play a slow song.”

Emma laughs. “You bribed Mary Margaret, didn’t you?”

“Oh, shamelessly. So what do you say, Swan?” He offers his hand.

Maybe she should think about it more. Maybe it’s committing to something she’ll regret later. But for now, Emma takes his hand without hesitation. “Yeah. Let’s dance.”

There’s a little section of floor left open as if just for them, allowing Killian to lead her around to face him. Emma can’t help but chuckle as they come together, twining arms around necks and waists like any respectable high schooler faced with a slow song. And what a song it is: three beat time, Paramore. The soundtrack of her most fanciful imaginings way back when. Perfect.

“What are you giggling about?” he teases. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost say there’s affection in his voice.

“Nothing. It’s kind of stupid.” Still, Killian watches until she continues, until she caves. “It’s just… I used to dream about this, you know? My own personal fantasy - and not like that, don’t even start with the eyebrows,” she warns. “But… even if I tried not to show it and even if I believed that love wasn’t in the cards for me, there was still a little bit of me that wanted. I’d imagine a moment, just like this. It’d be like a movie. We’d be dancing at prom or winter formal or something, and the whole world would melt away. I’m pretty sure I choreographed the camera movements in my head. And then, at the end… there’d be a moment. We’d kiss. And it would be my first kiss, and it’d be perfect.” Emma laughs just hearing herself. It’s almost disgustingly romantic, really. “Pretty silly, honestly.”

“I don’t know, Swan. I think it sounds nice.” He takes a moment to carefully twirl her underneath his arm, followed by a few moments of silence once they’ve floated back together again. “We still could, you know. Make that fantasy happen.”

Emma snorts a laugh, even as a huge part of her heart yearns, practically pulling towards his. “I’ve got a kid, Jones. Trust me, the first kiss boat has long since sailed.”

Killian smiles down at her with those calm, kind eyes she fell in love with a decade ago. There’s no denying that she’s still held in their thrall all these years later. “Maybe so. But we could still have our first kiss.”

The words hang in the air between them, full of hope. Still, Emma knows he won’t make a move unless she’s right there with him. “I’m not that girl anymore,” she tells him - warns him, against everything her heart is screaming. “I’ve changed a lot since high school.”

“I know.”

“And even with that… you’re sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure. We’ve both changed, but all I know is that you’ve become even more lovely and enchanting in that time, and I’d be honored to kiss you to the greatest hits of 2009 and 2010.”

“I think Mary Margaret included some stuff from before then too,” Emma replies, stalling for time.

“Ah, well, that’s almost a dealbreaker, but I suppose I’d be willing to kiss you to the greatest hits pre-2009 as well,” Killian teases. “If you want me to, that is.”

And that’s the question, isn’t it? It’s a thin, fragile line between wanting something so badly and being afraid to just reach out and take it, especially when you’re given the chance to do just that. 

“I’m afraid,” she finally admits. “I can’t tell you that I’m moving home. I don’t even know that. And what if I don’t? Is this just a fling from the old days? Some belated wish fulfillment? A one time thing?”

“I hope not,”  Killian replies calmly. “ I hope this is more than just two people giving into an old crush and never seeing each other again. I know that I wanted you then, and I wanted you for a long time after we went our separate ways, and I wanted you again when I spotted you from across the room tonight. Do I hope that you’ll decide to move back to Storybrooke? Yes. But only if it makes you happy. And if you decide that you’ll be happier in Boston, that you and your boy belong there… well, I suppose I’ll have to start looking for date night spots in the city, because I want more than just this one kiss, and I’m willing to fight for it. But that all depends on whether you want that too.” As her silence persists, Emma searching for her courage and her words, Killian’s face drops into a twist of uncertainty. It’s not a look Emma’s used to seeing on his face, and she doesn’t particularly like it. At all. “Would you like that?” he asks softly, the uncertainty even coloring his tone.

“Yes.” Emma only whispers it, but stares into his eyes intently all the while. Hopefully that can convince him of her sincerity, even if her words can’t. When she tries to speak up, it only comes out in a jumble anyways. “I… yeah. Yeah, I would.”

His answering smile seems to spread from the very center of him, blooming across his face slowly like the most delicate flower. Maybe a water lily; that seems fitting, somehow. “In that case…” His hand travels from where it had rested on her waist to cup her cheek instead. “May I?”

Emma barely takes the time to nod before she’s pressing up that last half inch in her heels to capture his lips within her own. 

The thing about imagining what a kiss might be like for so long is that you’ve run it so many times in your head at a certain point that the real thing is never going to live up to everything you imagined. What’s even better is that this kiss, this particular realization of all that longing? It doesn’t need to live up to anything, instead a perfect expression all its own. That little romantic voice still hiding deep inside Emma wants to call it a fairytale dream come true; the rest of her is more than happy to just savor the moment as it shifts from teasing, exploratory brushes of her lips against his to something deeper and more determined. Her arms wind fully around his neck and his more tightly around her waist, leaving them twined together as tongues begin to seek and probe and stroke. For a moment, it’s like they’re the only two people in the world - like some kind of teenaged dream, if she can ever be forgiven for such an awful, topical joke.

When they finally separate, it’s only by scant inches, bodies still pressed together and foreheads touching with only space left for their mouths to gasp for air.

“That was…” she starts, unsure frankly how to finish. There’s still not nearly enough oxygen reaching her brain to properly think, her body and all its functions far more interested in diving back in for more than any stupid thinking. Or talking. Or… anything, really.

Thankfully, Killian is there to pick up where her words fail. “Bloody earth-shattering.” Even if Emma can’t see his goofy grin with her eyes still closed, she can still hear it in his voice. 

“Yeah. Yeah, it definitely was.” Somewhere in the middle of their dance floor makeout, the song has changed to something more upbeat - a dance tune that Emma doesn’t recognize, but knows Mary Margaret would insist was absolutely definitely played at every school dance when they were in high school. She doesn’t really want this to end - doesn’t want it at all, in fact - but it’s probably about time they stopped standing in the middle of the floor. With great reluctance, she unwinds her arms from his neck and steps back, but makes sure to meet Killian’s gaze with a smirk. “So. You mentioned a date? Where are you taking me?”

Killian laughs before moving to dig in an inner jacket pocket, ultimately producing a flask. “Well, for the moment, what do you say to a drink? I think I see some glasses of punch over there just waiting to be spiked.”

“It’s a date.”

And if she has anything to say about it, the first of many.

[lovelivingmydreams]

say hi baby

“Why are you filming?” Prince charming chuckles as he watches the camera move around him and his family. “So I can prove to my little brother that he once was a little spit monster.And embarrass him in front of his date.” Mom’s voice laughs.

“Dave mate, will you do me a favor and grab that bag behind the umbrella stand? It has a present for the little prince,” Dad calls from the kitchen.

David hands over his son to his wife and goes to grab the bag. He brings it over and holds it open for Neal to reach inside. The toddler already knows what is expected and reaches in. Showing off a pair of pure white socks with little silver crowns stitched into them. The uper edge is wavy and blue.

“Oh... Honey, it’s really sweet...” Snow assures her daughter behind the camera nervously. “But I’m afraid Neal is a bit to big...”

“That’s not Neal’s present mom.”

“Then...?” The confusion on the heroine’s face still makes you laugh.

“Well, soon there’ll be someone using these socks. A little playmate for Neal to watch over.” Mom explains. Pops is the first to realize what this is about. He grabs hold of Dad as he enters the frame.

“Congrats! I’m so happy for you! both of you!” he exclaims.

Grams catches on and squeals in delight nearly knocking the camera to the floor in her rush to embrace her daughter.

After the initial excitement has died down the camera turns to Mom’s face. “Now as you know, Henry was on his own adventure when we found out, so we can’t show you his reaction... He doesn’t even know yet. And we don’t know where to find him or if it’s a good time. So you’ll just have to take my word for it that he’s very excited to meet you too.” You chuckle at the understatement. Henry is the proudest big brother in the world.

“Anyone want to say something to baby?” she asks.

“Hi baby! Grandma here,” Grams beams. “I can’t wait to get to know you. Between your mother and your father i know that you’ll be such a wonderful person. I already love you baby.”

“We all do. Now no matter what happens always remember, we will always find you. So you never have to feel alone or afraid,” Pops chimes in. Gods you really needed to hear those words right now.

“I suppose I should tell you that nothing bad is going to happen, but i can’t promise that. What i can promise is that no matter what, we’ll get trough this. Every curse can be broken and every villain will be defeated. So chin up and soldier on alright?” Mom tells you and you nod as you wipe at your eyes.

“Don’t give up on us either alright? Fight for what you want. I already know you’ll have your mother’s fire, use it,” Dad adds.

“Until next time baby!” they all chorus.

The scene changes.It’s dark the camera hidden inside a bag.

“What do you think asking such a ridiculous amount of leave? And Jones as well? What are you planning a second honeymoon?” Nina scoffs.

“I agree it’s a bit much, but Kilian is already fussing and he insists i take it easy once the third trimester starts. He is already insistent that i stick to desk work and I’m barely a month in...”

“Wait... Mrs. Jones is this your way of telling me you and captain guyliner have a bun in the oven?”

A moment of silence passes and then an exasperated sigh. “Just what I need a little pirate prince or princess to cause havoc in town.” 

“You can say congratulations you know?” Mom chuckles.

“Congratulations Emma, truly. I’m happy for you.”

“Sorry to interrupt but i couldn’t help but overhear. Is there really going to be another true love baby?” Auntie Zeze’s voice joins the conversation.

“Why? Planning on making a trip to the past?” Mom jests.

“Oh, very funny savior.” Zeze berates her warmly. “I merely wanted to wish you congratulations,” she assures her.

“Thanks Zelena. You want to come in? I’m making a video for when the baby turns sixteen so he or she can see how excited everyone is.”

“That’s a marvelous idea,”

The camera is taken out of it’s hiding place and shows off the two sisters sitting side by side leaning against the desk of the mayor’s office.

“Hello there little munchkin. Your favorite auntie here,” this earns Zeze a jab from her sister. “Well you are technically their stepgreatgrandmother,” she argues before turning back to the camera. “I hope you have a wicked birthday. Remember, being good is fine and boring, but don’t be afraid to toe the line a little every once in a while,”

“You are not getting anywhere near my child,” Mom deadpans.

“You don’t mean that,” Zeze grins.

“Well, that being said... Happy birthdayay mr or miss Jones. My advice to you is to look at everyone around you now, these people who love you and would fight for you no matter what. Be grateful for them and don’t take a single second for granted.” And that piece of advice floors you. You have to stop again. Just when Zeze and Nina wave you goodbye you hit the pause button again.

[banesbottombitch]

hello beautiful bean!! i need some bowers gang as a biker gang hc’s please :>

Lemme start off by saying right here and now, that this was 100% brought on because I’ve been watching too much Sons Of Anarchy while writing. Also, @hockslutter thank you thank thank you for indulging me, because omg I’ve wanted to write this AU for DAYS.

