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kwanisms · 6 years ago

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Personal Trainer - lhs

⤑ genre: smut/ personal trainer!au ⤑ pairing: Hoseok x Reader ⤑ warning: face fucking, slight?? degradation, some overstim, sir kink ⤑ summary: when your best friend begs you to go to the gym with her, you’re convinced she’s trying to set you up with her personal trainer and after seeing him, you might just be okay with that. ⤑ word count: 7.6k

a/n: i can’t believe it’s been so long since i posted this piece! i decided to revamp my blog and my openings got a huge makeover. all oneshots and drabbles now have title cards! anyway, thank you all for the attention you’ve shown this piece and in light of recent events, i’m reblogging this to celebrate the good news about our Wonho! ~K

It was a well known fact you detested the gym. You hated the wandering eyes of the overly buff wannabe bodybuilders who clearly didn’t need to be there but instead were hoping to pick up women with their overcompensation. You hated the judging stares you received when you stopped running as if everyone else deemed it too soon for you to quit. Of course, you could be entirely wrong and they probably weren’t thinking about you at all.

Still, you disliked the dirty looks girls gave you when you walked a little too close to their boyfriends as if you were going to snatch them and run; no one wants your poodle, honey, you thought as a girl with her long blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail stood protectively in front of her boyfriend with his poofy and curly locks, sending a menacing glare your way. So it came as no shock that you refused to accompany your best friend, Emily, to the private gym at the country club her family belonged to.

You found yourself at one of the loudest and most popular clubs Friday night listening to her pleas as you tried to enjoy yourself and let loose after a taxing work week.“Please!! I could really use the encouragement and you could use the workout,” she said, giving you a once over. “Wow, thanks Emily, that wasn’t contumelious or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh come on, (Y/N). You would be so much hotter than you are now if you had a killer body!” she said stirring her drink before raising it to her lips.”And stop using obscure words like some vocabulary hipster. I’m not best friends with a dictionary. Well,” she paused before her eyes turned back to you, a smirk present on her face. “Unless you count as one.” You smacked her arm, bursting into giggles as the music with loud pulsing bass swirled around you.

Emily had always been a very outspoken, very honest, and extremely blunt. It was never her intentions to hurt someone’s feelings, but more times than naught that was the result. You had been friends since you could walk. You knew each other better than anyone. You downed the rest of your drink and stood to make your way over to the bar and order another, Emily’s words still fresh in your mind. Returning to.your table, drink in hand, the words that next came out of your best friend’s mouth made it all too clear why she wanted you at the gym.

“Please just come with me! The new personal trainer is really hot!” Ahhh, there it was. You smirked as she revealed her true intentions to you. “You just want me to be your wingman, don’t you?!” you feigned shock, lacing your voice with mock betrayal. “Actually, he’s more your type than mine,” Emily said, playing with a stand of her hair absentmindedly. This piqued your interest and you sighed. It couldn’t hurt to go and have a look, right? “Fiiiiine,” you say, drawing out the vowel and your best friend smiled half in glee, half in triumph and you almost regretted your submission.

Almost.

The next day, dressed in some simple black leggings, your sports bra, an oversized long sleeve shirt, and your sneakers, you were in Emily’s car and ready to get this over with. The night before, still fresh in your mind, you mentally prepared yourself to deal with Emily’s whining about how hungover she was when she had all of 3 drinks. She pulled into a parking spot near the entrance and the two of you got out.

You looked up at the natural stone façade of the massive complex, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder. The grounds were huge, a massive golf course spanning the sprawling hills outside. The drive up to the building was a long path hidden behind a huge line of trees, as if this place was hidden inside some dense forest when really, it was just inside a huge, heavily wooded city park. The cars parked in the perfectly painted spaces were all models you would never be able to afford with your measly salary as a bank manager.

Ferrari, Lamborghini, and BMWs. Think of any fancy car and they were all there. You had an intrusive thought of a middle aged woman driving her BMW to the grocery store to buy milk and tried to keep a giggle inside. You walked through the massive double doors with wrought iron and glass framed by thick, heavy black wood. Inside was just was grand as the outside with vaulted ceilings, polished marble floors, and dark wood paneling on the walls. The place screamed high class and reeked of old money.

