#i almost stopped making the gifset to stare at that forever

[hurtingbuck]

Eddie telling Buck how he feels about him by using other people.

[knowlesian]

has anyone done a gifset that’s just comparing izzy tearing up when ed chokes him/The Whole Toe thing? 

i only ask because i need to stare at izzy ‘fuck you we were NOT MUPPETS YESTERDAY oh shit, oh fuuuuuck yes it’s happening, glory hallelujah my boyfriend captain is back, i’m done being gaslit by you wholesome felt twats’ hands experiencing the realignment of his fucked up little world on an endless loop.

I MEAN. if you think about it, izzy’s from the version of black sails Certain Oblivious People thought that show was before the “they’re gay pirates, harold, deal with it or be unable to watch this show because they’re getting their gay all over the main thrust of the narrative as we speak” beat dropped. 

this means he is subtextually gay as shit for blackbeard in freaky/violent, public ways and even fucking gayer still for edward in ...also freaky/violent, but softer and more private ways and all the while textually speaking, They’re Just Good Friends forever and ever amen.

izzy is from a world where there is a rule: you work out the way you wanna fuck the guy you spend all your time with by stabbing things together. other people, each other, all phallic imagery is allowed and indeed, encouraged, so long as you use objects that evoke “soooo, this is supposed to be a dick thing, right?” but never push it beyond the realm of subtext. izzy can have loyalty and shared power, and as long as he cashes in his tokens sparingly meaningful gazes and clasping arms or patting each other on the shoulder and letting the touch linger juuuuust long enough to make it kinda gay are all on the approved list. in izzy’s world you bleed for each other, you kill and die for each other, you are the most important people in each other’s lives—as long as the text retains plausible deniability it’s Not Like That. 

maybe you can have a lil it’s not gay if it’s in a threeway (or a love triangle!) action as a treat and if somebody almost dies/is thought to be dead a hug is allowed, but your love better not even fucking think about speaking its name. 

honestly, even if izzy felt like pushing that barrier, what would he say? the sacred texts to translate what izzy feels for the man who becomes edward when they’re alone don’t even exist where he’s from. they have words for what he might want do in bed and what the world thinks of men like him, but love’s just not applicable. the songs he sings are not ones of love because not to put too fine a point on it, but: in izzy’s world, love is for men who don’t have boners you can see from space for other men. he’s swallowed all the lies the world told him about love whole and made them part of his identity.

with all that in mind, let’s look at how if you tilt your head and squint, ofmd is not just a joyful and affirming celebration of finding your community of equally if not identically bizarre fellows, but also a deeply depressing pirate love story as experienced by izzy ‘the only non-muppet around and not okay with it’ hands.

before i get into the actual meat of the two scenes, i want to stop and marvel at one specific part of the leadup and why ed decides to try and introduce the front of izzy’s neck to the back. quote time!!!!

Not some namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend. 

like, CHRIST. fucking WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE. why are they so good? i gotta take a quick structural analysis break to handle the way the writers packed like... a whole fucking essay on izzy’s deeply toxic pirate masculinity and summed up a point i will spend this whole insane post trying to express in one tidy line. i ache to be this efficient a writer.

i’m gonna break it into pieces, because they all deserve attention.

we start out with what’s edging into a gentle slur, but is ultimately defanged by being nowhere close to on par with the uglier ways a modern audience knows he could phrase that. i think it’s worth spotlighting how izzy never quite says anything on its face hateful that i can think of? he’s not supportive, that’s for fucking certain, but unless i’ve forgotten something (very possible, often true) this is the closest he comes to fulfilling the homophobic gay trope in the content of his speech and not just how he says things/his vibes. 

(though let us make no mistake here, his vibes are rock fucking hard homophobic gay. jesus christ with this one, bless his heart.)

i can’t tell if it’s a writer choice or character choice. my instinct says it’s both! anyway, either way i’m into it. could even be a subtle hint izzy’s closer to dragging the canon kicking and screaming into the dark where he feels more comfortable. 

now we move over to izzy mocking edward’s dressing gown. this team HATES ME, because it’s not enough to just have him essentially say “take off that soft fancy shit and rub some dirt on it, real men don’t cry”. oh no, not for these absolute combopack monster/lighthouses! of course they have izzy leave off dressing and just say gown. of COURSE. we understand as an audience they don’t mean gown as in dress because the visuals fill that gap for us, but by deleting one word they effectively have izzy imply edward’s a big fucking girl without needing to have him actually say it.

i mean... come on. come ON.

pining and boyfriend are also excellent choices; pining implies weakness and fading from a former glory, and boyfriend is uh... boyfriend! what it says on the tin, but it also throws in tones of infantilization by leaning on ‘boy’ instead of a more adult-associated choice like lover. 

anyway onto what i’m supposed to be doing: crying about how con is lowkey playing out a grand fucking greek tragedy in the background at literally every second he’s on-screen as izzy and i’ve gone down the rabbit hole about it. honestly they should give that man extra hazard pay, he could have hurt himself going this hard.

look at the way his face softens when edward chokes him. look at the tears in his eyes and the tremble in his hand when he reaches out, the un-fucking-bearable tenderness. the way he doesn’t fight ed’s violence, he encourages and leans into it. (because once upon a time in private, izzy was allowed to know that blackbeard could be edward; he was the only person who knew that, before stede rolled on up in his stupid fucking boat and his stupid fucking pants and unearthed ed and ruined izzy’s whole fucking life.)

speaking of:

Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard, not Edward. Edward better watch his fucking step.

the way i feel about ‘i serve blackbeard’ does not even need to be EXPLAINED. if you’re bothering to read this shit you know the face i made when that line entered my ears and lodged itself in my brain, never to leave, because you made it too. i won’t profane even this Most Unholy post with my feelings about the use of that particular verb there. it’s good. i like it. well done team, no notes and the end. nobody fucking perceive me.

more high mindedly: i love how izzy uses edward here, not ed. it reframes the “using edward is a privilege i am given by my captain” to “saying edward is a gift i can take back until you prove you’re my captain again”. as far as izzy is concerned, ed doesn’t even exist. blackbeard’s his captain and always has been and thus commands his loyalty, but edward’s in the doghouse until he thinks long and hard about what he’s done.

there’s also a beat there that i think stands as what izzy considers Having a Talk About Their Relationship.

(...well fuck. well, FUCK. izzy thought they were dating, didn’t he? he totally did. holy shit that’s perfect. they were subtextually dating and stede started actually dating ed and that’s just another level of his reality stede broke. oh my god, this little ratman. this fucking IDIOT. his life is the worst. it’s amazing and so funny and also no-jokes sad. SO GOOD.)

so i guess that means in izzy’s world, that was how you say “we might still have to work together, but you’re sleeping on the fucking couch until i sort out how i feel about your little fling”. blackbeard is his captain and he serves him; that’s business. edward is his Subtextual Boyfriend, and from izzy’s perspective edward has been really shitting the bed lately.

honestly: awww, look at him go! trying to communicate like a real boy. that’s one mangled ‘you tried’ star for izzy.

all that would be enough to make me want to fling myself into the sun, it really would. i would still be screaming about izzy and the way con makes sure izzy’s gaze always comes back to rest on ed in every scene they're in together, no matter what else is going on, for the rest of my life.

but oh wait, it GETS WORSE. because here it comes: the toe scene. buckle up, get ready for this to Go Places because i am going full galaxy brain. let’s talk about love as consumption re: izzy’s feelings about doing the Weird Vore.

there’s the unavoidable jesus shit all up in this scene’s guts so i honestly could stop here and just scream WHY? WHY, WHY DO A FUCKING COMMUNION METAPHOR WITH HIS OWN TOE STANDING IN FOR THE HOLY HOST? YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE SICK AND I LOVE IT!!! SIT AND THINK ABOUT YOUR CHOICES AND THEN NEVER EVER CHANGE, AND IF YOU FEEL LIKE IT: GO AHEAD AND GET WORSE for a couple hours instead of moving on, but i’ll get there eventually. 

aka: if you ever thought to yourself ‘i wonder if anybody’s gonna talk way too long about the constant and super amazing queering and/or subversion of christian imagery and the religion itself in this show’ i got your back there, just you hold tight. ohhhhh baby i got so! many! thoughts! on! that!

for today though, i’m gonna stick with the way izzy processes love and his relationship with ed.

the way ed gets rid of lucius, layers his armor back on piece by piece, and then sees himself reflected in an implement of violence and names himself a monster, not a lighthouse, before he goes to visit izzy is... A Lot. i want to talk more later! but it felt worth mentioning here as his gateway between the new world he thinks stede denied him and the old world he used to share with izzy. 

similarly, the way we get a shot of izzy’s bare, vulnerable feet and black loincloth thing-y before ed takes his toe makes me want to wade right into the proverbial sea!!! i hate this show.

the mix of tenderness and menace taika flips between here is just... like, i know this post is about con and izzy and i will GET THERE but because taika’s affect entirely changing here is important to izzy, i get to gush about it. he’s just so good. 

anyway, izzy. izzy, who has a mouth full of his own toe and edward all up in his grill and thanks to the Weird Vore is having a religious and a sexual experience all at once. izzy, with a love song for broken men in his heart and tears in his eyes, because in this moment he is full of nothing but awe.

the way we use ‘awesome’ now is pretty casual; it means we like something. that something is good. my lunch was awesome, your hat is awesome, we had an awesome time. good, but not necessarily noteworthy. you forget awesome things that happen to you all the time.

in the bible, when something is worthy of awe, you drop to your knees and cry and beg for mercy because the glory and power of what you have just witnessed cannot be expressed by clumsy human tongues; to be in even an echo of the presence of god is to experience the overwhelming urge to absolutely shit yourself. edward’s hand around his throat gave him hope, but this clicks everything back into place for him because the violent, ugly evidence of edward’s love for him is working its way down his gullet. hurrah! life is good again, and by good izzy means horrifying.

so yeah, izzy is chock-full of awe. edward is the face of his god and real flesh his communion; this is a motherfucking religious experience. bow down bitches, because he is worshipping.

(also, he probably came in his pants.)

the thing that really takes me to “fuck it, i’m out, i can’t anymore” place is the way the method of consumption proves the lie of izzy’s ecstasy. edward isn’t providing him any real nourishment, ed is feeding izzy himself, shoving his own toxic notions of love down his throat and making sure he chews them real good first. he’s not consuming the man he loves, he’s eating his own fucking tail.

i just wanna talk to the person who came up with this idea. maybe i’ll beat them up in the parking lot of a denny’s, maybe i’ll cry on them forever. maybe i’ll buy them a fruit basket so expensive i will have to go into debt forever. who knows! i am both a monster and a lighthouse, myself.

the tatty scrap izzy clutches close to his chest and calls his heart might only exist in metaphor, but it’s just as red as ed’s and unlike our boy, the claret being spilled by izzy’s love most fucking certainly isn’t wine. violent and transactional, nasty brutish and short; these are the words izzy learned for the feelings in his chest. it’s like jack said before buttons took his ass out with what i can only assume is the power of having the most amazing facial expressions i have ever seen: pirates don’t have friends, and they don’t fall in love. they’re just in various stages of fucking each other over and in izzy’s sad, repressed world, they don’t even get to fuck each other in the bargain.

but that’s okay: he doesn’t need that. the story izzy lived in before stede ruined his life told him time and time again: it’s not about that. 

so this is good, and this is right. with edward looming over him, subtextually fucking the shit out of him but not making it gay in a way a straight audience would be unable to ignore, the world makes sense again. he’s got the taste of his own flesh in his mouth and blood on his teeth. he’s home. 

so long to that muppet bullshit about ‘talking out our feelings’ and ‘giving each other hugs’ and ‘oh my FUCKING GOD get some therapy you leather-clad sad sack who is 1000000% going to die alone in a puddle of his own piss if he doesn’t get it together’. fuck emotional literacy right in the ear! who’s she? izzy’s proud to say he’s never met her. 

all that joy, the glimpse into a world where love is a word that could ever apply izzy was all a bad dream, and now he’s awake. this is the real world: this is as close to a love song as men like izzy can ever hope to shape with their untrained tongues. 

hey la, hey la, motherfuckers. his boyfriend’s back.

...so yeah anyway, anybody seen that gifset?

[puffberries]

FOR ALL TIME, ALWAYS | prologue.

gif is from this glorious gifset by @crispychrissy

summary: loki finds an old love amongst the tva ranks. Well, a version of her. you. and you, oh, you're a lot more fun

word count: 1.7k

a/n: lmao here i am with the beginning of a series 2 months late. hey sexy. anyway this is the set up to a variant tva!reader and loki that took me forever to write because have no idea whats going on at any given time. its very dialogue heavy, which is a new thing for me in my writing but hey! puff actually lets characters speak for once wow

CONTENT HEAVY SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON ONE

Loki never was one to turn down gifts. Prizes, offerings, he revelled in it all. Arguably, it led him down this path, the great chase of power that left him in chains. He admits to himself that he’s not skilled at holding himself back, but he doesn’t need to be. He’s a prince.

The tesseract is a glowing temptation. Landing at his feet like a side thought as everything else stirs around him, he’d laugh if he could.

Loki, prince of Asgard, had laid siege to New York, decimated its surroundings and damn near almost won- and here is where the Avengers fail. In the marble lobby of a building surrounded by the aftermath of chaos he orchestrated. They had fought valiantly, but this is where Loki is destined to make his Great Escape, leaving with the prize he was promised.

Sand. A desert. Why was he in a desert?

Fine sand tickling his lungs, he tries in vain to cough away the post-jump confusion. He willed himself away, but it was hard to determine where he was, or which planet he was on, given the sprawl of the dunes.

Quizzically, he meets the eye of a woman, standing over him with no threat, but confusion. A sense of pride and purpose fills him quickly, spilling out as he announces,

“I am Loki, of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose.”

His words do not incite the fear or worship he was going for - really, they just stand and stare with a gravitas nothingness between them. He was Loki, of Asgard, right? He looks himself over once or twice. Surely, not even the blood of fallen Chitauri soldiers had been wiped off his boots since the battle. His glorious purpose was that he was a threat, born to rule and born to be feared.

“чи хэн бэ?” The woman asked, “чи яагаад манай гэрт ирсэн юм бэ?”

Naturally, a language barrier.

“Nevermind.”

A quick humming filled the air, and Loki’s eyes snapped the tesseract, buried in the golden sand. He thought for a second that it was inviting him, but that thought disappeared with the march of soldiers.

Orange isn’t really the TVA’s colour.

You’ve spent many a day toiling away in your little god-given cubicle, pondering the colour of the paint on the walls.

It wasn’t really orange. Tangerine, maybe? A soft, ‘I just vomited after eating boiled carrots’ kind of colour? You couldn’t decide, but that was hardly an issue. You had today, and tomorrow, and possibly until the end of time to ponder the question and procrastinate your paperwork.

“Look alive, partner!” Mobius veers over you, a loud concoction of cheerfulness and too much caffeine for this early in the morning, “Desk duty got you down?”

You pull yourself from your dead-eyed stare, “Here to gloat?”

Mobius, in every utter way imaginable, loves his job. Some days, you wonder if the time-keepers moulded him, built him to be their preacher. A perfect pastor for the designs of the TVA. Most days, however, you just wonder how he’s avoided getting clocked in the face for his golden-boy disposition.

With a coy little grin, he slides a file onto your desk. Weighty, with notes sticking out from the pages and loose papers dangling free. It’s the Loki List. Pages upon pages of every Laufeyson variant to grace these hallowed halls.

“Another variant was just rolled in.”

You scoff, “If you’re asking me to trail behind another dog-Loki with little plastic baggies then-”

“I’m not,” He stops you with a stern look, “Look, that loose variant case I’ve been working? I think a Loki is just what I need to crack this. I figured if you went down there and pried him from Renslayer’s iron clutches-” You laugh, albeit mockingly, “It’ll get you into the field.”

The offer is laced with temptation. He wants you to jump at it, and you almost do but -- Renslayer holds you back. You’re already in her bad books, chained to a desk on her command. If she doesn’t agree to let you essentially hijack her case…

Desk duty would be the least of your worries.

“Why do you need me to do it? Aren’t you buddies with Renslayer already?”

He hesitates, “I’ve called in one too many favours.”

“Oh, so I’m your stand-in?”

“Exactly.”

It dawns on you that you never really think things through, as you march down the maze of hallways to Courtroom B. What if Mobius was right? That a Loki variant was the key to solving his case. That would essentially mean freeing a variant against court order to what? Intern for the TVA?

You suppose you wouldn’t mind a Loki fetching you a coffee.

“Laufeyson. Variant L1130, AKA Loki Laufeyson, is charged with sequence violation 7-20-89.”

The man of the hour sucks in a breath.

Not because he’s scared. No, Loki, this Loki, the real Loki Laufeyson doesn’t feel fear. He’d been on trial before, many times in fact. Mainly for injuring Thor, and the only real punishment was a slap on the wrist, but that's beside the point. This woman, Judge Renslayer, is not imposing. None of this is. It’s simply a trick, he decides. This… land beyond time, tales of these all-knowing Gods, the time keepers. This is a bedtime story veiled like a threat.

Renslayer peers down at him from her seat up high. Routinely, she sifts through his paperwork, making him wait. Surely, she knows she’s testing his patience; “How do you plead?”

Loki snaps out of his ‘not-fear’, looking up at Renslayer with a sly smile, ‘Madame, a god does not plead,” He starts with confidence, “Look, this has been a very enjoyable pantomime, but I’d like to go home now.”

When you arrive, slipping into a pew of the courtroom as quietly as possible, Renslayer and the variant are trapping each other in an endless pointed argument of ‘fact vs lie’. Both of them believe they’re right, neither of them will concede.

You watch on briefly with interest.

“Well, perhaps I should speak to these ‘Time-Keepers, gods to gods.”

Renslayer smiles with a shallow apology, “I’m sorry, but they’re quite busy.”

“Oh, they are?” Loki mocks, “What are they doing?”

“Dictating the proper flow of time.”

“I see, right. And then what do you do?” It wasn’t a genuine question. None of his are. It was in a Loki’s nature to poke fun at authority.

“Dictate the proper flow of time according to their dictations,” You couldn’t believe it. This Loki variant was actually getting on Renslayer’s nerves, “How do you plead?”

“Guilty… of this.”

The display that followed was quite an embarrassing one, albeit not uncommon for any magic-using variant. They desperately try to use the powers they’ve spent their lifetime cultivating in one last-ditch escape effort. It never works, and this Loki was throwing a temper tantrum like a magician who forgot to put the bunny in the hat.

You stifle a laugh, ducking your head in the pews. He looks back to find the source, but you don’t think he sees you.

Renslayer chuckles, her victory found in Loki’s upset, “Magic powers? They’re no good in the TVA, Mr Laufeyson. The court finds you guilty, and I sentence you to be reset.”

You watch as Loki is pulled to the side with a huff, and you stand, holding the files Mobius handed off to you as evidence close to your chest. You’re about to plead your case to a brick wall.

Renslayer spies you standing and nods you forward to the bench. You approach on quick feet, settling the papers on her desk.

“Agent,” She snipes, “What do you need?”

You look over at Loki, struggling against the binds of the power-heavy minute men. Something about being so close to a man pleading against death makes you actually want to help him. Weird.

“Actually, I’m here for the variant,” Before she begins to shut you down, you cut her off, “Mobius kinda… needs him for a case.”

“And he sent you?”

“He’s busy?” She scoffs, “Look, I know you don’t trust me, especially after the incident, but Mobius does, and I trust his gut.” You open the file you slid onto her desk. It does little to spark her interest, but you persevere, “Someone’s killing our minute men, Mobius has an idea who, and he needs a Loki to crack it.”

The mention of his name sparks his interest in your little conversation.

And there you are. What an exciting little twist. Not one of which he understands much, but one in which he knows he can exploit.

Runa, a friend of Sif. Albeit clad in beige and sporting an accent unlike the ones of Asgard, but you all the same. Of how you came to be in the TVA, and be friendly with the judge are questions he’ll ask later. All he knows is that you’re planning on sneaking him out of here.

“And you’re just here demanding I put you back in the field?” Renslayer accuses in a whisper.

“If Mobius asked me, then he must need me for something-”

“Or he’s a coward who can’t fight his own battles,”

“Mobius is going to be running the whole operation, we’ll have minute men with us the whole time, Loki will never leave his time-warp collar,” You place your hand over your heart, smirking up at her, “And I solemnly swear I’ll do my best not to make a mess of things.”

She sighs, pressing her fingers to her temples. Now you understand why Mobius sent you on the impossible task. You’re good at wearing people down, “Fine.” She leans forward, burrowing her eyes into your head with a glare, “But if anything goes sideways, it’s on you.”

You gulp. You were truly excited by the prospect of going on a field mission, but you’re already in hot water with all the big guys, not just Renslayer. One mistake, and yeah, you’re toast.

You look over at Loki with a knowing glance. He smiles.

Yeah, he’s a problem.

[rvchelking]

trouble

Something I wrote inspired by this gifset. Staci Pratt/Joey Hudson. Joey being the boss ass bitch, Pratt being romantic and @adelaidedrubman being the sweetest person for proofreading this. 

Joey Hudson thinks she is making a huge mistake, yet she can't help herself but fall back into the trap that was created just for her. She thinks it's a crime against humanity - against her - because she doesn't have enough will to stop herself from being involved in this… situation she got herself into.

She could also blame her conspiracy theory -that her colleagues did this on purpose, to remove her from the station. Because they think she's a liability; because they think she's going to be the reason everyone would be killed; because they are sexist jerks that hate to see the woman climbing the career ladder faster than they finish their greasy cheeseburgers.

Jokes on you , Joey thinks every time she comes to work and meets their unpleasant stares, jealous hags, you'll never get what you want if you keep sucking on your thumbs and whine about writing reports .

"Hudson!"

Joey immediately straightens up, trying to look less chaotic than she feels.

"Yes, sheriff?"

Whitehorse smiles - that kind, fatherly smile, the one Joey sees the most when she works with the sheriff - and hands Joey the folders.

"I need you to read through these reports. And I also expect that report of yours. The one you owe me from last week."

Aaahh fuck, Hudson panics for a second but quickly recovers and nods her head.

"Sure. You will have the report on your desk by the end of the day. I promise."

Hudson smiles at the sheriff and watches Whitehorse leave, suddenly feeling stressed.

It's not that she hates paperwork. It's a great exercise to be more precise and focused, but that will require visiting the archives, therefore, meeting more colleagues that eye Joey Hudson suspiciously.

Either way, she doesn't have a choice. She bites her lip and grabs the folders, ignoring the curious gaze of her coworkers.

The empty corridors of the archive make her feel slightly better, and Joey relaxes with a deep exhale, the way she was taught by her therapist. This shit helps, and Joey's forever grateful for whatever sessions she signed up, eager to work through her own traumas before working as a deputy.

However, she was not taught how to deal with her fucking feelings - actual feelings - when she saw the man who was the reason for her inner chaos standing by the bookshelf she needed, a cup of coffee in his hand while going through the files, muttering to himself the names of the people he needed to learn about it.

Joey had to put on a brave face and a hint of a smile when she approached him.

"Fancy meeting you here, Deputy Pratt," she greeted him quietly as if there were other people who could hear them.

"Ah, I was just about to stop by your desk," Staci grinned, handing Joey a cup.

Hudson takes the cup with a thankful smile on her face, but when Staci leans forward, clearly intended to kiss her, Joey panics and slips away past him awkwardly, feeling dizzy.

Dammit, no, Hudson inhales shakily and holds her breath, unable to look at Staci though she feels his stare on her, she could almost hear his smug grin.

She thinks how she would probably kiss him if they're alone. But they are alone, there's no one hanging out in the archives, yet Joey's heartbeat is so loud she thinks Pratt can hear it as well as a whole station.

She must stay professional, but when she speaks, her voice cracks.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Something we've done before," Staci replies without hesitation, though the smile is gone and he is back to his serious self, which is quite rare. "I thought you wouldn't mind."

"Not when we are here."

"Where? No one is around."

"Yes well, people could walk in on us making out," Joey rolls her eyes, feeling irritated. Sometimes she hates Staci's confidence and cockiness. He can be so disgustingly irresponsible Joey wonders how he managed to become a deputy.

"We agreed to keep it low profile," Joey reminds him quietly while taking her unfinished report. Staci follows her, shuffling behind her back. For once, he's behaving. "If anyone finds out, you'll get in trouble. I'll get in trouble."

"Pft, please, Whitehorse wouldn't even say anything. If others will, I'll take care of it. Of us."

"You and these boomers?" Hudson chuckles and looks at Staci. " Please, they'll kick you out right after me. What a walk of shame that would be."

"Well… I'm sorry," Pratt sighs and Joey knows he means the apology. "I just thought that I'd make you feel better, got you coffee, almost bought flowers, too."

"Aww," Joey coos and turns to face Staci, a smirk painting her lips. "Look at you, being a romantic."

"I am romantic."

Joey grins and mutters sure you are under her breath. She wants to spend more time with him, ask about his plans, their plans, but she looks down at the report in her hands and sighs.

"Maybe we could hang out after work?" Staci asks, full of hope. He flashes Joey his puppy eyes but Hudson just smirks.

On her way out, she leans to place a quick kiss on his cheek, hiding the answer to his question and leaves him hanging in the room, trying to calm her racing heart down.

She is in trouble.

[kuningatarmirka]

Family Bonding

So, my Vera & Margot gifset got me thinking, “If they were sisters, how could it actually work?” and then this story was born.

It’s written from Vera’s perspective, and therefore it’s mostly The Order fanfic.

(This is also on ao3 but the link naturally breaks the tags...)

Vera hurried through the administration building, almost colliding with a couple of other faculty members on her way. One of her meetings had run late again and it was already past noon. She had promised to meet Hamish outside so they could go to eat lunch together. Apparently, when he had heard about her not-so-healthy eating habits, he had made it his life mission to make sure she ate a proper meal every day.

She actually felt a little bad for making him wait. She knew that he had another class to teach soon and they would have to hurry. It was just that she had spent the previous evening dealing with the Gnostic Council and had had no time to prepare for her day job. Even after the deaths of Salvador and Alyssa, Praxis was still a threat. There were still members of that organization who were causing havoc and the council wanted them dealt with.

Vera stepped out of the building and made her way down the stairs. She already saw Hamish standing there with a scowl on his face.

“I’m sorry!” she apologized, reaching him. “My meeting took forever.”

Hamish uncrossed his arms, still frowning but Vera saw he was having a hard time staying mad at her.

“You do realize I have to teach a class in an hour?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, you texted me ten times,” Vera answered. “As the Chancellor I could not leave the meeting early and you know that.”

Hamish nodded, and this time there was a small smile playing on his lips. “Just don’t make this a habit.”

They set off in the direction of the parking lot with the intention of driving a short distance to a restaurant downtown where they’d have a better chance of not running into every student and coworker.

Vera walked beside Hamish, their hands almost touching, and after a small moment, she felt him grasp her hand in his.

Her head shot up in surprise and she turned to him with wide eyes.

Hamish squeezed her hand a little but kept walking calmly, pretending he hadn’t noticed.

Vera had to admit it felt nice – even though she still didn’t like any public displays of affection. Because their relationship wasn’t exactly the most normal one, she was a little afraid of what others might think of them. Hamish on the other hand had told her many times that he didn’t care what anyone said. She just knew that the rumors had already started. She had spent most of her life alone and was seen as the loner at the university. Vera Stone was married to her work and didn’t have time for relationships. So, when there was suddenly a young man waiting for her almost every day, people started talking.

While they walked Hamish started telling her about the knights’ earlier hunt for the Praxis members. He told her how Jack – or Silverback to be precise – had almost ripped someone’s heart out, and how Randall had almost fallen into a ditch while chasing another member. Vera let out a genuine laugh at that, receiving a chuckle from Hamish as well. Vera and Randall still didn’t get along well, so hearing about the wolf’s misfortune was amusing to her.

They were so caught up in their stories that they failed to notice a cyclist approaching them. Luckily the student was fast enough to dodge them in time but still ended up knocking Vera’s bag from her shoulder.

“Shit,” she cursed, reaching for her bag. Sadly, that was the exact moment when someone else collided with her and caused her to stumble forward. Fortunately, Hamish still had a grip on her hand and his fast werewolf instincts helped him pull her up before she fell.

She wobbled, still a little disoriented, but finally got her control back.

For a little moment at least.

“I’m so sorry!” she suddenly heard a woman’s voice apologize. A rather familiar voice at that.

Vera whirled around, her eyes widening in shock.

“Shit,” she repeated.

“Vera?” the woman asked, also in apparent shock.

“What the…” Hamish muttered, his gaze flicking between the two women. The two identical women.

“No, no, no,” Vera shook her head, taking a step back. “You can’t be here.”

“Surprise?” the woman said, cringing a little. “I need to talk to you.”

“No,” Vera shook her head even more, still clearly in shock.

“Can someone please tell me what is going on?” Hamish tried to ask. He kept staring at them both, not knowing what to think.

“She’s my sister,” Vera managed to breathe out. Her head was reeling and she was starting to feel dizzy.

“Hi, I'm Margot Verger,” her sister offered her hand to Hamish who took it reflexively, even though his mind seemed to be somewhere else. Vera couldn’t blame him.

"Hamish Duke," he introduced himself.

“Are you twins?” he then asked, puzzled.