Disclaimer: These Assholes are all 21+ for this AU, and Patrick is always two years older for my own nonsense purposes.

Notes: 

The boys are the second generation of a motorcycle gang in Derry, Maine. They are part of a small chapter of a larger group called “The Hellraisers”, and dub themselves in private and in name in their town as “The Bowers Gang” as Henry Bowers is the current President of their chapter.

Butch Bowers was a dirty cop for plenty of years for the original Hellraisers chapter, and hid their business dealings and bailed them out numerous times

Belch’s dad was an original member and founder of the Derry chapter, so he was ‘born into’ the family and had an easier time getting into the chapter than the others.

Belch’s dad owned and operated a mechanic shop for Derry, that Belch took over when he passed. The chapter or “club” as they liked to be called in town, works out of there and the near by bar owned by Vic’s parents.

Henry Bowers

The current President of the chapter, taking over once Belch’s dad passed.

Has the unwavering respect of anyone in his ‘family’, despite being a hardheaded and crueler man

Was enamored with the OG generation when he was younger, and was often dragged to events (kid friendly stuff like birthday parties, barbeques and 4th of july parties) by his dad, and has been fascinated with bikes since he was tiny

Tried to become a prospect time and again when he had barely started freshman year in high school, eventually dropping out completely to be a full time prospect (which is honestly an errand boy/guard/look out tbh) and loved every second of it

Got his first bike from Belch’s dad, who is saw as a surrogate father, and despite it being a piece of junk, he loved it to bits

Worked long and hard to fix his first bike, and rode it with pride, even if the old men would poke and prod him, joking about it. He’d defend it until his ears were red and he was stuttering excuses, but wave it off

Fought against Butch tooth and nail to get free of him, and left home at sixteen, moving in with Belch and his parents, emancipating himself and earning a target on his back by his dad

Butch tries his damnedest to hook Henry with every warrant/charges he can, but they never stick

Prefers knives over guns, for torture and to do the deed. Has a special made switchblade with a particularly curved end that looks positively menacing

No mullet, sorry, its buzzed on the sides and styled on top, liken to his style in Henry Gets A Haircut

Hates dealing with discussions about drugs/gun dealing, and grows bored too easily, always itching to get a better deal and usually doesn't think of the other party involved.

Still too young to e in the position he’s in, but he’s there to stay

Reggie “Belch” Huggins

Still a Mama’s boy, and tells her about EVERYTHING that happens in the gang, which they all call the “crew” or “club” as an easy cover, for where they work out of Belch’s dad’s mechanic shop.

He is the muscle, the glue, of the Bowers Gang. He is the voice of reason when Henry or Patrick get too worked up.

Takes his job as a mechanic as seriously as he does being the Vice President of the chapter.

Hates having to come to violence, but he is ready to blow jaws off for his crew, no questions ask. Henry points, and he will shoot, no matter the circumstances.

Helps Vic and  Patrick train the Prospects, and is the nicest of the group. Oddly a father-like figure for the younger guys who pull through, but he’s quick to warn them that the club isnt for anyone.

Has scars all over his hands and up his arms, from his work as a mechanic and brawls he’s gotten into. Has a nick in his ear that he doesnt like to talk about.

Never really thought he’d join the Hellraisers, since he saw how bad the dynamic screwed with his parents as a couple, and how it affected him as a kid, but ended up doing so when he got into his late teens.

Usually the one who talks to law enforcement, as they know he’s the mos likely to listen to reason.

Did two years in state for arson, getting out on a four month probation, and earning himself some friends on the inside. Keeps them up to date with the happenings of the world outside the bars, and tries to give them some money for commissary. 

Came back to find Patrick Hockstetter in the gang, and still has some issues with him. They get along, but just barely. Tolerance, really.

Victor “Vic” Criss

The youngest of the group, but the smartest is you disqualify Patrick.

Was always on the outskirts of the Hellraisers as a kid, since his parents run the bar that the original generation visits still, and grew up with a mindset similar to Henry’s, idolizing them

Rode with Henry the first time he got his junky ass bike and knew he would do anything to get that rush for the rest of his life, and join the men he considered heroes

Became a prospect in his senior year of high school, already friends with both Henry and Belch, who he grew up seeing coming and going through the family bar.

Always the first to jump in if Henry is getting to hot headed with a potential ally, and charts them away to discuss trade

The money keeper, the information rat, he’s got all the business for the club in his head and rattles off numbers on the daily. He knows when and where they’re all meeting for a hand off, and where the items need to be at at what time.

Established his parents bar as the new meeting zone for the club when he was first brought into the gang, closing off the back rooms for his brothers and brothers only, giving everyone their individual rooms and use of the backroom, which became the conference room

Got is first bike at nineteen, and crashed it three hours later with minimal cuts and bruises. Henry laughed his ass off, dusted the poor idiot off, and told him he’d help Vic get his bike back up and running in no time.

Almost went to state for murder, but the charges dropped when a witness confessed (lied) new information that totally derailed the trial, counts his lucky stars every day

Picks up girls with his bike allllllllll the time, oh my god it’s horrible, he might as well have a patch on his leather that says “Man Whore”

Patrick Hockstetter

Ghosted into Derry without a past, and without an identity. Just a bike, and bruised knuckles.

Kicked ass at a bar, Henry saw, and bought him a drink in congrats. The two chatted up, and Patrick glued himself to the Hellraisers from that point on

Seemingly the most eager to fuck someone up, but only waits for his chance to arise once someone else has cause the problem. It’s as if he’s waiting for an okay from Henry, and the moment he gets it, he wont stop until the victim and bloody and hard of breath

Slipped into the club within the first year of his arrival, but only because the elders of the Hellraisers liked his willingness to get dirty

Leads most if not all of the drug and arms trafficking, willing to drive over state lines to deliver. Refuses to leave the coast, however. Wont say why.

Hates. Hates. Hates. Law enforcement. Has spat in officers faces, and has no fear of the DEA or FBI when they try and comb through Derry.

The most in likeness to Henry, and they drink together often enough, though Patrick can easily be found tangled in a bar girl’s arms after a ride out with the club instead

Spent 100% of his youth (12-18) in Juvenal Detention. Admitted this while drunk once, but wont elaborate on it.

Lives in the room Vic provides him, while the others have homes to go to. He’ll wake up early and stumble into the bar area with a five o’clock shadow and down a fifth of whiskey, then go back to his room, silent and empty eyed.

Goes for rides alone if he’s pissed, and sometimes disappears for days before he turns back up, as if nothing happened

The most tatted of the guys, and has a huge back piece of the gangs symbol on his back. It’s the devil, horns and all, carrying a scythe and sickle, inked in black.

Usually wears his hair slicked back, and you can see all the piercings he has.

[heavenlyuris]

Falling

Pairings: Stenbrough, minor Reddie, minor Benverly, very minor past BIllverly

Warnings: Minor OCD flare ups.

a/n: okay this is literally the first piece I’ve written since I was like…a freshman in high school, so pls pls pls let me know what you guys think!

For years, Stan Uris would have, without question, told you that Richie Tozier was the bane of his existence. But, in his junior year of high school, he may have told you differently. He may have to say someone annoys him even more than King Trashmouth himself.

Greta Keene.

Now, hating Greta Keene was no recent development for the losers. They haven’t liked her….ever. Stan had the misfortune to share a fourth and fifth grade class with her, and he can recall her being as annoying back then. But, they generally stayed out of each others way. She wasn’t very interested in trashing the Jewish kid when Beverly Marsh was sitting right next to him, just waiting to be picked on.

But now, it seems, Stan just can’t get away from the pharmacists daughter. Not that they intentionally crossed paths, but the Losers often followed Bill Denbrough, their fearless leader, around like lost dogs. And apparently so does Greta Keene.

When Greta caught wind that Beverly liked Bill during Freshman year, then of course Greta had to like him too. She spent a good chunk of Freshman year asking Bill if “Sloppy Seconds” Marsh was good, and when that didn’t work, she took to throwing herself at him anytime Beverly or the other Losers were around.

They all expected that to die down when Ben Hanscom finally found the balls to ask Bev out halfway through Sophomore year.

Imagine their surprise when Greta walked right through their linked hands the next day, exclaiming, “I always knew one wasn’t good enough for you, Beaverly,” throwing a wink Bill’s way and a soft, “See you in Pre-Calc, Billy,” before walking down the hallway.

A year later and she was still throwing winks, glances, and kiss faces at the tall Denbrough boy any chance she got, and since she seemed to have a built in ‘Bill-dar’, she had a lot of chances.

Bill, of course, was much too nice to flat out tell her to leave him alone. He had changed a lot since they were 13, gotten a little, okay a lot, taller, joined the football and baseball teams along with Mike Hanlon, had mostly gotten over his stutter, and had grown into his awkwardly long limbs.

It wasn’t only Greta Keene who had taken a liking to Bill, many other girls at Derry High School fawned over him, but none of them had the gall to do anything about it, because they feared the Wrath of Greta Keene.

Stan didn’t fear the Wrath of Greta Keene, he feared rejection.

This fear kept him from acting on his feelings for Bill. Stanley Uris has loved Bill Denbrough for years. Since they were kids, since Bill stood up to Henry Bowers for him. Since Bill had helped Stan nurse a hurt baby warbler back to health. Since Bill had taken his hand that day at the quarry when they were 12, and promised Stan he would never let him get hurt, and they jumped together. Stan swears he’s still falling to this day.

Falling for Bill Denbrough.

So, of course when he walked towards his shared calculus class with Richie on a Monday morning in May of 1993, and heard Greta Keene excitedly say, “I think Bill’s gonna ask me to prom!” He grabbed Richie’s arm and took a sharp left.

“Uh, Stan? Calc is the other way,” Richie said.

“Yes, but maybe we need a change of pace. Let’s take the long way,” Stan said back, shuffling along quickly.

Richie knows Stan. Stan was Richie’s first friend, his best friend. He knows that Stan doesn’t like change, he knows Stan doesn’t like being any less than 3 minutes early for class, and he knows that Stan doesn’t like girls.

He does know, however, that Stan likes Bill.

But, he doesn’t say anything, for once, and follows his friend instead.

That Thursday, during lunch, when Mike sat down with Stan, Richie, Eddie, and Bev, he asked, “You guys are coming to mine and Bill’s game tomorrow, right? It’s our last home game of the season!”

“Oh shoot! I almost forgot about that! Guess I’ll have to reschedule that date I had with Eddie’s mom, huh,” Richie said, throwing a wink in the smaller boys direction.