A massive crystal chandelier hung in the waiting area that was much larger than your one bedroom apartment. The marble on the floors was mirrored in the huge receptionist counter and a small, a girl in her late teens sat behind it. The patrons inside a small cafe area sat around small round glass top bistro style tables sipping on their caramel machiafrappuchinos or whatever the latest coffee trend was and you swore they looked at you with disdain when you passed by, as if you were some dirty thing hellbent on mucking up their precious club. Emily approached the reception desk to sign in and smiled at the teen behind the counter.

“I’ve brought a guest today,” she said sweetly. The receptionist sighed as if Emily was demanding she perform like a monkey for her, pulled out a clipboard with a sign in sheet for guests and jabbed it out at you. Taking the clipboard, you signed in quickly, handed it back, and then proceeded to follow Emily through the massive club to the gym. Inside it was moderately sized, filled with various workout equipment.

On one end was a wall of mirrors with racks of free weights standing in front of them. To one side behind the treadmills were floor to ceiling windows that gave a view of the vast golf course you had seen from the parking lot. Several patrons were enjoying a day of golf on this mild autumn day. On the wall opposite the windows were several doors leading into smaller rooms, each door with a little plaque next to it giving insight as to what was inside.

There were only 4 people in the gym; a middle aged woman, a young man, Emily, and yourself. The woman sported a very blunt, black bob haircut that barely reached past her chin, strands of grey littered her pin straight locks. She moved at a steady pace on one of the ellipticals, her eyes trained on the television screen in front of her, old reruns of Grey’s Anatomy or some other soap opera playing. The only man in the room sat by one of the doors into a private room, his eyes glued to his phone. He had probably the most incredible body you’d had ever seen.

He was ripped. Arms, chest, thighs, calves, you name it, he had it. He wore black knee length basketball shorts over grey compression pants, a black compression shirt, and a black baseball cap. On the floor next to him was a grey duffle bag, a black semi transparent water bottle resting on top. Suddenly, you felt very self conscious of your body and tried to unsuccessfully hide behind your own gym bag.

Emily shook her head, her long black hair swaying and she marched up to the man. He looked up and your heart nearly stopped. He was so handsome. His eyes shone brightly and his face broke into the sweetest smile. He pocketed his phone as he stood up.

“Hi, Emily, right?” he asked extending his arm, offering one if his large hands. She smiled and nodded, shaking his hand. “This is my friend, (Y/N), she’ll be joining us today.” You stepped forward shyly as the man held his hand out and offered you a warm smile. You were painfully aware of how your heart was hammering in your chest, wondering if anyone else could hear it, because damn, it was loud in your ears. When you took his hand and shook it, there was no other way to describe it; your body ignited, as if you were the latest victim of spontaneous human combustion.

His eyes locked with your own and suddenly you found it nearly impossible to form any coherent sentences. The intensity of his stare sent blood rushing to places you didn’t exactly want it to. Damn it, you were screwed. Instead you nodded politely and returned his smile. He dropped your hand, and your body whined at the loss of contact.

“A pleasure to meet you ladies, my name is Hoseok.” You made a mental note of how his name sounded. “The pleasure is ours, Hoseok,” Emily smiled, and when Hoseok leaned over to pick up his bag, she looked at you and mouthed the words “oh my god!” You gave her a stern look, mouthing back “stop it!” and dropped it when Hoseok stood straight again.

He led the two of you into the private room he sat by, shutting the door behind you, making sure to hang the occupied sign in place. Inside the room was larger than you had anticipated. The floor was the same as outside in the main gym, that soft spongy material, there were medium blue mats hanging on the wall to the left of the door as you entered and they vaguely reminded you of the mats that hung in the gym in elementary school.

In the far left corner of the room, next to a large mirror that took up the entire wall across from the door, was a simple door that you suspected was a closet holding various workout equipment. Hoseok dropped his bag in the corner, facing away from you but you could see his face in the reflection of the mirror. He removed his hat and his blonde hair fell, bangs falling into his eyes. You hadn’t noticed you had been staring until Emily cleared her throat.

“(Y/N), you can put your bag over here,’ she said and you tie your gaze away from Hoseok’s reflection but you could have sworn his eyes met yours briefly before you turned away and set your bag next to Emily’s, bending to grab your own water bottle. Emily knelt down, pretending to busy herself with something in her bag. “Don’t get caught staring,” she whispered so low you almost didn’t hear her.