“Oh, no! She’s older,” Margot pointed at Vera, who was standing a few feet away from them, trying to get her breathing under control. “No more twins, thank God,” she continued quietly under her breath.

That was when Vera decided she had to get away.

“Nope! I can’t do this,” she announced. “Not right now, no!”

She turned around and pretty much fled the scene as quickly as she could in her heels. She could hear Hamish call after her, but he was smart enough not to stop her.

Vera had managed to escape her past and she would do anything to make it stay that way.

---

Hamish watched Vera run away. He called her a few times but stopped when knew he couldn't make her come back. Seeing her sister had caused her to panic and escape the situation as quickly as possible. Him and Margot were left standing in the middle of the pathway, not knowing what to do or where to go after Vera’s sudden departure.

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Margot sighed, looking down at her feet.

“Oh, believe me, she does,” Hamish replied instinctively. “She just doesn’t take surprises well.”

Of course he couldn't know that for sure but after all the time he had spent with her, he had learned how to read her.

It had been necessary since Vera had always been good at hiding her emotions. The walls around her were usually strong and unyielding, and so far Jack, and Hamish himself, had been the only ones able to break through them. Although he had to admit seeing her panic that badly was concerning. A few words from her sister and she was crumbling down.

“I haven’t seen her in decades,” Margot admitted. “It makes sense that she doesn't want to talk to me. I don't know what I was thinking.”

That information surprised Hamish. Decades? He knew Vera had a lot of secrets and painful memories but not seeing her family for that long was surprising. She hadn't shared a lot with him and it seemed to suggest that there were still things in her past that she hadn't come to terms with.

He debated over his choices but in the end decided the best way to go forward would be to take Vera’s sister to her. Vera could hate him for it but at least she’d have the chance to talk to a member of her family and maybe get some closure.

“Follow me. I know where she is going,” he told Margot.

She looked hesitant, but the glimmer of hope in her eyes told Hamish that she really wanted to talk to her sister. There seemed to be some desperation there as well and Hamish hoped that whatever it was, it wouldn’t cause them any more trouble.

After all they had just managed to dodge one apocalypse and weren't in need of another.

So, he gestured to his right and started leading her towards the Temple.

(To be continued.)

[momentofmemory]

creator tag game

rules: answer the questions and then tag 10+ other creators to answer the questions!

tagged by: the most beautiful, lovely, supportive cheerleader ever @timothyolyphant 💜

first creation and most recent creation of 2020: apparently they were both about family and this was 100% unintentional? 

most recent: the old guard + family

first: spider-man + family

one of your favorite creations from 2020: allison argent + hamilton. this is one of those sets where i knew exactly which scenes i wanted blended together and then managed to execute it as-intended and it just. ugh it’s so pretty. and painful. so my two fave things.

a creation you’re really proud of: what’s up danger + sam wilson. both the concept and the execution turned out fire, man—I switched up a lot of my typography choices from my normal thing and I love how it looks.

a new style you tried this year and a gifset that uses it: this og six set. i switched up my blending technique for it, and i really love how it turned out—i’ve been finessing that technique ever since, lol. 

your favorite coloring: this scott mccall set, because any time I make TW look visible—let alone pretty—it’s a triumph, but also working on that first gif 1)took forever and 2)turned out really pretty in comparison to the OG colouring.

a creation that took you forever: black panther + pray for me. my very first attempt at Big™ gifs, and finessing the scene choices, overlay techniques, and fonts took like. hours. i love it so much and  will forever be sad it didn’t show up in the tags.

your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: sam wilson + i’m captain america. tumblr didn’t eat the post despite the blm donation link (which can still be used fyi!). <3

a creation with a favorite scene/quote: this edit of quiet uptown murders me every time. the scenes/cropping/overlays i wanted just came together really well.

a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: nile freeman + quotes. the way i adore that woman and her strength and determination and gentleness?? yes good. the colouring & typography worked together really well for this set.

a creation you made that breaks your heart: i made this set on grief in the black panther back in july and it already cut deep at the time, and now it hits... differently. nikita gill’s poetry is excellent and getting all that text to work on a set of four gifs was a fun challenge.

a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: this tfatws set was put together & posted in under like 20 min right after the trailer dropped because I was so excited. the black & white effect was a  callback to this set from the previous year. ...except that set took like ten hours lol.

a creation that was inspired by another one (add both your creation and the one that inspired it!): i don’t think i have any sets that were explicitly inspired by another set this year, but i’m almost always staring at @anya-chalotra​’s work when i need insp.

a favorite creation created by someone else: no picking one is impossible i refuse?? a few at random that are so pretty i want to yeet myself into the sun:

tony stark appearances by @timothyolyphant​ - gorgeous, amazing, phenomenal

scira + yellow by @lovingyennefer - it is my children and this is so pRETTY

jatp + wake up by @betty-coopers - the colouring and blends on this are gorgeous

tog + dæmons by @nilefreemans - excellent concept, A+ execution

the witcher + purple by @yenvengerberg - the colouring and overlays have me !!!!!

avengers overlays by @sersi - LOOK AT THE OVERLAYS. LOOK AT THEM. 10/10.

derek and scott + brothers by @alexjulies - the way i am soft and also typography??

the witcher + fave quote by @anya-chalotra - she doesn’t know how to make a bad edit and i am constantly in awe

some of your favorite content creators from the year: NO TOO MANY. everyone tagged in any sense in this post and also everyone i’ve reblogged from ever.

for good measure, another a couple more creations of yours that you love:

star wars s7 finale + ts eliot - this finale broke me and i couldn’t stop thinking about this  poem the whole time, and i love how the overlays turned out.

scott & stiles + twenty-one pilots - if you’d told me i’d be giffing teen wolf this year i’d have laughed at you. yet here i am, fully <3333 for these two.

marvel + little women - this set is peak i just think that women™ and i love it.

tagging: everyone tagged previously and also: @capsgrantrogers | @merlinemryspendragon | @jemmablossom | @clintfbarton | @hollywoods | anyone else that wants to go!

[zakkura]

Pairing: Cloud x Zack, slight Aerith x Tifa. Warnings: None. Extra: Hybrid AU. EDIT: I forgot to add that I gathered inspiration by the many beautiful gifsets of ZackSoldiers, so please go and follow them!

ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾

Aerith couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before her.

Placing her basket of flowers on the kitchen counter; she put her hands on her hips as she watched her daft overgrown German Shepard hybrid wiggle his backside as he stared out of the window with noises of glee leaving his lips.

“I take it that pretty blonde is out for his afternoon stroll again?” she asked and Zack jumped slightly as he had clearly been far too into his own world.

“I didn’t think I’d be attracted to a Spaniel,” Zack grinned widely causing his owner to simply roll her eyes with a playful smile.

Aerith approached him with her hand held out, fingers delicately stroking his fluffy black ears which, in turn, made the hybrid push into her touch.

A loving gesture that Aerith had learned meant he had missed her whilst she was out trying to sell her bouquets.

“I don’t know why you haven’t invited him over yet,” Aerith snorted at the small blush on Zack’s tanned skin, “I thought you and Cloud were friends of some sort?”

“Well...I think he thinks that I’m stupid,” he cringed inwardly as their one of two interactions flashed in his mind, “I might have pretended to know about the book I saw him reading...I um...I just spoke utter crap,” he let out a pained whimper and hid his face in her shoulder.

“Aw Zacky,” Aerith cooed and held him tight, her cheek against the top of his head, “everyone behaves like a fool in front of the person they like; it’s natural,” she pulled back and blew a playful raspberry against his cheek.

“I tell you what,” she pulled Zack over to the couch to get a little more comfy, “I will go and invite his owner, Tifa, over and say to bring Cloud with her as a sort of friendly get together,” she giggled, “what do you think about that?” she let out a yell of surprise when Zack threw himself on her and cuddled her with such strength that she was certain her ribs were about to break.

“I love you!” he howled; tail thumping on the couch.

 ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾 ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾  ᵔᴥᵔ  🐾

Aerith was tempted to film what she was seeing right now.

She had never seen Zack so nervous before; so nervous that he was pulling at the hairs on the tip of his tail.

When the Hybrid’s head shot up suddenly, she knew that he could tell Cloud was at the door and she bit back a laugh as she gestured for him to open the door.

Zack nodded, determined but jittery and pulled the door open so quickly that he was nearly punched in the face by Tifa who had her hand up in the motion to knock on the door.

“Hello!” Tifa chuckled and Zack offered the top of his head to pat, which she did and almost squealed at how soft his ears were, “you must be Zack,” Zack nodded with a small smile as Aerith held his hand to try and make him less nervous.

But that quickly fell apart when he spotted the other canine standing behind Tifa, his hands covered by the sleeves of his plain black jumper that was deliciously stretched over his chest; enough that Zack could see how in shape he was.

He quickly tried to catch his own tail as it started wagging faster, his ears twitching with interest.

“This is Cloud, but I think you might know that already,” Tifa threw a wink his way, moving over to Aerith who greeted her with a tight cuddle and a kiss to the cheek.

“Hi,” 

Zack’s heart thumped hard against his chest at the sound of Cloud’s voice.

It was a lot softer than he remembered but he gathered that was because he was most probably anxious going by how the blonde was biting into his bottom lip, skin looking sore and picked at.

“Hey!” Zack barked and moved without thinking; grabbing both of Cloud’s hands and shaking them happily whilst Cloud just stared at him with wide blue-green eyes.

“Zack, calm down,” Aerith pressed gently.

It took Zack a moment to realise how forward he was being and he jumped backwards.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” he murmured feeling silly as he flushed a deep red.

He had never ever been the type of person to blush and get nervous in front of people so everything that was currently happening was like trying to speak for the first time.

When everybody had settled, Aerith and Tifa in the kitchen and the Hybrids in the front room, Zack was starting to become more comfortable with the more Cloud started to open up to him.

He couldn’t get over how handsome the other man was, how sweet it was whenever he moved his head and his long blonde ears swayed with him, how whenever he spoke about learning to ride a motorcycle his entire face lit up and his eyes seemed to sparkle with enthusiasm.

Oh he was in trouble.

Even more so when both of their tails settled down on the couch they were sharing and just so happened to land on top of one another making both of them blush.

“I didn’t mean to do that,” Cloud laughed quietly as he peered at the older man through his bangs, he went to tuck his tail back around the other side of him but was quickly stopped by Zack grabbing his wrist gently.

“I’m fine with it,” he nodded to reassure him, “if you are, I mean...” he let out a small whimper as he struggled to form sentences together without stuttering.

“I’m fine,” Cloud responded with a brilliant smile that nearly knocked Zack sideways, “your tail is so soft and poofy,” he giggled and paused as he wited for Zack to signal it was okay for him to touch his tail.

It was quickly granted and Cloud practically dived to touch it making shivers ripple up and down Zack’s spine.

“This is a little easier to talk about, huh?” the teasing tone confused Zack for a second as his brain wasn’t working correctly under the touch of the person of his affections, “tails are easier to talk about than,” Cloud paused and met Zack’s similarly coloured eyes, “books for example,”

“Are you implying something?” Zack quizzed playfully once his head cleared, though he was now hypnotised by the way Cloud’s slender fingers sifted through the soft black hairs of his tail.

“Oh not at all,” Cloud then lifted his own tail and gestured for Zack to touch.

Hybrids did often offer their tails to people they would like to be friends or partners with, usually only other Hybrids but on the rare chance, Humans have been blessed with the offering.

Zack couldn’t help but wag his own tail as he gently slipped Cloud’s through his thicker fingers, watching as the blonde fur brushed over his tanned skin.

“Your fur is so long on your tail, doesn’t it get annoying?” he asked innocently.

“No, I think of my tail as my own personal flag,” he wiggled his tail to show his point, “do you like it?” his voice was a lot shyer than before and Zack’s heart clenched tightly as he moved closer to the blonde.

“Yes,” he whispered with a pause in his movements; debating on whether or not he should go through the one thing he really wanted to do, “I like it a lot,” he then nuzzled his head against Cloud’s.

The noise that left Cloud’s lips was something Zack was storing in his memory forever.

A mixture of a whine and gasp at the sudden affection.

Both Hybrid’s ears moved t the sound of laughter from the kitchen but their eyes never left one another, the atmosphere changing into something much more intimate.

“I watched you the other day,” Cloud whispered, swallowing loudly making Zack’s eyes follow his Adam's apple before returning back to his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Cloud blushed darkly as he nodded.

“You were working fixing the window frame on the outside of the house?”

Zack nodded watching Cloud’s lashes brush against his skin.

“Tifa wanted me to go over and offer to hold the ladder for you,” he laughed as his hand found it’s way to Zack’s ear making the German Shepard sigh and push into his touch as Cloud’s thumb gently rubbed the bottom of his ear.

“Why didn’t you?”

Cloud looked down again as his own ears moved to the back of his head.

“I had a better view from my window,” he admitted and Zack nearly groaned at the way their eyes met with heat behind them.

“Did you now?”

Cloud nodded with a whine before taking Zack by surprise and pulling him into a kiss, his smaller hands now tangled in Zack’s hair, his lips parting in relief when Zack actually responded to the kiss.

The blonde was shaking so much because of his own actions and Zack couldn’t find it anything but endearing as he helped the Spaniel onto his lap.

Cloud tasted of coffee and mints and Zack was living for it, fingers grasping Cloud’s waist tightly but not enough to hurt him.

Zack smiled when he felt the soft material of Cloud’s jumper on his cheeks, gentle fingers stroking him before they moved away from each other.

There was no need to exchange any words as both of them moved their faces into the other’s neck, scenting to show their dedication to each other.

“Well, well, well,”

Cloud shrieked as he was nearly thrown off off Zack’s lap from how quickly he stood up in shock at the sound of Aerith’s voice.

“Told you it wouldn’t take long for them,” Tifa nudged her friend with a grin making the flower girl laugh.

“What?” Zack asked with a frown but apparently the two women didn’t even hear him.

“I’m just glad they were only scenting and not mating,” Aerith replied making even more glorious laughter to come from them as they walked away from the baffled and disheveled Hybrid’s.

“Did they set us up on a play-date?!” 

[fraudulentzodiacs]

never let me down, just lead me home

I’m supposed to be working on my RNM Week fics, but this wouldn’t leave me alone. Inspired by this amazing Bellarke gifset. I hope it’s okay I borrowed this beautiful poem! Set during S2, with Alex disappearing and his return becoming Michael’s sole focus in life. 

For @partsofthesamecosmicbeing and @bisexualalienblast, for just being them. 

Clotho declares “He is gone”

And he breaks

Alex is gone for two days before anyone notices.

Kyle bursts into the makeshift lab he and Liz have set up in Max’s house, both desperately working to find a way to revive a now pod-bound Max.

“Kyle?” Liz asks in a worried tone, and it’s only then that Michael looks up from the latest test results to see the wild, scared look in the man’s eyes.

“Alex is gone.”

“What do you mean, ‘gone’?” Michael feels his entire body tense at Liz’s question, the worry quickly escalating to panic clear.

“I mean, I hadn’t heard from him in a few days, so I drove out to the cabin to check on him, and he’s not there.”

“It’s not too out of the ordinary for Alex to take off. Not lately, anyway.” Liz replies, and Michael doesn’t need her to look at him to know that he’s the reason why Alex has taken to disappearing. They haven’t been on the best of terms since he began dating Maria - in fact, they hadn’t said more than a handful of words since their last showdown at Michael’s trailer the day Max died. Since then, Alex had distanced himself from their group, which Michael understood despite having to live with the hurt and guilt in his girlfriend’s eyes when Alex flatly refused to speak to her at all.

“No, it’s not.” Kyle agrees. “But when I got to the cabin, the door was busted open, and it looked like there had been a fight. One that Alex apparently lost.”

“Jesse?” Michael pushes away from the table, sidestepping Liz.

“No, he’s still in the coma. This is something else.”

“Aliens?” Liz asks, and Kyle’s shrug sends a jolt of irritation down Michael’s spine.

“It didn’t look like it. Looked human, and it could have been any of Jesse’s Project Shepherd cronies.”

“Flint.” Michael states, and Kyle nods.

“Probably. We haven’t heard anything about him since Caulfield, but Alex was digging around in the hard drives we were able to steal. He told me a few days ago that he was trying to track Flint’s movements, see if he could find another blacksite.”

“Show me everything you have.” Michael uses his telekinesis to pull his jacket from across the room, gesturing to the door.

“I don’t need your help, Guerin.” Kyle argues. “I can find him myself, I just wanted Liz to know.”

“It’s Alex.” Michael replies, his voice like steel. “You’re getting my help whether you like it or not.”

“Wish you had been this concerned for Alex while you were busy breaking his heart and sleeping with his best friend.” Kyle throws back, and Liz slips between them before he can escalate the fight.

“That’s enough.” Liz warns. “We all care about Alex, and we are all going to work together to find him. Okay?”

“Yeah.” Michael deflates. “I’ll meet you outside, just give me a minute to call Isobel.” Liz nods, guiding Kyle out of the lab as the man shoots daggers in Michael’s direction.

Once they’re out of the room, a shaky breath escapes Michael as he leans against the wall, the chaos in his head even worse than usual as he thought of Alex missing - Alex gone - with no clue as to where he was or what was happening to him. It was Alex’s deployments all over again, only this time worse, because Michael could do something about it this time, but he had no idea where to start. Tears burned in his eyes as he struggled to control his breathing, and he could feel Isobel on the edges of his mind as his panic increased, probing and searching and Michael is sure that all she can get from him is Alexalexalexalexalexalexalex. He takes a few more deep breaths before hitting the call button on his cell, Isobel picking up almost immediately.

“Alex is missing. Meet us at the Crashdown.” He manages to get out.

“I’ll be there in ten.” Isobel replies. “Are you okay?”

“I have to be.” Is all Michael replies before hanging up. He can’t afford to break right now.

Alex is depending on him.

Lachesis pronounces “You will never have him again”

And he crumbles

Michael spends the next five days in the Project Shepherd bunker. The place makes him physically ill, but it’s the best place to be as they search for Alex. Kyle is there outside of any shift he can’t get out of. Liz alternates between the bunker and their lab - Michael loves Max, but he can’t spare any time while Max is relatively safe in the pod and Alex is gone. Maria and Rosa make sure everyone is properly taken care of and that Michael survives on more than energy drinks, acetone, and pure stubbornness. Maria doesn’t question Michael’s determination, but he can’t miss the faraway sad look in her eyes when she thinks he isn’t looking. He can’t worry about that now, though, because he has to bring Alex home. Everything else can wait.

Isobel is a steady presence, seeming to understand instinctively when to be there to support him and when to leave him to his work. It’s the most together she’s been since Max died, and Michael thinks that it has more to do with Isobel feeling needed when it comes to Michael than a desire to find Alex.

Michael loses all sense of time in the bunker, only marking the passing of the days by his visitors changing their clothes. Isobel arrives with coffee and bagels, and manages to pull Michael away from the computers and into a chair at the table long enough for him to give her a decent conversation.

“Have you made any progress?” She asks as she spreads her bagel with cream cheese, watching him closely to make sure he eats his own.

“No. Maybe. It’s hard to tell.” Michael admits, running his hand through his hair. “It feels like we’re always three steps behind them. I think I found the site they were holding him at initially, but the site went dark before we could even think about getting out there.”

“Why do you think they’re holding him? I mean, they haven’t made any demands or anything. What do they want?”

“To keep him quiet. He knows about everything, but he’s against his father and that makes him dangerous.”

“But, Michael, if they want to keep him quiet…” Isobel begins, but Michael gives a cold glare before she can finish.

“Don’t.” He replies, begs, his voice harsh and sharp.

“I know you want to bring him back, Michael, but maybe you can’t track him because there’s nothing to track.”

“That’s not true. He’s alive, Iz. I know it.”

“Michael…” Michael feels Isobel move her chair closer to his, can feel her on the edges of his mind.

“He has to be alive.” Michael hears the sob in his voice before he feels it escape. “I would feel it, I would know.”

He hasn’t cried, not once, since this whole thing began. He had refused, because - after Max, and now Alex - he’s afraid that if he starts he’ll never stop. Isobel pulls him into her arms and he cries into her neck, her familiar perfume the only thing he can sense with any clarity.

“I can’t, Iz.” Michael sobs, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably despite Isobel’s attempts to calm him. “I can’t, not now. After Max, I…”

“I know, Michael, I know.” Michael can register the wobbly, wet tone in Isobel’s voice, which just makes him cry harder against her.

He slowly calms in his sister’s arms, though she doesn’t let go of him until his breathing is even and steady once again.

“I have to find him.” He finally says, and Isobel nods.

“And we will. We just have to find Flint first, right?”

“But he’s always ahead of us, always gone…” Michael drifts off, his gaze returning to the computer monitors. “We need someone who knows Flint’s mind, who knows his orders…”

“Michael…” Isobel’s voice is wary. “You can’t…”

“Call Valenti, tell him to wake up Manes.”

Atropos taunts “He is lost to you forever”

And he falls

It takes Kyle a full day to get Jesse stable enough to sneak him out of the hospital and into the bunker. Alex has been gone for over a week, and Michael feels like he’s going to crawl out of his own skin as he waits. He knows that Jesse is their best chance at tracking Flint - at finding Alex - but the thought of bringing the person he hates most in the world out of the coma that’s kept them all safe makes him want to be sick. But, he reminds himself, they’re not all safe, not until Alex is home. Not until Michael can have him in front of him and know that he’s not suffering and dying for trying to protect Michael and his siblings from his own family.

They set Jesse up in one of the small interrogation rooms in the bunker, shackled to an uncomfortable metal chair by his hands and feet despite the fact that Jesse is too weak from months of being bedridden to be any kind of real threat. It’s just him and Valenti in the room with him, Isobel, Maria, Liz, and Rosa waiting in the main room of the bunker.

“Where would Flint take Alex?” Kyle asks evenly, staring hard at Jesse Manes.

“I have no idea.” Jesse replies, his voice lacking any kind of emotion as he stares at the man he shot not six months earlier.

“Wrong answer.” Michael informs him.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been in a coma. How would I know?”

“Because Flint is a good little soldier who always follows Daddy’s orders.” Kyle snaps back. “He wouldn’t do anything as stupid as kidnapping Alex without knowing it’s what you would want. We know he has him, now tell us the locations of the blacksites or how to contact Flint.”

“Why, exactly, would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, I’ll let Isobel in here and have her turn your brain into pudding.” Michael points out, and Jesse scoffs.

“You wouldn’t. You do that, and you’ll never find my degenerate son.”

“You help us get Alex back, and I’ll think about not putting you back under. How about that?” Kyle offers, and Michael can see every muscle in his body tense.

“If Flint has taken Alex, he is gone.” Jesse turns to look at Michael, disgust clear on his features. “He is lost, forever, and good riddance. You’ll never see him again.”

Kyle yells out at him to stop as Michael stands so quickly the chair he was sitting in flies across the room. The chains holding Jesse snap as Michael uses the full force of his powers to pull him away from the chair, pinning him against the wall, his healed hand wrapping itself around Jesse’s neck.

“Tell me where he is, and I won’t snap your neck here and now.” Michael growls, using both his hand and his power to tighten his grip.

“That’s it, prove me right.” Jesse wheezes, his eyes cold as he stares at Michael. “Prove that you’re the monster you’ve always been. Kill me. You and my son deserve each other.”

“You’re the monster, not me, and not Alex. Alex is good and kind and all we ever did was love each other. But you couldn’t stand that, could you? Couldn’t stand that he wasn’t just like you. That he was better. He’s better than all of us, he could never kill you. But I could.” 

“Michael!” Maria calls, and Michael pulls away from Jesse, turns to see that the girls have entered the room. He lets his telekinetic hold on Jesse go, the older man slumping to the floor. He turns back to Jesse, coughing as gasping as he stares up at Michael with pure hatred. He crouches down, gesturing over his shoulder at Isobel.

“You don’t want to tell us where Alex is? Maybe you’ll tell Isobel.”

Michael stands and moves to where Isobel is, watching him with wary eyes.

“Do whatever you have to do.” He instructs her before slipping out of the room.

They decree “This time you cannot save him”

And he defies them all

Michael leaves Isobel to deal with Jesse, his breathing heavy as he stumbles out of the room, out of the bunker, and into his truck. It’s the first time he’s left the bunker in days, and he’s not sure where he’s going until he’s driven out of town and is pulling up to Alex’s cabin. It looks just like it always has, Liz, Maria, and Rosa having come over and cleaned it up to give them something to do while they searched for Alex. He uses his power to unlock the front door, the house quiet and still, everything in its place. He wanders through slowly, taking in the small pieces of Alex that he finds. It’s tidy, orderly in a way that Michael has to assume comes from years of living with Jesse Manes and then serving in the military. When he enters the bedroom, however, his eyes go straight to the leather jacket resting on the back of a chair, the jacket he’d been wearing when Michael had finally pushed him away, looked away from him and at something easier, less painful.

He cares about Maria - loves her, even. She is everything that is bright and hopeful and new on this godforsaken planet. She makes him feel lighter. He ran his hand over the jacket, feeling the soft material on his fingers, pictures gripping it in his hands while Alex wore it. Pictures it lying across the counter in his trailer, thrown aside haphazardly as Michael surrounds himself in everything Alex the way he had always wanted to whenever he was near. If he hadn’t been so out of his mind that day, if he had fought one more time for them, maybe Alex would still be here. Maybe he could have protected him.

“I thought I’d find you here.” A familiar voice calls out, and Michael turns swiftly to find Maria leaning against the doorway.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, and Maria shrugs.

“I wanted to make sure you were okay. I figured this was where you were headed.”

“Has Isobel…”

“No, not yet. Apparently, he’s fighting her pretty hard despite the fact that he just got out of the coma.”

“Okay.” Michael murmurs, turning his gaze back to the jacket.

“I don’t know how I ever missed it.”

“Missed what?” Michael asks, and he hears Maria sigh. When he looks at her again, tears are bright in her eyes.

“You love him.”

“You knew that.” Michael points out.

“Yeah, but I thought that it was over. But it isn’t, is it? It never has been. It’ll never really be over between you two.”

“Maria…” Michael begins, and Maria interrupts him with a raised hand.

“I’m not going to say it’s okay, because you used me, and Alex was my best friend. We both made a mistake. But, that’s not a conversation we need to have today You have to know, though, that it’s over between us.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael tries, collapsing onto Alex’s bed, his head in his hands. He feels the mattress sink next to him as Maria sits.

“I know.” She replies. “I’m worried about you though. What if this doesn’t work? What if you can’t save him?”

“I will, I have to.”

“Michael, what if he’s already gone?”

“Have you been talking to Isobel?” Michael snaps, his tone harsh.

“She has a point, Michael.”

“No, she doesn’t, because Alex isn’t dead. He’s not, you’re all wrong, and I’m going to save him. I’m going to fix this.”

So the shears break against his thread

And he vows, “Watch me do it anyway”

Alex has lost track of the days.

He knows that he’s been moved several times, presumably from one blacksite to another. But they stagger his meals, keep him in darkness, making it impossible for him to know where he is or how long he’s been there. It feels like it’s been months, though he knows that it hasn’t. They’ve taken his prosthetic, making it impossible to do little more than hobble from one end of his cell to the other. Flint shows up every now and then - usually when he’s about to be moved. He doesn’t say anything beyond ordering him around, and Alex stopped asking questions when he realized that he wouldn’t be getting any answers. The fact that he’s alive, however, has convinced him that they need him for something. He assumes that he’s meant to be bait for Michael and Isobel, a way to get the aliens they’re hunting to expose themselves. Alex prays to a god he doesn’t believe in that Michael doesn’t take the bait, but he knows Michael well enough to know that will never happen. Michael will come for him. Alex knows that in his bones. It’s what keeps him going, because Michael has always been what keeps him going. Despite the pain, and the bullshit, and the military, and Maria, Alex’s faith in Michael is something that never wavers.

He sleeps in fits and spurts, uncomfortable on the metal bed and thin mattress he’s been provided. They never question him, never torture him, and the endless silence has him crawling the walls. He can fight an enemy, an interrogator, but he can’t fight loneliness. He’s been trained to withstand all sorts of interrogation techniques, forms of torture, but this is difficult, the waiting. Perhaps that’s the point, he thinks. Their ultimate goal will be to drive Alex crazy in solitary. Then, Flint doesn’t get his hands dirty with his own brother’s blood. He doesn’t see his father, which gives him some measure of comfort. It means he’s most likely still in the coma that Kyle put him in, locked away in his own body and unable to hurt any of them. But Flint is still obviously following his orders, including holding the son he hates prisoner.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by a distant crash, the sound of bullets. He pulls himself up and leans against the wall, his ears straining for any other sounds. It gets closer, then there’s silence until the door to his cell begins to shake. The wall groans until the door flies off the hinges, revealing Michael, his hand in mid-air. Alex feels a shaky breath escape him with a short laugh.

“About time you got here.”

“Alex.” Michael’s voice is rough and heavy with emotion as he rushes in. He pulls Alex into his arms, his face in Alex’s neck as Alex’s arms go around him instinctively, gripping his waist tightly.

“I’m here.” Alex soothes, rubbing his hands up Michael’s back. “I’m okay.” He feels Michael drag his face up his neck, then his jaw before burying his nose in Alex’s hair.

“I love you.” He whispers harshly, and Alex grips Michael tighter.

“I know.” He replies as he pulls Michael against him.

“As heartwarming as this is, we really need to get out of here.” Isobel’s voice calls from the doorway.