“Beep, Beep, Trashmouth! My mom hates your guts,” Eddie grumbled, turning away from his boyfriend, “Me and Richie will be there, Mike”

“Yeah, Mikey! You know me and Eds wouldn’t miss it,” Richie said, ignoring the heated ‘don’t call me that!’ he earned from his boyfriend.

Mike nodded, “Awesome. Bev? Stan?”

Beverly smiled that beautiful smile of hers, “Of course I’ll be there,” she replied, looking over at Stan expectantly.

Stan shrugged. “I still have to convince my dad to let me start Sabbath late, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” he stated. Him and his father had come to an understanding on his faith. His father understood that pressuring Stan to keep such a strict belief was hurting him, and had loosened the reigns significantly. He still wanted Stan to observe Sabbath, and his mother still only cooked Kosher meals. Stan had begun loving the quiet Friday evenings, and Saturday mornings with is family.

But not as much as he loved Bill.

So of course, the following night, he found himself sitting with his friends in the bleachers of the baseball diamond, awaiting Derry High’s team’s arrival.

The night wasn’t too chilly, he had brought an extra jacket just in case, and he even found himself laughing at Richie’s terrible jokes under the bright lights of the field, still making sure his giggles were accompanied by his signature eye roll.

Overall, he was having a really great time.

Well he was, until he saw Greta Keene. She was decked out in Derry High’s school colors, had Bill’s #7 painted on her cheek, and she was wearing…

Was that Bill’s varsity jacket?

Upon her turning around, Stan had found out that it was indeed, Bill’s varsity jacket.

Stan’s stomach dropped, he could have heard it, had Richie not audibly gagged at the sight of Greta flashing the back to her friends, which proudly had ‘Denbrough’ stitched across it.

Beverly opened her mouth to speak, probably to make a comment about said jacket, but before any nice came out, she was interrupted by cheers exploding as Derry’s team ran out onto the field to stand for the National Anthem, and Stan’s heart leaped up into his throat as he saw Bill smile right at him.

The moment was cut short when Greta’s screech of, “WOO BILLY! GO BILLY!” sharply rang through his eardrums.

Stan had a hard time focusing on anything except for Greta screaming Bill’s name anytime he was up to bat, or caught a fly ball, or did anything, really.

“Stan, your eyes are going to literally pop out of your head if you roll them any harder,” Richie leaned in to whisper to the Jewish boy, though there was a concerned undertone to the teasing.

Stan promptly turned his glare to Richie, non-verbally telling to shut up, while simultaneously saying ‘I’ll explain later’ without saying any words.

Soon, it was the bottom of the ninth, and both teams were tied up, and it was Bill Denbrough’s turn up at bat. One home run, and the game would be theirs, and Derry High would be heading to playoffs. Of course, because Bill Denbrough is perfect, he hit that home run, he proudly ran the bases, right into home base, and right into the waiting arms of his teammates, who hefted him up onto their shoulders as the whole of Derry High School cheered for the beautiful green-eyed boy.

Of course, the team wanted to celebrate, but the only people Bill wanted to spend the night with were his merry band of Losers.

“S-so, guys. Are we meeting back at my place,” Bill asked hopefully after he and Mike finally pried their way away from the team, and had converged with the rest of the Losers in the parking lot.

Richie opened his mouth, probably to spew some idiot remark that he wouldn’t miss spending a night with Mrs. Denbrough, when the signature Keene screech was heard.

“Billy,” she spoke, throwing her arms around his neck as he turned around. “You did such a good job tonight! I’m so proud of you!”

“Uh, th-thanks, Greta,” he stammered as she finally released him.

“So, are you coming to the diner tonight,” she asked, coy smile playing on her lips.

“No, me and my friends are just gonna hang out for the night,” he responded.

Greta finally seemed to recognize the figures standing behind Bill, and a sneer marked her mug, “Oh, will then,” she shrugged off his jacket, holding it out to him, “Here’s your jacket back, thanks for letting me borrow it, Billy. Congrats again,” she whispered the last part, standing up on her tip-toes to plant a kiss on Bill’s cheek, before walking back to her friends.

Stan could have puked right then and there. “I don’t think I can make it, my dad wants me home.“

“Oh, well, I can drive you home,” Bill offered, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“No, Big BIll, I got this one, I need to swing by Stan’s house and say a special hello to Mrs. Uris, anyway,” Richie sent a wink flying Stan’s way. This time it wasn’t jealousy bringing bile up Stan’s throat.

As Stan bid their small group adieu, Bill grabbed him into a hug. “Thanks for coming tonight. See you on Monday,” The taller, green-eyed boy spoke, flashing Stan a blinding smile.

Once they were in Richie’s car, driving down the street, he broke.

“I love him so much, Rich.”

“I know. He-“

“He’s literally just perfect.”

“Yeah, you know-“

“And who does Greta think she is to try and steal him away from us!?”

“A bitch, but Stan-“

“God I wanted to throw up when I saw her wearing his jacket! And when she kissed him? Barf,” Stan said, opening the glove box and trying hard to reorganize Richie’s junk to help the oncoming panic attack.

“Yeah she’s gross, but as I was saying, he really likes-“

“Oh no, don’t tell me he likes her, I’ll actually barf then,”

“No! He likes-“

“God, if he asks her to prom I’m going to….I don’t know what I’m going to do!”

“Stan-“

“If they start dating I’ll-“

“Stan!”

“And if I have to see them kiss in the hallways I’m-“

“STAN!” Richie finally shouted, stomping on the brake. All of the papers Stan had in his hands flopped to the ground.

“What, Richie,” Stan huffed, too deep in his own sorrow to have the energy to try and pick them up again.

“This is our stop.”

Confused, Stan looked out of the window, only to be met with the outside of the Denbrough house. Turning back to Richie, he shook his head adamantly, “No, Richie, I’m not going in there.”

“C’mon Stanley, all that’s gonna happen is we’re gonna order pizza, watch some movies, have some laughs, and have a good time. And it won’t be the same without you there,” Richie said, “Besides, Bill’s whining about you not being there is gonna totally distract from my time! Time I could be spending making out with Eds!”

Flushed, Stan once again shook his head, “I wanna go home, Richie.”

“Staniel, pleeeeeeaaaase,” Richie begged, clasping his hand together and pouting his bottom lip at his best friend.

“Ugh, fine,” Stan said, mostly just wanting to get out of the car, which now had loose papers all over the interior.

Richie followed him out and around to the other side, “Great! And just so you know, I’m making a great sacrifice here! Bill only orders cheese pizza when you’re around! I’m giving up my Hawaiian Pizza for you Stan!”

Stan rolled his eyes as he and Richie walked into the Denbrough residence, so comfortable with this family that  they did not need to knock.

Bill seemed to be in the middle of a monologue when the pair entered the den, his eyes widening when he say the boy with the familiar curls. “Stan,” he exclaimed, “You m-made it!”

“Yeah, no one can resist the Tozier charm,” Richie said, winking at no one in particular.

Stan rolled his eyes, “What he means to say was that he brought me here against my will.”

He must have imagined the slight look of disappointment that crossed Bill’s face.

Purposefully avoiding his usual spot on the love seat next to Bill, he instead opted to sit on the floor in front of the couch, leaning against Beverly’s legs.

Did he imagine that look of confusion Bill sent his way?

After they finally placed their order for two large pizza’s, one cheese, and one Hawaiian, after Stan promised he only wanted a couple slices, they settled into watching one of their favorite movies.

Halfway through, the doorbell rang, alerting the teens to the arrival of their food. Bill hopped up to answer the door, paying the delivery boy, and walking back through the den to the kitchen.

“Stan, do you wanna help me grab plates?”

It was almost an automatic impulse, hopping up and following Bill, but he was halfway to the kitchen when he remembered he did not want to be alone with the boy, so he resigned to keeping quiet while grabbing the plates from their regular cupboard. That was something he loved about the Denbrough house, it’s been the exact same as the first day he stepped foot into the house.

He nearly dropped the plates when he turned around to Bill’s gaze directly on him.

“Are y-you mad at me?” Ah, there is it. Bill had never been very subtle when it came to speaking his mind.

Stan shook his head, “No, of course not,” he said through a tight-lipped smile.

“Is there something bothering you,” Bill’s furrowed brow showed every sign of concern for his friend.

Stan sighed, “I guess I’m just…..stressed.”

“Is your dad pressuring you again? You know you can stay here anytime you need,” Bill’s gaze softened.

Stan’s heart started beating even more rapidly at the brunette’s loving gaze. He only nodded in response.

“Do you w-want to..spend the n-night here,” Bill tripped over his words.

Once again, Stan only nodded in response.

When they returned, they both took their spots next to each other on the love seat after handing out the plates.

Stan definitely did not imagine the smirk and wink he received from Richie when Bill draped his arm across the back of the seat behind Stan.

After the movie, and a not-so-surprising promprosal from Richie to Eddie, the other losers slowly decided to head home.

“Stan, you need a ride home,” Riche asked.

Stan glanced at Bill, his cheeks picking up a faint blush, “No, I’m staying the night.”

“Yowza! Okay Stan the Man, remember to use protection,” Richie howled, wrapping an arm around Eddie as they headed out of the door.

After they were alone, Stan argued that he would wash the dishes while Bill got ready for bed, as a sort of congrats on the big game.

Once Stan was done, and had hung the last plate on the drying rack, he headed upstairs, opening the door to Bill’s room, stopping in his track as a very, very shirtless Bill Denbrough turned around.

Stan felt as if every bit of blood rushed to his face while he stammered an apology, turning around and trying to walk back out the door.

“Stan, it’s okay,” Bill said, quickly pulling a sweatshirt over his head. Stan noticed he stall had a couple of articles of clothing in his hands, and Bill handed them to him. “H-here, I r-r-realized that yo-you probably didn’t b-bring pajamas.”

“Thank you,” Stan said, quietly undressing himself. As he was, he felt Bill’s eyes on him, and was glad for the shirt covering his blush. He had undressed in from of Bill so many times, but never when they were this….close….this alone.

It felt almost intimate.

And as Stan stood in the middle of Bill’s room, with a pair of shorts hanging from his hips and swimming in a shirt much too large for him, he could swear Bill was staring at him. He quickly chose to study the mess of papers lying on Bill’s desk instead of meeting the other boys eyes.

“Stan, please, tell me what’s wr-wrong,” Bill pleaded.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Stan stated, still staring at the papers, trying to will them to be organized with his mind.

“Stan…”

“Greta really likes you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s probably gonna ask you out,” now Stan has begun shuffling papers around, trying to get notes for classes together.

“M-maybe, but-“

“I mean, you two will probably be a great couple.”

“I don’t-“

“I mean, everyone probably thinks you two are already a couple, she WAS wearing your jacket tonight.”

“She asked s-so I-“

“Everyone loves you , so they’ll probably love you two together,” Stan has begun shuffling the papers faster, every so often a piece slips out of his grasp and he has a hard time quelling his tears as he bends over to pick it up.