Clearing your throat with a grunt, you stood straight and turned around to find Hoseok had already turned to face you. His eyes were trained on you, the ends of his mouth curled up as if he was trying to fight a smile. Emily followed you to the center of the room as she pulled all her hair up into a bun on top of her head. Hoseok tore his gaze away and moved to open the closet, retrieving three yoga mats. You glared at Emily and she smiled sheepishly at you. Yoga had not been part of the agreement.

You had virtually no balance whatsoever and now you were expected to contort your body while maintaining your balance in front of this incredibly handsome stranger. No way. Not happening. Hoseok motioned for the two of you to join him and gestured at the mats. “Have a seat.” You followed Emily, who sat without hesitation. She grinned broadly as Hoseok sat on the mat in front of you and led you through a series of light stretches, warming you up before the workout began.

Hoseok had you remove your shoes and socks and stand on the mats, showing you the first yoga pose. It was relatively simple enough. You had to stand still. You could do that. “Press your toes into the mat and bring your shoulders back further,” Hoseok said softly behind you, his hands resting gently on your shoulders and he lightly pulled signaling you to stand up straight. You complied, your skin burning under his touch and you were certain he could tell. If the smile on his face wasn’t a dead giveaway, then the way one of his hands lingered on your shoulder after he had already corrected your posture definitely should have given him away.

The next pose had you standing, feet wide apart, arms open, and you had to admit you felt like a real idiot. Hoseok attended to Emily, correcting her feet before focusing his attention on you. He complimented your feet being in the right position but he gently grasped your hips to move them in the right position and you couldn’t hide the involuntary gasp that left your mouth when his large hands touched you.

He either didn’t notice, or he didn’t choose to notice but instead remained professional as he continued to correct your position. When he pulled away and circled around you to make sure you were doing the pose right he stopped in front of you and you dared not look up at him. This man was driving you crazy.

Hoseok moved into the next pose that had you sitting on the floor, legs together in front of you, and you had to bend your body in half. Emily, being the flexible former cheerleader, had no problems. You however had great difficulty. You were not on the cheerleading squad in high school, instead opting to focus more on your studies. Hoseok knelt behind you, “may I?” he asked and you nodded, trying to hide the blush that crept across your face.

His hands were gentle as he slowly pushed you into position, stopping every so often to make sure it wasn’t too much. One hand on between your shoulder blades, the other at the small of your back. “If it’s too much, let me know. I don’t want to overwork you,” he said softly, his voice caring and sweet, mimicking the gentleness of his hands. You winced, feeling a burn in your hamstrings you’ve never felt before.

“Are you alright?” he asked, leaning in closer, his breath fanning the back of your neck. You could smell his cologne. A light airy scent that on it’s own wouldn’t affect you but mixed with another heavier scent, possibly arousal, you felt dizzy. You nodded quickly hoping it would end soon. Hoseok smiled and patted your back. “Alright, you can sit up now,” he said, his hands falling from your back as he stood and returned to the front of the room. He put his shoes and socks back on, signaling the yoga session was over.

You and Emily also replaced your footwear before standing and allowing Hoseok to roll up the yoga mats, returning them to the small closet. You took the reprieve to down some water before moving on to the next part. The next part was cardio. You left the small room and back out into the now empty gym. He motioned for you to join him at two of the treadmills.

He set the workout for you and let you get into position. You pulled your earbuds up into your ears, pressing play on your phone before starting off at a mild walking pace. After a couple moments, the walking pace sped up into a light run. You tried to focus on anything that wasn’t Hoseok’s face, ultimately focusing your eyes on one of the television screens.

You could see Hoseok watching you and Emily carefully out of the corner of your eye. His gaze lingered on you longer than you thought was necessary but eventually he tore his gaze away. He checked his watch as your pace slowed to a brisk walking pace and you tried to catch your breath. You continued, following the preset workout, keeping your eyes ahead but glancing slyly at Hoseok.

Finally the treadmill slowed to a stop and you worked to catch your breath, taking huge gulps of water in between breaths. Emily gave you a big cheeky grin as Hoseok led you the rack with the free weights. “See? This isn’t so bad,” she said as she picked up her water and downed a few gulps.

Maybe she was fine, but your body was screaming. You were so incredibly turned on by this man who had been touching you, albeit innocently, all morning. You felt as if your body would explode if you didn’t find release soon. Hoseok grabbed two sets of hand weights that were on the smaller side and showed you both the next part. You tried your best to mimic him, wanting to avoid as much skin contact his correcting would bring.