“They have my prosthetic.”

“On it!” Liz replies, slipping past Isobel with his prosthetic above her head like a trophy.

“I’ve got it.” Michael responds, taking his leg as Liz helps him onto the bed. He attaches it with a familiarity that makes Alex’s heart stutter in his chest. It feels strange to be wearing it again after days without it, but he and Michael follow Isobel and Liz out of the cell and through the winding hallways of whatever underground facility they’re in. Kyle and Rosa are waiting in what looks to be the main entrance, both guarding an unconscious Flint.

“What do we do with him?” Rosa asks, and Michael looks to him.

“Leave him.” Alex decides.

“He kidnapped you!” Michael argues. 

“And he’ll pay for that, but not today.”

“Let’s get out of here before more of their friends show up.” Kyle orders, and soon enough Alex is seeing daylight for the first time in however long. Maria is waiting behind the wheel of his Humvee, looking almost unrecognizable in her stolen Air Force uniform.

“How…?” Alex asks as they move to the vehicle.

“Isobel may have visited your father, forced him to admit some truths.” Michael replies, helping Alex into the backseat before Maria peels away from the blacksite. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

“I knew you’d come for me.” Alex leans into Michael, exhaustion overtaking him.

“Always.” is the last thing he hears from Michael before he passes out.

For the fates could never touch a love like theirs

[justlightlysedated]

01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 ||

*

day seventeen: handfasting

*

inspired by this gorgeous gifset for @vlamito 😊💖

*

Maria didn’t know exactly what to expect when she and Jenna had gone to Alex’s cabin in the middle of the night and asked him to marry them.

Jenna had asked Maria to marry her, and Maria had told her that she didn’t want to wait any longer. Their lives were so unpredictable, so dangerous, that Maria didn’t want to waste another second not being married when it was something that they both wanted.

After making sure that they were sure about this and that it was something they both wanted, Alex had made some phone calls, and even though it was nearing three in the morning, Isobel had gotten to the cabin not even half an hour after Alex had called her.

She had brought a bunch of party decorations left over from previous events and several dresses in their dry cleaning bags.

Liz had appeared next with Max and her dad and a trunk full of food and a bag full of shoes. Rosa had driven in with Kyle carrying a makeup bag.

While Liz had locked herself in the bathroom with Jenna to help her get ready, Maria and Rosa had taken over Alex’s bedroom.

“You’re so quiet,” Rosa says after a few minutes pass without Maria saying anything as Rosa starts to pin her hair up into an elegant bun.

Maria just exhales softly and looks at Rosa’s reflection in the mirror. “I’m just thinking.”

“Getting cold feet already?” Rosa says, leaning in close and giving her a conspiratorial smirk. “We can totally sneak out through the window.”

Maria just smiles and shakes her head. “No, just wondering how my life got to this point. I swear a year ago I was convinced that I was going to spend the rest of my life alone, and now-”

“You’re getting married, in the middle of the night, in your best friend’s backyard, because you can’t wait a few more days to plan it out properly,” Rosa says in a mocking tone as she goes back to fixing Maria’s hair.

“We could all be dead tomorrow,” Maria points out, and Rosa nods her head in agreement. “And what is the point of having a friend who can marry you if you’re not going to take advantage of it?”

Rosa just shakes her head and smiles at her. “C’est la vie, and all that.”

Maria just smiles back at her and wonders how Jenna is fairing with Liz.

By the time she makes it outside, it’s been two hours since she and Jenna knocked on Alex’s door, and the only person who still hasn’t appeared is Michael.

Maria frowns at that momentarily, but then Rosa leads her towards the back and she forgets all about it.

Isobel had put everyone else to work, and the result was something that made Maria feel like she was stepping into a fairy tale.

The space was lit with fairy lights strung in arches between the trees and the roof of the balcony, candles on the floor carving a path in the center of the space towards two big trees with an archway between covered in white flowers and garlands and silver mesh bows and more fairy lights,  hanging down like icicles. There was a table with a book and a braided cord right on top of it.

Maria takes a step closer, and she can just make out everyone else setting up small tables with food and more candles. She's about to step off the porch when someone clears their throat and she turns around and has to raise her hand to her mouth to stop herself from gasping too loud.

"Mom?" She says, and her mom steps away from where Michael had been leading her up the steps with a hand on her back and she walks towards Maria, holding her hands up.

Maria lets her hands fall as her mom cups her face, and just stares at her with so much love and so much happiness shining out of her eyes that it makes Maria want to cry.

"It's a good thing I used waterproof mascara," she hears Rosa tell Michael.

"I am so happy that you're here," Maria tells her mom.

Her mom just smiles and says. "I wouldn't have missed this for anything."

Maria laughs, and it comes out like a sob, and she pushes forward and wraps her mom up in a hug.

She looks over her shoulder where Rosa and Michael are watching them, and she mouths, Thank you.

Michael just tips his hat at her and then offers Rosa his arm and she hooks her hand into the crook of his elbow, rolling her eyes a little, and lets him lead her over to where everyone is gathering.

Maria pulls back and her mom raises her hands again to cup her face.

Maria inhales deeply, “Will you walk me down the aisle?”

Her mom just smiles and pats her cheeks, “Of course.”

Maria exhales carefully, and then turns back towards the altar they set up, and her breath catches in her chest.

Jenna is standing right underneath the arch, smiling brightly as she stares at back at her.

She almost looks like an angel standing there in a off the shoulder long white dress with lace trimming. Her hair is falling to her shoulders in waves and looks silver white in the light. Her bangs pinned back by a silver diadem shaped like vines, matching the silver flower hair combs that are holding Maria’s bun in place.

She hears someone strumming a guitar, and then Isobel is standing in front of her, smiling bright and proud, holding a bouquet of white roses in her hands.

She hands them over to Maria, and Maria opens her mouth to thank her, but Isobel waves her hand in the air.

“Just know that you owe me and I will come to collect.”

Maria’s smile just gets bigger and she reaches forward and hugs Isobel tightly.

Isobel pats her back and then lets her go.

Isobel moves back to where Max, Liz and Arturo are standing right next to Rosa who has designated herself as the maid of honor and is standing right by Jenna and Alex. Kyle is standing on Jenna’s side and he’s holding his phone out, either recording or he has Charlie on the line watching everything. 

Maria takes a deep breath and turns to her mom. Her mom comes up right next to her, and hooks their arms together. 

“You ready?” she asks her.

Maria exhales all at once and turns back towards where Jenna is waiting. “I love her,” she says in a breathless voice.

Her mom squeezes their arms together and then nods her head and the sounds of the guitar playing the wedding march fills the air.

Maria and her mom step forward as one.

Maria feels her heart racing in her chest, but the closer that she gets to Jenna, the calmer that she begins to feel.

Jenna’s smile is so happy, and there are tears in her eyes, and when Maria and her mom stop in front of her, Maria can tell that she’s itching to reach out for her.

Maria turns to her mom again, who just presses a kiss to her cheek and then lets her go, pushing her towards Jenna with a smile as she moves to Rosa’s side.

Maria reaches for Jenna, and Jenna immediately links their fingers together, pulling her in close as she looks her up and down and then bites down on her lip to keep her smile from spreading too much.

Maria squeezes their hands together feeling like she’s bursting with happiness.

The guitar stops playing, and Alex clears his throat a little, and both Jenna and Maria turn to him.

He smiles at them both and then grabs the braided cord from the table.

He steps towards them, and Maria lets go of Jenna’s hand, so that they can clasp left hands.

Alex moves closer, and wraps the cord around their joined hands, and as he starts to knot it he begins to speak.

“As this knot is tied, so are your lives now bound,” he says and Maria turns to Jenna, who turns to look at her at the same time. “Woven into this cord, imbued into its very fibers, are all the hopes of your friends and family, and of yourselves, for your new life together.”

He puts his hand on top of theirs as he finishes tying the knot, “With the fashioning of this knot do I tie all the desires, dreams, love, and happiness wished here in this place to your lives for as long as your love shall last.”

“May this cord draw your hands together in love, never to be used in anger. May the vows you have spoken never grow bitter in your mouths. May it be granted that what is done before the gods be not undone by man. Two entwined in love, bound by commitment and fear, sadness and joy, by hardship and victory, anger and reconciliation, all of which brings strength to this union. Hold tight to one another through both good times and bad, and watch as your strength grows.”

He takes a step back then, letting go of their hands and continues, “If you have any vows, they should be said now.”

Jenna squeezes her hand and starts to speak. “Maria Angela DeLuca, there is no one else I would rather spend the rest of my life with, and no matter what happens, I need you to know that I will always be right there to face it with you. Your problems will be my problems and your joy will be my joy, and I promise to love you now and forever.”

Maria blinks back the tears and laughs a little when Jenna raises her hand to wipe at the tear that manages to fall down her cheek.

“God, Jenna, I never expected you to come into my life and shake everything up, but you are one of the most important people in my life, and I can’t imagine my life with having you in it. I love you, and I will love you for the rest of my life, and I promise to always be here for whatever you need, and to stand by your side through all of the good and especially all of the bad, in sickness and in health as long as we both shall live.”

Jenna’s smile could outshine the sun, and she tugs Maria in closer with their joined hands, and Maria wraps an arm around her waist as Jenna drops her forehead against Maria’s.

“By the power vested in me by the state of New Mexico,” Alex speaks up, reminding Maria that they were still in the middle of the ceremony. “I now pronounce you, wife and wife. You may kiss the bride, now.”

Maria and Jenna lean in at the same time and as their lips meet in a soft kiss, more like their smiles pressing together than actual kiss, Maria thinks that no matter what happens next, she’ll be able to handle it with Jenna at her side.

[ldelreyna]

CHAPTER II

“Eyes at the heights of my baby Let's hope at the fight of my baby The lights were as bright as my baby But your love was unmoved ...”

- As It Was, Hozier

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That night, after Sansa's announcement to the Night’s Watch, she dined with Jon on his camera. There was much to be talked about, but none of them could utter a word. She, on the other hand, couldn’t understand why he hadn’t reacted positively at once to the possibility of returning home. But Jon was afraid. Afraid of all the implications it might bring to the North – and to Sansa. Many nobles in the Six Kingdoms, followers of Daenerys, hated him and he didn’t blame them.

What the fuck! He really wanted to go home ...

"One hour you'll have to say something." Sansa fired the words as she set her plate aside after being satisfied with her soup.

Jon shook his head, eyes distant and thoughtful as he always was.

"To be honest, I'm scared. I am afraid this will bring political trouble for you and for our home."

"I've talked to Bran, he agrees, you have to go home!" She exclaimed showing anger at her words and it startled him at little.

"Why do you want me to come back? You seem fine on your own." There was no malice in Jon's words, he really admired the work Sansa was doing.

Arya was right, she really was the smartest person he ever met.

"We are a family. Me, you, Arya and Bran. And more than that, we spent a lot of time being the only support and comfort of the other. You and me."

Jon was silent, this time letting Sansa finish what she had to say:

"I need you, Jon. Our home needs you. The North needs you."

He took a deep breath, thoughtful. Jon pondered too much and that was something that bothered Sansa, almost ever. He put his hand over hers and squeezed in comfort, smiling for a moment and then stood up from the table and walked around the room as a thousand things went through his head.

Sansa left his chambers. It was the best, if she had stayed, they would engage in a fight and she needed him to have more reasons to go home and not stay away from her.

“You seem troubled, my Queen…”

Sansa sighed and turn her head to the sound of Brienne’s voice.

“I am not your Queen, Brienne, I am your friend.”

“I consider myself half north, half south.”

“And I consider myself full north but something feels empty inside of me.”

Sansa was sewing a cloak for Jon. She had brought several of them – made it by herself – to him but that one needed its final adjustments.

“Is it something about Jon? About him going back home?”

The needle at her hands was heavier than ever. She should have yelled with him earlier that night. Things was stocked inside of her, millions questions.

“He didn’t react quite as I was expecting…”

“If he’s happy here…”

“He’s not. And that’s the problem. Neither I am.” Sansa replied not allowing Brienne to finish her sentence.

“Why do you want him to go back home so much?”

That was a golden question. And Sansa didn’t have that answer in her hands. Why? Things changed, Arya found her calling and so has Bran. She was Queen and Jon was back to where he was before. She tried to think the place he belonged but those words were fucking wrong for her to swallow.

At the other day, Sansa and Jon went Beyond the Wall. It was a place she had never put her feet so she was a little bit curious about and asked Jon if he could take her for a short view and he was happy to do it.

"The cold gave in a lot, but there is still a lot to recover after the Long Night. Many plants are unfruitful, reclusive animals ... "

"How the free folk are feeding themselves?"

"They are exploring lands closer to the Wall. Further west was also not so affected, for some reason the cold wasn’t so strong there. "

"If they want and if you find it appropriate, we can allow them to hunt in the North. At least until all this situation is restored."

Jon stopped his horse for a second and stared at Sansa with a discreet smile on his face. "That's very generous of you, Sansa."

"Many of them gave their lives for us. And they had more losses than us. And if there’s one thing I learned from all this is that we should take care of everyone around us because we are interdependent. "

"And how it was your post war?" He asked.

“How it was your post war? Your post all the shits it came out from your life…”

Jon laughed but the smile couldn’t reach his eyes.

“Besides everything?” It was rhetorical question Jon did trying to joke with the subject.

“What you mean by everything?”

He could visibly see that something had bothered her in his words.

“I don’t know, Sansa. I preferred not to think about. There’s not much I can do so the best for me is not to really think…”

That was so Jon, scared of facing feelings and his psychological shit.

“You can’t run forever, Jon. Someday all of the implications of this you came to you, you know it will.”

“It changed something for you, my true parenthood?”

“It does.” She was fast in her answer. “But not my love to you. You know it won’t.”

“That hasn’t changed for me either.”

“Good.” She said receiving a squeeze at her shoulders from him.

They rode through lands far beyond North. Jon showed Sansa how the forest and the woods changed drastically just by crossing the Wall. Some rivers were thawing, and fish could already be seen in abundance. Jon taught her how to fish only with a stick and they laughed when she already managed to catch a big one on her first try.

They decided to visit Tormund, taking all the food they had hunted in the lake. Of course, the redhead big man made a party when he saw Jon and the young Queen, especially after Sansa communicated her decision to him.

"If your people are finding it difficult here, we have fertile lands and we need people to look after them in the North." She paused, both walking together both walking together through the village of his clan, to the tent where she would sleep with Jon so that both could ride back to the Wall tomorrow morning. "Even if the desire in your heart is to stay here, spread the word. We are friendly lands now and the Wall is just a symbol that from there you have your own leadership. "

“It’s very kind of you, Your Grace. I’ll let my people know.”

Sansa sighed when they both was already at the tent where Jon was tidying blankets so that the cold couldn’t bother them at night, which already gave indications that it would be very cold.

“Is not much but it’s the best we have.” Tormund said, now speaking about the place she was going to sleep.

Sansa smiled not really caring about the lack of luxury of the place. Those people were happy, always smiling and everything was such a big celebration for them that she was loved being around the free folk.

“It’s perfect.” She was honest at her words and he noticed.

Tormund left and Sansa joined Jon inside de small place. It’s incredible how the leather they used to cover the tent already allowed the place to be so much hotter than outside.

“I believe that will hold us for the night.” Jon affirmed taking a final look in what he arranged.

His sword and cloak were left by the side of what it may seems to be a big bed made it by several of blankets covering a big amount of straw. After Sansa got rid of her dress and loosened the tightness of her corset, she tasted the softness of the bed and over-approved the work Jon had done there.

“Tired?” He asked throwing a last blanket over her.

“So much…”

Jon sighed and got rid of the parts of his clothes that would bother him that night. Until they both were under cover, both tired but not able to sleep.

“What I am to you Jon?”

“Forgive-me?” He said feeling confused with sudden question.

“You said everything changed.”

“Should I re-classify us?” He was being ironic.

“I just… need to know.”

Outside the lack o light indicated that many had already gone sleep while they both were talking staring into nowhere.

“What you want to know?”

“I am still your sister? Have I ever been your sister? I mean… we never had what you have with Arya.”

Jon felt something awkward inside of him, he was sudden concerned if he ever did something that hurt Sansa enough to make her question those things.

“Have I said something that hurt you?”

“No. Never.” She paused and then turned her eyes to him. “You could never hurt me.”

“And I won’t.”

The spark was thrown. After that, everything would be like an explosion. Inside them, of course. Jon took Sansa's hand in his and they both remained silent while their minds were in a deafening racketing.

He loved his sister – or cousin –, he was absolutely sure of that. His feelings of protecting and caring never changed either. But something was different. And what it was? What could possibly change if the rest was almost the same? And why?

Has it ever changed really?

Sansa’s chest was beating faster than ever. The sort of silence Jon gave to her question got her and she wasn’t comfortable with that situation – the reactions in her body. And as Jon was caressing her hand slowly, she felt the emptiness leaving her chest.

And Sansa saw herself wanting more of that. She always wanted – she just couldn’t admit – but now things were becoming a little bit clear in her head.

“I won’t pressure you to go home but … I need you, Jon. I really do. And that’s one of the things it will never change.”

.

NOTES:

1. I am sorry again for spelling mistakes. I try my best but I am not such a pro in English. Not even in my main language. 

2. I am very happy with all the reach me and littlegirlinvisible is having after the first chapter. It may not be much for some but for me it's a lot.

3. Reblog, like and comment if you're enjoying. 

4. You're all free to give me prompts and ideas. I am also open to request for another works.

Follow the tag # swan song jonsa fanfic to see the posts and the gifsets whenever you want..

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I sincerely hope that everyone is enjoying it.

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CHAPTER INDEX:

CHAPTER I

CHAPTER II

CHAPTER III

CHAPTER IV

CHAPTER V

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[agent-yolk-writes]

Friends Like You and Us - Venom!Reader - Ch. 4

And we’re back! First AO3, then Quotev, now finally Tumblr! Good thing for post resets.

In today’s episode, we jump straight back to the present to meet the last member of the B-Team. Venom has a plan for once, the Reader is Absolutely Done(tm) physically and emotionally, and what Aunt Mary doesn’t know who her nibling is bringing into their apartment while she’s on a business trip won’t kill her...yet. 

(Nibling is the gender-neutral term for niece/nephew, the more you know)

Note: If you’re using this to teleport to the AO3 version I would like to give a heads up that the italics for some reason stop working when the Reader meets Peni. I don’t know how to fix it, so it be like that sometimes. Enjoy!

Previous Chapter | Start from the beginning | AO3 version

...

Indeed, it did get weirder.

You didn’t realize that the hunt for your next meal took so long. The sun just...got ahead of you. The shadows in this creepy part of the city started stretching, covering everything in its path. You thought your eyes were playing tricks when you saw another pair of Spider-man’s white eyes in the darkness behind Ham. The tingling sensation faded as the shadow started moving, revealing that it was an actual goddamn person.

Despite being a self-proclaimed ‘superhero’ for almost a week now, you aren’t getting paid enough for this.

You rubbed your eyes expecting this weird dizzy spell would go away, but upon opening them again they were still standing there staring at you.

“Don’t worry, I get that all the time.” Ham commented. He eyed his taller companion and nudged him on the thigh. “C’mon man, you can’t just stand there menacingly forever.”

“...”

Should I just go or-

“You got some nerve stealing the glory of someone else’s hard work.” Great, he also sounds familiar. Is this some reunion you didn’t get the memo for?

“Well you certainly can’t leave them here to waste!” You rebutted as you stood up. “Someone’s gotta clean up, and it might as well be us.”

“There’s no us in this, missy.” He rebutted.

“That’s not what I-Ugh, whatever!” You shook your head in your heads in frustration before looking back at them. “Look, we’re not going to get anywhere bickering like this.” You motioned your hands to the two. “You guys are out of place, clearly. Let’s discuss this somewhere else before-“ On cue, the sudden wail of police sirens announced their presence as they block off the only ground entrance out of here. Venom instinctually covered your ears to block out the loud sound. “...that.” You sound of your croak almost sounded not human.

The two looked at each other. While you were right that this isn’t the ideal spot for an interrogation, you’re still not in the clear of their suspicions.

“Alright. Let’s skedaddle then, but you’re not out of the hot seat yet, missy.” The brooding spider detective said, shooting a spider web and letting it pull him up. You couldn’t help but groan, he speaks like a dad in a cartoon.

Ham nudged you deeper into the alley. “C’mon kid. It’s quieter up top.” You could feel Venom trying to dig your heels into the dirt, but at this point, it was too dangerous.

~

Spider-Ham, also known as Peter Porker, was in fact not a pig at first. According to him, he was the spider bitten by a radioactive pig that later became his aunt. He told you not to think about it too much. In his world, everyone has been anthropomorphized into an animal. He works at the Daily Beagle where they work him like a dog trying to sniff out the latest scoop. He was just finishing a fight with a mad scientist lobster before he got snatched between dimensions. The more he talks, the more vocal your thoughts are trying to figure out where have you heard his voice before. A thought passed somewhere about what you might look like in his world.

His black and white companion was Spider-Man Noir, also known as Peter Benjamin Parker, who lived in a monochromic version of Earth in the 1930s. He used to investigate stories for the Daily Bugle and during that time a spider that resided in an exotic statue from Africa escaped and bit him. After the betrayal and death of his mentor Ben (“Not to confuse ya with my uncle Ben, who also bit the dust.” He explained.), he decided to become a P.I. and fight Nazis along the way. You liked this guy already, and yet he also sounds so familiar.

To think just half an hour or so, you were about to metaphorically throw hands and eat heads…

And we still didn’t eat them.

Yea, I’m a bit disappointed too. I’ll make it up later.

Those poor criminals, wasted. Handed to the police before you could even nibble on a finger. If Venom starts to act up like a grumpy child, it’s on them. After the small buzzing in your ears died down, all you’re left with is that dull throbbing in your head that you get with migraines and hunger from both you and your companion. It’s not your fault the universe slapped a literal man-eater on you.

Then again, after the whole exposition dump they piled on you, you felt a little guilty sprinkling your truth with little white lies on top. By the way your companion was treated by his not-so-friendly superhero, you could only assume that it’s mutual throughout the alternative universes. Better play it safe and claim you built your suit out of some nanotech that was laying around...somewhere. You even ‘pulled down’ your mask as a sign of trust.

You regained your focus when Venom used your limbs to jump between buildings to catch up with the eccentric duo. You haven’t really kept in touch with the whole lore of superheroes. They didn’t involve you, so you didn’t get involved. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world if you didn’t reblog five different gifsets of the same skit Tony Stark was in on Sunday Night Live. If they’re taking you to some secret spider cave, then it’s news to you.

Speaking of which,

“Sooo,” You decided to break the ice. “Where...exactly are we heading to?”

“Our own little Hooverville.” Noir answered. “It ain’t much, but it’s the best we got at the moment.”

“Plus we already have someone guarding the helm while we searched for more folks like you!” Ham added.

“You’re telling me there’s another one of you guys?” You held your hands up and counted the total number of spider heroes, not including yourself.

“And together, we make quite a ragtag bunch.” Ham continued on. “Who knew you could make a robot shaped like a spider?”

“Don’t forget the fact it’s small enough for that kid to get in and out with ease and her fingers still intact.” Noir added.

“Who...is this…’person’ you’re talking about?” You questioned, trying not to assume to worse.

“Don’t worry, she’s a sweetheart.” The detective added. “She’s got spunk for someone her size.”

Oh god, Venom.

What?

If this is an actual child I swear-

~

“Welcome back!”

You had to give your eyes a good rub to process what you were seeing. In front of you was indeed a small mecha shaped like a spider. The red and blue metal pieces clash together but at the same time was fitting for something like it. The small figure that was tinkering one of the robot’s legs when you arrived. As they stood up and you finally get a good look at her, you wanted to go apeshit over the fact that, indeed, it’s an actual child piloting a robot. You’ve seen like two movies that basically told you why it’s a bad idea for a kid to pilot a destructive machine in the first place.

You can tell by her appearance alone that she too is from another universe. You couldn’t describe it, but her dimensions seem...rather flat? No, that’s not the right word. Whatever it is, Ham has it too. You thought it was just Ham being Ham up until now since, after all, he's a walking, talking, crime-fighting pig you see in cartoons.

“Hey kid, hope there weren’t any scuffles while we were gone.” Noir was the first to greet her as she ran up to him.

“Nope! It was quiet as a mouse.” Was her response. She peered around his brooding form and met your eyes. Her eyes managed to grow even bigger as she approaches you excitedly.

”Hello! You must be the one we were sensing!” She grabbed your hand, giving it a nice shake. “I’m Peni Parker, and that over there is my robot SP//dr!” As if on cue, SP//der’s faceplate lit up and gave a friendly wave. Out of politeness, you waved back while ignoring the spidey-sense going off threefold.

Peni Parker...Peter “Noir” Parker...Peter Porker...Not to alarm anyone, but you think there’s some kind of pattern going here, and you’re the outlier. Well, at least Gwanda is with you for this one.

”H-Hello, Peni…” God, why are you acting so awkward all of the sudden? ”I’m (First Name), hero name TBA.” You shot your arm out awkwardly, letting the small girl take the reins in the art of the first handshake. You wonder if she can sense your weirdness with that firm grip of hers.

“So, now what?” Ham was the first to break the silence before it got weird. “We’re basically sitting ticking time bombs until we figure out a way to get back home! New kid!” He pointed at you, making you jump at the sudden action. “You got anything new to contribute?”

Shit! Shit! No one told me this was a quiz! Vee!

...We have an idea. Cover us.

Huh?! You have a-

Venom assumed control of your body, shrugging off your backpack to find your phone. Your phone? What could there possibly be on your...Oh! You have...some sort of an idea on what he’s doing! Maybe.

“Actually,” You started, bracing yourself like you’re stalling for time on an in-class presentation. “I heard a rumor the other day online…” Subtly, Venom pulled back the tendrils over your thumb so your phone can scan your print. “Somebody on a high-rise took a picture of the area-passwordiscapitalqwerty-where Spider-Man died. Can’t guarantee that-yesallcaps-you’ll see the body with this quality though.” Now if you can only find said photo if the mods of that subreddit didn’t remove it first. Ugh, this public wifi sucks ass. Who's hoarding it at this hour?

It doesn’t help that your hand is visibly shaking as your phone struggles to detect any pressure from your sweaty appendages and three sets of eyes that are on you expectedly aren't making this any easier. To make sure karma knows it's laughing at you, your phone slipped out of your grip at the most inopportune moment. Your case had taken some beatings in the past, but you know for sure by the sound of the landing that it was time for it to be replaced. You just stood there frozen, wondering when the panic attack kicks in.

Instead, your tingling skin is your only warning before your muscles went out of control. It felt like you were being ripped from the inside out and then being ripped outside in twice fold. The pained garble coming out of your mouth was either coming from you or Venom. It was tough to see with your spotty vision, but it looks like your newly befriended companions were going through this too in various states of pain.

After a few seconds, the out of body experience ended. You know immediately that trying to get up quickly will kick you in the ass right after.

You good, buddy?

Peachy.

Figured.

When you patted around and found your phone, you couldn’t help but grimace at the sight of new cracks branching over your screen.

”Son of a bitch…” You couldn't help but swear out. ”You know what? This would be better if I did this at my place, yeah?” Digging your hands into your face you inhale, waited, and exhale slowly. When you looked up, they were still staring at you with concerned eyes. “What? It’s my first week on the job, can you give me some slack?”

~

While you knew your aunt was a few hours away somewhere upstate you couldn’t help but pray that she doesn’t decide to come back home in the darkness of the night. If Penn Station was closer, maybe you could’ve caused some delays on the Amtrak. Didn’t help that you now have guests sheltering in your apartment clearly not built for four heroes of various sizes that had to get inside through the window. You hope no one in the next building over calls the police. You all even put a tarp over SP//dr, much to the dismay of the robot, to make sure it doesn’t end up on your social media timeline later on. At least Mr. Davis wasn’t there when you unlocked the door manually.

“It’s nothing much, but it’s the best I can do. Make yourself at home.” You didn’t need to say that twice. Almost instantly they go around poking and observing whatever they can. “Can I...get any of you something to drink?”

“An egg cream for me.”

“I’ll take some juice, please!”

“Rum and coke. Shaken, not stirred.”

You have no idea what an egg creme is, there’s only vegetable juice in the fridge, and there’s certainly no alcohol in this apartment. You’ll make it work somehow.

Keyword: somehow.

Do pig-spiders even need to get drunk in the first place? According to Google, egg cream is just a fancy way of saying milkshake. How old are these people exactly?

[themusicsweetly]

whats ur favourite SamCait moment and why? and worse moment?

Oh man, Anon. OH. MAN. I lovehate this question. How can you do this to me?! Picking favorites for me is near IMPOSSIBLE and now you want me to choose a fav SamCait moment?? UGH. Fine. If that means I have to stare at my SC folder for hours to decide, so be it 😜

As per usual when people ask me to pick favorites, I’mma break the rules. So here are my top 5 favorite moments (I mean, even this was difficult to narrow down to and I changed my mind like 10 times, so you can’t blame me xD).

1) “So proud of this man..!!” - LA Marathon Selfie

Maybe it’s because personally as a runner I could never imagine after all that training and having set a goal pace and time for myself, that I would then break stride for this long to take a selfie and chat and whatever else they did for even a 5k run. SO COME ON. Who stops in the middle of a marathon?? Sam Heughan, that’s who! And I LOVE the fact that Caitriona waited out there for him with a homemade sign around her neck (even if she tried to play it off later that she only thought to go out to support him at the last minute xD). I could just imagine how loudly she was cheering for him as he went by. This moment was just all sorts of squee-worthy!