“Stan-“

“And it’s okay if you ask her to prom, she was talking about it earlier this week.”

“W-what?”

“And when you guys start dating and you hold hands, and kiss, and-“

“STAN!” Bill shouted, grabbing the smaller boys wrists, turning Stan around to face him.

“Yes?” Stan asked, innocently. This was when Bill noticed the tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

“Stan? Wh-what is…what’s wrong?” Bill asked, much more soft this time. Stan shook his head again, tears finally slipping out. Bill simply wrapped his arms around his waist. Stan pushed away with little force, but enough for Bill to get the clue and let him go. “Stan, please.”

“I love you, okay? I love you so god damn much, and not the way that Richie loves you, or the way Mike loves you. I’m IN LOVE with you Bill!” Stan sobbed, “And I know that I’m not good enough for you and…“ Stan wavered, looking the the right words. “And it hurts so much thinking that you’ll never love me the same way that I love you.”

“Why,” Bill simply asked.

“Why do I love you? Because you’re amazing, you can do anything you put your mind to, you’re beautiful, and kind, and smart, and-“

“No, why d-do you think I w-won’t love you?”

Stan suddenly froze, looking up at Bill, who seemed much closer than he was a second ago. “Because…..you can’t.”

Bill smiled that signature Denbrough smile. “I th-thought you said I c-could do anything?” He asked softly, his nervousness showing through the shake of his hands, and the shake of his voice. “Can I kiss you?”

Stan nodded, and when Bill caught his lips with his own, and even as the bells rang in his mind, and the explosions blew in his heart, he realized he was right.

He’s still falling for Bill Denbrough.

[ofmvggles-blog]

                ‘ello ‘ello ! it’s your friendly neighbourhood lily evans played by la. i’m from the ever fucked up united kingdom ( pls save me from the mess we’ve got ourselves into ) and i use the pronouns she/her. but what y’all really wanna read about is my smol bean lily evans so, without further ado...

LILY JANE EVANS. GRYFFINDOR. MUGGLEBORN. SEVENTEEN.

“ not only was she a singularly gifted witch, she was also an uncommonly kind woman. she had a way of seeing the beauty in others even, and perhaps most especially, when that person couldn't see it in themselves. ”

lily evans?? did you mean actual ball of sunshine who loves to love but will fuck you up if you get on the wrong side of her or those closest to her??

i’m not gonna go too much into her backstory ( sister who hates her, became best friends with severus at age 9, etc ) because y’all probably already know it. but she had a loving childhood. her parents own a modest townhouse in the town of cokeworth. detached, tiny garden, with steep steps and one bathroom ( y i  k es ). until she was five lily shared a room with her sister while her mother tried to persuade her father to convert the office into a bedroom. eventually he gave in, but he wasn’t too happy about it. her father, henry evans, is a writer who works from home a lot. he hasn’t published any books, though he has been working on one for as long as lily has known him, so earns most of his money through freelance journalism. her mother, victoria evans, runs a florist on the cokeworth high street. that’s how lily and petunia came to be named, from their mother’s favourite flowers.

despite popular opinion lily wasn’t automatically top of her class, she had to work her way up. when she arrived she was woefully behind her peers, even with severus’s stories about the wizarding world. it seemed that being muggleborn put her at somewhat an disadvantage, even after she had spent most of her summer reading and rereading her textbooks. but lily is nothing if not stubborn and she managed to catch up in no time, mostly through her attempt to read every single book in the library.

her sister got engaged to the dreaded vernon dursley over the summer holiday and lily spent most of her summer ‘celebrating’. it was torture, quite frankly, especially when her sister approached her the day before she was to go back to school to inform her that she was not invited to the wedding. “vernon and i don’t want your kind there”, she had hissed at lily. her mother has promised that she will make petunia see sense, but lily isn’t too hopeful.

lily has a cat ! whispers crazy cat lady alert. named after athena, who she was a little obsessed with when she was younger. she’s wanted a cat for as long as she can remember, nagging her parents at every birthday and christmas to get her a furry friend. but her parents always said no, since her father was allergic. she had all but given up on her quest to get a cat of her own, until that fateful trip to diagon alley before she started at hogwarts. she had read that cats were allowed at hogwarts and, once again, begged her parents but they, once again, refused. so she settled on an owl. but when they entered the pet store lily fell completely in love with a ginger tabby. the family argued for good half an hour in the store about it, until eventually the owner offered to throw in some anti-allergy potion for free if they just got the bloody cat.

lily is deadly afraid of heights. she wasn’t always, she used to enjoy flinging herself off swings to fly. but when she tried it for real, all that way off the ground on nothing but a thin bit of wood, she froze. then the panic kicked in and she fell. not too far, but far enough to break her arm upon impact with the ground. she hasn’t been on a broom since and hates to sit on the edge of the quidditch stands, because looking over the side makes her freeze with terror.

lastly ( because this is getting longer than planned yikes !! ) lily will be training to become a healer once she graduates. she’s already been accepted into the program which her acceptance letter arriving in the holidays. honestly healer is the perfect occupation for lily ?? she’s kind, caring, willing to help those who need it, and has a natural talent for charms and potions. but it wasn’t always her goal in life, she did once want to become an auror. because didn’t all kids want to be an auror at some point ? it was in fifth year that the change happened. she was reading up on the careers, what o.w.l.s she would need and what subject she would need to study at n.e.w.t.s when she came upon a pamphlet for healers. well ?? she was taken from the word go and hasn’t looked back.

if you read all that than omg thank you and congrats ! it was A LOT. pls love me and my babe and hmu to plot !! or just like this and i will slide into your dms <3

[kadtherine]

inspired by that @pansexualriphunter post :  “at some point after rip is rip again but before he’s actually allowed out of the medbay (they gotta make sure he’s healthy or whatever) someone takes the jumpship back to 2017 and raids a local party city (see: pays for the goods provided, thank you very much) and so when rip goes to the bridge for the first time in a while he’s greeted by cake and a banner that says “congrats on not being dead!” and there are balloons and its a pure moment.”

Rip found comfort in knowing that, despite his absence, his team was still as confusing and exasperating as ever. 

Obviously, things hadn’t gone back to the way it was before New York – seeing as there were two new members that he didn’t know. Amaya, he knew from the short time he had spent with the JSA and the few History courses that he remembered.  Nate Heywood was another story, though. He had recognized his name and had made the connection to Henry, but Rip had no recollection of his grandson gaining powers. Which was something he intended to discuss about with Sara as soon as he was allowed of the medbay. To say he wasn’t surprised when Ray cornered him on his way out would be an understatement. His too-wide grin alarmed him, though.

 “Can I do something for you, Mr Palmer?”

“Oh no, no. I just came to see if you’re okay,” Ray answered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

His eyes narrowed, Rip crossed his arms and gave him a nod.

“Well, as you can see, I’m perfectly fine,” At the other man’s unimpressed look, he rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side, “Well, as fine as I can be considering. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Barely registering the way Ray’s eyes widened in a panic, Rip walked around him and made his way toward the bridge.

“Hey! Did you know we had rats on the ship?”

That managed to catch his attention. Stopping in his stride, he slowly turned around, his eyes wide opened as he stared at Ray, the latter stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m sorry. What?” Rip choked out, his hand clenching into a fist by his side.

“We’ve got rats. Well, actually we’ve got one rat – by we, I mean Mick  - but you know how it is with rodents: where there is one, another hides elsewhere and-”

Rip wasn’t sure he had processed everything Ray had been rambling about. Seeing as it concerned rodents on his ship, he knew that he should probably paying attention to the subject of conversation. The random and sudden change of subject caught him by surprise, Ray’s blabber confusing him further more. Martin walking into the medbay stopped him cutting into the other man’s rodents’ rant. Rip watched with a frown as the older man took a look around the room before his gaze fell on him.

“Oh good, you’re still here,” Martin sighed in relief, making his way to him.

“Actually, I was on my way out-” Rip started.

“About that,” he interrupted, rubbing his hands together; “I was thinking that it would be better for you to stay put for a few more days.”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary-“ he started again, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Rip understood the logic behind him staying at the medbay, under constant surveillance. He really did, seeing as the last time he had been left on his own, he had succeeded in deliberately crashing the Waverider in the Stone Age. While he hadn’t been in complete control of his actions when doing so, Rip had been getting better since then – thanks to Jax and Sara travelling into his mind.

“With all due respect, Captain,” Martin spoke up, breaking Rip’s train of thoughts, “You’ve been through quite the ordeal and while I’d like to take your word for it, it wouldn’t be the first time you’d downplay the gravity of your health-“

“Martin,” Rip said, putting an end to the older man’s tirade, “I appreciate the concern and understand your wariness about my current state and my abilities,” he ignored the muttered ‘none of us are wary’ and put a hand on the professor’s shoulder, “But as I was telling Mr Palmer before you came in, I am fine. Beside, I’m aware that things have changed during my absence. I’m planning on taking things slow for now on.”

He watched, slightly puzzled, as Martin and Ray exchanged a look, the latter shrugging in response. With a loud and long sigh, Martin looked back at Rip and gave a small nod.

“Very well, then.”

Giving him a small smile, he patted his shoulder and walked out, making his way to the bridge. He hadn’t even taken two steps into the hallway before having his path blocked by Nate, the latter too busy reading some book to notice his presence. Restraining a groan of frustration, Rip crossed his arms and loudly cleared his throat, stiffening a smirk when he jumped, a yelp coming out of his mouth.

“Heeeeeeeey, Captain Hunter-” Nate drawled out with a sheepish grin before he sobered up and tilted his head to the side, frowning in contemplation,  “Cap-captain Rip Hunter. Mr Hunter. What am I supposed to call you?”

“Rip’s fine, Mr Heywood,” he replied, slightly amused by the other man’s nervous blabber.

“Nate,” he retorted with a finger pointed to himself, earning a snort from Rip, “Which you already knew. But what I meant is, just Nate is fine.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, then,” Rip nodded.

Nate returned the nod, a pleased spreading on his face and his fingers drumming against the hardcover of his book. As an awkward silence began to stretch between them, Rip narrowed his eyes at the other man’s nervous behaviour, the latter bouncing on his toes while clicking his tongue. Tilting his head to the side, he opened his mouth to ask if something was wrong, before thinking better of it and closing it. Nate’s nerves were probably due to him being alone with Rip. At least that what was the Captain thought, his jaw clenched. With another nod and clear of throat, Rip went to move around him, only to have Nate block his way again. 

“It’s really great to meet you in person, you know,” Nate said loudly, ignoring the confused look Rip was sending him, “It’s great to see you live up the stories Amaya and I have been told.”

“Do I really?” Rip deadpanned, an eyebrow lifted in doubt.

He wasn’t too sure that, during his absence, his team had been singing his praises to the two newcomers. Oblivious to his scepticism, Nate nodded frantically, his smile widening.