You did well up until the start of your third repetition. “You need to stand up straight, (Y/N),” Hoseok said chuckling and pressing his hand to the small of your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You visibly shuddered and immediately felt mortified. Hoseok said nothing, clearly choosing to ignore it because there was no way he didn’t notice. You finished your workout with the weights and moved on to squats.

Hoseok handed Emily a medium sized kettlebell and she set off, needing no correction. When your turn came, Hoseok showed you how to stand and gave you advice on how to keep your balance while squatting. “Keep your back straight, lower with your legs and lift with your heels. Keep your heels planted. Try not to lift them,” he said with a kind smile and handed you the kettlebell.

While you did your squats, Emily went to refill your and her water bottles. You lowered yourself down, feeling Hoseok’s gaze burning into the side of your face. “No, you’re going to hurt yourself if you keep doing that,” he said and moved behind you. He corrected your position and gently lowered you, his hands guiding your body and you struggled to breathe evenly, letting out shaky breaths. Hoseok noticed because he ended your set early and let Emily finish hers when she returned. Your face set ablaze from embarrassment, Hoseok led the two of you back to the private room.

The next exercise required regular mats that he pulled from the wall and set down. Hoseok picked up two medicine balls and handed them to you and Emily. He sat between the two of you, demonstrating a movement called a Russian twist with your medicine ball. You watched in awe, your eyes trailing up his arms, across his chest, and down his stomach to his thighs as he twist back and forth, showing you exactly what to do.

He handed your ball back and immediately Emily started, mirroring his demonstration perfectly. You tried to get into the right position but found you could not keep your balance for more than a few seconds. Futilely, you keep trying, eager to show you could do it, but ultimately failing with a loud sigh. Hoseok knelt down next to you and reached out.

With one hand on the middle of your back, he encouraged you to try again and you did, his hand supporting your back and allowing you to execute a couple twists. You could see Emily’s smirk out of the corner of your eye but you tried your best to ignore her and the obvious heat emanating from his hand and spreading throughout your body, a flush forming on your face. You hoped Hoseok would think the pink tinge to your cheeks was from your exertion and not the fact that he was touching you. After a few more reps, the Russian twist part was done. Emily stood closely as Hoseok returned the mat to the wall, Velcro to Velcro.

“I think he’s noticed how badly you want him,” she whispered so softly only you could hear yet you still shot her a warning glare. “You want him too, I know you do,” she added and pulled away, smiling brightly as if nothing happened the moment Hoseok turned toward the pair of you. There was a knock on the door and Hoseok called out a “yes?”

The receptionist opened the door, an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but your car is being towed, miss,” she said looking at Emily who immediately yelled out a “what?!” “I tried to stop them but something about unpaid tickets and parking in a handicapped spot.” Emily cursed softly as she rushed out of the room, grabbing her bag and let the door shut behind her, not even sparing you a second glance.

Suddenly you were aware of how small the room was, Hoseok standing behind you. You slowly turned to him to find his eyes were already trained on you. “So, uh, do we just wait for her?” you ask softly, not sure if she was going to return. Hoseok said nothing, eyes glued on your face, his expression unreadable. You glanced around nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

You swayed awkwardly, trying to form a sentence. “Should I just go?” you asked and again were met with silence. You took that as a sign and moved to pack up your belongings. As you bent over, a soft voice called out “don’t,” and you turned to look at Hoseok. He was leaning against the mirror, arms crossed over his chest. “Don’t what?” you asked, your voice small. “Don’t bend over like that,” he said, his voice deeper than before.

His tone was commanding, his eyes dark as his stare bore through you. When you didn’t speak, he pushed off the wall, making his way slowly towards you. “If you bend over like that again, I won’t be able to stop myself.” His gaze was almost predatory as he stalked forward, the intensity of it, sent heat rushing to your core.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Hoseok’s lips twitched as a smirk appeared. “You think I didn’t notice? How often your eyes wandered? How your body reacted every time I touched you? How your breath caught in your throat? I’m not blind, sweetheart, and you’re not very subtle.” The amused hint to his voice caught your attention and immediately, heat spreading across your face. He slowly backed you into the wall, reaching out to rest his hands on each side of your head and leaning into you. You didn’t dare look up to meet his eyes.