2) “Is it weird to say we watched it together?” - Access Hollywood

Oh, you know. Just watching The Wedding episode. Drunkenly. With wine. Together. Even if it weren’t for this fact alone (which I’m STILL screaming about, let’s be honest), just look at their reaction when the interviewer asks them about it. Caitriona giggling like a mad woman and blushing like she’s just been caught red-handed at something. And Sam looking like he wanted to get caught on this fact. I wish I could download this vid and make a gifset because stills just don’t do this moment justice. I will never not smile like an idiot watching this interview xD And thanks to them livetweeting The Reckoning, we know what their (more G-rated) TV watching looks like…

3) The Random 👅 Moment from SDCC 2014

That man will do anything to make that woman laugh. He’s proudly admitted it. We’ve seen endless proof of it. But it could not have been more evident than in this moment from SDCC that has always been one stuck in my mind as one of the all time great SC moments. Sam was in the middle of answering a fan’s question (about letting J x C’s relationship grow organically) and he just turns to Caitriona – who is already smiling at him on the brink of The Giggles – and sticks out his tongue at her to push her over the edge. For absolutely no reason other than BECAUSE 👏 HE 👏 CAN 👏👏👏 Then he finishes his answer with the most self-satisfied smile. I also love that after he finishes he turns back to her again and she nods encouragingly.

4) Pre-Red Carpet 2016 Golden Globes 

I believe it was the SoCal Outlanders that captured this incredible moment and I will forever be grateful to them for that. Just look at Caitriona’s bashful expression here. Sam is obviously complimenting her and you’d think that she – a former model with international success – had never been called beautiful in her life! And Sam looking as if Caitriona invented wearing haute couture. This is just such an endearing little moment that, to me, is almost more telling than any big gesture would be. In a sea of people they are the only two that exist. How beautiful is that?

5) You, Me, and Eddie Makes Three - ECCC Announcement

I know I’m not the only one who squeed out loud when Sam’s video announcing ECCC suddenly turned into him, Caitriona, and EDDIE announcing the event together! It’s always lovely getting to see that sassy little fat pudding anyway, but to see her with Sam and Caitriona in the makeup trailer?? Too perfect! (someone give me bonus points for not saying “purrfect” like I wanted to please and thank you xD) For all that they talk about that cat, I never thought we’d get to see SamCait with her like this – Like it’s the most normal thing in the world! Like a proud little family 😻💜

So there you have it, my top 5 favorite SC moments! I know you have that second part of your ask. But, I’m sorry, I’m not going to answer it. Because 1) I’m about #AccentuatingThePositive, not dwelling on the negative and 2) well, you could probably already guess anyway. Besides, there really is so much goodness to be had, who even has time for those other moments? 😉

Thank you kindly for the fun ask, Anon!

[sixmorningsafter]

Future Scene: the Salvatore sisters find out about Caroline

Hey guys, I know it’s been forever since I updated and believe it or not, I’m still chipping away at the latest chapter whenever I find time, but I have an inordinate amount of asks about the Salvatore family in my inbox (lol I’m lowkey convinced you’re all one person but I see you and I love you), so I figured I’d post this snippet I wrote awhile ago for a fun look into that family dynamic. This is set during the Christmas chapters where everyone’s finally home and Stefan’s getting grilled about his bummer attitude. Mildly spoilery since it’s set in the near future. Opening line based on this gifset because I think the idea of Lexi as a wedding photographer is hilarious. 

“I take wedding photos for a living—capturing regret and self-loathing is what I do.” Freya snorted and Lexi shot her a flat look. “What?”

“You’ve photographed two weddings—I’d hardly call that a living.”

“Um, everyone starts somewhere, Freyabot.”

“Yeah, usually in college when they pick a degree.”

Lexi groaned. “Are we seriously going back to the degree thing? I graduated five years ago.”

“Yeah—you couldn’t pick a major then and you can’t pick a job now.”

“Of course I picked major—I got a degree, hello.”

“In interdisciplinary studies,” Freya said pointedly, and Lexi raised her hands in askance.

“And?”

“And everyone at UGA knows that’s the slacker degree,” Rebekah supplied as she blew at her nails, though she promptly broke into a squawk at the pillow Lexi had launched at her. “You’re such a mongrel!”

“I’m a delicate dandelion.”

“Dandelions are a weed.”

“MOM, REBEKAH KEEPS TALKING ABOUT WEED,” Lexi yelled toward the kitchen and Rebekah rolled her eyes.

“Grow up.”

“Seconded,” Freya chimed in.

“Y’all are rude,” Lexi drawled, settling back against the couch in a lazy sprawl. “Stefan’s the only one who believes in me—right, Stef?” At the lack of response, she turned to find the brother in question staring into space, brows drawn into their token furrow. She waved a hand around. “Earth to broseph.”

He glanced over with a vague look, as if breaking from a trance. “What?”

“What’s with you, dude?”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ve been a gloomy little space cadet ever since you got here.” She paused to reconsider her words. “Well, gloomier, anyway. What’s wrong?”

His shoulders lifted into a shrug. “Nothing’s wrong. Just tired, I guess.”

“Tired from what?” she pressed. “Haven’t you been sitting around doing nothing all week?”

“Lexi knows a lot about sitting around doing nothing,” Rebekah chimed in and Lexi launched another pillow at her face without breaking eye contact. “Rude!”

“Spill, baby bro.”

His brow furrowed. “I already told you, nothing’s wrong.”

“Try again.”

He lifted a puzzled hand. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“The truth’s a good start.”

“The truth is that I’m tired.”

“From what?”

“From—I don’t know, jetlag.”

“From Boston?” she snorted. “Did you make a pit-stop in Tokyo on your way here?”

“Lex,” he sighed and Rebekah ruffled in her seat.

“Leave him alone,” she snipped, likely more out of a desire to fight than save him, but he appreciated the effort all the same. “It makes sense that he’s tired—spending time with people can be draining.”

“Oh, don’t I know it,” Lexi offered back sweetly, and the two promptly fell into their seventy-fifth squabble of the hour. Stefan eyed them for a resigned beat before glancing away, and his stare landed on an unexpected Freya tucking herself into the seat beside him on the couch.

“Hey,” she offered innocently and he sighed—living with his sisters was like living in a 24/7 interrogation unit.

“I’m fine, Freya.”

She shrugged as she settled her computer onto her lap, gaze focused on the screen. “If you say so.”

“I do say so.”

“Well, your mouth says so but your face doesn’t.”

His eyes veered ceiling-ward. “And what’s my face saying?”

Her face pulled into a cartoonish look, voice knocking up a few pitch levels. “Help me, sister, I’m sad.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Did I turn into Pinocchio over the past five seconds?”

She glanced away from the screen and flicked her glasses down to peer at him. “Well, you’re lying and your nose isn’t growing, so I guess not.”

“I’m not lyi—”

“Stefan, I’m an incredible lawyer and an even better sister—I know when you’re lying to me,” she cut in, though something about her delivery always managed to sound softer than Lexi’s blunt attacks. “Plus, these pregnancy hormones are giving me all these supernatural maternal instincts so I’m basically a human lie detector test. Did I tell you I made a CFO break down crying on the stand just by staring at him because he knew I knew he was lying?”

He smiled briefly, glancing down at his hands. “You have an interesting definition of maternal.”

“It was badass.”

“Sounds like it.”

He felt her staring at him for a beat. “Look, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to talk about it, okay? I get it. I just wouldn’t pretend nothing’s wrong because even if me and Dad and Mom are willing to overlook it, Lexi and Rebekah are going to be on you like bloodhounds.” She shot a glance at the pair—Rebekah was gesturing wildly and Lexi was mimicking her every move. “I mean, assuming they don’t kill each other first.”

He nodded vaguely, stare still fixed on his hands. Christ, he wished he could just shake this. He hadn’t been home all year, not even for Thanksgiving, and now that he finally was, his head was somewhere else. He couldn’t even really blame them for prying.

“Was it Bonnie?” she ventured after a few seconds, testing the waters. “Did you guys get into a fight or something?”

He shook his head. “Nah.” He chuckled after a second. “I mean we did, actually, but we’re all good now.”

She nodded, sorting the information into the digital filing system that was her hyper-efficient brain. “School?”

He shrugged. “School’s good.”

He wasn’t sure why he was fighting telling them the truth so badly. Part of it was annoyance, sure—he loved his sisters, but they were nosy and entitled as all hell—but if he was being honest with himself, a larger part of it felt more like guilt. He didn’t want to unload another drama on them. He didn’t want to be the idiot who got carried away with another girl and ruined a holiday over it. He was so damn tired of being that guy.

He could handle this on his own.

“Internship?”

He shook his head at the well-meaning prompt. “Just got promoted, actually.”

Her brows drew up. “Big case?”

“Huge case.”

“That’s my little brother.”

He smiled and she returned it for a beat before chewing her lip. “Is it…” she hesitated and he glanced up at her, brows drawing in a bit. Freya wasn’t the hesitating type. After a few seconds, she sighed and met his gaze with her typically frank look. “Stefan, is it Elena?”

He broke into a dry laugh. “What?”

“Elena,” she repeated, eyes humorless with concern. “Did she, I don’t know, get in contact with you or something?”

He opened his mouth to say no before suddenly remembering that yeah, she had gotten in contact with him. They were meeting for coffee in a few days. He’d almost forgotten.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Or, I mean, not in the—that’s not what—” He shook his head again, waving his hand to dismiss the notion, and her brows drew up.

“Then is it some other girl? Because the only other time I’ve seen you act like this is—”

“Caroline!” a voice suddenly rang out in triumph, as if it’d just discovered the cure for cancer, and his gaze immediately snapped over to Rebekah. Her eyes were bright and eager on his, hair a mess from struggling to get her phone back from Lexi. “It’s Caroline, isn’t it?”

He felt his stomach filling with lead.

“Who the hell is Caroline?” Lexi scoffed, and Rebekah grinned at her, too excited to remember her hatred from three seconds ago.

“Stefan’s future wife.”

“What?”

Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Bonnie’s friend from college! The other girl stuck in the apartment.”

Lexi’s eyes lit up like a ping-pong machine as she turned to look at him. “Bitchy Roommate!?”

Stefan sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face—he could feel all three of their gazes boring into his profile.

“I thought you guys hated each other.”

“They did, but then they fell for each other.”

He let out a groan of resignation. “No, we didn’t.”

“They totally did.”

“Is that true?” Freya asked, her voice gentler than Rebekah’s, more curious. “Did you meet someone?”

“I didn’t meet her—I’ve known her for three years,” he offered in irritable reply, and Freya’s eyes took on a glint of humor.

“You know what I mean.”

“He’s avoiding a direct answer ‘cause it’s true,” Rebekah simpered and wow, he really wished he was an only child.

“Hold on, I’m so confused—so we like Bitchy Roommate now?” Lexi pressed, and Freya shot her an amused look.

“Her name’s Caroline.”

“Bitchy Roommate, Bitchy Carol, same difference—Stefan.” She snapped her fingers at him to get his attention in the most obnoxious way possible. “What’s going on here, dude?”

“Nothing,” he replied stubbornly and Freya gave him a knowing look.

“Stef, I think it’s pretty clear that something’s—”

“No, you know what, enough,” he cut in, lifting a hand in a silencing wave, and all three of them straightened a bit at the outburst. “Freya, you said if I had a problem, all I had to say was that I didn’t want to talk about it so this is me formally telling you guys that yeah, some things in my life aren’t great right now, and while I appreciate the concern, I don’t want to talk about it.”

They blinked at him, surprised, and he panned his gaze across each of their faces with a serious look.

“Understand?”

Freya lifted her palms in surrender, easing back against the couch, and he glanced back at Lexi and Rebekah. They were chewing their lips and peering at him with identical expressions, and God, he really hated them sometimes.

“It’s definitely Bitchy Carol.”

“Totally.”

“What do you think he did?”

“I don’t know, but the last time I talked to her she seemed fine.”

“Tell me everything you know.”

Correction—all the time. He hated them all the time. He shot a harassed stare at Freya and she shrugged, returning her gaze to her laptop. “I don’t claim them.”

Aaaaand now you know why Stefan doesn't always want to go home, lol. Anyway, the mammoth chapter to end all chapters that is 17 will at the very least be up this summer when I get a modicum of a life back. Maybe sooner, but honestly, probably not because I have cardio and renal blocks to get through first. But I’m still here! World’s still going! Ideas are still flowing! Just limited time. Anyway, thanks so much for sticking with me if you’re still here and know that no matter what, unless I specifically say something, I’m still here too. Just slow and busy af ;)

[softjeon]

Anyroad

• Pairing: alice!jungkook x madhatter!taehyung ft. ot7 • Genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst | Rating: Teen and Up | AliceinWonderland!AU • Words: 11k | AO3 • Disclaimer: mentioning of an accident, loss of memory → Gifset Trailer

written with @cassiavioletblue​

↳  “Does it have to make sense?” Taehyung came to a sudden halt which made Jungkook stumble right into him but he wasn’t fazed at all. He stood like a rock and it was Jungkook who had to hold onto him to keep his balance. “Stuff doesn’t have to make sense to be fun. If you really think about you’ll notice that senseless things often are more fun than things that make sense. [...]”

Pain ricocheted through his entire body and he fought to catch his breath when he landed on his arm. His head shot backward. And the pain was slicing through him, over and over. In the background, he heard the sound of screeching brakes. Shattered glass was grinding into his hip, more glass rained down around him.

Pain. Pain. Just so much goddamn pain. Like a fireball.

Far away, someone was screaming. Blue lights flickering on and off, shadows hushing over him while he tried to blink against the overwhelming darkness.

There were so many voices. He was getting lifted and a scream tore from him, but he wasn’t so sure if he actually screamed or if it was a silent one. Maybe no one heard him anymore. Maybe the darkness was too strong as it pulled him under. Too many voices, and blackness and then he woke up.

So suddenly, just as sudden as he had fallen into the darkness.

Sweating.

His fingers were digging into the bedsheets, eyes wide as he was panting. Jungkook’s gaze kept flickering around the room, blinking against the light, when his eyes just seemed so god damn sensitive.

There was a throbbing headache at the back of his head making him hiss in pain as he reached out for it, slowly and carefully sitting up. “H-hello?” His voice sounded croaky, like he hadn’t used it for quite a while. For how long had it been dark? Jungkook looked around, but the room was eerily quiet. White walls, white bed sheets. Not even a hint of color. Jungkook rubbed his eyes, trying to blink against the blurriness, to see more clearly when a shadow rushed by his window.

“Hello?” Jungkook asked again, groaning in pain, when he pushed himself up and waddled towards the hospital door. There must be a doctor somewhere close. Maybe they could explain what had happened. He stopped, breath coming in short pants, when he held onto the doorframe and noticed something from the corner of his eyes.

His face.

Bruised up and a cut lip, telling him that something had happened.

Something that Jungkook couldn’t remember.

“Excuse me,” Jungkook opened the door, to turn to the left where he had last seen the shadow vanish from the hallways. 

Tae giggled. He had noticed the new presence almost immediately. Apparently it was a boy although you could never be sure in Wonderland. One could pose as a human and secretly be a mouse instead - but this one felt actually human.

He was a little damaged at the moment, but Tae was sure that a little while in here would make the new one forget his pain and join them happy and healthily. Ignoring the other’s polite request, he ran a little faster. Normally it was the white rabbit’s job to show the newcomers around but Yoongi hadn’t enjoyed his part, so he had given it to Tae who had lots of fun with it!

This time though his creativity had been blocked by the newcomer’s inability to open up.

They were in a hospital, a classic, standard, boring hospital - except maybe that the hallway was endless and tightly curled upwards. Tae was pretty sure that the boy would give up chasing him sooner or later and maybe, when he was out of breath and had time to sit and think he would see that he didn’t need to be in a hospital. That he could just use one of the doors to walk into a whole new world, waiting for him to be discovered.

“Oh, damn it,” Jungkook rubbed the side of his temple, as he tried to see in front of him. “Excuse me, is there…anyone?” The younger looked around, but it seemed too empty for a hospital. Where was everybody?

Jungkook stumbled ahead, right behind the shadow and where it was heading to, following his giggles. This just felt awfully strange. Something wasn’t right.

Panting heavily, Jungkook held onto the wall. “Could you wait, please?” He felt out of breath, leaning against a door. “I think I need some painkillers or something.” He could feel the view blur around him when he saw the shadow again. “Hey!” He called out, a little louder this time as he focused on the figure. Breathing heavily, Jungkook shook himself out of his dizziness, following the strange man further down the hallway. “I am talking to you!” 

“But I am not talking to you!” yelled Tae gleefully before he frowned, realizing his mistake. As an answer he ran a little faster and, as the boy was getting slower, he dared to let the other see a little more from him, down to his shoes, as he danced a quick little step dance.

Jungkook furrowed his brows, confusion written all over his face when he saw the young doctor dancing. Was he even a doctor? He didn’t look like one. “How rude,” He mumbled, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he watched the man vanish again. Jungkook felt annoyed at him and because he didn’t want to play his games any longer, he turned on his heel. He would find someone else to talk to.

Someone who could actually help him.

Jungkook took the next best door to open it up. He was angrily mumbling to himself, something about how rude the other was while he walked on without looking, just following his urge to find someone to explain to him what had happened. As soon as he had walked through it the door slammed shut, making him startle and jump in surprise. His eyes widened, when all of a sudden the white door was in front of him again, standing in midst of a field surrounded by a large, green forest.

Jungkook rubbed his eyes again.  

This was absolutely mad. It couldn’t be.

Jungkook gulped, before pushing the handle again, opening the door but the hospital was gone. Carefully, he held his hand out to try and see if something happened, but there was nothing. It was just a door in the middle of nowhere leading to more trees and grass. Jungkook felt like fainting. 

“Ah, I see you stopped holding onto what you think should be reality. Isn’t it more fun like this? More free?” Tae stretched out his arms and spun in a circle to show how much more he enjoyed this setting. It was still pretty ‘normal’ but he preferred nature over hospital hallways. “Finally, I can get rid of this awful thing. Why did you think white would suit me? It’s stupid! And not colorful at all!” He didn’t care that he sounded whiny he hadn’t worn a monochromatic outfit since forever! And for good reason, it made him nervous! There was nothing his brain could hold onto, nothing to calm his nerves just awful, plain, one colored nothingness sucking him in. He stuffed the white doctor’s coat into the next best knothole (which required some pushing, but finally the tree was taking it from his hands) and there he stood, in his full multicolored glory.

Jungkook stood there, barely moving as he watched the young man twirl around, talking to him as if he knew him. “W-what,” He finally mumbled, shaking his head, rubbing his eyes before focusing on the man again. “We’re not in a hospital?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, eyes flickering around the forest. He’s never been here before, he would remember. Jungkook turned around swiftly - but where the door had been only seconds ago it was gone. A panic washed over him, when he turned back around, looking down on him, where he was definitely still wearing his hospital clothes. White pants, white shirt. This was crazy. This wasn’t real.

“I didn’t make you wear...that,” Jungkook cocked his head aside, walking closer to where the other had pushed in the white coat, before focusing back on Taehyung. “I thought you were a doctor. I’m not...I mean...we’re not in the hospital? Where are we? Who are you? Am I going crazy?” Jungkook groaned when the pain shot through his head as if a thousand needles were pushing into his skin, view getting blurry before. It took him a moment before he caught his breath again, looking up at the strange, colorful man. “Who are you?”

Tae proudly puffed out his chest as the other was looking at his psychedelic pants and velvet jacket. "I guess it all depends on your point of view. You might be going crazy if hospital rooms are what you think should be real. From my point of view though you were crazy before and are slowly getting back to how you should be now." As Jungkook kept staring at him he sighed deeply and took the other by the hand. The boy flinched a little as if he hadn't been sure if Tae was a hallucination and was now surprised to feel the other's firm, warm touch on him, "I'm your tour guide! So just tell me where you want to go, and I'll get you there!"

“M-my what?” Jungkook stumbled after him, trying to keep up with what he just told him. “But...but my headache? I was…” The younger tried to show what he meant, wanting to turn around and let the other see for himself that he had bruises all over but there was nothing. Not even his head hurt anymore. Jungkook looked at the other in disbelief, “My tour guide? But...how did I get here? This...is not making any sense.” 

“Does it have to?” Taehyung came to a sudden halt which made Jungkook stumble right into him, but Taehyung wasn’t fazed at all. He stood like a rock and it was Jungkook who had to hold onto him to keep his balance. “Stuff doesn’t have to make sense to be fun. If you really think about you’ll notice that senseless things often are more fun than things that make sense. If this would make sense you’d get your headaches back. And I’m pretty sure headaches are no fun.”

“Sure,“ Jungkook mumbled, not understanding a word that the other was saying. But what choice did he have? The door was gone. He was in the middle of the forest with a man holding onto him that seemed rather odd, but friendly. And no idea where he was supposed to be or to go. Jungkook took a deep breath. “So, where does your tour lead me to, Mr…?” He asked, looking at the strange man with a smile.

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Didn’t you listen? I can’t lead you anywhere unless you tell me where you want to go! How should I know what there’ll be unless you imagine it? It’s not like this is...” He broke off, cocking his head “Do you think you’re dreaming? Or hallucinating? Is that why you’re so stiff?” 

“Eh,” Jungkook cleared his throat, furrowing his brows, “I’m not sure? Am I? I’m just…confused. If this isn’t a dream then what is this? What do you mean I should tell you? I don’t even know where we are?” He rubbed the side of his temples, feeling the headache thumping behind his skull again and the dizziness making him lose his balance for a moment. “Shouldn’t a tour guide know where to go?”

“How can you not know where you are when it’s so obvious!” Tae pointed to the grass under their feet and then to the trees on their left side. “We’re standing on a meadow next to a forest.” He leaned in closely until their noses almost touched and stared right into Jungkook’s face. “Is there something wrong with your eyes? Is that why you’re rubbing them so much? Or are they bad because you are rubbing them so much?”

Jungkook startled, eyes doe-like as he stared back at the man’s face that was so up close and personal that it made him stumble back. “That’s not…” He groaned, before pulling his hand away from him and turning on his heel. He had enough. He could make fun of himself if he wanted to, he didn’t need anyone else to do that. 

“No, stop, where are you going?” Tae stomped his foot on the ground. “I’m the tour guide! Yoongi gave the job to me, you can’t just steal it like that from me!” When Jungkook made no notion to turn back Taehyung ran after him, passing him by and then turning towards Jungkook while walking backwards so that he was in front of Jungkook while still looking where the younger was going.

“I don’t care who gave you what because you’re actually doing an awful job at being a guide.” Jungkook looked up with a raised eyebrow, “Do you even know what a tour guide does? Maybe you should let Yoongi do the job again. Because I told you numerous times that I don’t know where I am and as a guide…you should guide me.” He rolled his eyes, as he passed Taehyung who looked at him hurt, “Not say stupid riddles or do your …,” Jungkook turned towards him, waving his hands around, “Whatever you’re doi-“ His words cut off, when the breath got stuck in his lungs and Jungkook screamed out. He hadn’t looked where he was going.

One misstep. One thought about how he just wanted the world to swallow him whole, before he was plunging into darkness. 

The earth had willingly fulfilled his wish and so Jungkook fell deeply, downward, and further downwards until … he realized that he wasn’t quite falling in the way he was used to. As if gravity behaved differently here. Was it because he was underground? He shook his head at that stupid thought and then tried to turn as he was still falling backwards. Somehow he was falling slow enough to get a good look at his surroundings and his pace kept steady as if he was swimming in a stream of air. That thought gave him another idea and so instead of wriggling around like a worm he made swimming motions to change his position and it worked! With his face turned towards the direction he was falling he didn’t feel as lost any more. Just as that feeling had settled in he saw that the darkness was finally ending and there was a piece of ground visible that he would reach in a few minutes. As he didn’t want to land harshly he pretended to swim upwards and actually got slower, so slow that when his feet came in contact with the ground it was the soft landing he had hoped for.

At first he could see nothing but the floor under his feet but when he blinked a few times the surroundings slowly became clearer as if his eyes had gotten used to the dark - just that there was no ‘darkness’ anymore. He was in a hexagonal room with a door in each wall. However, they all had different sizes and Jungkook would only fit through half of them, maybe four if he made himself really small. He wasn’t sure who would make doors like that (for who? Or where they simply decoration?) but he figured he would never know as there was no one else there except for him. And a small, blue table with a few tiny things on it. He crouched down to get a better look and saw that there was a tiny bottle with a label on its neck that he could barely read and a glass plate with cookies on it. All of the cookies had a different shape and color and he reached for one of them when a sudden crash made him jump.

Jungkook bumped into the table simultaneously as he grabbed his chest, while holding onto the cookie. “God damn it,” He sighed, when he saw the strange man had just landed next to him – on his bum. “Are you okay?” Jungkook asked carefully, but the other seemed fine when he got up, rubbing his bottom with a soft giggle. Shaking his head, Jungkook lifted up the cookie to smell it. “So, now what happened, huh and where do we go from here, Mr. Tourguide.” He chuckled, before opening his mouth to take a bite. 

“No!” Taehyung ran towards him to snatch the cookie away and then threw himself over the table to quickly push all the cookies together with the vial into his many pockets while mumbling something like, “...not again! No growing, no shrinking this time! And definitely no sudden seas and tears, none of that!” Afterwards he turned as if nothing had happened, keeping his hands securely pressed against the pockets. “Now? We’ll unless you don’t want to stay here I’d say let's choose a door. It’s a pity you can only choose from three.” His hands pressed a little tighter against the cookie filled pockets.

“You’re weird, did someone tell you that before?” Jungkook shook his head but he was defenseless. He had tried to walk away, and he had only fallen into a hole. So, he could just see where it lead him next. “I take this one then,” Jungkook pointed at one of the doors, before getting on his knees to open it and crawling through it without any hesitation. 

“Of course, you’d chose the one where we have to crawl - nothing is easy with you, did someone ever tell you that?” came some more barely audible murmuring from Tae as he followed Jungkook through the tiny door. Again, they were standing in a meadow, just a different kind this time. They were tiny in comparison to the massive blades of grass that were thick and growing big like a bamboo forest around them. Taehyung heard Jungkook gasp and chuckled gleefully. “What did you think that a tiny door would give you a world where you’d be normal sized? It leads to a world that makes you feel tiny of course!” The grass was growing so thick and densely that they could barely see a few feet, so Tae suggested, “Let’s find a mushroom and climb on it so that we see where we are going.”

“Yeah, of course…” Jungkook shook his head but he couldn’t keep from smiling at the same time. Maybe he could get used to it. It was just a dream. Just a weird, odd dream.

“Let’s just find a mushroom and climb on top of it. What else should we do, because my tour guide apparently still doesn’t know where we are going.” He boxed the other lightly, before laughing, “You haven’t even told me your name, yet.” Jungkook turned around, walking backwards just like the strange man had been doing before, “I’m Jungkook and you are?” 

“I’m Taehyung. I’m glad we’re meeting, Jungkook.” Tae smiled as the boy in front of him visibly relaxed and finally even started to enjoy their adventure. Happy about that nice turn of events he put a little spring in his step and Jungkook followed until they were hopping along the way, both giggling like mad. It was gorgeous!

“Wait! There! I see one!” Finally, he had caught sight of a nice, big king oyster mushroom that would give them a great view. “Let’s try that one!”

It was easy for Jungkook to climb the mushroom. He was working out a lot and so it was even easier for him to just reach out for Taehyung and almost pulling him up all by himself (who really enjoyed being dragged up like this). He didn’t weight much – not to him at least.

“So, what are we looking for?” Jungkook asked before adding quickly, “Wait…you don’t know right? I probably need to know what I’m looking for.” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to come up with the stupidest of things he could think of at the top of his head. “I am looking for blue smoke coming from….,” Jungkook closed his eyes as he stretched out his arm, pointing somewhere randomly, “…there.” When he opened his eyes again, the laugh got stuck, as blue smoke was ascending further down the meadow. “You’re fucking kidding me, are you?”

“You got it, you got it!” cheered Tae as Jungkook confidently pointed somewhere. It wasn’t that far away so they could easily reach it. In his joy he completely overheard Jungkook’s curses and instead was kneeling a little closer to the edge to get a better look, shielding his eyes from the sun. “Oh, that must be Jin! Such a nice surprise, I can’t wait to visit him!”

“Jin?” Jungkook wanted to ask who he was talking about, when Taehyung was already slipping down the mushroom and back on the ground, waving him to do the same. At least his guide knew where to go now. “Is Jin one of your friends?” Jungkook caught up with Tae, as they were walking (or Tae rather skipping happily) beside one another. “Do you live here...are there more people like you? You talked about Yoongi before? The ‘real’ guide?” The younger was getting curious about the world he had stumbled into, walking a little faster to keep up with him. 

Taehyung made a pout and crossed his arms over his chest. the little flower on his revers started to wilt. “Yoongi is not the ‘real’ guide. I am! And I’m trying so much harder than he did! With him you would have probably taken a nap in the very first meadow without ever falling down that hole to reach the door room or seeing the mushrooms or Jin. Not every white bunny likes to be a guide. He is so much happier now catching notes and pressing them on paper, so they become sheet music. You would think they would be too fast for him, whirring through the air like that but he can be really quick and precise when he wants to. Like a cat who normally doesn’t even move for a snack but then catches a fly out of thin air because it wants to.” He chuckles, his hurt pride already forgotten. “They are both my friends actually. If you want to meet him too we can go to the and visit him after seeing Jin?”