“Well,” he sighed, “I better go and catch on what I’ve missed if I want to uphold my reputation.

“And just out of curiosity, where are you going?” Nate asked, his tone hesitant as he stepped to the side, once again blocking the Captain’s path.

“My office, if that’s fine with you?” Rip retorted, his confusion turning into irritation.

“Ah,” he grimaced, tilting his head to the side, “Actually, you can’t go there.”

“And why’s that?” he shot back, his stance defensive.

Rip felt a bit of pride at the way Nate’s eyes widened, unconsciously taking a couple of steps back. His pride was short-lived, though, and was replaced by guilt as he noticed his hands clench into fists by his side, as if readying him to attack. 

“You can’t go to your office because all of the reports concerning the latest missions have been stocked in the library,” the new arrival suddenly intervened, not even letting Rip the time to think about an apology.

Turning around, he found Amaya standing by his side, her arms crossed and staring at Nate with intent. He watched, with a frown, as Nate returned the look before he snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

“Right, that’s why,” he confirmed, though his tone sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was trying to convince Rip, “I’ll be going now.” 

Amaya let out a snort as she watched Nate beat a hasty retreat, muttering under his breath, Rip lifted an eyebrow at her in question, to which she responded with a shake of head. With a sigh, he ran a hand over his face, the other stuffed in his pocket as he began to make his way to the library. To his surprise, Amaya didn’t follow Nate on his way back to the bridge but walked by his side. Noticing his stare, she stopped and frowned.

“Do you mind if I walk with you for a bit?” she inquired.

“Oh no, it’s fine,” he reassured.

Amaya shot him a small smile and wrapped her arms around herself. Both of them fell into a comfortable silence as they made their way to the library. Rip was aware of the constant glances that she threw his way every ten seconds. He couldn’t tell if she was looking at him with suspicion or if she was just curious. They hadn’t spent d that much time together, if you were to ignore the time he had spent trying to kill the entire crew.

“Can I ask you something?” Amaya spoke up, putting an end to the silence and breaking his train of thoughts.

“Uh – sure,” Rip stopped walking, his hands stuffed in his pockets, “what is it?”

He watched, with a frown, as she tucked her hair behind her ear, nibbling nervously on her bottom lip.

“About the JSA,” she started, clenching and unclenching her fists, “Were they mad-”

“About you leaving?” he finished, an eyebrow cocked. With a sigh of relief, Amaya nodded, “I don’t think so. Not that I would know, I haven’t spent that much time with them. They did spoke very highly of you, though,” Rip added after noticing her frustration, “I guess if they were angry at you at some point, they understood the reasoning between your departure.”

She shot him a small smile at the assurance.

“The same thing can be said about you, you know,” her smile widened at his perplexed tilt of head, “what I meant is that this group of people speaks very highly of you, too. They’ve never lost faith in you or the mission you’ve trusted them with. And after meeting you, I can see why.”

Rip gave her a crooked smile and bowed his head, rubbing the back of his neck in humility. He knew he hadn’t been the greatest Captain or team leader, endangering members of his crew without a second thought and keeping secrets from them. He had tried to redeem himself in the months following the destructing of the Oculus. Apparently, he had managed to get through them, somehow.

“Well, it seems that it took me turning to the Dark Side for them to do what they’re being told,” Rip retorted, smirking.

Huffing out a laugh, Amaya gave his arm a squeeze, oblivious to the other’s surprised reaction at the comforting touch.

“You should give them more credit. Same thing goes for you, Captain.”

With another squeeze and smile, she let go of him and began to make her way back to the bridge. He watched her leave, a contemplative look on his face before he continued his trek to the library. For some reason, he wasn’t surprised when he found Mick sprawled on the desk chair, his feet crossed on the table and a bottle he didn’t recognize as one of his own in his hands. With a sigh, Rip walked in and made his way to the desk, where he could see an even pile of folders in its corner. Mick barely spared him a glance as he got closer and, without a word, grabbed an extra glass from the cupboard behind him. Grabbing a file from the pile, Rip watched with a frown as he poured an amber liquid to the rim of the glass.

“I don’t think that I should be drinking at the moment,” he remarked.

“What makes you think the second glass is for you?” Mick retorted, pushing it toward him with the butt of the bottle, “Beside if you’re planning on reading these, alcohol is going to help.”

With a grimace, Rip dropped the folder back onto the desk and sat down in front of him, watching as Mick emptied half of his glass in one go without wincing. Leaning back into his chair, he took the glass, the liquid swirling in it as he did so.

“All good in the head, now?” Mick grumbled, the ghost of a smirk on his face.

“I suppose,” he snorted, looking up at the pyro. Trust Mick to tactlessly inquire about his mental health. Mimicking the other man’s smirk, Rip lifted his glass in a silent toast, “And I hear that I have you to thank for.”

Grunting, Mick briefly looked up at him before looking down at his lap, where he was trying to balance his glass without having the liquid overflow from it.

“Don’t thank me yet, English. I didn’t do it for you anyway,” at Rip’s cocked eyebrow, he lifted a shoulder, “Most of the crew was going crazy with you on the dark side, especially Captain Blondie and the kid.”

“Still, you did it for the team,” Rip retorted, stiffening an amused smile at Mick’s reluctance at admitting that he actually cared.

“I did it for myself,” he corrected, glaring at him, “I got tired of everyone whining about you.”

Undeterred by his glare, Rip gave him a nod and raised his glass to him. With an eye roll, Mick clinked his glass with his before downing his drink in one go. Rip gave his drink a cautious sniff before taking a gulp. His eyes scrunched in disgust, he was barely aware of Mick snickering as he struggled to swallow what he thought was whiskey, coughing. 

“What the bloody hell is that?” Rip croaked out, eyeing his glass with distaste.

“No idea,” Mick admitted as he got up from his chair, slamming his empty glass on the desk, “Snatched it from Al Capone’s.”

 His eyes widened at the nonchalant confession, his head tilted to the side as if he had misheard the words that had left the thief’s mouth. Shaking his head, he cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Do I really want to know how you came across Al Capone’s possession?”

“Probably not,” Mick retorted, slamming the bottle in front of him with a smirk, “Take it as a ‘welcome back’ gift, Captain.”

“You shouldn’t have, really,” Rip deadpanned.

Snorting, Mick patted his back and made his way out of the library, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Sighing, he pushed back the drink with a scowl on his face and grabbed a couple of folders. He was half way through reading about their mission in Feudal Japan, when he heard a soft knock. Rip looked up to find Sara leaning against the threshold, a small smile on her face.

“Barely out of the medbay and already back at work,” she clicked her tongue in fake disapproval, “You’ve got a problem, Hunter.” 

Rolling his eyes, he let out a scoff and closed off the file, throwing it back onto the pile of read file he had made.

“I’ve been out of the loop for a while, just trying to catch up,” Rip crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair as Sara hopped onto the desk, “I haven’t seen much of you, today.”

“Well, being Captain is a lot harder that it seems. Everyone wants a piece of me,” she retorted, flipping her hair behind her shoulder.

“Yeah,” he smiled at her, “Well, you’ve done a remarkable job from what I can see.”

Snorting, Sara grabbed his discarded glass and downed it in one go, wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat. Judging by the disgusted look on her face, she was wincing at the taste.

“This is nasty,” she muttered, putting it back onto the desk, “I’m glad you’re back, though. Takes some of the weight off my shoulders.

“I don’t know about that,” Rip began, his tone teasing and light, “Like I’ve said, you’ve been handling it very well. I could leave, retire or take a break.”

He saw her expression darken and her fist going for his shoulder, but he didn’t stop it. He gritted his teeth in pain when her punch landed on his shoulder, scowling at her as he rubbed his arm.

“Don’t say that. You’re not going anywhere, Hunter. Got it?”  Sara warned, shaking a finger in his face.

With a nod, he grabbed her finger and before she could take it back, Rip intertwined their fingers, giving her hand a small squeeze. He watched, with a fond smile, as the tips of her ears redden.

“I apologize for the interruption,” Gideon intervened, “Your presences are requested on the bridge, Captains.”

“Roger that, Gideon,” Sara replied, rubbing the back of her neck with her free hand.

Clearing her throat, she pulled Rip to his feet and let go of his hand, plastering a smile on her face as she stuffed her hands in her pockets.

“Come on, you’ve heard the A.I,” Sara nodded to the ‘gifted’ bottle on the desk, “You should bring that with you.”

Rip frowned at her before his gaze fell onto the offending bottle of alcohol. By the time he looked back to the doorway, Sara had already disappeared. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed the bottle and made his way out. His frown deepened as he noticed the obscurity in the hallway leading to the bridge. His hand automatically went to his side, only to remember a second too late that he didn’t have his gun holster or any kind of weaponry by his side

Swearing, Rip held out a hand as he slowly trudged through the hall. Letting out a breath, he stopped at the bridge’s entrance, squinting his eyes as he tried to discern silhouettes in the dark.

“Gideon, lights,” Rip whispered.

His eyes fluttering shut as the room was enlightened, he barely had to register anything before he was assaulted with noise. 

“SURPRISE!”

“Jesus Fucking-” Rip jumped back, a hand coming to rest on his racing heart.

Letting out a breath, he reopened his eyes to find the entire crew grinning back at him, apparently amused by his predicament. Their behaviours weren’t the weirdest thing, though, nor were the party hats that they each were wearing. No, what caught his attention was the fact that the bridge had been completely decorated with party ornaments. Balloons filled the room, the floor was covered with confetti and banners hung from the ceiling. Tilting his head to the side, Rip narrowed his eyes as he tried to read what was written on it.

“What the hell -” Rip started.

“Do you like it?” Ray made his way to him, his party hat crooked and a garland wrapped around his neck, “Sara and Jax didn’t find any ‘Congratulations on not being dead’ at Party City, obviously. So I made it – Nate helped,” he added, rolling his eyes at Nate’s loud, oblivious cough.

Rip wasn’t sure he had understood any of the words that had left Ray’s mouth, but still he nodded as the other man wrapped around his shoulders and led him onto the bridge. He barely blinked at Mick walking to him, a smirk on his face and pried the bottle out of his grasp.

“Would you look at that? The good Captain brought booze at his own party,” he unscrewed the bottle and raised it in a toast, “How thoughtful.”

He frowned as Mick walked away, bringing the bottle to his mouth before turning back to Ray.

“Wait- when did any of you had the time to go to Party City? And how did I not notice it?” Rip muttered to himself. 

Amaya snorted at his slow processing, shoving an opened bottle of beer out in his hand.

“You’ve been spending a lot of time unconscious lately,” she shrugged, taking a sip of her own drink, “Jax and Sara might have borrowed the drop ship and flown to 2017 for some shopping.”