“I can tell you want me,” his voice was a deadly whisper and still you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid of what might happen if you did. “Look at me at me,” he commanded and you found yourself submit to him, obedient to his words. The moment your eyes met his, your lips parted as a soft whimper left your throat. The look on his face had you melting immediately. The darkness in his eyes hooded with what you could only assume was lust sent shivers down your spine, your core tightening with want, no… with need.

Hoseok searched your gaze, no doubt looking for any sign of discomfort before he spoke. “If you want me to stop,” his hand left the wall and gently, caressed the side of your neck as he made his way down your side, stopping at your hip. “Tell me and I will.” You sighed as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, rubbing light circles against the skin of your side.

You didn’t want him to stop so you shook your head and said in a whisper, “don’t stop.” Expecting him to crash his lips to yours, you braced for impact but it never came, instead his lips pressed softly against your cheek, slowly making their way toward your lips in light, chaste kisses before he paused, lips centimeters from yours. He was giving you one last chance to change your mind.

Any inhibitions you might have had before were now long gone with his skin against yours. You wasted no time, uncertain if Emily would return, and closed the distance, placing a quick peck. You were merely testing, not sure of how to progress. Hoseok’s hand moved to the back of your neck and pulled you back into him, deepening the kiss. Your hands resting on his sides, you moved your lips against his. It was a slow sensual kiss. The hand that wasn’t on your neck, was roaming, examining your body. He pressed his body into yours, pushing you against the wall before he rolled his hips into yours and you gasped.

He took that opportunity to slip his tongue past your parted lips and explore. Your hands moved over him with as much enthusiasm as he showed and you settled for resting them on his broad shoulders. Hoseok’s hand snaked down to your thigh and lifted, wrapping it around his hip as he pushed against you again, eliciting a moan from you.

He smiled into the kiss and rocked his hips against yours again, enjoying the sounds of your moans, knowing it was all because of him. It fueled his ego and his lips left yours to pass over your cheek until he reached your neck and started to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear. A quiet whimper escaped you as Hoseok soothed over the irritated skin with his tongue before he sucked which would leave a purplish bruise the next day. His hand that wasn’t holding your hip braced against the wall as he continued you grind into you and tease your neck. You moved your hips to match his rhythm and moaned loudly at the sensation, leaning your head back.

Hoseok bit harshly where your shoulder and neck met and you whined. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. Unless you want everyone to know what a needy slut you are,” he hissed in your ear. Your core tightened at his words, walls clenching around nothing. He pulled away, inspecting your face to see if he hadn’t crossed a line but you encouraged him to continue. He let your leg drop before grabbing you by the wrist and leading you out of the private room, leaving all your stuff behind.

He dragged you through the empty gym to the locker room. Your body burned with anticipation as Hoseok pulled you into one of the showers and shut the curtain before pouncing on you, meeting your lips hungrily. He pulled the hem of your shirt up above your breasts before pulling away and tearing the offending top off, discarding it somewhere on the floor of the shower before latching his lips to yours again. He cupped your cheeks with his hands and backed you against the cool tile.

Your fingers locked in his hair, willing him closer though the was no more empty space between you. Hoseok’s hand moved over your chest, lightly grasping your breast, causing you to groan and lean into his touch. He squeezed and caught your lower lip between his teeth. You suppressed a moan and tugged on his locks, a soft groan rising up from his throat. He pulled back and removed his own shirt, adding it to the ever growing pile of clothes.

You released your grip on his hair and allowed your hands to wander, smoothing over his muscles, your eyes following every curve. Hoseok slipped his hand under your sports bra and your gasped at the feeling of his warm palm against your sensitive nipple. He rocked more forcefully against your hips, his erection digging into your pelvis.

“This needs to come off,” he said in a deep husky tone that dripped with lust and conveyed his desire for you. He pulled at the waistband of your leggings. “May I?” he asked and you nodded slowly, watching as he tucked his thumbs under the elastic and slid your leggings down to your ankles. His eyes traveled slowly up your body, stopping momentarily at your black lace panties, before continuing up to lock your eyes in an intense heated gaze. As he watched your chest rising and falling due to your labored breaths, Hoseok stood again before learning into you, pressing a kiss to your lips, positioning his thigh between your legs, and pushed up against your sex.

A soft cry skipped past your lips at the contact and you shivered. Hoseok smirked, resting his hands on your hip and pushed you down on him, guiding your hips to rock against his muscular thigh. You gasped, closing your eyes and losing yourself to the feeling. Hoseok chuckled above you and you snapped your eyes open. “Look at you,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“Getting yourself off on my thigh. Are you that desperate?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His hands left your hips and reached up to push your bra up, exposing your breasts. You flushed red and looked away from his gaze. His chuckled reverberated off the tile and he pulled his thigh away.