Jungkook agreed with a shrug of his shoulders. He had nothing else to do right now, so why not meet some new people. Maybe they could help him figure out where he was or maybe they were just as strange as Taehyung. Jungkook looked at him skipping ahead happily, finding himself smiling along with him. Although he was acting rather odd, he found Taehyung still endearing and kind.

He didn't seem like someone who could hurt anyone. 

With Jungkook concentrating on their aim and knowing where they were going the walked easily ahead, the grass clearing here and there to let them through more easily. The cloud of smoke was an easy guide for direction and when they got closer they saw that it wasn’t so much a cloud as delicate figures that Jin blew into the air but dissolved at a certain height. Taehyung was curious as to what they would see when they were at Jin’s mushroom. He lived in that thing so it was often the biggest mushroom by far, with a nice, broad mushroom cap to keep his house from rain so that Jin could sit underneath it and keep smoking if he wanted to. Taehyung had actually never been inside Jin’s house, simply because of the “space issue” (he couldn’t turn into a caterpillar and therefore wasn’t flexible enough to cozily curl up in the stipe), but he had taken lots of peaks inside and found it to be really pretty.

When their surroundings changed a little, with more herbaceous plants and flowers at their sides and moss beneath their feet he knew that they were close. He took Jungkook’s hand again to spur him on. “Come! Come! We’re close! He’ll be there any second now!”

Jungkook could feel his heart beating fast. He didn’t know what would await him exactly, so he tried to see ahead and figure out who that Jin person was. 

The first thing he saw was Jin’s back, as he laid on the top of a mushroom, taking a deep breath from… well, Jungkook wasn’t sure what it was but whenever he leaned his head back, blue smoke was starting to come from his lips as he blew it into the air. The second thing he noticed was his washed out pink hair and Jungkook instantly loved it as it stood in a beautiful contrast to the blue. It was just as beautifully odd as everything Taehyung wore on his body. The younger startled a little when Jin turned around, a smile appearing on his lips.

“Oh, I have visitors.” Jin sat up, rolling back his shoulders before he simply plopped down onto his stomach to look down at them. He cocked his head aside when he noticed the stranger and then looked back to Taehyung. “Did he notice my smoke?”

“Yes, he did!” Taehyung made a gesture towards the human, “His name is Jungkook and he just arrived here, from a hospital. We went through the room of the doors to get to you and our next step will be visiting Yoongi.” 

“Well that sounds awfully nice!” Jin blew another breath of smoke into the air that turned from a cloud into a hospital corridor and then into a meadow of flowers before dissolving into nothingness. “How do you like your adventure so far, Jungkook?”

“Eh,” Jungkook had to tear his gaze away from the smoke, before answering. “It’s been...something else. I’m still not quite sure why I’m here but I’m figuring this out later so...I’m enjoying the ride.” He laughed softly, looking at Taehyung, “And you all seem pretty nice, although a little odd.” Jungkook couldn’t help it, he was always honest - but he didn’t mean it in a bad way. He liked the oddness about Taehyung. It was what made him far more interesting, than any of the people he ever met in his life. 

Jin looked at him as if he wanted to figure out why he was here as well but when nothing happened he just turned his attention back to his pipe and his shaped clouds. “Thank you, that’s nice of you to say”, he answered, as if ‘odd’ was just as complimentary as ‘nice’. “Before I forget, I know where Yoongi will be; he received an invitation for tea. Do you want to participate in a tea party as well, Jungkook?”

Jungkook was just as confused as he was surprised from the sudden invitation. “A tea party sounds exactly like something you would do in a world like this.” He smiled brightly at Taehyung, feeling more and more accepting of this wonderful crazy world.

“How do we get to the tea party?” Jungkook gazed up at the handsome man on the mushroom again, “Will you come with us, too?” 

“In a world like this?” Jin raised his eyebrows at him, “As far as I know tea parties are a thing everywhere and at any place. “I haven’t decided yet. Maybe later. However, you two you two should definitely go. A nice cup of tea makes everything better. It doesn’t matter how you get there, you could walk, swim, ride, fly, take the cat bus, jump from one tree to the other... though I must say I wouldn’t suggest this unless you can change your form into something more... light or flying squirrel shaped. Can you?”

“Not that I know of,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, pursing his lips as he thought of the best way to get to a tea party that he had no clue where it was. When he turned to Taehyung however, he quickly realized that he was waiting for an answer from him as well. Jungkook sighed.

Of course, Taehyung had absolutely no idea either, patiently waiting.

“Tae and I walk,” Jungkook used the nickname with a smile, when he took the others hand again just like they had done before. “We’re just going to follow all the signs leading us to the tea party, right?” He looked expectantly at Taehyung, as if he was the one making his suggestions come true in this world. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun! You never know what’s in the water and although being abducted by mermaids can be fun it’s very time consuming, so we better avoid that. And flying doesn’t really work with your size...“ Jin chimed in with an amused look on his face. Why don’t you use the magic cookies then to shrink and use a pigeon for transport?” But he only managed to say half the sentence before Taehyung's flapping hands and shushing noises made it difficult to understand him.

“I’m not doing that again! Being almost trampled to death is no fun and neither is looking for your human when she’s the size of an ant and running around the meadow. I like them in their normal sizes, thank you very much!” When he turned back to Jungkook he had the sweetest smile on his face again. “Where were we? Oh yes, we were talking about how awesome it is to walk. We should get going then, we don’t want to come too late now, do we?”

Jungkook waved Jin goodbye and in a way, he hoped to see the man again and that he would come to the tea party as well.

Swinging their hands back and forth, Jungkook was on the lookout for some signs that would show them the right direction. He found the first one hanging from a tree. Carved into some wood, there was a big arrow pointing to the left.

“To the tea party,” Jungkook read out loud, happy that his imagination had worked again. It didn’t take long to find a second arrow and a third. After the tenth arrow though, Jungkook felt like he was going in circles, but Taehyung seemed just as lively and happy to be walking ahead so the younger stopped wondering. Maybe even the arrows had their own odd way to show them to the right direction.

“Do you think we should dress a little more appropriate? Like for a tea party, shouldn’t you wear a little more formal clothes?” Jungkook stopped walking, drumming a finger against his chin as he looked Taehyung up and down and then himself.

“I’d like for us to wear something more…tea-party-ish.” Jungkook giggled, closing his eyes as he imagined Taehyung in a long, patterned coat and some striped pants that would look imperfectly perfect, highlighting his love for all kinds of colors. When he opened up his eyes, Jungkook gasped and a big smile appeared. “You look handsome, Tae!” He took Taehyung’s hand to twirl him once, giggling happily when he thought about something. “There’s something missing.” Jungkook said and closed his eyes again. 

“Oh perfect, a hat! Finally,” Taehyung took the cylinder off to have a closer look at it and then hugged Jungkook all of a sudden, flinging his arms around the others neck for a second before letting go again. “Thank you so much!  A hatter is never quite complete without a hat. If you hadn’t decided to give me one until the tea party I would have started to drop subtle little hints - or woven myself a hat from grass and leaves.” He giggled, “…but yours is definitely better. Now what will you wear? Do you want me to close my eyes?” He covered his face with his hands but made sure to very obviously peak through his fingers.

Jungkook walked up to Taehyung, softly placing his hands on his own, whispering, “No peeking,” before closing his eyes. He wasn’t so sure what he was imagining, but he had only a few ideas what a tea party in world like this could be like, so when he stepped away from the other, he was just as surprised what his mind had come up with.  

“Oh, Jungkook, that looks beautiful on you! I didn’t knew you had such taste!” Taehyung made the boy turn around again and again until the other got dizzy and had to stop while his side ached from laughing too much. He wore white trousers that went down just below the knee where his black and white striped socks were showing until down to his black boots, that were laced up with satin ribbons. He wore a blouse with lace and tiny, mother-of-pearl buttons. It had a ruffled collar and cuffs and Jungkook liked how it looked, peeking out from underneath his blue jacket. It was tailored nicely, with rounded edges at the front while it ended in a swallowtail on his back. The jacket was hemmed with a dark blue velvet ribbon that was so soft to the touch that Jungkook loved to just rub his fingertips along it. All in all, he looked stunning.

“You are perfect!” Taehyung complimenting him again, before hesitating “Or, wait, almost perfect!” He quickly took down his hat again and rummaged through the decoration on it; the flowers, the fabric, the leaves, until he plucked a small bow from it with a few forget-me-nots in the center. “There you go..” Carefully he pinned the flower in Jungkook’s hair, right above his ear where it could hold his curly hair out of his face. “Now you’ll be the prettiest guest at the party for sure.”

The younger couldn’t help it when the blush appeared on his cheeks, the heat making him avert his gaze as he felt for the bow in his hair. “Thank you,” He mumbled shyly, pointing at the arrow to bring Taehyung’s attention from him to something else again. “I think we’re good to go now,” Jungkook didn’t even finish his sentence, when Taehyung intertwined their hands again skipping ahead and pulling him along with him. Jungkook was running, while the other was so happy jumping and greeting every tree and little animal they crossed with a bow, taking off his hat in a respectful manner. Taehyung looked really good in his outfit, Jungkook thought again, eyes stuck on him, when he didn’t notice at first that the forest was clearing itself. Only when soft, very irregular sounding music came to him, did Jungkook tear his gaze away from him. 

“Oh, we’re there, we’re already there! You must be really thirsty for some tea!” He commented as a small clearing came in sight with a massive table on it. There was no house or car to suggest how the table had gotten here. It was just the table, a few chairs, and a few people around it that looked as odd as Tae even from afar.

And of course, the table was loaded with stuff. There were colorfully striped lollipops that were as big as a head and heaps of whipped cream. Jungkook could see strawberries - or what he thought looked exactly like strawberries except for their color which was anything but red. Maybe they had used food coloring on them? 

There were a few cakes and cookies strewn across the table but each of them had something to it; there was a small layered cake that was more leaning than the tower of pisa, another one had small wooden toys stuck in them and another cake had clear bite marks that indicate someone had taken the cake and just bitten off pieces instead of cutting it properly. As he remembered Tae’s aversion to him eating cookies he skipped those, but the cupcakes looked really tasty. There weren’t any that were alike, it was as if there was a silent rule that each cupcake had to look entirely different from dough to frosting. 

“Finally, took you long enough!” A voice squeaked, before jumping up from their chair, gracefully walking all over the table, leaving Jungkook wondering how he didn’t bump into anything, before falling into Taehyung’s arms for a tight hug. Little grey ears were peeking out from the young man’s hair and from this close Jungkook could make out little whiskers. “Who did you bring to the party, Tae?” The mouse asked, before pulling his friend ahead to bring him to his assigned seat. 

He gently squeezed the mouse-person’s hand before turning towards his guest. “This is Jungkook. He is from a hospital.” Taehyung had a habit of telling others his name and story before Jungkook even had the chance to. “And Jungkook, this is Jimin, he is a dormouse. Without him a tea party can’t be called a real tea party. He is an expert on tea and teapots, and he can tell you really interesting facts about all kinds of tea. He used to live in a teapot, that’s why he knows so much about it.”

Jungkook waved at the mouse, who suddenly vanished under the tablecloth and reappeared on the other side of the table. “That’s good to know,” He smiled at Taehyung, following him to a seemingly empty chair to take a seat and reach for a cup of tea.

“Heh, not so fast little one – this is my chair!” The voice startled Jungkook effectively, making him jump around and almost falling over. He had been sure there was no one sitting on the chair (Jungkook had even looked thoroughly to not oversee a little person or animal that was just a smaller size). But where no one had been before, sat a man now, grinning at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh…oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see you there…” Jungkook apologized, awkwardly moving around the tall man whose eyes kept following him until they stopped at Jimin who was peeking out from under the cloth. Jungkook looked at the mouse and back again, walking backwards until he hit the chair where Taehyung was sitting on. The man began to lick his teeth, showing off some sharp canines.

“Oh, a cat.” Jungkook whispered in awe.

“Not just a cat. Namjoon’s a cheshire cat!” said Taehyung as if that should mean anything to Jungkook. Taehyung seemed perfectly undisturbed by Jungkook almost sitting on his friend. “Don’t worry, he does this some time. I think he secretly enjoys scaring people. If you want to make sure he’s not around then look for a grin. He sometimes forgets his grin.” He bit heartedly into a muffin who seemed to have vegetable soup inside and then smiled at Jungkook with a face smeared full of green soup.

“He can just vanish like that. That’s awesome,” Jungkook suddenly couldn’t keep his eyes off the cat, who was taking bits from the cheese off a plate to hold it under the table. For a moment, he wondered what he was doing, but when he found Jimin missing, he knew the mouse had been hiding again. “He won’t hurt your friend, though, right?” Jungkook asked, walking around to sit on the other side of Taehyung on the only chair left.

“You mean Jimin? No, never! Not for real. He chases Jimin around sometimes but that’s just for show. The two are very close, they even sleep together, with Namjoon curled around him and Jimin even tinier in the middle. It’s awfully cute, but don’t tell them I said that, I think they still don’t know that everyone knows about their friendship.” Taehyung licked his finger clean from whipped cream. “Why are you asking?”

Jungkook hummed in response, trying to imagine the cat and the mouse cuddling up to one another. “In my world, cats like to eat little mice like Jimin a lot.” He shrugged his shoulders, “But I like this way more.” He pointed at the cat again, who was pouring some tea into a cup without even looking that the mouse was holding up for him to fill, while talking to someone.

“Am I too late?” A yawn followed the sudden question and Jungkook smiled, when he met the eyes of the bunny Taehyung had told him lots about. “Oh, the ex-tour guide,” He chuckled, but the bunny didn’t even really acknowledge him. 

“I don’t like your world.” Taehyung shook his head, “People are wearing boring clothes and are eating one another. You can be glad that you’re here with us. Have you tried the cucumber jam?” He looked over to where Jungkook was looking and saw Yoongi leaning sleepily on the table. His jabot was hanging right into a heap of whipped cream but as they had both basically the same color it wasn’t that obvious. Yoongi was also wearing a hat through which his ears were peaking so at first look one couldn’t really say if the fluffy bunny ears came from his head or from his hat. “Yeah, that’s him. You don’t want him to finish the tour now...do you?” He asked carefully.

Jungkook shook his head, without even really thinking about it. He had come to terms with Taehyung being his guide, without really guiding him. “I am very happy with you,” He nudged the hatter’s side playfully. “And believe me, I don’t like my world that much either. I should stay here.” He took one of the cupcakes and took a bite, happy about the sweet jam inside. 

“You can’t stay here,” Someone spoke up and Jungkook’s eyes widened when they met the gaze of a person dressed in only white, even their hair and lashes were. “Not until you speak to me that is,” Hoseok raised his (white) eyebrow, leaning over the table to take a good look at the human boy, leaving Jungkook confused about how the crown was still on his head as it had a weird tilt - but it seemed stuck.

“Who is this, Taehyung? Does he have an invitation?” The white king addressed Taehyung right away, not even bothering to ask Jungkook, when the other was telling everyone until now who the human boy was and where he came from. 

Tae, who’s chest had been puffed out proudly since Jungkook had told him he could stay his guide seemed to be getting smaller under the gaze of the white king and he carefully avoided the other’s gaze.

“Uhm, not… not really?” He nervously began dissecting a cupcake. “Jin told us about the tea party and so I thought why not bring him along. He’s really sweet, he didn’t dream of one bad thing since we’re here; no monsters, no sickness, he just went along with it as soon as he figured it out and since then it has been a really fun journey. I wanted to show him the sea after that maybe and...” He got interrupted by Namjoon’s voice. “The sea of tears? Do you think that’s a good idea for someone as fragile as him?” 

“Well he wouldn’t have known that it was made from tears, the sea water is supposed to be salty!” Taehyung spat back and only when the king cleared his throat did they both turn quickly around, Taehyung sitting straight on his chair while Namjoon curled his blue-violet striped tail neatly on the tablecloth.

“So, what you are telling me is that there is a lost human child without invitation and instead of telling me right away you took him along on a journey?” Tae sounded rueful when he answered, “I...yes, I did, but I would have told you, eventually. And you should have seen him! He was stuck in a hospital! There were only white walls and cold rooms and... how should one get better there! Isn’t it nicer to be among friends and drink some tea and eat some pickled raspberries?”

Jungkook felt as if he was suddenly at the wrong place, his heart beating fast in a nervous habit as he avoided the kings stare. Instead something else had caught his attention, so he turned to Taehyung, placing a hand on his arm to get his attention. “What do you mean… get better? So...I was at the hospital? I didn’t imagine it?” Jungkook furrowed his brows, as he spoke as quietly as he could but of course everyone was listening attentively. Even Jimin had peeked out from under the tablecloth again. 

Taehyung opened his mouth but before he could explain anything Yoongi started talking. He was still leaned lazily across the table even though his jabot was whipped-cream-free by now (Namjoon might have helped him by licking it clean).

“Hatter basically abducted you, my sweet child. He has a thing for the lost and lonely. And it’s not like you were at the hospital - you probably still are there. Unless they decided to forgo all hope and let you die, then you can actually stay forever.”

“Yoongi!” Jimin shot out from under the table and pulled at one of the rabbits ears. “How can you say that to him! He’s right here!”

Jungkook blinked at the rabbit, then back at Taehyung. “Is that true? I’m….I’m just dreaming this? They forgot about me?” The young human looked at everyone around them, as sadness washed over him. He wasn’t even so sure who forgot about him. He couldn’t remember. But he had accepted this world, that it wasn’t a dream but something else, something more magical.

It was as if the moment, Jungkook let the dark thoughts cloud his mind, rain was starting to pour. “You said it’s not a dream.” He whispered, before getting up from the chair and excusing himself. 

“It’s not! Jungkookie, don’t leave like that please!” Tae jumped up, running after Jungkook immediately while Jimin jumped on the table to catch all the rainwater in teacups before it fell onto the table. When he licked his lips, the rain tasted salty.

Taehyung hugged Jungkook from behind to keep him from walking any further, ignoring how the rain started to soak him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I wanted to see you happy. And you were, weren’t you? If only for a while. Please don’t be sad! I would have brought you back, in the end, I promise! That is… if you wanted to go back. I like you. And I don’t like the thought of you leaving. Don’t you want to know what else there is out here? Oh, I can show you so much more than you could ever imagine! We can dance with the walrus or ride on a tortoise or sing duets with the pansies! We can slide down all of the rainbows and play chess with the frogs…wouldn’t you like that? You told me you didn’t like your world either! Please... can’t you stay here? Just forget about what Yoongi said and then we’ll hide from Hoseok until he can’t send you back anymore!”

Jungkook sighed, feeling the warmth that Taehyung’s hug brought making him feel secure and safe. And yet, it didn’t feel right.

“I don’t know.” Jungkook shook his head, looking over to the mouse, who has stopped catching raindrops but still holding onto his cups tightly as if any moment it could start pouring again. “I can’t remember anything from before,” He turned to Taehyung, slowly pulling the other away from him. “Isn’t there anyone waiting there for me? In my world? Do I belong here? I’m a human. What if I just imagine this…” Jungkook bit his lip, “Am I imagining you because I’m lonely?”

Taehyung shook his head. “No, this is not…” However, he was interrupted before he could finish speaking. “Enough!” Hoseok had stood up, standing at the table in his full, snow-white glory. Surprisingly nothing on him looked as if he had been just hit by rain a few seconds ago, it was as if nothing had happened - while the others at the table looked quite wet and miserable (Namjoon wouldn’t stop licking his tail and drying his ears). “Taehyung, you need to bring the human home. Right now. And then I expect you at my court to make amends.” Taehyung sighed deeply and his hold around Jungkook tightened just a little more. “Yes, my king.”

Jimin held out a plate where the whipped cream was running down like milky soup so that the cupcakes underneath became visible. “Do you want something for the way? Some cupcakes maybe?”

Jungkook shook his head, denying while averting the mouse’s gaze who was pushing the plate against his stomach a few times until he just took one cupcake to make him happy again. When he reached out for the cake, a small, blue butterfly landed on his hand and Jungkook stilled completely. Bringing his hand back, Jungkook looked at it, mesmerized by the beauty of its wings. A smile appeared on his lips and a painful ache in his chest told him that he loved this world a lot. It was so much brighter and more beautiful than the human one. He was about to let the butterfly fly again, it’s little wings flattering when out of a sudden and a small -poof- later, Jungkook got caught off guard when Jin landed in his arms making him stumble a little from the sudden weight shift.

“Did I miss anything?”

Jimin let out a squeak while Taehyung just helped Jungkook put Jin down. “Don’t do that! He might get a heart attack!” 

Jin giggled. “Silly, you’re more dangerous to his heart than I am.” Then he went off to find a seat at the table, wiping off the water from a chair. “What happened here?” Namjoon leaned over to whisper in his ear while they both looked at Jungkook. 

Jungkook bit his lip, feeling as if all eyes were on him (which they were, although everyone was trying too hard to seem as if they were doing something else). Jungkook took Taehyung’s hand again, when he noticed Hoseok’s gaze directly on him but although he felt like he should simply go, he couldn’t.

“Thank you for the invitation,” Jungkook spoke softly, looking at everyone but Hoseok. “I still had fun and…,” He took a deep breath, before addressing the king, “Please don’t be too mean to Taehyung. He was really kind to me, and I understand you want me to go….so I will. I won’t tell anyone about you.” He smiled at the little mouse who was hiding behind the cat’s tail, climbing onto its lap. Jin raised his eyebrow, looking at the king with a smile before he blew some smoke into the air. “I like the human. He’s…different than the ones before.” Leaning over to Namjoon, he chuckled, “That’s probably why the king doesn’t like him.” 

“God forbid some chaos in wonderland!” Namjoon threw a hand of confetti in the air and when Hoseok gave him a sharp look he turned invisible, except for his ears, tail and grin. 

“We should go…” Taehyung had leaned in and whispered into Jungkook’s ear, gently squeezing his hand in the process. They carefully sneaked away before Hoseok could say something else or the other’s shenanigans could get them into more trouble than they already had on them. When they were out of reach Taehyung addressed him again “Thank you, by the way. For speaking up for me in front of the king. So… you are not mad at me? For taking you with me?”

“No, not anymore at least.” Jungkook laughed, “When you first ran away from me I was mad, but I went with you willingly. You didn’t abduct me like Yoongi said. He was probably just grumpy because we woke him.” He leaned onto Taehyung to show him that he still trusted him, before making them both stop. “Will I see you again? I mean…,” Jungkook played with the hem of his shirt nervously, “I’m scared of what happened. I really liked it here and…I would love to visit you again.” 

Taehyung’s eyes lit up like stars. “Oh, if you want that then we can definitely see each other again! Just keep your eyes open and I’ll be there, I promise! The only thing you have to do is stop doubting yourself. That’s all! Would you do that for me?” He took both of Jungkook’s hands in his, totally excited at the prospect of possibly seeing him again.

“Easier said than done,” Jungkook murmured, “But I will try.” His smile gave away that he meant it. If he could see Taehyung again and maybe even the other’s he would try. “How do we go back?” Jungkook asked, looking around, “Do we have to climb up the hole again?”

“Perfect!” Taehyung made a little happy dance, before breaking into laughter. “Climb up the hole again? No, of course not!” He turned and then ran beelines around some trees that were close while Jungkook watched him in confusion. Finally, Tae seemed to have found the right tree because he hugged it close, pressing his ear against the bark and then knocking gently against it.

“This is it!” He called out, as if Jungkook had any idea what he was talking about. 

Taehyung climbed about two feet up before he reached a knothole and put his hand inside. His whole arm fit inside even though the tree was barely that broad. “Just.. a little.. I’ll have it in a second!” He proclaimed and then braced his feet against the tree so that he could use both hands to hold onto whatever it was that he had reached for in that knothole. “Let...go!” he demanded breathlessly while he continued to pull and yank at something with his full force. “It doesn’t suit you anyways, you look way more pretty in pink with your flowers!” As if that had persuaded the tree to let go Tae fell backwards, two pieces of cloth in his arms; a doctor’s coat and the shirt Jungkook had worn when he had woken up; a blue, oversized thing that only fit into a hospital.

Jungkook watched in awe, laughing when he saw the hatter tumbling on the ground, before jumping back up as if nothing had happened. It still made him sad, when he saw the ugly shirt, but he took it and pulled it over, nonetheless.

“White doesn’t suit you,” Jungkook announced when he saw Taehyung buttoning up his long coat. The sun was hiding beneath the grey clouds that hung low in the sky and Jungkook tried to keep his sadness at bay, but he knew he would miss the strange man.

A lot more than he maybe wanted to admit. 

“I told you so!” came the answer proudly as if wearing white and looking good was an offense to Tae’s nature. “I like the blue on you.” He commented after watching Jungkook plucking on his blue hospital gown. “Just not.. like that. I should have made you a pretty hat while I had the chance. Although the bow is cute as well. you’re a really pretty human. And fun too. Don’t forget that please.” Taehyung sighed deeply, looking right behind Jungkook to something that hadn’t been there ten seconds ago. “There it is...” His voice sounded a little strained.

Jungkook looked over his shoulder to find a revolving door in midst of the meadow. Following the hatter, Jungkook kept close to him but unfortunately the spaces between didn’t give them enough room to walk through it together. “Promise me, we’ll see each other again.” Jungkook reached out for Taehyung.

“I can only visit you if you let me! But I promise you that I’ll do anything I can to see you again!” Taehyung leaned forward to give Jungkook one last quick hug before stepping back. “Have a safe trip!” He gave Jungkook’s compartment a light push. It was just the blink of an eye that the door separated them but when Jungkook could see again he was alone - and his surroundings weren’t a meadow anymore. He tried to slow the revolving door down so that he could see where he was or get out, but he couldn’t get it to stop for him or even slow down, instead it felt like it went faster!

“Taehyung?” There was no answer, just the quiet whooshing sound of the doors turning over and over again. Where Jungkook had thought he could see something else in between the slits of the swinging doors now there where only shadows sirring, something white that contrasted with the black of the doors. Black, white, black white.. like a chess board… just that the colors came quicker and quicker as the doors turned faster and faster…

Jungkook felt nauseous and sick. He couldn’t keep up anymore. He was blinking furiously to keep concentrating, to keep walking but the dizziness was getting stronger until his eyes rolled in the back of his head when the darkness pulled him under, making him faint as he stumbled out of the door.

A gasp fell from his lips, when his eyes shot wide open and bright light was piercing his eyes, making them burn. His heart was beating fast, a sound mimicking its state while Jungkook was panting, eyes flickering around the room to orientate himself. “T-taeh-taehyung,” He murmured when his blurred view sharpened and someone in a white coat approached him. Jungkook smiled.

“Well, hello there...“ A tall man in a white doctor‘s coat came over. He was wearing a stethoscope around his neck like a necklace and had a name tag above his pocket that was too small for Jungkook to read in his dizzy state. The man reached for a clipboard and looked at a few sheets of paper before getting right next to the bed. “It‘s nice to finally meet you, Jungkook. Do you remember what happened?“ He took out a small flashlight and pointed it at his eyes. “Could you please follow the light with your eyes? It‘s just a little test I have to do before we can concentrate fully on our conversation.“ He smiled at Jungkook as if talking to him would be the best part of his day. “So.. do you know where you are?“

Jungkook’s voice sounded raspy as if he hadn’t used it for days. “I don’t know…but I’m in a hospital, right?” He asked, turning his head away from the light, because it still hurt to look at it. Only slowly did his eyesight turn sharper again until he could make out the doctors face again and the sterile room he was in. Alone. There was no one around him. “Why am I here?”

“Yes, that is right.” The doctor smiled as if Jungkook had given the right answer to a quiz, “You’re at the Broadwater Health Clinic and you came here because you had an accident. You’ve been in a coma for a few days, so you got us a little worried there, buddy! However, your body is healing great and now that you’re awake you’ll be fine in no time!” Apparently he had expected Jungkook to be happier because when nothing happened he carefully placed a hand on Jungkook’s arm. “If you’re still feeling a little fuzzy that’s normal. Just give yourself time and don’t try to do everything at once. Be careful and try to get a feel for your body again. If anything feels wrong or if you need to talk to someone just press that button over here...” He pointed to a big, red button that was within Jungkook’s reach, “…and with these you can turn on the radio or change the position of your bed. There’s no TV allowed yet but if your test come back fine you can watch some in a few days.” 

He listened attentively, trying to understand what kind of accident had happened. He looked down to where he saw his leg in a cast and to the wheelchair that stood at the corner of the room. Moving his arms carefully, Jungkook reached for his head, where he located some bruise that was aching badly, causing the dizziness he felt. He was about to lay back when he felt something else.

A bow.

Jungkook stiffened up, carefully plucking it from his hair as he looked at it. The doctor was about to turn around, when Jungkook held him back. “Where…where is this from? Did you see who gave it to me?” Jungkook’s heart was beating a little faster. He remembered the bow, the hatter and his friends. It couldn’t have been just a dream, right? But how could it be?