Again, Rip could do nothing but nod. Bringing his beer to his mouth, he replayed the last few days in his mind, trying to understand how could he have missed it. Hell, he hadn’t even noticed their strange behaviours until today. With him spending most of his time in the medbay and drifting from sleeping to awake every five hours, it was not as if he had the occasion to notice they were hiding something from him. Rip had noticed the constant absence of Jax and Sara, but he had attributed to them being busy.

He spotted Jax and Martin discussing over a cart of food while Sara was leaning against the threshold of his study, laughing about something Amaya said. A clear of throat made him look up to find the superhero duo he had been observing a moment ago in front, in front with their cart of food.

“Hey guys,” Jax breathed out, handing each of them a cupcake. Rip couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed the hourglass drawn on it. He cocked an eyebrow at the younger man, to which the latter responded with a shrug, “I was going for a theme.”

“Yeah, a really weird theme,” Sara remarked, appearing at Jax’s side, “You should have seen the baker’s face when we asked when we told her the message we wanted written on the cake: ‘congrats on not being dead and not a mindless drone anymore.”

“I don’t see the other half of that message,” Rip remarked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Eh, the first half was already weird enough,” she shrugged her shoulder, dragging her finger through the icing before spreading it on Rip’s cheek.

Grimacing in disgust, he wiped his cheek on his shoulder and threw her a glare, the latter ignoring it as Sara sipped on her beer, a smirk on her face. Humming in realization, she handed him her bottle, which he took with a suspicious look, and stormed into his study. Rip threw a look at Jax, to which he responded with a clueless shrug. Sara reappeared with a wrapped in her hands, which did nothing to ease his suspicion. She stopped in front of him, a satisfied and eager smile on her face.

“Let’s do a trade,” she said, nodding to the beers and cupcake he had in his hands.

Knowing better than arguing with her about it, Rip put the bottles and pastry on top of the box before carefully grabbing the package from under. Sara grabbed the bottles by the neck and put the cupcake into her mouth, waggling her eyebrows at Rip’s unimpressed expression.

“You didn’t need to get me a present, y’know,” he sighed, pulling on the bow on top of it.

Rolling her eyes, Sara took the cake out of her mouth.

“Open it before you start whining. And then, you’ll thank me,” she added, biting into the pastry.

With a sigh, he slowly took of the lid of the box, leaning back as if preparing himself for something to blow in his face. Nothing happened, though. Cocking an eyebrow, he let the lid fall onto the floor and peered into the package, his heart skipping a beat out the familiar pocket watch resting on top of a neatly brown trench coat. His mouth dry, Rip looked up to see Sara’s smug expression. Huffing out a laugh, he shook his head and took the watch out of the box, slowly opening it and letting out a sigh of relief at the untouched photograph.

“Where did you find this?” he breathed out, finding it impossible to tear his eyes from the picture. 

“In the inside pocket of your coat, the latter i found in your study” Sara grinned, satisfied, “I thought that I should hold on to it. As for the coat, well, I don’t think I could imagine our Captain wearing anything else that the coat he stole from his cowboy boyfriend. Am I right, fellas?” she finished, raising her beer.

Jax and Ray replied with an ‘Aye’, each raising their drinks while Martin gave a small nod and Mick grunted. Sara turned back to him, raising an eyebrow as if saying ‘see?’. Rip responded with an eye roll, closing the pocket watch and slipping it into the box.

“Thank you,” he said, looking up at her with a smile, which she returned with a nod, “To all of you, actually,” Rip added, his gaze darting from one person to another, “I’m very grateful for all that each of you have done and I’ll forever be in your-”                                      

“Urgh,” Mick groaned, his head falling backward, “he’s getting sappy.”

“He’s right,” Sara intervened before Rip could even think about protesting, “Don’t ruin my party mood, Hunter. Gideon, play my jam!”

Cheers filled the bridge as the Rolling Stones’ Satisfaction began blaring through the speakers. Rip watched with a fond smile as Jax made both Amaya and Sara twirl under his arms while Ray and Nate stayed to the side, the former singing out of tune and the latter playing air-guitar. Detaching himself from Jax, Amaya succeeded in convincing Mick to join her, which Rip found pretty incredible and funny. He had to stiffen a smirk when the pyro turned to glare at him, as if sensing his amusement, and raised his beer in greeting. From the corner of his eye, he could see Sara leave Martin’s side and moved toward him. 

He cocked an eyebrow at her as she sang the words under her breath, a hand outstretched for him to take. With an eye roll, he took her hand and let himself being pulled in the middle of the bridge. He let out a small chuckle, bending at an awkward angle as she made him turn under her arm before doing the same, her arms, then, going to wrap around his shoulders. Rip’s hands went down to her waist as they began to sway from side to side, Satisfaction changing to Prodigal Son. And if his hold around Sara tightened as the songs changed, no one seemed to care. Rip didn’t care. He was home and that was all that mattered.

[thrashermaxey]

21 Fantasy Hockey Rambles

Every Sunday, we'll share 21 Fantasy Rambles – formerly 20 Fantasy Thoughts – from our writers at DobberHockey. These thoughts are curated from the past week's ‘Daily Ramblings’.

Writers: Michael Clifford, Ian Gooding, Cam Robinson, and Dobber

  1. One season does not make a career, but despite the high shooting percentage, it was a marvelous campaign for Hawks’ Erik Gustafsson.

The question is if he maintains his power-play role; he had more than 100 minutes at five-on-four over the next-closest Blackhawks defenseman. Henri Jokiharju looked great whenever they allowed him to play in the NHL, while Adam Boqvist was a top-10 pick last year for the franchise and has been tearing up the OHL playoffs.

It seems certain that unless he falls off the map (he won’t), Gustafsson should have the PP role for 2019-20. Beyond that? Less certain. (apr12)

  2. You know who the Leafs don’t need? William Nylander. I mean, sure you could use a second-line talent with good first-line upside. But they have enough of those and could shed one if it means keeping a top-six character player who brings other things to the table.

Since Nylander makes the money he does, logically he would be the best one to shed. Still shaking my head over that “not trading Nylander” comment from Kyle Dubas. Nylander is a great top six forward, perhaps even a first liner, but there are several dozen of him in the league – most definitely not a rare commodity.

And if he costs the team keeping the likes of Andreas Johnsson or Kasperi Kapanen (I won’t even consider them losing Mitch Marner over keeping Nylander, I shudder), and prevents the team from acquiring a No.3 or 4 D, then that’s too big a sacrifice. (apr8)

  3. The reason I am not a big fan of Alex Nylander in keeper leagues? Injuries. He had himself a nice season this year taking a big step forward in his pro career after a couple of steps backward. But he had a different injury wipe out two of his training camps, back-to-back, and then finally getting an opportunity with Buffalo that looks as though he is there to stay – and he gets hurt again.

If every time Nylander gets some sort of opportunity, or gets on a role he suffers an injury, he’s never going to get going. There are too many other prospects to roll the dice on, so I’ll leave the younger Nylander to someone else.

I just realized I’m kinda trashing on both Nylander brothers today. Time to write something nice: Both have tremendous upside and I really like William as a potential first-liner – no matter what team he plays for. In fact, I think it’s better for both him and the Leafs if he went somewhere else. He would flourish elsewhere and they would address some serious needs. (apr8)

  4. By far the biggest question regarding the Flames entering the playoffs was their goaltending. Mike Smith had been downright awful during significant stretches of the season, so would he be able to hold up during the playoffs? Why didn’t the Flames give David Rittich a go instead?

Smith has found his game and then some. Since he doesn’t fit the definition of a stud goalie, he fits the definition of a hot goalie, which can just as well get the job done in the playoffs if he can be hot for long enough.

Even though Smith has a brief playoff history for a goalie of his service time, his career playoff numbers are outstanding (11-8, 1.79 GAA, .947 SV% entering Game 2). Maybe that could have counted for something in coach Bill Peters’ decision to start him in Game 1? The numbers aren’t recent, though, as his last playoff experience was in 2011-12 when he led the Coyotes to the conference final (his playoff numbers are mainly from that season). It’s more likely that Smith’s much-improved play swayed the decision (9-5-1, 2.08 GAA, .916 SV% since February 14). (apr14)

  5. This year’s Dobby Awards!

Fantasy Player of the Year: Andrei Vasilevskiy. It’s not a coincidence that the teams that won each of my leagues that involve goalies, owned Vas. As I noted to one GM when we were discussing the fairness of the goalie points system in that league: “Owning Vasilevskiy under these rules right now is like owning Gretzky in 1986.”

Vasilevskiy  only played 53 games thanks to a broken foot, and yet he still managed 39 wins. If healthy all year, he may have taken a run at 50 wins. He also boasted a 0.925 SV% in an era where goaltenders don’t really do that very often.

Runner-Up: Nikita Kucherov, who finished with 128 points, 12 more than the next player and the highest total in 23 years. (apr8)

  6. Fantasy Rookie of the Year: Jordan Binnington. I wrestled with this one for a long time because I’m a huge Elias Pettersson fan and feel he will be an elite player. As in, top-5 in the league. Meanwhile, Binnington could Jim Carrey his way out of the NHL and become this massive bust. But we’ll always remember this year.

In the end, I asked myself: which rookie did the most to help a fantasy owner win? And frankly, Winnington turned more than a few fantasy squads around on his own this year. So, even though I would much sooner own runner-up Pettersson and honorable-mention Rasmus Dahlin by a wide, wide, ridiculously wide margin in keeper leagues, Binnington has to be the ROY in fantasy hockey. (apr8)

  7. Fourth Year Magic Award: Dylan Larkin teased in Year 3 with 63 points and then took another huge step this season with 73. This is quite the feat when you consider that no other Detroit player reached 55.

Runner-Up: Max Domi jumped from 45 points in his third year to 72. He was a big reason why the Habs made it to Game 81 before finally being eliminated from the playoffs. (apr8)

  8. Second-Half Stud Award: Patrick Kane’s 59 points in 39 games tied Nikita Kucherov in scoring since January 5. It was also a nice jump from his already-solid first-half pace of 51 points in 42 games.

Runner-Up: Sean Couturier, who had 47 points in the last 42 games after starting out with 29 in 38. This was despite managing just three points and going minus-9 in the final seven contests. (apr8)

  9. Second-Half Swoon Award: Patrik Laine had 20 measly points in the last 49 games after starting the season with 30 in 33.

Runner-Up: Jeff Skinner was a revelation with 44 points in 45 games to start the year. He was going to demolish his career high of 63 points, no question about it. That is, until he didn’t. Just 19 in his last 37 to finish up with, you guessed it, 63 points. Congrats to anyone who traded either of these players in January. (apr8)

  10. Although Art Ross Trophy winner Nikita Kucherov was the top-ranked player in playoff pools, he has been held without a point in two games so far and will still be scoreless in the playoffs after Game 3 because of his one-game suspension.