The doctor turned in surprise and when he saw what Jungkook was holding his smile became a little sheepish. “Ah, the bow? I’m sorry if you don’t like it. Normally our patients aren’t allowed to wear anything like that for safety reasons, but your friend insisted on it and that it was helping so as you weren’t moving anyways and he was really adamant we left it in your hair. Do you want me to give it back to him?”

“No, I like it,” Jungkook whispered, holding it close to his chest. “Is he still here? M-my friend?” He asked, feeling anxious if it was really Taehyung who had given him the bow. He couldn’t remember anyone else and it would still take a few days for the memories to come back fully. “Can I see him?”

“Yes, he’s a patient here as well so he won’t go anywhere soon.” The doctor hesitated a little before finally giving in, “I can tell him that you’re awake and that you’re allowed to make a quick trip across the hallway but only if he keeps you in your wheelchair and only if you promise that you’ll take it slow. You just woke up so please don’t overexert yourself.”

“Thank you,” Jungkook smiled at the doctor, who told him to stay where he was and that a nurse would help him up in a bit. He could feel his heart jump at the prospect of meeting his friend, or whoever it was that was here, when the words of the doctor sunk in. Taehyung was a patient, too. Maybe his little trip into wonderland, had been still a dream? Somehow it made him sad to think so. It had felt too real to be there. It couldn’t be just that. 

Jungkook was left alone for a few minutes while the doctor went to search for his friend. However, he didn't need to wait for long.

Suddenly Taehyung came bursting into his room like a storm, hugging Jungkook short and tight before hurrying to get the wheelchair in front of him. "Oh, Jungkook, finally, finally you're awake! It was awful to wait for you to finish your beauty sleep, but I talk a hell of a lot to you while you were gone. And you woke just in time to get tea in the mensa! The others are waiting for you! Come one, we should go meet them!"

Jungkook felt dizzy from the sudden back and forth, letting Taehyung help him in his wheelchair. Before he could walk around to push him ahead, Jungkook reached for his hand, his heart skipping a beat at the sudden contact of skin. “You talked to me? And you gave me this?” He asked carefully, pointing at the bow in his head.

Taehyung stopped immediately, worry clear on his face. "Yeah, of course I did. Don't you remember? Are you not entirely back yet? Do you want us to wait until your memory comes back? Or..." Suddenly he smiled, but it was a sad one, "It's okay, the doctors said you might not even hear what I was telling you. Maybe I'm a stranger to you and that's...that is okay I guess...It will be. I can become your friend again. If you want to?" He looked nervous and it was obviously really important to him. "We could still go for tea...maybe you recognize one of the others?"

“You are my friend, Tae.” Jungkook smiled, heart beating fast as he looked up at him, holding onto his hand tightly, too scared that Tae might go. “How could I forget about my favorite guide.” Jungkook’s smile reached his ears, excitement blooming in his chest. “So, it was all true?” He asked, still a little wary, “Everyone is here?”

Taehyung’s smile turned big and boxy again. "So, you do remember! I knew it! I knew you wouldn't forget me - us!" He started to carefully push Jungkook's wheelchair further along the hallway. “And they are all here, in the canteen to finish our tea party. There's sadly not the same food and we have mostly crackers and cinnamon cookies but It's alright as long as we're together, isn't it?"

Jungkook looked over his shoulder, cheeks blushed, feeling slightly feverish but he wasn’t sure if it was because his body was still healing or because of the rush of endorphins in his body. “I could never forget you. I was just scared I wouldn’t find you so easily.” Jungkook bit his lip, looking ahead as they made their way to the hospital hallways. They looked familiar, only more crowded this time.

“Is the cat there, too? And Jimin?” Jungkook asked when they neared the canteen, “What about the caterpillar?”

“They are all here - though of course it wasn’t so easy. So, we all had to take a little defeat in our own way. You’ll see when we’re there.” He had a little trouble opening the door of the mensa and getting Jungkook through because he accidentally kept working against the door opening mechanism, but they managed anyways and then they were inside. At first glance it looked exactly like a typical hospital canteen, white and grey with a serving counter (that was closed at the moment) and something that one could think of as some hospital kiosk except that it didn’t really have the typical sugary stuff one could normally buy there. On the right corner, right at the wall was one big table (which at second glance turned out to be one small tables pushed together) where all of wonderland’s inhabitants were sitting around it; Namjoon, Jimin, even Hoseok was there.

Jungkook’s eyes widened when they fell on the white king and he immediately looked up. “Is he okay with being here?” He whispered, “You didn’t get punished for inviting me right? I thought he didn’t like humans?” Jungkook smiled, when he saw Jimin, waving the other happily. 

“He thought a visit couldn’t hurt.” Taehyung whispered right back. That’s when Hoseok turned his face towards them. Flecks of his face were as white as his attire back in wonderland, with white lashes and discolored lips. “They call it vitiligo but they say he’s fine, he just accidentally got a sunburn because he didn’t knew he had to be more careful with his skin.” Most of the others looked the same - except that there were no ears or tails on them. Only Jimin had something like a bandage on his back and Namjoon had an inhaler by his side.

Jungkook gasped, “Are you all sick because you have to visit me here?” He whined quietly, not liking the idea of his new favorite people hurting because of him. Namjoon gave him a smile, shrugging his shoulders, as he carefully soothed over Jimin’s hair, “We don’t mind. We can go and leave whenever we want to. It’s just a form of us, just a version that we portray in this world, you see.” Jungkook nodded, taking the teacup Taehyung offered him with a smile. “How long have I been gone since I left?” He asked, “And where is Yoongi?” 

“You weren’t gone for that long, about three days maybe. You’re not used to switching worlds like we are.” Explained Namjoon and then moved a little aside so that Jungkook could see Yoongi curled up on two chairs. “He’ll wake up in a bit. Narcolepsy. But we’re always there to catch him when he falls asleep again.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook giggled when he saw the man curled up, snoring softly. “I’m so happy you came here,” He turned around to Hoseok, “I really am.” He whispered a small ‘thank you’ to the king, feeling honored that he had decided to come with them. “But next time, let’s do a tea party in your world again.” Jungkook said, reaching out for Taehyung’s hand as he intertwined their fingers under the table softly. “Those are way more fun.”

Jimin nodded enthusiastically, “What kind of flavor even is this? Fruit flavored tea? Who drinks that?” The mouse turned awkwardly stiff, as he tried to reach for his cup, when Namjoon ended up reaching for it and giving it to him. When Jungkook gave him a pitiful look, he quickly explained, “I guess humans don’t fit into small spaces.”

Taehyung gave him a pitiful look. “It’ll heal. And I’ve seen some amazing things on the internet of people who can fit in really tiny spaces by stretching and bending themselves into cool shapes! Maybe you could learn that too!” They were passing around the teapot when Jungkook gently nudged Taehyung’s side, motioning to the inhaler at Namjoon’s side. “So, what is this about then? Do cheshire cats breathe differently here?” 

“Oh, that's not Namjoon’s,” Taehyung placed the teapot down and snatched a cinnamon cookie right from Yoongi’s plate. “It’s Jin’s. All that smoking apparently affects him here.” 

“Where is he then?” Jungkook looked around but he wasn’t anywhere in sight. “Just stretching out his wings a little,” came the casual answer. As if to proof it a tiny blue butterfly landed on Jungkook’s nose, happily flapping his wings to show his joy about their second encounter.

So, maybe the human world wouldn’t have to be as ‘boring’ and more with a touch of magic in it.

A/N: We hope you enjoyed our little fairytale fics and loved our little trip to wonderland ;) I bet this won’t be the last fairytale au you’ll get from us, but now we’re working on a lot more other stories.........for example agust d inspired yoonkook story? hm? how about that? lmao THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR EVERYTHING! Don’t forget to let us know how you liked it in the comments below!

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[idristardis]

The Writing’s On The Wall - CSLB

Summary:  Normally quiet and sleepy, Storybrooke, Maine has been going through the polar opposite of a crime wave. There hasn't been even so much as an incident of shoplifting in MONTHS. Until the day an anonymous graffiti artist starts leaving murals and street art all over prominent town buildings. Who's behind it? Why don't the townspeople want to press charges if/when the "vandal" is caught? And what does all of this have to do with Sheriff Emma Swan and local bakery owner Killian Jones?

Rating: Mild T (mainly for a little kissin’ and a little swearin’)

Word Count: 15,000 on the nose!

Possible triggers: I’m not really sure I’d consider these triggers, but this fic does contain mentions of past!Millian and past!Gremma (both in a positive light) and past!Swanfire (in a negative light), so if none of those things float your boat, I’d recommend taking a miss on this one.

Tropes: Mutual pining, friends-to-lovers, modern au (no magic), Henry-being-too-smart-and-cute-for-his-own-good, Zelena-being-Zelena, the author makes many jokes (lovingly) at Will Scarlet’s expense.

Background pairings: Snowing, Outlaw Queen, Frozen Jewel.

A/N: It’s hard to believe this day is finally here!! I felt like I ate/slept/breathed this fic for so long and then ended up having to wait the whole month of February to post, lol. Seriously, though, it’s humbling to be the “grand finale” of the CSLB, and I only hope my work lives up to the honor. This month has once again proved the depth and breadth of talent possessed by the writers and artists in the OUAT and CS fandoms. You guys all rock and should be very proud of what you’ve achieved!!

This fic was a labor of love - and it’s the longest thing that I’ve written and completed in forever - so I am extremely excited to share it with you all. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing beta, Hollie aka @the-captains-ayebrows​ who helped me refine the plot and pacing in so many ways - this story wouldn’t be half of what it is without her input - and my wonderful artist, Bianca i.e. @shipsxahoy​ who made the beautiful banner at the top of this post and a seriously awesome gifset that you can find HERE. I also want to thank the mods and the entire team at the @captainswanbigbang​ for running such a wonderful CSLB event (and for putting up with my frequent down-to-the-wire check ins and over-the-top word counts). You ladies have done a wonderful job and I’m so grateful to have been a part of it!! Now, without further ado (too late!!), The Writing’s On The Wall.

Also on AO3.

February 13th - Midday...

In retrospect, Emma thought, I really should have seen this coming.

Life in Storybrooke had been quiet – almost freakishly so – for the last few months. Not that the small, sleepy coastal Maine town she called home was normally a hotbed of criminal activity, but usually there was something going on that required her to flash her badge and threaten the local riffraff with a night in one of the cells at the sheriff’s station.

But not lately. It was mid-February and quite literally nothing arrest-worthy had happened since early December when she’d locked up Will Scarlet for attempting to steal the holiday decorations off the town common.

She knew for a fact that had been the last arrest she’d made, as Scarlet’s motives had been memorable. Apparently, he’d had some half-cocked idea of holding the decorations hostage until the mayor agreed to “ransom” them back for a hefty fee. (Emma had laughed for a solid minute when he’d explained. As if Regina would ever have gone along with that).

Since then, though - nothing. 

No bar fights, no petty theft, no DUIs, no domestic disturbances, no vandalism...not even any cats stuck in trees.

Emma’d had little to do except catch up on backlogged paperwork and finally start converting the sheriff’s department’s oldest files from hard-copy to digital.

In other words, she was bored out of her freaking mind.

Or she had been.

Because now, suddenly, the crime drought had ended rather spectacularly.

Emma had practically stumbled on the scene of the crime when she’d left the station a little before noon. She’d already been running late for Galentine’s Day lunch with Mary-Margaret - a longstanding tradition they’d kept up since meeting at the University of Southern Maine nearly ten years ago - when she’d seen it.

It had been hard - if not impossible - to miss.

“What the actual hell?!” Emma exclaimed, stopping dead in her tracks and staring at the building opposite the station. The response felt entirely appropriate when confronted with fifteen foot tall graffiti that absolutely hadn’t been there that morning. Whoever the culprit was, they were pretty talented, but also extremely brazen. They’d vandalized the brick wall of a two story office building in broad daylight, not twenty-five feet away from the sheriff’s station. Apparently, they didn’t care if they got caught, Emma mused. I mean, it’s beautiful, but that’s pretty damn cocky.

Sighing, Emma pulled out her phone to call Mary-Margaret and let her know she was going to be running even later for lunch, and that she’d explain when she got there.

All the while, her eyes barely strayed from the wall looming above her, adorned with a stunning multitude of simple (yet gorgeously painted) hearts in varying sizes and shades of pink, red, white, and purple.

(If she took a few more photos than were strictly necessary for the case file, that was her secret).

January 19th - Late Afternoon...

The bell above Second Star Bakery’s door jangled loudly, signaling that said door had been thrown open with considerable force. Though he would’ve liked to offer a sharp word to the culprit about the civilized way to enter a room, Killian kept his attention on the cupcakes he’d been in the middle of frosting, slowly looking up towards the source of the noise. The polite, “customer-service” smile on his face melted into something more genuine when he saw who his visitor was, and he approached the front of the shop with a spring in his step.

"Henry, what brings you by on a Friday? I wasn't expecting you till tomorrow afternoon for your usual visit with your Mum," he said, leaning on top of the display case nearest to the door and looking curiously at Henry Swan. The boy rocked slightly on his feet, shifting his weight side-to-side and averting his eyes when Killian’s gaze landed on him.

"I know, but I needed to talk to you about something and it couldn't wait any longer.” He was unusually fidgety. It struck Killian as odd, but before he could ask about it, Henry’d started speaking again. "Um...can you take a break for a few minutes?"

A tendril of concern tickled the back of Killian’s mind, but he tamped it down. Henry’d always been a good lad, and Killian was sure that, given a chance, he would explain what was on his mind. “Of course I can,” he nodded at Henry before pointing to the case in between them. “Now, how serious is this conversation? Does it require cupcakes, cookies, or eclairs?”

Henry shook his head, and his brow briefly furrowed in thought. “Pie,” he replied firmly after a few moments of careful consideration.

Killian arched an eyebrow. “Ah, that is serious,” he said, bending down and fetching the nearest pie out of the case. “Apple spice alright?”

Henry nodded and moved through the cafe tables dotting the bakery floor, heading for one towards the back. Leaving one of his sales associates, Wendy, in charge of things up front, Killian warmed a couple of healthy-sized slices of the pie and put them on a tray. Propping the tray on his left forearm, he steadied it with his good hand and carefully navigated between the tables. (Times like these always made him wish he had full use of his left hand, but an accident nearly seven years ago had taken his naval career - and much more - with it. He’d never regained full range of motion in his left hand, but he’d adapted to the injury - the other losses had been harder to recover from). Sliding into the chair opposite Henry, he waited while the boy dug into his pie.

And waited.

And waited.

Though he was determined to give Henry enough time to bring up whatever was on his mind, after several silent moments stretched between them, Killian couldn’t resist nudging the conversation along. “Henry...I thought you wanted to talk. Are you sure everything’s alright?”

Though his attention had been focused solely on his pie until that moment, at Killian’s question Henry sat back in his chair with a sigh. His eyes flicked up to meet Killian’s hesitantly. “If you thought that...someone liked you...like...that way...but they hadn’t really said anything, what would you do?”

Ah, Killian thought, inwardly relieved. Girl problems. This I can handle. I think.

He folded his arms on the table and leaned towards Henry, regarding him with a grin. “Well, first things first. Are the feelings mutual?”

Henry’s gaze locked on his. Killian had the distinct (and slightly unsettling) feeling the boy was trying to read him - but what exactly he was looking for, Killian wasn’t sure. He seemed to find it after a moment, nodding thoughtfully as he replied. “I think so. I mean...” He paused to take a large bite of his pie. “...I’m pretty sure.”

“Well,” Killian scratched lightly behind his ear. “I think you have to figure that out for definite before you decide how to approach this other person. It could be pretty awkward otherwise.”

Henry put down his fork and opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it again immediately - an action he repeated twice more before a look of determination crossed his features and he blurted, “okaywellhowdoyoureallyfeelaboutmymomthen?”

The tinny strains of a Mumford and Sons tune floating out from the kitchen were suddenly the loudest noises in the entire bakery.

But the only thing Killian could hear was his heartbeat skidding to a complete halt before promptly lurching into overdrive.

“Pardon?” he asked, sure he must have misheard Henry’s (admittedly rather garbled) question - yet simultaneously sure he hadn’t. “Say that again? Perhaps with breaths between the words?”

Henry slumped back in his chair. “I said how do you really feel about my mom?”

Right, so the lad did say those words. In that order. Right.

Killian took a deep breath, trying to school his features into something closer to nonchalance than panic. (He had a feeling he failed based on the way Henry was looking at him).

“Henry,” he began cautiously, “I don’t understand...I thought you were asking me about someone at school...someone who you thought fancied you.”

“Nope,” he said, shaking his head vigorously before pausing to contradict himself. “I mean, yeah, there kinda is someone I think I might like, but that’s so not the point of this conversation,” he finished before renewing his previously abandoned attack on his pie.

“Not the point...” Killian echoed faintly, scrubbing a hand over his face and back through his hair. This was, quite literally, the last thing he’d expected when he’d opened up shop in the morning. For the first time in the slightly more than three years since he’d owned the bakery, Killian was actually glad there were hardly any customers - with the wildfire nature of Storybrooke’s gossip mill, this conversation was the last thing he wanted anyone overhearing.

He can’t know, Killian thought. He can’t.

But then why bring it up? His inner voice countered in annoyingly logical fashion.

“Henry,” he tried again, “why would you ask me that?”

Henry stopped just short of rolling his eyes. “I was just doing what you said.”

That didn’t clarify anything. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, what do I mean?” Henry asked, putting his fork down. “You said finding out if the feelings were definitely mutual was really important before figuring out how to talk to the other person. So that’s what I was doing. So,” he asked again, “how exactly do you feel about my mom?”

Killian still could not fathom that this conversation was really happening, but Henry seemed as though he could - and would - stay planted in his chair until Killian answered him, so he chose his next words carefully. “You know I care a great deal for your mother, lad. We’ve known each other for several years now - her friendship means the world to me, and I wouldn’t trade having her in my life for anything.”

Henry simply looked at him for a few moments before throwing his hands up in the air. “Friendship?! Really?! That’s what you’re going with?!”

“Aye,” he said gently. “It’s the truth, Henry.”

Now, the boy did roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he scoffed, “but not all of it...especially not when I think my mom might be in love with you.”

February 13th - Lunchtime...

“Well, whoever did this...it’s gorgeous,” Mary-Margaret mused, handing Emma her phone back after looking at the photos of the mural.

“Yeah, but...unfortunately, it’s also a crime,” Emma replied, pocketing her phone after taking one last glance at the photos. “Or it should be.”

Mary-Margaret tilted her head inquisitively. “What d’you mean?”

Emma sighed, leaning her elbows on the table and picking at her last few onion rings. “I canvassed the people who work in the building, but only a couple of the offices are actually occupied, and neither tenant was bothered by the graffiti. In fact, they really liked it.” Mary-Margaret hummed thoughtfully before Emma continued. “It’s one of the few buildings in town not owned by the immortally cranky Mr. Gold, and when I called the landlord to notify him, he’d already heard about the incident and didn’t want to press charges when and if we found the ‘artist’ in question. Said it sounded like it improved the value of his property.”

The pair sat in silence for a moment. “Well,” Mary-Margaret said eventually, “I guess that’s actually lucky for you, right?”

“How so?”

“Now that you don’t have to chase down leads on this mysterious artist-vandal, you won’t have to work late on Valentine’s Day. See? Lucky!!”

Emma chuckled and shook her head. Mary-Margaret was an eternal optimist who saw the best in everyone. Emma was convinced it was this innate decency and kindness that had led Mary-Margaret to befriend her when she was a 20 year old freshman and single mother commuting to USM’s Portland campus from some no name town an hour up the coast.

Though a junior when they’d met, Mary-Margaret had been the same age as Emma, and had slipped into her life as if she’d been there forever. The fact that Mary-Margaret had gotten a job teaching at Storybrooke Elementary after graduation, and had married Emma’s friend and co-worker David Nolan ensured she probably would be in Emma’s life for the foreseeable future. Her sunny disposition generally balanced out Emma’s more pragmatic (some would say prickly) take on things - but occasionally, they just didn’t see eye to eye, and when it came to Valentine’s Day, they couldn’t be further apart.

Of course Mary-Margaret, being so kind-hearted, would be enthusiastic about a holiday devoted to love and romance. Emma didn’t have anything against actual love and romance, but an overly commercialized holiday devoted to a sappy version of it? That she could do without. “Just because I don’t have to work late doesn’t mean I don’t have to work,” Emma replied. “It’s not that lucky.”

Mary-Margaret shrugged in response, her optimism undeterred. “Well, do you at least have any plans for tomorrow night?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think I like where I think you’re headed with that question.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Mary-Margaret’s eyes were wide, her tone a shade too innocent.

“Uh huh,” Emma muttered. “Sure you don’t.”

Mary-Margaret frowned briefly before finishing her coffee and putting the cup down with a sigh. “I only want you to be happy, you know that, right?”

Now it was Emma’s turn to sigh. “I’ve got a wonderful family, friends who care a frankly ridiculous amount about me,” Emma raised an eyebrow, causing Mary-Margaret to chuckle, “and an amazing kid. I am happy.”

“I do know that - and I’m glad,” Mary-Margaret said, though her words were laced with concern. “But you know that’s not the kind of happiness I’m talking about. When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“I don’t need to have romantic plans on a made up holiday in order to be happy, Mary-Margaret,” Emma said, weariness creeping into her tone. They’d had similar discussions before.

“I know you don’t have to, but-”

“Besides, I’ve had dates on and off over the past few years,” Emma cut in. “You’re really talking about more than that.”

“Yeah, I am,” Mary-Margaret conceded. She paused, her gaze flicking to Emma’s before proceeding hesitantly. “It’s been almost four years since Graham died...I’m just afraid that between dealing with losing him and the impact of your past with Neal, you’ve closed yourself off. I don’t want that for you, Emma.”

Emma didn’t really have a comeback for that. Neal had been a con and a cheat, not to mention too old for her teenage self, and the only good thing he’d brought into her life had been Henry. Her history with him featured frequently in conversations about Emma’s lackluster love-life (generally with Emma tossing a good amount of expletives in his direction), but Mary-Margaret didn’t usually bring up Graham.

Graham had been everything Neal wasn’t - kind, patient, funny, and sweet. They’d fallen into an easy relationship not long after Emma’s post-college return to Storybrooke. Under the former sheriff, Art King, they and David had been co-deputies in the Storybrooke Sheriff’s Department. Graham had charmed her effortlessly almost from the start. They’d been happy for about eighteen months, until he’d collapsed one day during his morning run - ripped away out of the blue by an undiagnosed congenital heart defect.

Emma took a deep breath and released it slowly. If she were being honest, she’d have to admit that after Graham’s death, she’d turned inward - protectively walling off her heart against further hurt. She hadn’t really had a serious relationship since - but the pain of losing Graham was only one reason.

Yeah, but you can’t exactly admit that the other major reason you’re not actively looking for something serious is that you’ve gone and developed feelings for Killian, Emma thought. At least, not without Mary-Margaret completely freaking out on you and trying to get you to actually do something about them.

“Emma?” Mary-Margaret’s soft voice broke through Emma’s internal musings and pulled her back to the present. “I’m sorry if I pushed - I just care about you and I want the best for you. Sometimes I get carried away”

“It’s alright, you didn’t,” Emma said, reaching out to squeeze Mary-Margaret’s hand. “Honest. But I’m really fine - and you have my word that I’m happy. I promise if that changes, you’ll be the first to know.”

Mary-Margaret nodded, squeezing Emma’s hand in return. “Deal.”

“As far as tomorrow, I wouldn’t have time for a date anyway. I’ve got to get Henry ready for the school dance and embarrass him by taking as many photos as humanly possible,” Emma said. “That’s all the Valentine’s excitement I need.”

Emma felt slightly guilty for not revealing she did, in fact, have plans with Killian after Henry went to the dance. It wasn’t a date, so technically she wasn’t lying, but she was aware if Mary-Margaret knew, she’d take it the wrong way. Emma just didn’t have the energy to convince her that movie night with Killian, beer, and a giant pepperoni pizza was completely and totally platonic.

(Not that she wanted it to be. But the one thing she wanted more than exploring a relationship with Killian was to not lose him from her life. Anything that had the potential to wreck their friendship - like the fact she’d been well on her way to in love with him for most of the past year - was firmly off limits).

January 19th - Late Afternoon...

Killian gaped at Henry, positive his jaw was on the floor. He tried - and failed - to form words several times before finally finding his voice.

“I’m fairly certain you’re mistaken,” he said. “Granted, your mother and I are very close, but we’re just friends.”

Henry shook his head. “C’mon, Killian. I’m twelve, not stupid - and I know what I heard.”

That got Killian’s attention. “What are you talking about?”

“It was a few weeks ago,” Henry explained. “Just before New Year’s Eve. It was late, and I was getting ready for bed, but I’d forgotten some of my school books in the kitchen. When I went downstairs to get them...I overheard my mom talking to Auntie Elsa on the phone.”

“Eavesdropping is bad form, lad,” Killian admonished.

“I know - and I didn’t mean to. But she sounded kinda sad and I wanted to make sure she was okay, so I stayed and listened for a few minutes...and she was talking about you.”

Killian’s stomach churned at the thought that something about him had upset Emma. Causing her any sorrow or discomfort was the last thing Killian wanted. Against his better judgment (this felt far too much like gossiping behind Emma’s back), Killian asked, “why was she upset?”

Henry averted his gaze for a moment before looking back at Killian. “She said something about not being able to change how she feels, but not being able to tell you the truth either...and something about not knowing what to do. Then she just said ‘yeah’ and ‘uh huh’ a lot while Auntie Elsa must have been talking.”

“You still shouldn’t have listened to your mother’s conversation, Henry,” Killian said. A headache was starting to form behind his temples. “But all I can ask is that you not do it again.” He pushed back his chair and stood up, gathering their plates and cups. “I’m afraid I have to get back to work, but you know you’re welcome anytime.”

“That’s it?!” Henry cried in disbelief, following Killian towards the counter. “You’re not going to do anything about this?!”

Kilian dumped their plates into a rubber kitchen tub earmarked for used dishware and turned to face Henry, crossing his arms over his chest. “What exactly do you want me to do? I don’t think what you heard means your mum’s in love with me. Just that there’s something she feels she can’t tell me right now.”

“Yeah,” Henry retorted, “It’s that she loves you!”

“Henry, listen-”

“I’m pretty observant,” Henry cut in, “and I know both of you look at each other differently than you do anybody else - by the way, you should know it’s really sappy - and you spend a ton of time together, and...you care about each other, like, a lot. Plus, you take care of each other all the time. You’re...you’re almost as coupley as the Nolans!” he finished triumphantly, as if that statement alone proved all of his points.

“Nobody’s as coupley as the Nolans,” Killian rebutted. “Henry...I want you to know I’ve heard you,” he said seriously, “but the friendship I have with you and your mum is precious to me...I don’t want to do anything to risk it.”

It was as close to an admission of feelings as he could bring himself to allow.

Henry shook his head,disappointment filling his gaze. “But don’t you think you’re losing out on something even more special if you don’t take the risk?”

Killian didn’t quite know what to say to that, and before he could come up with an appropriate response, the bell over the door was jingling once more, signaling Henry’s departure.

January 24th - Dinnertime…in Storybrooke, at least...

“H’lo?” the voice slurred out a greeting after the person on the other end of the phone finally picked up.

“Liam?” Killian asked, before catching sight of the clock and doing a quick mental calculation. “Ah, shit...sorry. You were already asleep, weren’t you?”

“Almost,” his brother sounded slightly more alert now. “You caught me just in the nick of time, little brother. Now, to what do I owe the honor of this late night transatlantic call?”

Killian bit back the automatic correction of younger brother that itched to leap off his tongue. He felt badly enough for not thinking about the time difference before calling - he didn’t want to get sidetracked by protesting a habit Liam was never likely to change. Besides, he really needed advice. “I need your opinion on something, Liam.”

“Must be important - I can hear the nerves in your voice from here,” his brother quipped.

Killian nodded, even though he knew Liam couldn’t see him. “Possibly the most important thing.”

“Ah,” Liam said knowingly. “Must be about Emma, then. Finally decided you want to tell her you’ve been in love with her for ages, but haven’t been able to actually do it yet?”

“How in the world did you guess that?!” he blurted, speaking over Liam’s chuckle. “Have you been talking to Henry?”

Liam was silent for a long moment before responding, a bit of hesitance in his voice. “Actually, Elsa.”

“What?!” Killian was truly boggled. “When?!”

“We’ve been in touch a bit since I visited you last year,” Liam said briskly, clearly trying to change the subject - though Killian definitely filed it away for further discussion later. “Anyway, she sees the way you two moon about over each other as clearly as I do. We’re both a bit puzzled at why it’s taken this long for one of you to do something about it.”

“We’re friends,” Killian replied instantly. “She’s...my best friend, actually.”

“I’m going to pretend that doesn’t hurt, Kil,” Liam said dryly. “But truth be told, you wound me.”

“Git,” Killian replied.

“Wanker,” Liam answered, the laughter bleeding into his voice at their habitual sparring. After a brief pause during which Killian could hear him yawn, Liam spoke again, his tone more serious. “So, she’s your best friend. How long have you known her?”

“Four years. You know that, Liam.”

“Aye. You met her even before you fully moved there...it was when when you visited for your mate-”

“Robin’s wedding, yeah,” Killian cut in, unsure of where his brother was going with his trip down memory lane.

“Right - he married that mildly terrifying woman, didn’t he?”

“Regina - though I wouldn’t let Robin hear you say that,” Killian replied, impatient for Liam to cut to the chase. “What’s your point?”

“My point, little brother, is you’ve known Emma for a very long time...and you’ve each had a rough go of it. Life dealt both of you shit hands...and what’s always struck me about you both is that neither of you have ever let anything stop you from fighting for what’s important to you. Why should it be any different now, when what you want is each other?”

“You’re so certain she feels the same way?” Killian asked, afraid to let himself hope.

Liam sighed, but when he spoke again, his tone was gentler. “Elsa didn’t betray any of Emma’s specific confidences, but given what she did say...I don’t think you have to worry...and if it’s any consolation, from what I observed of you two myself when I was there, I’d say she’s right.”

Killian exhaled slowly. “It’s a big leap to make. I haven’t felt this way about anyone since…”

“Milah,” Liam finished for him. It wasn’t a question. Killian had fallen hard for Milah Clarke when he’d only been a few years into his naval career. Losing her in a car accident not long after the incident that had crushed his hand and ended his career had sent Killian reeling and it had taken him a long time - and no small amount of help from Liam - to pull himself out of his grief and heal.

“Yeah,” Killian replied. “So you can see why I’m terrified of screwing it up. I just...what if I tell her I want to be with her, and she says no?”

“Mm,” Liam hummed in agreement. “You’re forgetting one thing, little brother.”

“What?” Killian asked, pressing the phone tighter against his ear, as if he could absorb Liam’s words through sheer force of will.

“You’re not with her now, and if you never say anything there won’t even be a chance of that changing. Be brave, Kil. It’ll be worth it.”

Valentine’s Day - Mid-morning...

KJ: Alright. Operation The Writing’s On The Wall is a go!

HS: Excellent! And Killian?

KJ: Yes?

HS: I’m glad you decided to take the risk. :)

KJ: Me too, lad. Me too.

HS: Oh, and Killian...I think I’m gonna take a risk too.

KJ: ?

HS: I’m going to ask Violet to dance tonight at the school’s Valentine thing. Wish me luck!

KJ: Best of luck, Henry.

Killian sent the final text, pocketed his phone, and picked up the first can of spray paint, ready to enact the plan he and Henry had concocted during ad hoc “strategy sessions” at the bakery. The lad had been persistent - showing up at Second Star after school every day for a week with different pieces of “evidence” supporting his case. All that, plus Liam’s recent advice, had convinced Killian to take action.

Thus, Operation The Writing’s on The Wall had been born.

(The name had been Henry’s idea).

Henry had also opened up a bit during their conversations about his blossoming affections for one of his classmates, Violet Clemens. Killian was touched Henry had turned to him for advice, though given the state of his own romantic affairs, he wasn’t sure he’d been able to help him very much.

He still wasn’t sure this wouldn’t end in spectacular disaster. Though he’d known deep down for some time that he’d been falling in love with Emma, because of past hurts he’d been afraid to explore it. But he’d come to realize Henry and Liam were right, he couldn’t keep holding back the truth. No matter how this turned out, he had to at least try to tell her. He didn’t know if this was the best way, but Henry had convinced him if Emma were going to take his declaration seriously, he needed to get her attention in a big way.

When did I start taking romantic advice from a pre-teen? He thought with a shake of his head. Contemplating the stretch of blank wall in front of him he hefted the can, adjusting it slightly to get a better grip with his good hand. No matter. In for a penny, in for a pound…

He raised his arm and took a deep breath. As he exhaled, he let the paint fly in graceful arcs across the brick, nearly closing his eyes as he lost himself in the rhythm of the work.

If this works, it’ll all be worth it... 

Valentine’s Day - at night…

Emma shifted from foot to foot, cradling a warm pizza box in her arms and waiting impatiently for Killian to respond to her fervent knocking. After another moment or two had passed without any sign of him coming to let her in, she reached up and thumped on the door again. “C’mon, Jones!” she shouted for good measure. “The pizza’s getting cold...and so am I!!”

Finally, she heard shuffling footsteps coming down the hallway and the door to his seaside cottage swung slowly open. Killian grinned at her. “Evening, Swan. Patient as ever, I see.”

“Uggh,” she groaned, pushing past him with a good-natured bump of her shoulder against his. “I was freezing my ass off out there. Quite literally.”

He chuckled as he closed the door behind her. “Now, that would be a shame, it’s true.”

Her stomach swooped and she felt herself flush a little - to hide her reaction to his teasing, she turned and put the pizza box down on the kitchen island. Arching a brow at him. “I’d think you’d have a little more sympathy, especially considering I brought you pizza. Instead, you’re mocking me for falling prey to the vagaries of Maine winter weather.”

“Vagaries?” Killian asked, quirking his own eyebrow at her, he moved to the cabinet to get them plates. “Interesting word choice.”

She shrugged. “Hey, I do listen when you fancy-talk. Sometimes.”

He snorted and set the plates down next to the pizza. “How kind of you.”

“You know I try,” she said with a laugh before walking back to the entryway to hang up her coat. She paused as she passed back through the open plan living area, taking a moment to soak up the room’s coziness. It was one of Emma’s favorite places. An inviting, squishy-soft sofa faced a series of built in shelves crammed with books, knickknacks, and photos. The shelves flanked a squat fireplace lit with a warmly crackling fire. Killian’s television sat in one corner, and an armchair that matched the sofa was in another. Above the mantel hung a beautiful seascape that had been painted by Killian’s late mother, Alice.

(Apparently, Killian had taken after his mother artistically - though he’d long denied it, saying his talent never amounted to more than “doodling.” It frustrated Emma greatly that he’d never shown her much of his work).

When she returned to the kitchen, Killian had slipped two slices onto each of their plates and was rummaging around in his fridge for their beers. “So...what are we watching tonight?”

Killian handed her the plates, tucked a roll of paper towel under his left arm, and picked up the beers with his good hand, nodding in the direction of his television. “You can look over the selection yourself,” he murmured. “I had a bit of trouble deciding.”

“Really?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder at him as she moved to sit. “That’s not like you.”

He chuckled softly as he followed her and sat down on the other end of the sofa. “Yes, well,” he said, trading her one of the beer bottles for one of the plates of pizza. “Your list of off-limits movies was rather lengthy.”

She rolled her eyes. “I just didn’t want to be hit over the head for two hours with soppy romantic cliches. I get enough of those when I do movie night with Mary-Margaret. I’ve hit my quota for the year already, I think.”

“That is impressive, seeing as we’re only halfway through February,” he grinned, before taking a pull from his beer.

“Mm, well that’s Mary-Margaret for ya,” Emma concurred, leaning forward to look at the DVDs spread over the surface of the coffee table. There were action movies, a couple of selections from Marvel, and - predictably, where Killian was concerned - Star Wars. But a DVD set slightly apart from the others caught her eye. She grinned. Perfect. “Hmmm...how about that one?”

Killian nodded and got up to put Garden State in the player. They fell into a comfortable silence for a while, enjoying their pizza and beer, sometimes watching the movie and sometimes ignoring it in favor of trading their more colorful stories from the past week. (When Emma recounted the tale of her mysterious and artistic vandal, an odd expression flashed over Killian’s face, but it was gone and he was telling her about one of his amusing regulars at the bakery before she could process what had happened).

Around the point in the film when Zach Braff and Natalie Portman were standing on top of construction equipment at the bottom of a quarry and screaming their heads off, Killian glanced over at her, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “How’d it go...getting Henry ready for the dance?”

She sighed and rolled her head to the side so she could look at him without sitting up from where she was slumped into the couch. He was closer than he’d been before - the two of them had gravitated into each other bit by bit during the course of the film. “You just had to bring that up, didn’t you? Part of the point of this movie night was to help me forget that for a while.”

He chuckled, shifting closer as he spoke. “C’mon now, Swan. Surely it couldn’t have been that bad.” He nudged her shoulder gently with his own. “It must have been at least a little bit exciting.”

Emma didn’t answer immediately, staring at the television without really seeing it. Finally, she nodded, albeit reluctantly. “It was...a bit...but also kinda terrifying...realizing he’s old enough to be excited about going to school dances.” She let herself lean further into Killian, dropping her head on his shoulder. Normally, she’d hold herself back more - casually touching him made her want things she was sure she couldn’t have, and she usually made sure to only do it in the smallest of doses - but tonight she just needed the comfort of his solid presence. “Is it horribly cliched if I say it felt like he was a toddler just a few days ago?”

“Not at all, Swan,” he murmured, curling his arm around her shoulders and pulling her further into his side. This is comfortable, she thought to herself. Dangerously so. But she couldn’t bring herself to pull away, soaking up Killian’s warmth as he continued. “It’s only natural you’d feel that way since the lad’s started showing an interest in dating and-”

She jerked upright, the motion causing his arm to fall away from her. But the flicker of regret she felt at that was mixed with a much larger dose of astonishment. “Dating? Who said anything about Henry dating?! Do you know something I don’t know? Killian, has he told you he likes someone?! Who?”

The apples of Killian’s cheeks flushed ever-so-slightly pink, which Emma secretly found adorable - but she pushed down the flip-flopping sensation in her stomach and waited him out. She needed answers about Henry too badly to think about how Killian somehow became even more handsome when he was flustered.

Finally, he spoke, tilting his head down and glancing up at her from under a slightly furrowed brow. “The lad...err...he does talk to me from time to time, Swan. Without betraying his trust, I can say there are...things...of a slightly romantic nature...that an almost-teenage boy doesn’t exactly want to share with his mother,” he said softly, reaching out to rest his left hand gently on her knee, “no matter how close the two of you may be.”

Emma considered that for a moment, swallowing down the nervous flutter caused partly by the thought of Henry taking his first steps (however tentative) into the world of dating, and partly by Killian’s proximity. She must have been lost in her thoughts for longer than she’d realized, because Killian had started speaking again, this time rather hesitantly.

“I...I do hope it’s alright he came to me Emma. You know I would have shared it with you - or urged Henry to do so himself - if I thought it were anything for you to be worried about. I hope I haven’t overstep-”

“No!” she cut him off, dropping her hand on top of his and interlacing their fingers. His eyes followed her action, seemingly transfixed by the way she’d reached for his injured hand without a second thought. “You didn’t - not at all. Killian,” she paused, waiting for him to look up at her before continuing. “I’m glad he feels he can talk to you about things like that...you have to know, I’m so glad he has you.”

“He does,” Killian agreed earnestly, his gaze never leaving hers. “You both do.”

Emma’s pulse picked up as the air around them thickened and grew warmer. Her mouth was suddenly dry and nothing could have torn her gaze away from Killian in that moment. For his part, he seemed equally transfixed, his eyes finally breaking from hers to flick down to her lips. Is he getting closer or is that me? Emma wondered. Maybe it’s both of us. Killian opened his mouth to speak again - to say what, she didn’t know - when suddenly her phone started ringing.

Craaaaaaaap.

-/-

Killian watched as Emma leapt off the couch, struggling to yank her phone out of her pocket before the caller hung up. She managed to answer it just in time, mouthing sorry at him before disappearing into his kitchen to take the call.

He flopped into the cushions with a sigh before scrubbing his hand through his hair. How the bloody hell did that happen?! One minute they’d been having a totally normal movie night, and the next they were bang in the middle of what had felt like some sort of relationship changing moment. Almost. The truly boggling thing was that they had reached that point, but not at all in the way Killian had anticipated.

Of course, if you’d gotten over your own nerves and eased into declaring your feelings the way you’d planned, things might have been very different right about now...one way or another.

Glancing over the back of the couch, Killian could see Emma pacing around the kitchen with increasing speed, her phone still glued to her ear. She was gesturing emphatically with her free hand, the tone of her voice rising in pitch. Though he couldn’t really make out what she was saying, he had no trouble catching it when she semi-growled “are you fucking kidding me, David?!”

Killian wasn’t sure whether he was grateful or disappointed that it seemed their evening were coming to an abrupt and unexpected end. The ache of his as-yet unconfessed feelings mingled unpleasantly with relief that he hadn’t done something to utterly screw up their friendship.

“Hey, I’m so sorry, but I’ve gotta run,” Emma said, striding back into the living area, her words pulling him from his reverie. “You would not believe what I’m going to have to go deal with.”

Killian got to his feet, following her towards the entryway. He leaned against the wall, watching her bundle herself back into her coat. “Scarlet?” he guessed. She nodded. “What’s he done now, then?”

She whirled to face him, her expression a picture of exasperation. “Disturbed the peace, for one. He had the oh-so-brilliant idea that serenading his ex on Valentine’s Day would be the best way to get her back. It seems that neither she, or her new girlfriend, agreed.”

“Oh dear,” Killian said with feigned sympathy, his eyebrow quirking up. “That is unfortunate.”

“Yeah,” Emma grumbled. “Ana’s neighbors didn’t take too kindly to it either, as he decided he was going to stand under her window and belt out love songs for half an hour. David’s still on scene taking statements. I get the fun job of picking Scarlet up at the hospital and arresting him once they’re done treating him.”

“What?”

“Oh, yeah...the best part is I’m also going to have to charge him with public indecency. He decided the perfect way to carry out his plan was dressed as Cupid.”

“In Maine? In February?!” Killian asked incredulously. “What was he thinking?!”

Emma shoved her beanie back down over her curls. “Who the hell knows what, or if, he’s ever thinking. Apparently, his...loincloth or whatever...was very, um, skimpy. David mentioned they’re worried about frostbite.”

“Jesus,” Killian muttered, “I actually almost feel sorry for him.”

“Yeah,” Emma nodded. “I guess his heart was in the right place...but some guys are just not cut out for grand romantic gestures. Anyway,” she looked up at him, her gaze unmistakably tinged with regret, “I’m sorry I’ve gotta cut our movie night short, especially for this nonsense...but I’d better get a move on.”

“Don’t worry about it, Swan,” he said. “I understand - duty calls. Maybe we can get lunch this week.”

“I’d like that,” she said with a soft smile before turning to leave, her reluctance to go sparking a fresh wave of hope that perhaps he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

He shivered in the burst of cold air that swept in when she opened the door, watching her go and raising a hand to wave as she jogged down the walkway towards her car.

As the door swung shut, he leaned against it, his head falling against the wood with a thunk. He scrubbed a hand over his face and back into his hair, sighing heavily.

The plan - at least this part of it - had been simple. Movie night with Emma had already been on tap before he and Henry had concocted their “operation.” Whereas Henry had argued for boldly taking romantic action, Killian had thought highlighting the familiar would be comforting - he’d theorized it would put Emma at ease.

So this had been the compromise - dramatic romantic graffiti to get her attention, and then a quiet night in where he’d reveal that he was the artist and then tell her he was more than halfway to being in love with her. Simple, right? It had proved to be anything but. He sighed again and pushed himself off the door when something Emma had said suddenly struck him. A grin spread across his face, a new version of the plan beginning to take form in his mind.

Scarlet might not be able to pull off a grand romantic gesture...but I certainly can.

February 22 - Mid-Afternoon…

“I take it you know Kristoff finally proposed?” Elsa asked, her expression discernibly wry even through their less-than-stellar Skype connection.

“Um, yeah,” Emma laughed. “If the approximately thirty texts Anna sent me over the past week hadn’t given it away, Ingrid came around the other day to share the news.”

“And to gently probe about your own love life, right?” Elsa arched a knowing eyebrow.

“Let me guess, she called you?” It wasn’t really a question. Emma knew her adoptive mother well, and she’d been expecting her visit from the moment Anna had sent her first exclamation point riddled text. It wasn’t hard to fathom Ingrid would have contacted Elsa too.

When she’d been bouncing her way through the foster system as a kid, Emma hadn’t imagined someone like Ingrid Fisher - a fierce and protective foster mother who hadn’t given up on her even when she’d run away, met Neal, and come back to Storybrooke pregnant and alone. Ingrid had adopted Emma as well as Elsa and Anna (her two orphaned nieces) and had never looked back. It hadn’t always been easy, but eventually the four of them had become the family Emma’d never dared to let herself dream of - something she was grateful for every day.

“Yup,” Elsa confirmed with a sigh. “She was fairly disappointed to hear that work’s been keeping me so busy lately. She hid it pretty well, though. I’ll give her credit.”

“Mm,” Emma hummed in agreement. “I got pretty much the same reaction when I told her I’m more focused on figuring out Henry’s love life than my own right now.”

Elsa laughed before catching herself. “Wait a minute, are you serious? Henry has a love life? When did that happen?”

“I’m not really sure,” Emma’s brow furrowed, and she reached for the cup of cocoa sitting on the kitchen table. “He hasn’t really said too much to me about it - I only found out because Killian spilled the beans when I was over at his place last week.” She took a sip of cocoa. “Apparently, Henry’s been talking to him about someone at school that he likes, and he came home from the Valentine’s dance with a goofy grin and a friendship bracelet I’ve never seen before. I’ve tried to give him his space, but…”

“I’m sure he’ll tell you more when he’s ready, Em,” Elsa reassured. “You know you’ve got a good kid there.”

“A great one,” Emma agreed. “I just...I don’t want to pull an Ingrid on him, but...I guess I’m understanding how she feels a bit more. It’s tough when your kid gets their first real crush - he’s growing up faster than I can deal with.”

Elsa looked at her sympathetically for a moment. “If anyone can make it through the terrible tween years, it’s going to be you and Henry, Emma.”

“I know. I do. Really.” She smiled at her adoptive sister gratefully. She was still a bit rattled by Henry’s burgeoning romance and the fact he didn’t seem to want to share too much about it with her, but talking with Elsa always had a way of calming her down and making her see things more clearly. “Anyway...I know you must want to hear about all the crazy things you’ve missed out on here this past week.”

Elsa laughed. “True. I know that Anna’s engagement can’t have been the only big news. I need my weekly dose of Storybrooke gossip.”

Emma spent the next forty-five minutes filling Elsa in on the happenings of their small hometown, and listening as Elsa related the news of her week in Boston. She missed her sister deeply, but was so proud of her for pursuing her legal career even though it had taken her away from home. Weekly phone or video calls were their way of staying close even when they couldn’t be in the same space and Emma cherished them.

She was just wrapping up telling Elsa about the absolute insanity that was the ongoing Will Scarlet saga when a thoughtful expression crossed Elsa’s face. “What’s that look for?”

Elsa hesitated, then looked directly at Emma, her gaze piercing even through the computer screen. “You said earlier you were at Killian’s last week, and you just mentioned you were at his place when you had to go take care of Scarlet. Did you and Killian spend Valentine’s Day together?”

“Oh,” Emma was caught short, not having expected that. “Um...kind of.”

“Kind of? What exactly does that mean, Emma?”

“You sound like Ingrid,” Emma grumbled, putting her now nearly empty mug down and crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Emma,” Elsa chided, leveling her with a look that demanded answers more effectively than anything she could have said.

“It was a movie night. Just like every movie night we’ve ever had since we’ve been friends. Nothing else,” she replied, though she couldn’t meet Elsa’s eyes.

“Huh,” Elsa responded. “Then why are you blushing and not able to look at me?”

“Jeez! Are you this persistent in court?” Emma muttered.

“Yes,” Elsa replied calmly. “Especially when I know I’m on to something. ”

“Oh my God, El!” Emma exclaimed, finally locking eyes with her. “It was a normal movie night - it was,” she reiterated at Elsa’s skeptical look, “but then...it got a little weird.”

“In what way?”

Emma shrugged. “We started talking about Henry...that’s when I found out he’s been talking to Killian about dating...and things got a little...emotional. Killian said something about always being there for both of us and...wealmostkissed,” she finished, speeding through the last few words before she chickened out.

Elsa looked thoughtful, but not surprised. “Don’t you think this invalidates your argument?”

“Huh?” She stared at her sister in confusion.

“What we were talking about at New Year’s,” Elsa said matter-of-factly. “When you claimed you couldn’t tell Killian you were in love with him because he absolutely and positively only saw you as a good friend. Seems like that’s not so much the case, is it? I mean,” she continued, “he was about to kiss you too, right?”

Emma nodded weakly. “Yeah,” she murmured.

“Oh, Emma,” Elsa sighed ”I hate to see you so twisted up about this. You’ve got to tell Killian how you feel.”

The two women simply stared at each other for a moment, Emma spoke. “What if I’m wrong though?” she asked quietly. “Or what if he does want something more too, but it doesn’t work out? He’s one of my best friends. I can’t lose him,” she finished, emotion rendering her voice little more than a whisper.

Elsa regarded Emma candidly. “First, anybody who sees the two of you together can tell how much you care about each other. When I was back home for Christmas the amount of heart eyes the two of you were making at each other was off the charts. Plus, you spent most of Ruby’s Christmas party glued to each other’s sides.” Elsa chuckled. “You’re almost more coupley than David and Mary-Margaret.”

“No one is more coupley than David and Mary-Margaret,” Emma shot back instinctively, a hint of a smile finally breaking through the tension that gripped her.

“That may be true,” Elsa conceded, “but the two of you looked pretty darn together for people who aren’t actually dating. Liam agrees with me, by the way,” she finished before her eyes widened and she clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Oh he does, does he?” Emma queried, noting that Elsa suddenly looked like she wanted to slide off her chair and out of sight. “Just how long have you two been comparing notes?”

Elsa straightened, shaking her head firmly. “Oh no...no deflecting. This is not about me.”

“Hm, countering my deflecting with evasion,” Emma mused. “That means it’s been at least a few months. Oh!” she brightened, a thought striking her. “I bet it’s been since his last visit here - you were home then for Ingrid’s birthday. Is he the real reason you’ve not had time for dating lately?”

“Emma!” Elsa said sharply, a pink blush staining her normally pale cheeks. “I will tell you all about it. Later. I promise. Right now, this is about you, and you have to remember a couple of important things.”

“I’m listening,” she murmured.

“As you yourself said, Killian is one of your best friends...and he’s Killian. Do you really think if you tried being together and - for whatever inconceivable reason - it didn’t work out, he’d just cut you out of his life? You know him better than that, Emma. That man is as loyal as they come.”

Emma pondered her sister’s words. Elsa did have a point - Killian wasn’t the sort of person who would just cut her, or Henry, out of his life if a romantic relationship between them flamed out. She thought back over their friendship - meeting him four years ago when he’d flown over for Regina’s wedding to a childhood friend of his, and re-meeting him when he’d moved back to Storybrooke to start his bakery. Graham had died in the year in between the first and second times she’d met Killian, turning Emma’s life upside down.

But Killian had been just who she’d so desperately needed back then - her other friends had all been too concerned, too worried, too much. Killian hadn’t been a total stranger, but he’d been enough of an unknown quantity that being around him had been peaceful, a way of escaping the sometimes smothering shared history she had with all the people in her life who’d known and loved Graham too. Killian had slowly revealed his own hurts and losses, and his reasons for wanting a fresh start in a fresh country. Gradually their friendship had deepened, taking on a life of its own beyond comparing the battle wounds life had given them. He’d become her rock - and over this last year, she’d realized friendship just wasn’t enough to encompass everything he meant to her. She knew it was a cliche, but she’d gone and fallen into the deep end of love with her best friend.

Cautiously, she nodded. “You may have a point,” she acknowledged. “You said there were a couple of things, though. What was the other one?”

“You already love him, Em. You’ve admitted as much to me a few different times. Those feelings haven’t gone away, have they?”

Emma shook her head. “You know they haven’t.”

“Exactly. So things between you are already different because you have made that leap - in your heart, at least. You can’t unfeel what you feel...If you tell him, either you’ll be able to work through it and let it go, or the more likely thing will happen.”

“Which is?”

“You’ll be ridiculously and disgustingly happy together and unseat the Nolans for the Cutest Couple in Storybrooke title,” Elsa finished triumphantly.

Emma rolled her eyes, but her smile grew. “That is not possible. They’ve reigned for too long. Buuuuut...I think you’re right about the rest of it.”

“I know I am.”

Emma hesitated for a moment. “I’m scared, El.”

“Of what, exactly?” her sister asked, patience coloring her tone.

Emma had the feeling Elsa knew what she was going to say, but Emma forced herself to speak anyway. “I can’t lose him the way I lost Graham.”

Elsa was silent for a few moments. When she finally spoke her tone was serious, and her question, once again, was unexpected. “Do you regret being with Graham?”

“No!” Emma’s responded instantly. “But losing him was horrible and Killian...I know it’s not fair to compare them...but he means even more to me. I don’t know how I’d cope if we were together and he…”

Elsa nodded. “If you’d known what was going to happen, would you still have gotten involved with Graham?”

Emma sighed. “Of course. I’d never trade the time we had together.”

“I thought you’d say that,” Elsa said, her tone slightly smug. “So why wouldn’t that be true for you and Killian too?” Emma looked up to find her sister smiling at her through the screen. “The prosecution rests,” she said with a grin.

“Very clever, counselor,” Emma said with begrudging admiration.

“Thank you. Now, what are you going to do about Killian?”

Emma sighed again. “I don’t know. I’ve got to think of the right way to bring it up.”

“Well, personally I’d suggest blurting it at him and then tackle-kissing him,” Elsa teased.

Emma laughed, the tension starting to leave her body. “Just because that worked for Anna and Kristoff, doesn’t mean it’s going to work for me.”

“I know,” Elsa replied. “But whatever you decide to do...don’t wait too long. For both your sakes.”

February 23 - Early morning…

Emma left the house feeling upbeat, her conversation with Elsa the day before having instilled a new sense of determination in her to finally, finally talk to Killian about her feelings.

That determination lasted all of twenty minutes, and fizzled out abruptly when she approached Second Star after dropping Henry off at school. She’d planned on walking right into the bakery, grabbing her usual order, and confidently asking Killian if he wanted to get dinner that evening - somewhere other than Granny’s. Then at dinner she would tell him - she’d spent a lot of time the night before figuring out the best way to ease into it - and hope that Elsa was right and it wouldn’t ruin their friendship.

But as she walked up to the bakery, admiring the way the warm light from inside spilled out its wide front windows into the gray wintry bleakness of the overcast day, her steps slowed and then stopped.

What if Elsa’s wrong? It’s not like this is a gigantic town - we won’t be able to avoid each other...maybe this is a mistake. Being friends is good. It’s enough.

Except the moment she spotted Killian through the windows, emerging from the back room with a tray of freshly baked muffins, the warmth that shot through her system and the fluttering feeling that burst to life in her belly proved her a liar.

You can do this, Emma.

With that final internal pep talk, she closed the remaining distance to the bakery and pushed inside. The bell over the door jangled merrily as she entered and Killian’s gaze followed the sound. As soon as his eyes caught hers, he grinned. “Why Swan, to what do I owe this pleasure? I thought you were covering the early shift this morning.”

“I am,” she replied, “but you know me...the earlier I have to go in, the more I want bear claws to offset the pain of doing paperwork. Care to help a girl out?”

“You know it, Swan,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows ridiculously as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. Emma fought the urge to moisten her own in response, biting her bottom lip instead. Killian moved towards the front case and grabbed a couple of the biggest bear claws, dropping them into a light blue bag emblazoned with the Second Star logo and handing them to her. “Should still be warm - I put them out just a few minutes ago.”

“Thanks,” she said softly, swallowing hard. This is it - now or never, Emma. “Hey listen, I was wondering if you were free-”

Before she could finish, the door swung open with such force its bell didn’t just ring, it nearly flew off. A gust of icy wind followed the entrance of a statuesque and elegantly dressed redhead who made a beeline for the counter without sparing a glance at Emma or bothering to close the door. “There you are, Killian darling!” she exclaimed in a lightly accented voice. “I’m just bursting with news!”

Emma felt her eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He glanced in her direction briefly before responding to the other woman. “Good morning, Zelena,” he said quietly. “Lovely to see you again. Give me just a moment and I can give you my undivided attention.”

The woman - Zelena, Emma mentally corrected - whirled around, noticing Emma for the first time. A smile, bright but tinged with something a bit frightening around the edges, lit up her face before she turned back to Killian. “Alright,” she practically purred, “but don’t keep me waiting too long.” With that, she brushed past Emma and moved towards the corner table, gracefully sinking down into one of the chairs and pulling out her phone.

Emma looked at Killian, whose attention was still on the woman in the corner. She had no idea who this woman was or why she was treating Killian with such familiarity, but suffice it to say that the big moment she’d been gearing herself up for was gone. Gesturing to the door, Emma broke the brief silence that had fallen between them. “I, uh, actually do have to get going,” she said, “but I’ll text you later, alright?”

What looked like disappointment flickered across Killian’s face, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Zelena piped up, her voice piercing the silence. “Whatever you’re doing tonight, cancel it,” she said, her words clearly aimed at Killian. “We’re going to need to celebrate and I’ve got just the place in mind.”

Suddenly, Emma couldn’t stand being in the bakery for one more moment. Barely meeting Killian’s eyes, she muttered a quick goodbye and stepped out into the coldness of the day, the freezing air seemingly penetrating her heart instantly. She thought she heard him call her name, but didn’t stop or look back. She was finding it hard to draw breath and emotions she refused to name had tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

There’s probably a rational explanation. Killian would have told you if he were seeing someone new, she tried to reassure herself. Wouldn’t he?

The uncertainty followed her all the way to the station, and she had trouble concentrating for most of the morning. She was actually grateful for the call that came in just before lunch. It seemed the artistic vandal had struck again, this time down at the Cannery.

Thankful for anything to take her mind off Killian, she picked up her radio, let David know they had a case, and headed for the docks.