Steven Stamkos and Brayden Point, who were projected to go second and third, have also been held without a point in the first two games (see our Dobber Hockey Experts Panel picks for more). In addition, Kucherov has been held to just two goals in his last 14 playoff games. He’s been getting it done and then some in the regular season, but not so much in the playoffs when the intensity is turned up several notches.

So, if the Lightning is eliminated in the first round, does that mean the folks that didn’t pick any Lightning players will win their playoff pools? It probably isn’t that simple, but it goes to show that playoff pools aren’t as easy to predict as you might think and sometimes a counterintuitive strategy (although more risky) wins in the end. The silver lining is that if the Bolts come back and win this series, you’ll probably get the same four or five games of production out of them than you thought you would receive from them in the first round anyway.

It's funny how in two short games that the narrative on the Lightning has shifted from being the model franchise to the ultimate choke team. A win in Game 3 would go a long way toward righting the ship. A loss, well… (apr14)

  11. Jordan Weal has teased us at the end of the season like this before. And the last time he did it, he was set to become a UFA and earned himself a two-year, one-way contract.

I think his progress was derailed by the Flyers lucking into the draft lottery win and adding Nolan Patrick to the lineup. It nudged Weal down the roster and he hasn’t done much of anything since.

Here he is, set to become a UFA again and he ends things in Montreal with eight points in nine games. What kind of contract he earns from that should determine how much of a chance he will get. And to be fair, he had plenty of top-six opportunities in Arizona, but couldn’t find the chemistry. He is clearly a guy who will lean on chemistry with a talented player for his points. (apr8)

  12. Vince Dunn has long been thought of as an offensive defenseman. He had 99 points over his final 120 games in the OHL, and had 45 points in 72 games as a 20-year old rookie in the AHL back in 2016-17.

All I’m saying for now is that I’m leery of predicting some sort of Erik Gustafsson-esque breakout. In St. Louis, there is still Alex Pietrangelo’s ice time to contend with and Colton Parayko isn’t someone to just eschew. Of course, Dunn is still just 22 years old, so the fact that we’re even talking about him potentially being an offensive factor from the blue line is a very good sign. (apr12)

  13. When we look at the list of top producers per minute from the blue line at five-on-four, most of the names make sense. We see Torey Krug, Dustin Byfuglien, Keith Yandle, Victor Hedman, and Morgan Rielly, among others. Who’s the defenseman that finished second in points/60 minutes at five-on-four this year (minimum of 100 minutes)? It was Rangers’ Neal Pionk.

In fact, over the last two years, Pionk leads all defensemen in points/60 minutes on the power play. Yes, all defensemen. Granted, it’s limited ice time (140 minutes or so) but it’s been an unbelievable run.

I think a bit of caution should be used here. Pionk had a poor season defensively, as much of the rest of the team did. Tony DeAngelo had a good season for the team even if coach David Quinn wouldn’t play him every night. Kevin Shattenkirk is still lurking and I’m sure he’d like to have a rebound season of his own. I’m not entirely sure what the Rangers are going to do on the blue line next year. I’m not entirely sure the Rangers know what the Rangers are going to do on the blue line next year.

There could be some sneaky value here should: A) Pionk be a regular next year again and; B) no one else is brought in. There are a lot of moving parts that can change in the next 5-6 months. (apr12)

  14. I’m interested to see what Robin Lehner’s contract ends up being this summer. A lengthy postseason run with the Isles could mean a significant pay raise. Cap league owners are watching carefully. (apr11)

  15. In spite of the loss in Game 2 vs the Predators, Ben Bishop was stellar, stopping 40 of 42 shots to keep the Stars in this game. With his 1.92 GAA and .946 SV% in two playoff games, Bishop is carrying a strong regular season into the playoffs, where he has been the Stars’ best player so far. Bishop finished the regular season with a 1.98 GAA and .934 SV% and seven shutouts, which are numbers that could result in a Vezina Trophy nomination. (apr14)

  16. David Savard had a marvelous season for Columbus. It’s a shame he’s stuck behind Seth Jones and Zach Werenski on the PP depth chart. I would like to see him get top power play minutes sometime. (apr11)

  17. So, I wanted to take a stab at what the NHL might look like in four years. Ready to be made a fool of again? I am.

A lot of stars have signed huge contracts in recent seasons with lengths of anywhere from six to eight years. A lot of those contracts will be running out in the same three-year span, and that will lead to a lot of talent in unrestricted free agency, even if they’re older.

Per Cap Friendly, here are some of the names that could theoretically be available after the 2022-23 season: Patrick Kane, Vladimir Tarasenko, Jonathan Toews, David Pastrnak, Sean Monahan, Nathan MacKinnon, Dylan Larkin, Ryan O’Reilly, Max Pacioretty, James van Riemsdyk, Jonathan Huberdeau, Shayne Gostisbehere, and Bo Horvat. That kind of talent in a single free agent class is almost surreal.

Of course, as alluded to, a lot of players will be in their 30s by that point. There are a handful of guys who will be in their mid-to-late 20s like MacKinnon, Pastrnak, Monahan, and Larkin. With the likelihood of a lockout looming, will some of the older players not named who will also be UFA like Milan Lucic, Kyle Okposo and Duncan Keith be bought out?

The younger guys, I’m sure, will be extended by their current teams. What about everyone else? Wouldn’t it be cool for Toews and Kane to do what Paul Kariya and Teemu Selanne did and take cheap contracts to sign somewhere together? Regardless, in a few years’ time, there will be a lot of high-profile free agents that will start hitting the market. (apr10)

  18. It seems pretty likely that Colorado is one of the top teams in the league in four years, isn’t it? They’ll have Nathan MacKinnon and Mikko Rantanen on the roster, Samuel Girard will be a top-tier puck-mover, Cale Makar has the look of a future Norris Trophy contender, and then there’s Ottawa’s top pick from this year. There will be a great core to build around and if management can manage to not pull an Edmonton or Buffalo, it will hopefully be a championship core.

Of course, there is a lot else the team will have to deal with. Their captain, Gabriel Landeskog, is a free agent after the 2020-21 season. Will he still be around? Will Tyson Barrie? Will any of the young guys currently on the roster like J.T. Compher, Alex Kerfoot and Tyson Jost be making an impact on the 2022-23 roster? This is certainly a team on the rise, but the toughest leap to make is from a good team to a championship-calibre team. Can the Avs be that team?

I say yes. There were some early bumps in the road but the Avalanche management group has made solid deals over the last year or so. As long as they can keep making positive deals for the franchise, there’s no reason to believe they’ll flounder. I believe that in April 2023, we’ll be talking about the Avalanche as one of the top franchises in the league, returning to the glory they enjoyed early in the franchise’s existence. (apr10)

  19. Cale Makar is the 2018-19 Hobey Baker winner. After playing in Saturday’s championship game, it’s possible that he could debut with the Avalanche as early as Game 3 on Monday night. Of course, we’ll be keeping an eye on the top prospect blueliner should he enter the Avs’ lineup. With 49 points in 40 games with UMass, the 2017 fourth overall pick is definitely a blueliner that should be heavily sought-after in keeper leagues. (apr13)

Not that I’m not looking forward to seeing Makar in the NHL, but what an introduction to the top professional hockey league; “Here ya go kid, you’re starting your career in a playoff series against the top team (Flames) in the West.” (apr11)

  20. Dustin Byfuglien was injured on December 29. He returned in early February for five games and then was injured again, not returning until the end of March. That’s important because Byfuglien is a top-pair defenseman whose relative expected goals against numbers were among the top-20 defenseman league-wide this year.

Over the last three years, Mark Scheifele’s shot share numbers drop from nearly 53 percent to under 49 percent when he’s not on the ice with Byfuglien, while Bryan Little’s drops from 52.2 percent to 49.2 percent. Big Buff is an important player. (apr9)

  21. Legendary coach Joel Quenneville was hired by the Florida Panthers to be their next bench boss last Monday. He replaces the recently fired Bob Boughner and will try to take the Panthers to the playoffs for the first time in four years, and past the first round for the first time in over 20 years. You can read Dobber’s take on the hiring here.

All I will say is that I do not believe coaching was and is the issue with the Panthers. I’ll leave it at that. (apr9)

  Have a good week, folks!!

  from All About Sports https://dobberhockey.com/hockey-home/21-fantasy-hockey-rambles/21-fantasy-hockey-rambles-13/

[maysoper]

How Sweet It Is

That, ladies and gentlemen, is Brandon Reid, head coach of the Danish Metal Ligaen's Aalborg Pirates, hoisting the Metal Cup after the Pirates captured the trophy a week ago on January 20 for the first time in the team's history. The Metal Cup isn't the league championship, though, but rather an in-season challenge for all the teams of the Metal Ligaen. I'll explain what the Metal Cup is below and how a team goes about winning it, but this is one of the big steps that Brandon Reid has been aiming for with his team, and he can now put that on his resumé as a head coach. With Aalborg playing well towards the end of the season and being bolstered by this Metal Cup win, the Pirates are looking to make a pile of noise in the Metal Ligaen Playoffs in March! Originally, the Metal Cup tournament featured all ten Metal Ligaen teams plus two teams from the Danish first division. The top-four teams from the previous year used to advance automatically to the quarterfinals, and the remaining eight teams would play to see who advanced to meet those four teams. Games were an aggregate two-game series, similar to soccer, with teams being eliminated as they move forward. The winning team who outlasted everyone else won the Metal Cup. In 2017, however, the Metal Cup format was changed when the expansion Hvidovre Fighters joined the league. The tournament would only consist of teams from the Metal Ligaen and, rather than having the two-game aggregate system, the top-four teams after 20 regular season games would be invited to a final-four tournament. The final four teams this season included the Herning Blue Fox, the Odense Bulldogs, the Rungsted Seier Capital, and the Aalborg Pirates in that order. Obviously, the fourth-ranked team out of the four teams would have an uphill battle against Herning, but Pirates played a solid game over the entire sixty minutes in taking the 4-1 victory from Herning! With the top-ranked team in the four-team tournament ousted, the Pirates kept their eyes on the scoreboard to see who they would play between Odense and Rungsted! It would be the third-ranked Rungsted Seier Capital who would emerge as the victors, and the Aalborg Pirates would play another incredible game against Rungsted last Saturday as they skated to the 5-2 victory at Jyske Bank Box in Herning! Henry Hardarsson, not normally known as a sniper, scored 4 goals in the two-game tournament as he earned MVP honours skating on a line with Mikkel Højbjerg and Julian Jakobsen! To the victors go the spoils!