-/-

As Emma bolted from the bakery, not even stopping when he called after her, Killian’s heart sank. He’d been so glad to see her, but Zelena’s somewhat unexpected appearance and ill-timed interjections had thrown everything off. He needed the large contract she was offering him - supplying baked goods for the local chain of B&Bs she owned with her partner would have a huge impact on his business - but he wished she’d shown up at literally any other time.

Turning back to her after it was clear Emma was truly gone, he mustered up a smile and agreed to meet Zelena and her partner, Cruella, at a quiet restaurant near the waterfront that evening to sign the contract and - as she put it - “celebrate properly.” As soon as they’d confirmed their dinner plans, she whirled back out the door in a flurry of red curls and a cloud of expensive perfume. He was momentarily frozen in place as he processed the events of the morning before shaking himself out of his stupor.

Before he could meet Zelena he had to finish setting out the rest of the items he’d already baked that morning, and in the afternoon he and his head bakery assistant, William Smee, had to start on several special order cakes. But first, he had a very important errand to run. He finished putting the muffins into the front case and headed back to the kitchen.

“Smee,” he said loudly in an attempt to get the other man to look up from where he was piping thin streams of melted chocolate in elaborate shapes onto waxed paper. Smee didn’t respond and Killian belatedly realized he’d popped headphones in. “Smee,” he repeated more loudly, tapping him on the shoulder. Smee startled, smudging one of the chocolate designs with the side of his hand.

“Oh dammit,” Smee muttered, dropping the piping bag on the counter and reaching for a rag. Pulling his headphones off, he glanced up at Killian. “Was that really necessary?”

“Sorry,” Killian replied, “but I need to head out a bit earlier than planned for that errand. Wendy should be in soon to cover the front, but can you finish setting everything else out and keep an eye out in case there are customers before she gets here? I’ll be back after lunch and we’ll get going on the first of those orders.”

Smee nodded. “Sure thing, boss. Hey, would you mind bringing back-”

“A tuna melt on rye and a double order of fries?” Killian guessed, and Smee nodded again. “Not a problem. See you in a bit.”

Killian took off his apron and hung it on a peg by the back door before grabbing his jacket, keys, and a satchel filled with several canisters of spray paint. Pulling his hat out of his jacket pocket, he tugged it down over his ears as he shouldered the door open and stepped out into the cold, crisp air. Walking down the alleyway that ran behind Second Star, he moved with purpose in the direction of the waterfront.

He was about to take the next step in his plan to court Emma - he only hoped it worked.

-/-

Emma stared at the back wall of the Storybrooke Cannery, her mouth slightly open in awe. Writing scrolled across the entire back wall of the building in looping, elegant lines. She’d not been immediately familiar with it, but a quick websearch had revealed it was part of a Shakespearean sonnet.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

She gazed at the words - lines of green and gold boxed them in like a frame - for a moment longer. There was something vaguely familiar about the swoop and swirl of the writing, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on where she’d seen it before. She turned to Eric Prince, the Cannery’s day shift supervisor, with a frown. “You’re sure no one saw who did this?”

Eric shrugged. “The first shift was in full swing and all my guys were on the line - it’s pretty quiet back here unless it’s lunchtime or shift change.”

Emma nodded. “Of course,” she said, feeling a bit defeated that once again she had nothing to go on. “Do you want to press charges when we find who did this?”

Eric looked at her, then up at the graffiti. “That’s not really up to me - I kind of like it. But you’re going to have to ask the owner.”

Emma sighed. Talking to old Mr. Svendsen, whose family had run the Cannery practically since Storybrooke had first existed, was not high on her list. (He was a sweet man, but getting on in years and notoriously hard of hearing - conversations with him tended to last forever and she just did not have the time). Still, she knew she had to see this through. “Alright,” she said. ���Is he in his office?”

“Uh, yep.” Eric turned towards the building and Emma followed him inside.

Emma found, after a roughly half hour conversation, that Mr. Svendsen didn’t want was to press charges. He apparently liked the graffiti, and decided it gave the building a nice change of pace.

Shaking her head as she stepped back outside, she turned to look at the graffiti once more. “I’ve got to be missing something here,” she muttered. “Twice in a month? In this town? It’s got to be the same person...but no one wants to press charges. I don’t get it.”

“Talking to yourself, Emma? That’s not good,” David said with a grin as he came around the corner of the building.

“Ha ha,” Emma rolled her eyes. “I’m just frustrated this has happened again and we’re no closer to figuring out who’s behind it than we were the first time - and that the building owner doesn’t want to press charges this time either. I mean, it is a crime.”

“Well,” David said thoughtfully, “I see your point...but this isn’t the worst thing we’ve had to deal with on the job. It’s actually kinda romantic, isn’t it?”

“Not you too!” she cried, throwing up her hands in disbelief. “That’s practically the same thing that Eric and Svendsen said.”

“Well maybe we’re onto something,” he said with a grin, falling into step beside her as she headed back towards the cruiser.

“It’s more like you all have some kind of Valentine’s hangover,” she grumbled. “We’re supposed to enforce the law, David, not admire the work of vandals.”

“I know that,” he said jovially. “But we can’t do anything if the owners don’t want to press charges...besides, you’ve got to admit, that,” he pointed over his shoulder at the graffiti, “is not just vandalism...whoever’s doing this is really good.”

“I guess,” she conceded, though privately she did agree with David. “Still wish we had some clue to go on though.”

David looked at her thoughtfully as they got in the cruiser and backed out of the parking lot. “I think that’s the real root of the problem.”

“What is?”

“It’s not that this is - technically - a crime that’s bothering you,” he replied. “You’re more upset you can’t figure out who did it.”

Emma was silent for a moment before she groaned. “Okay. Yes. Fine. There are no real clues and no one will press charges so I feel like it’d be kind of pathetic if I keep investigating anyway, and the not knowing is driving me nuts, I’ll admit it. Okay?!”

“As long as you admit it,” David said, trying - and failing - to muffle his laughter.

“You are impossible,” she said, doing her best to inject a glare into her tone since she couldn’t take her eyes off the road long enough to actually look at him.

“Yeah, but I put up with you, so…”

“You’re just asking for it, aren’t you Nolan?” she replied, teasingly. “Well, just for that, you’re buying lunch,” she said as she parked near Granny’s.

They got out and headed towards the diner, David grumbling good-naturedly. As they reached the steps, the door swung open. Before Emma knew it, she was face to face with a slightly harried looking Killian.

After their encounter at Second Star earlier in the morning, Emma had hoped to have a bit more time to process her jumbled thoughts and emotions - but as she’d been actively trying to avoid thinking about how awkward it had been, she hadn’t actually dealt with anything she’d been feeling.

All of which led to more awkwardness now. They stared silently at each other for what felt like an absurdly long amount of time. Killian recovered more quickly, breaking their shared gaze and looking down at his feet for a moment before glancing back up at her. “Swan, I’m glad I bumped into you. You left so quickly this morning, I never got to explain-”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” Emma cut in, acutely aware of the fact they were standing in Granny’s open doorway and David was only a couple of feet behind her. “I had to get to work, you had plans to make. We’re both adults,” she said, dropping her voice so David couldn’t overhear her. “Not everything we do has to revolve around each other’s schedule.”

She’d been aiming for breezy and unaffected, but her tone must have come off as slightly bitter, because Killian flinched before plastering on a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Right, of course. I know that, but I rather enjoy spending time with you, Swan...and I’d hoped you did too,” he muttered, before raising his voice to a more normal pitch and addressing both her and David. “Got to head back now. Smee gets disgruntled if I don’t feed him regularly,” he joked, lightly shaking the bag of food he had clutched in his hand.

He brushed past her gently, giving her one last fleeting, emotion-filled glance before heading down the steps. She didn’t have time to react before he was gone and David was urging her inside.

She muddled her way through lunch, only half paying attention to David’s theories about the art vandal and his stories about what he and Mary-Margaret had done last weekend. She responded in the appropriate places, but part of her attention was elsewhere.

She was still thinking about Killian when they headed back to the station for the rest of their shift. As they walked into the office, Emma’s phone buzzed. Fishing it out, she was a bit nervous to see a text from Killian. But when she read it, the tension she’d unconsciously been carrying leached out of her body and a smile spread across her face.

KJ: Sorry if I was a bit rude when I saw you earlier, Swan. Big business dinner tonight - that slightly scary woman you met this morning is a new client who’s been keeping me on my toes.

She breathed a sigh of relief, which was quickly followed by a cringe of embarrassment - she couldn’t believe she’d been so ready to be jealous of someone who turned out to be a client of Killian’s. She was the one who owed Killian an apology for acting so strangely that morning - but she couldn’t really apologize without explaining why she’d been out of sorts in the first place, and confessing your undying love for your best friend over text message just seemed unbearably like something out of one of Mary-Margaret’s beloved rom coms.

ES: Nothing to apologize for - I was the one who got kinda short with you. Sorry about that, btw. Hope all goes well tonight. Tell me all about it soon. Lunch tomorrow?

His affirmative response came back nearly instantaneously, and Emma smiled. Her day was suddenly looking up, and tomorrow she’d have another chance to try to change things for the better between her and Killian. This time, she wouldn’t screw it up.

Late February-Early June…

Emma didn’t screw up that second chance with Killian - but it wasn’t due to any great show of bravery on her part.

Their lunch the day after their awkward encounter at Granny’s had been interrupted by Leroy, one of the workers at the town’s mine, getting into a fight with a group of bikers. Emma had had to dash out of the diner mid-lunch, apologizing profusely to Killian. He’d understood and they’d agreed to try for a movie night the following week.

But then Henry’d come down with the flu and Emma’d spent two weeks taking care of him and all thoughts of movie nights - and confessing feelings - were strictly off the table. When Henry was finally feeling better, it was Killian’s turn to be less available. The Easter season was always busy at Second Star, and ever since he’d signed the contract to be the main bakery supplier for Zelena and Cruella’s local chain of inns, he’d been flooded with work. He’d had to hire and train two new bakers just to keep up with the orders for the inns so he and Smee could focus on the rest of the bakery’s pre-existing workload.

In the middle of all of that, Elsa had spontaneously visited for Ingrid’s birthday in late April, and, in a move that pretty much confirmed Emma’s suspicions about the two of them, Liam had turned up for an extended vacation around the same time - he’d stayed until almost the middle of May. Killian had been grateful to have the time with his brother (not to mention another set of hands in the bakery - the pair of them had practically been raised in their aunt and uncle’s bakery in England. Liam was almost as skilled as Killian, even if he’d not pursued baking as a career), but by the time Liam had headed back home to London the spring had flown by.

Emma also had been pursuing the artistic vandal all over town. In March, the side wall of the flower shop, Game of Thorns, was painted with “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” from Jane Austen’s Emma. April saw the convent’s garden retaining wall get decorated with a portrait of a woman. Her face was mostly hidden, but her long golden hair seemed to float on an invisible breeze and her arm was outstretched. Most striking of all, she held a vibrant crimson heart in her hand.

In May, the artist (Emma had finally given up on calling him a vandal) was back to Shakespeare. This time it was a quote from Much Ado About Nothing - “I were but little happy if I could say how much. Lady, as you are mine, I am yours” - covering the sidewalk in front of the middle school. The words were outlined and embellished with golden flourishes, and followed by a pair of clasped hands, the fingers interlaced. Something familiar about that image tugged at the back of Emma’s brain, but it refused to cohere into a usable clue.

Emma was still frustrated she couldn’t uncover the artist’s identity - particularly since after the art at Game of Thorns and the convent, it had become clear that whoever this artist was, they intended these messages for her. A little voice in the back of her mind had wondered - at first - if she should be creeped out by that.

But there was just something about this art that was familiar. It made her feel warm and safe, as though the artist’s emotions were bleeding through the work, reaching out, and wrapping around her. It made her feel cherished - she couldn’t bring herself to take a cynical view of it. After several pieces had appeared around town, she created a photo array of them all at the station, and spent far too many hours staring at them when she should have been working.

(If a little voice in the back of her head insisted it was Killian...well, she chalked it up to her own wishful thinking and forced herself to set the thoughts aside).

The last several months had also wrought a difference in her relationship with Killian. Though they’d never really talked about the Valentine’s Day Near Kissing Incident, and the circumstances of their hectic lives had kept Emma from making another serious attempt to discuss her feelings with him, things had slowly and subtly shifted between them.

In the few times they’d been able to spend any significant time together over the past few months, they’d been far more tactile - Killian curling an arm around her shoulder at Ingrid’s birthday party, Emma looping her arm through his as they strolled through the park, his hand on the small of her back as they listened to Liam tell stories about his work, and on and on.

They were almost testing the waters of couplehood without explicitly discussing it - afraid if they examined what they were doing too closely, they wouldn’t have the courage to actually keep doing it.

Emma wasn’t sure what had prompted it, but she was definitely enjoying it - it had made her even more hopeful that when she finally got a damn moment to make her confession, it would be well-received.

But she was beaten to the punch before she could ever put her newfound resolve to the test.

First Saturday in June…

“Hey Mom?” Henry’s voice preceded him down the stairs of their apartment, his heavy footfalls thunking from his room to the kitchen where Emma was sitting at the table enjoying her morning coffee and flipping through the Storybrooke Mirror.

“Yeah, kid?” she replied, looking up as he plopped himself down across from her.

“Could we go to the library today? Like, soon-ish? There’s a couple of books I need for a project, and uh...I really need Belle’s help finding them,” he said, fidgeting as he waited for her reply.

“Why’s it so urgent?” she asked, raising a brow expectantly. She had a feeling that she knew what was coming - she just needed Henry to say it.

“I, uh, didn’t exactly start it as soon as I should and...I can get it done in time, don’t worry!” he reassured her, “but I need to go pick up these books today if I’m going to make it happen,” he said, flashing her his best i’m-cute-and-usually-better-prepared-than-this-so-please-don’t-punish-me-for-leaving-homework-till-the-last-minute-just-this-once grin.

After holding his stare for a moment, Emma shook her head and laughed under her breath. “Sure kid.” She had no doubt Henry would create something amazing, and it really wasn’t like him to leave things late, so she wasn’t worried it would become a habit. “But why do you need me to go? Usually, you head down there on your own.”

“Yeah,” Henry agreed, “but I was kinda hoping we could go to Granny’s for pancakes after.”

“Ahhh, now the truth is revealed,” Emma laughed. She pretended to think for a moment, but really, Henry had gotten to her the moment he’d said pancakes. “Alright, kid. Let’s go.” 

-/-

Emma should’ve suspected something was up when - after they’d finally left the library and headed for the diner- she started getting slightly strange looks from the townsfolk. Everyone was smiling at her, and a few people gave her a thumbs up - most disturbingly, Leroy winked at her.

Shrugging it off and following Henry into Granny’s, she noticed her son was absorbed in his phone, texting with dizzying speed. “What’s up?” she questioned as they slid into a booth.

“Huh?” he looked up for a moment before his phone buzzed and he was engrossed again. “Oh, um, it’s just Avery...we’re trying to figure out plans for tomorrow. He was asking if I could come over for the afternoon. Can I, please?”

“Maybe. If you get that project finished first, okay. Do that and then we’ll talk.”

“That’s fair,” Henry said with a grin as the waitress arrived at their table.

“I’m glad you think so,” Emma said with a chuckle. They ordered and spent the time waiting for their pancakes to arrive chatting about what Henry had done in school the prior week and some of the plans they’d already been making for his summer vacation (which, according to Henry, couldn’t start soon enough).

It wasn’t until Emma was paying their bill that Henry’s phone started buzzing again. He looked at it briefly and fired off a text before they headed out the door. As they descended Granny’s front steps, Henry spoke again. “Mom, do you mind if we walk home by the park?”

“Yeah, sure...You still need to get to your homework as soon as we get home, but I don’t see why not as long as we don’t stay too long,” she agreed. “It’ll help work off the mountain of pancakes we just inhaled.” They turned in the direction of the park, enjoying the warm breeze and dappled sunlight as it fell through the trees lining the wide streets.

Though Emma began to regret agreeing to Henry’s suggestion as even more passers-by shot odd looks and smiles her way. Seriously, what is UP with everyone today?!

She didn’t have much longer to wonder. As they approached the park, Emma saw her name, painted in large, looping curls and swoops, stretching across the sidewalk in front of the main entrance gate. An arrow, outlined in gold, pointed down the walkway leading away from the gate, and she could just make out the clustered shapes of several hearts a few feet beyond that. “What?” she asked, dumbstruck. “Henry, did you know this would be here?” she glanced back at her son, who had stopped a few feet behind her.

Well, this certainly explains all the strange looks.

“Uh, maybe?” he replied sheepishly, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yes, kinda,” he corrected. “Okay, yes.”

“Wait a minute,” she turned back to face him. “Do you know who’s been behind this? Have you known the whole time?”

“Look, Mom...but don’t you want to find out who’s at the other end of that path?” he asked. “I’m going to head home and get started on my project, and,” he continued, seeing she had opened her mouth to interject, “I’ve asked Mary-Margaret to come around and keep an eye on me - so don’t worry. I’ll be fine. Go!” he smiled at her encouragingly and shooed her towards the park entrance.

“Don’t think you’re getting out of telling me every single thing later, Henry David Swan,” she warned, though the grin tugging at the corner of her mouth made her words far less stern than she’d intended. He nodded and took off down the street as she turned back to the park entrance.

She gazed at her name again for a moment before stepping into the park and onto the path. As she followed the arrow to the cluster of hearts, her pulse accelerated and a sense of nervous excitement settled over her. A little further into the park, the path diverged and she looked around in momentary confusion before spotting more words painted on the left-hand path, the one leading towards the gazebo in the center of the park.

“This is it. This is life...” she murmured aloud, reading along with the words. There was something vaguely familiar about the phrasing - it tugged at her memory, and she must have recognized it on some subconscious level, because her pulse kicked up even further.

She followed the path a bit further and saw more words painted on the old, cracking asphalt.

“...And I'm in love with you...I think that's the only thing I've ever really been sure of in my entire life…” she whispered, again reading along with the text. Another group of hearts and another golden arrow followed that part of the quote, which she now recognized was from Garden State.

In that moment, she was certain.

She’d had her suspicions - and hopes - as to who the mystery artist was. But that quote cemented it. Her steps picked up speed as she headed for the last stretch of the path, looking ahead as she approached the gazebo.

There, stretching along the last section of the pathway, were the final words. “... I don't want to waste any more of my life without you in it.” Killian stepped out from under the roof of the gazebo, a small smile on his face. “Hello, Swan,” he murmured.

She didn’t stop moving, she didn’t slow down - in fact she sped up as she got closer to him, and when she reached him, she promptly punched him in the shoulder.

“Oi!” he cried, “what was that for?”

“It was you all this time?!” she shouted. “Do you know how crazy you’ve been driving me?!”

“I’ll have to admit, I’d envisioned you saying something like that - but in a decidedly different tone,” he muttered, wincing a bit and reaching up to rub at where she’d punched him. “Look...I realize this might’ve been a rather...elaborate...way of confessing my feelings...but you have to know, Emma. It’s you...it’s been you for quite some time now, and that’s not going to change.” He raked his hands through his hair, nerves visibly increasing as her silence continued. “I’m trying to say I love you, Swan, and thinking of how to tell you has been bloody terrifying-”

“So you decided to do it in the most public way possible?” she asked, finally finding her voice. “That was a big risk.”

“Aye,” he said, taking a few cautious steps closer to her. He reached out and cupped her face in his hand, his fingers sliding just into the hair behind her ear as his thumb brushed her cheek. “But you deserved the grandest of romantic gestures, love. I was willing to take the chance.”

Her arms wound around his waist as she stepped even closer to him, until there was really no space left between them at all. She took a deep breath. Here goes. “I love you, Killian. It was you...all this time,” she continued, her tone infinitely softer and laced with her abundant affection. She pressed up on her tiptoes, whispering, “do you know how crazy you’ve been driving me?” against his mouth before sealing her lips to his.

They sank into the kiss, their embrace growing closer and closer until Emma’s arms were draped over Killian’s shoulders and his were wrapped firmly around her waist. They had difficulty parting from one another, even when breathing became a pressing issue. They dove back in for kiss after kiss, becoming lost in each other.

It’s really amazing how different this is when you love someone so deeply, Emma thought hazily as Killian nibbled at her lower lip. She gasped sharply at the sensation, his tongue flicking out and soothing the spot before darting into her mouth to curl around her own. Just like that, their kiss took on another dimension, growing more passionate, hotter, wetter, and deeper - and Emma could no longer think at all.

Long moments later, they finally drew back, but kept their foreheads pressed tightly together. As they tried to regain their breath, Emma chuckled.

“What, love?” Killian said, a soft smile on his face.

“Oh, just...clearly Henry was in on this whole thing, I know that much now,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “But you’re going to have to tell me how you pulled all of this off without anyone wanting to press charges over any of the paintings...how much of the town was part of your master plan?”

“Well, love,” he said with a grin, taking every chance he could to use her new nickname. “That sounds like a perfect story for our first date.” He turned and started walking back up the path away from the gazebo, curling his arm around her shoulders when she fell into step next to him. “Can I pick you up tomorrow night at seven?”

She looked up at him, her face feeling like it would split in two from the force of her grin. “That sounds perfect.”

One year later…

The graffiti appeared once again, after another sleepy year in Storybrooke - but this time, Emma had no doubts as to its source. One morning when she opened the door of the seaside cottage she and Henry now shared with Killian, the simple question, Will you marry me, Swan?  looped its way down the front walk to the welcome sight that was Killian, down on one knee, at their gate.

(His smile was bright, his cheeks were flushed, and while one hand held a very particular type of jewelry box, the other nervously tugged at the hair behind his right ear).

Killian grinned when she used her own can of spray paint (shoved in her hand by Henry before he’d nudged her out the door) to write her simple, but perfect, response right next to his knee.

Yes.

[qveersam]

gorgeous

i made this gifset based on taylor swift’s song gorgeous and i kept thinking this could be a fic, so i kinda wrote one??? i haven’t written anything in years and it’s actually my first time writing any fiction in english, so if anyone reads this pls be kind??? lmao it’s nothing special really, but it’s a nice exercise to write in your second language.

there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you are so gorgeous it makes me so mad

- “gorgeous” by ts

wincest; 1.6k; first kiss; dean is angry bc sam is pretty [ao3]

It took Sam some time to notice. At first, he brushed it off as Dean’s usual annoyed stares. When you spent almost every hour of the day with your brother, you were bound to get on each other’s nerves. He knew that, specially since he and Dean had that strange magnetic field between them, pulling them close even when they didn’t want to. And he could totally admit he was probably almost as annoying as Dean, no matter what his brother might like to say about him thinking he was better than everyone else. What Sam thought was weird, though, was that he kept catching Dean staring angrily at him even when they hadn’t argued in God knows how long. Even on those good weeks, after a particularly good hunt or after a couple of days off. He was pretty sure he wasn’t that annoying, at least not enough to deserve so many glowering looks anyway.

It was a beautiful and warm morning when Sam finally accepted Dean was angry at him for some reason. There wasn’t any reason for Dean to be pissy that day. They’d decided to take the day to do some research, even though they both knew that was just an excuse to sleep in, watch crappy movies and take proper care of some injuries that wouldn’t heal no matter what they did. Maybe they could even use the motel pool Dean was always so excited about, even though Sam thought was too gross to go in. It was the perfect day for them to just be them. No drama, no demons, no dying people. Just them taking care of each other like they used to, talking about nothing and everything over half drank beers.

So of course Sam was surprised when he came back to the motel after getting breakfast and was greeted with an eye roll from Dean. No good morning, no thanks, Sammy. Just an eye roll and an annoyed snort.

“Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?” Sam set the greasy bags on the dirty looking side table and turned to his brother with what he knew was his signature bitchy expression. Dean stopped on his way to the table, and had at least the decency to look guilty for a couple of seconds. He returned to himself quickly enough, setting with his now usual cranky mood. He brushed past Sam and grabbed a donut.

“Nothin’. What else ya got there? Smells good.” And just like that, Sam was expected to drop it. He knew how much his brother hated talking about stuff and would very much prefer to just keep things bottled up until he exploded and ended up punching Sam. And hell, Sam was sick and tired of acting careful around Dean and then pissing him off anyway. He really needed to find out what the hell he did wrong this time.

His answer came that afternoon, their speeches slurred from the alcohol. The sun kept getting hotter as the hours passed so, without a working AC on the room, their obvious solution had been to get drunk off their asses. They were lying each on their bed, watching The Fly on the old TV set, talking and joking, a nice change from the past days. On one of the long commercial breaks, Sam for once decided to get them something stronger from the mini frigde. He was still laughing over something stupid Dean said and had already forgotten about, when he grabbed two glasses of cheap whiskey and gave one for his brother.

Sam laid back on the bed, leaving his own glass forgotten for a moment, and stretched, the hem of his t-shirt getting caught and revealing some of his stomach, trying to find a more comfortable position to finish his drink. That’s when he saw Dean looking at him, his expression slowly turning into one of his scowls. Sam saw his brother turn his face away from him as soon as he realized he’d been caught, a slight blush rising on his cheeks. Dean dragged his hand across his face and he quickly took his glass of whiskey, clenched jaws and furrowed eyebrows, avoiding Sam’s eyes. Sam just kept looking at him. They were having a nice time, weren’t they? He couldn’t turn his eyes away from Dean, wondering what had gone wrong. This time it was Sam staring, he knew Dean would snap at him in approximately 10 seconds if he didn’t stop. So he didn’t.

“Will you please just tell me what I did, Dean? I can’t put up with your pissy face forever”, he said jokingly, only to receive an annoyed huff. Alright, not in the mood then, he thought.

“Already said it’s nothin’, Sam. Just let it go.”

“Yeah, right. I know how much you love projecting your bullshit on me, Dean. I’m not your own personal punching bag or some shit”, Sam probably would have sounded a lot more convincing if he weren’t mispronouncing every other word. Damn you, alcohol. “Can we talk like grown ups instead of acting like passive agressive teenagers for once, Dean?” Sam rolled his eyes and Dean kept quiet for some time, trying his best to ignore him.

“Will you stop staring? ‘s not helping, y’know?”, he turned to Sam with an exasperated growl, rolling his eyes again. Dean looked back to the TV, adding in an almost inaudible whisper, “That fuckin’ face, man. I can’t fuckin’ look at that fuckin’ face anymore. Fuckin’ pretty boy or whatever.”

Sam almost choked on his drink, staring at Dean’s profile as he finished the whiskey at a single gulp. “What’s that about my face?”, Sam’s voice was almost amused now, not sure what he’d heard. Had he heard it? No way. Right? He’s totally way too drunk right now. Dean would never say that. Right?

Dean turned back to Sam looking both agressive and caught at the same time. He practically threw his empty glass back on the bed before standing up and pacing on the small space between their beds. He passed his fingers on his short hair, rolled his eyes yet again – Sam swore was going to fucking kill him if Dean did that one more time – and stopped, glaring at Sam.

“Your face, Sam. Think you can just go around looking like that? I-I mean… What the fuck, y’know? My baby brother has no business lookin’ like a fuckin’ model every time I look at him”, Dean sounded frustrated and Sam couldn’t close his fucking mouth he was so shocked. “And then, I mean… whatcha trynna do here? Gimme a fuckin’ heart attack every time you smile with those fuckin’ dimples and all? Gonna fuckin’ kill me one of these days. I can’t look at you, I’m gonna fuckin’ punch you or somethin’.”

“Okay, so lemme get this straight… You’re angry with me because I look... good?”, Sam couldn’t keep the disbelieve from his voice.

“No, Sammy! I’m angry with you because you’re fuckin’ gorgeous. For fuck’s sake. Fuckin’ gorgeous, man. Look at your face!”, and then he wasn’t looking at Sam anymore. He turned shyly away from his brother and ran his hand through his hair again. “You’re so gorgeous it makes me so fuckin’ mad, Sam. Y’know I always hate what I can’t have.”

The alcohol burned in Sam’s stomach. Was that for real? His stupid beautiful brother, with those very stupid green eyes and freckles and that obscene mouth of his… calling him gorgeous? What a weird choice of word, by the way, but he’d worry about it later. He held his breath for a moment, waiting for that information to fully sink in. Dean seemed to be holding his breath too. Waiting. Expecting. None of them knew what, but definitely something. For a moment, Sam forgot about everything around them. Past and present became an irrelevant mess, everything leading to them right in that room. What did anything matter now? Sam had basically just heard Dean wanted him. And thought he couldn’t have him. How could his own flesh and blood be so unbelievably dumb sometimes?

“Who says you can’t have me?”

Dean turned to Sam with his eyes confused and pleading. The air felt suddenly very heavy with the weight of possibility, the whole universe concentrated around them, in every inch of space between them, inside them. Sam felt the strong pull towards his brother he always did his best to ignore as he got up from the bed and walked the few steps until he reached Dean. He almost jumped when Sam touched his shoulder, a shiver passing both of them, as if all of the touches and looks and moments between them were enough to cause an electric storm right there in the space between their skins. A million thoughts were racing in Sam’s head as he closed the space between their mouths, and then they went quiet all at once. The only thing he could think about were those lips under his, the way Dean immediately put his hands on Sam’s neck, bringing them closer together, their mouths opening up for each other.

“You’re gorgeous too, Dean”, Sam managed to say between kisses, smiling because he thought he actually understood the word choice. There couldn’t be another word to describe Dean. Or to describe them. Together.