Congratulations to Brandon Reid and the Aalborg Pirates on their Metal Cup win as the first benchmark on their way to a Metal Ligaen championship! All of the hard work that is going into building this team by Brandon is really proving fruitful with the last couple of successful seasons! Congrats on the "pokalvinder"! Until next time, keep your sticks on the ice! from Sports News http://hockey-blog-in-canada.blogspot.com/2018/01/how-sweet-it-is.html

[shireness-says]

Playing the Part Epilogue: Superboy and the Invisible Girl (Reprise)

Summary: As a stage manager who’s clawed her way up from the bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU.  Rated T. Also on AO3.  Prologue  Ch. 1  Ch. 2  Ch. 3Ch. 4  Ch. 5  Ch. 6  Ch. 7  Ch. 8  Ch. 9  Ch. 10  Ch. 11  Ch. 12 Ch. 13  Ch. 14  Ch. 15  Ch. 16  Ch. 17  Ch. 18

A/N: We made it, guys! Thanks for sticking with me through the slowest slow burn ever. I like to think it paid off.

Title taken from “Next to Normal”. Full disclosure, there is not a reprise of “Superboy and the Invisible Girl” in the musical. However, a reprise oftentimes takes the original song and builds upon it, adding extra verses to show development in plot. It seemed appropriate for this chapter, which has echoes of Chapter 13 (Also called Superboy and the Invisible Girl).

One last round of thanks to @snidgetsafan for her beta services, and an extra thank you to everyone who’s reblogged, liked, commented, or messaged me about this!

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @mystrangedarkson

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy this sappy conclusion!

Four years later

“Welcome back to Sign Off, everybody!”

Emma knows that Killian will do his ear scratch when he finds her watching his segment, but she wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s like reliving a little bit of their history. Plus, it’s not every day that your spouse is on national television; skipping this would earn her “Bad Wife” points, or something.

He’s still bashful as he walks out, still kind of ducks his head when he waves and acts like he’s embarrassed to be there. You’d think after several years of magazine interviews and newspaper profiles and talk show appearances he’d lose some of that shyness and uncertainty, or at least get used to it, but some things never change. It’s a damn good thing she finds it cute.

Archie is as charming as ever, shaking Killian’s hand with an enthusiasm usually reserved for inside jokes. That’s just who the host is, though. “So, it’s been a while since we saw you last. I hear a few things have happened.”

“Oh, just a few.”

Hopper starts pulling out photos. “Pride and Prejudice was a hit.”

“Yes, a great group effort. They just closed a few months ago, congrats to everyone involved.”

The host shows a picture from his Tony speech. “You won a Tony for playing Mr. Darcy.”

“So they tell me. My brother kidnapped the statue.”

(That’s only halfway true. Yes, Liam had taken the statue for a while, setting up a popular Instagram account to display all the places he took the golden figure. One of those places had been Henry’s 6th grade English class, turning her son into a middle school celebrity for a couple of months. Though bringing Liam and Killian along with the award probably had something to do with that, too.)

Emma can just spot the Tony now from where she sits, bookending a cluster of novels on the top shelf of the bookshelf in her and Killian’s apartment. It had been a little bittersweet, leaving her old apartment where she and Henry had both grown and flourished, but she and Killian had both agreed that they would need more space. It’s worth it, anyways, to wake up next to Killian every day in a place that’s theirs. Emma misses living next door to Elsa some days, but now that Henry’s fifteen her supervision isn’t quite so needed anymore anyways. It would have come to an end regardless when Elsa had moved in with Liam in his fancy apartment. Emma instead contents herself with the knowledge that Elsa’s job at the Met - her dream job, really - means she and Liam will be based in New York for the foreseeable future, even if the latter occasionally does have to leave for filming in other locations. Killian likes to joke about his brother and Elsa “living in sin”, like they hadn’t done the same thing, but it does mean they still get to see Liam and Elsa fairly often.

Her real Killian walks back into the living room at that point. “Oh Christ, not this drivel. Emma, I’m embarrassed enough as it is, let’s find something else to watch.” He may gripe and groan, but he still collapses onto the couch beside her, letting out an appreciative and exhausted sigh.

“Oh, I’m watching this, babe,” she replies, smiling over at Killian before burrowing her head into his side. She knows by this point that he’s all bark; he’s a pushover, really, especially where his family is concerned.

She must have missed the introduction of his latest movie project – an interesting project portraying Pan as the villain of Neverland with Killian playing Captain Hook as a misunderstood rogue – because there’s publicity stills up on the screen when she redirects her attention back that way.

“My stepson’s a little upset, really, because he had the idea first,” the Killian on the screen explains. “Which, trust me, was not the reaction I was hoping for.”

“Hey, that was almost funny,” Emma comments, nudging him in the side as the audience laughs.

“It’s embarrassing, is what it is,” Killian grouses. It must be that thing where actors don’t like seeing their own work - Emma’s read about that before. It’s not going to stop her from affectionately picking at him, though, and it’s not going to keep her from watching the whole thing.

“And on a personal note, does everyone remember this moment from last time?” Archie asks, cutting to the clip of Killian talking about a certain prickly and dedicated stage manager. When the camera cuts back, she knows what’s coming, and smiles when she feels Killian press a kiss to her head as the host pulls out a copy of their wedding photo. “Well good news to all those shipping that on the internet, because you two tied the knot!” The audience cheers, and as Emma watches televised Killian grin widely, she thinks that’s the most comfortable she’s ever seen him in an interview. “Now, how long have you two been married now?”

“Coming up on two years, three months from now.”

He’d proposed one evening when Emma had least expected it. They’d talked about marriage before - considering that they were living together and in a committed relationship, having that conversation seemed like the responsible thing to do - but it had been a lovely surprise all the same. Killian had been waiting with the ring when she got home from work on a Wednesday, on bended knee and everything in their little foyer with Henry filming just around the corner. Killian had explained later, after the yes and the ring and an awful lot of kissing, that it had seemed important to make his proposal a family affair and include Henry. He loves her son, just as much as he loves her (albeit in a different way); Emma knows that, but it still means a lot that he’d included her son in their major life moment in that way. Henry had been a part of their love story, after all.

(Emma suspects that there may have been a conversation between Killian and Henry before the proposal as well where Killian had asked her son for her hand, but neither of them has ever fessed up to it, and she’s okay with leaving that as a man-to-man moment if they prefer it.)

The wedding had been a low-key affair, much to Mary Margaret’s dismay - just a little courthouse ceremony. Emma had never been the big white wedding type, though, had never had those dreams as a child. Now that she’s faced with the opportunity for all that, she finds that she doesn’t really want or need it. At the end of the day, they just want to be married; they love each other, almost to distraction, and waiting any longer than absolutely necessary feels like too great a burden.

Still, they’d done it up as much as the quick circumstances allowed. Emma had bought a clearance wedding dress that swished around her calves, and Killian had taken Henry to get a nice suit - his first, the sleeves and legs given extra length to be let out as the growth spurt from hell inevitably continued so they could get more than one use out of the damn thing. They had even arranged for a bouquet and boutonnières, even if Emma doesn’t know anything about flowers. As soon as Liam had arrived back in the city from filming in Atlanta, they had gathered all their friends and family on a dark Monday and made it official.

Henry stood as Best Man. Mary Margaret cried. Ruby wolf-whistled. And Emma had never been happier as Killian dipped her into a dramatic kiss.

“Are you happy, my love?” he’d whispered into her ear later at Granny’s. The older woman had gladly donated her diner for the reception, closing for the occasion so they could all eat cake and dance to jukebox hits.

“What do you think?” she’d quipped right back, before laughing and drawing him down into a kiss. It feels like they’ve come full circle; it feels like home.

(She may still be Emma Swan professionally, but there’s a certain thrill to hearing Mrs. Jones.)

“And one more thing…” Archie continues on the TV, drawing Emma’s attention back to the screen. If possible, televised Killian grins even wider: if what she thinks is about to happen is actually about to happen, she doesn’t blame him in the least. “… You two had a little girl.” The photo on the screen is a sweet one of her little fingers curled around Killian’s thumb. Emma knows it well; it hangs in the nursery, right next to the rocker where Emma’s lately been spending what feels like half her nights.

“We did. She just turned five months old last week.”

“And her name? If you guys are ok to announce it.”

“Hazel Elizabeth Jones.” The audience aws, which the tiny baby propped in her Papa’s arms here in their living room seems to find objectionable as she starts squirming and snuffling. “Emma and I thought it would be appropriate to pay homage to the show where we met.”

They’d had it in mind from the start, ever since they’d found out they were having a girl. There’d been a good bit of debate and waffling back and forth about the first name, but they’d always agreed on Elizabeth for the middle. Hazel hadn’t actually been on the shortlist, just something that’d they’d discussed and put aside, but then she’d arrived - six pounds four ounces, dark hair, loud cry, perfect, and it had just… fit. If there’s one thing Emma’s learned since Killian, it’s not to question a good thing.

Parenting now, 15 years after her first child, is both easier and harder. There’s an exhaustion that comes with age that’s only compounded by caring for an infant. It helps though, more than she can ever describe, to have a partner in this, not to mention a secure housing and financial situation. Killian’s a great dad - to both her children, really - and it’s a particular joy to watch him with their baby.

“You’re okay, lass, you’re okay,” he murmurs now, bouncing their daughter against his chest to attempt to calm her down. It works, thank God; Henry’s been great about all the changes in their lives and is lucky enough to sleep through almost everything, but Emma still doesn’t like taking that chance on a school night.

“Little drama queen,” Emma murmurs affectionately, tweaking a little sock-clad foot. She’d forgotten just how tiny everything about babies is somewhere in the decade and a half between Henry and Hazel, but has loved rediscovering it.

“Maybe she’ll be an actor like Papa one day,” Killian suggests, quirking a teasing eyebrow in Emma’s direction.

She snorts. “Not if Mom has any say in it.”

“What, you don’t think we need more actors in this family?” His tone conveys mock-insult, but Emma can see that twinkle in his eye that means he’s joking.

“Nah, she’s gonna be a techie. I can feel it.”

Emma can faintly hear Archie offerings his congratulations and asking about Killian’s upcoming turn as Harold Hill in a televised performance of The Music Man, but she’s not really paying attention anymore, too preoccupied with this moment with her little family. Maybe that was Killian’s devious plan all along - distract her from his talk show appearance with their very cute baby. She can’t really complain about that.

“Ah, well, I suppose I can’t argue that,” he concedes. “Not when her mother’s so brilliant at it.”

Even after all this time, a compliment from Killian can still make her blush. He knows it, too, which only makes him do it more. She loves that about him, though. Suddenly, it seems very important that she express that very fact.

“I love you, Killian.” She’s said it hundreds, thousands of times before, but it still strikes her with wonder every time, just how much she loves the man sitting next to her.

“I love you too, my Swan,” he replies, placing a careful kiss on her lips while trying not to jostle the baby.

Though Emma knew accepting that stage managing job almost five years ago now would change her life, she never imagined in a million years that she’d end up here, with a husband and baby and her son sleeping just down the hall in a life better than she ever could have fathomed.

She wouldn’t change a thing.