“Which would you rather have, sweetheart; my thigh or my cock?” his eyes had a mischievous glint in his eyes. Your eyes flitted down toward the prominent bulge in his shorts. You reached a hand between you, palm resting against his erection. “You mean this cock?” you purred. Hoseok’s eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted, a soft moan fell from his open mouth.

You relished in your power over him temporarily before he gripped your wrist tightly and his eyes snapped open, finding yours instantly. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for it,” he hissed, taking both of your hands above your head and pinning them in one of his own hands before letting his free one slide down your body, stopping to punch one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger. You whined and pushed your hips against his. Hoseok grinned and dipped his head to take the other sensitive bud in his mouth, toying it with his tongue while his hand on your breast kneaded it.

You lean your head back into the wall, letting out another moan, and winced when Hoseok bit down on your chest. “Shut up, or else everyone will hear what a whiny whore you are.” You pressed your thighs together at his words and Hoseok resumed his ministrations. He pulled back, capturing your lips in another hearted kiss, tongues dancing together. His hand left your chest and continued down your body until he cupped your heat.

You held in a gasp as his fingers moved, pressing against your soaked panties, rolling in agonizingly slow waves. You whimpered, muffled by his lips, at his touch. “You’re soaked right through your pretty lace panties. Do you want me that badly, babygirl?” You rolled your hips against his hand, desperate for some friction. “Use your words,” Hoseok mused. “Yes. I want you,” you breathed.

“Tsk, that won’t do. ‘Yes, I want you, sir.’ Say it again and say it right, sweetheart,” Hoseok corrected you. You moaned when his fingers pressed harder into your wet folds, still not giving you pressure where you wanted it the most. “Y-yes, I want you, sir,” you pleaded. Hoseok gave in and delved his hand into your panties, sliding a finger along your wetness.

His skin made contact with your clit and started rubbing slow circles against it. Your breathing came out shallow, your chest working overtime. Hoseok smiled against your skin, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck as he continued to tease you. “Please,” you gasped, trying to wriggle your wrists free. “Let me touch you, sir.” Hoseok contemplated giving in but decided against it.

“You get to touch when you prove that you can be a good girl,” he smirked, letting his finger flitted over your entrance cause you to shudder. “Should I give you what you want? I don’t know if you deserve it.” You tried to rock your hips against his hand but he pulled back. “If you can’t even stay still, how can I trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

You whined, pleading with your eyes. “I’m sorry, sir. I promise I’ll be good,” you mewled. Hoseok bit his lip, the corners curling up. “You promise? If you don’t follow through, if you break your promise, I’ll have no choice but to punish you, sweetheart,” he growled and your body shook with want. “I know, sir.” Hoseok’s hand was back in your panties, finger pressed to your clit again. You moaned, arching your back. He slipped a finger inside your wet pussy and slowly pumped the digit in and out of you, eyes on your face, watching your reaction. He added another finger, picking up the pace as he fucked you with his fingers, palm rubbing against your clit.

Your moans grew in volume, bouncing off the tile walls. Hoseok pulled his hand away before your orgasm could come to fruition and wrapped his fingers around your throat, gently, carefully cutting off your air supply. “Since you can’t keep quiet, I guess I’m going to have to fill that pretty mouth of yours.” A dark blush swept over your face at his words and he released his grip on your throat. “On your knees, now,” he commanded. You were surprised by how quickly you complied, sliding down the wall until your knees met the cold unforgiving floor. Hoseok rid himself of his shorts and compression pants, leaving him in only his boxer briefs. Your eyes trailed up and down his body, taking in every curve of his muscles.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” he asked bemused. You gulped as he returned to you, taking your chin in his hand and brushed his thumb over your swollen bottom lip. “Open your mouth,” he barked and you obeyed him, your core tightening as you watched him palm himself over his boxers.

“You look so pretty on your knees in front of me, mouth open like the cockslut you are.” You refrained from moaning like you wanted to, certain he might not give you what you wanted. You watched Hoseok stroked himself over his underwear, watching your every move like a hawk. “Arms behind your back,” he said and again, you obeyed instantly. It was arousing how much control his words had.

You watched in awe as Hoseok slowly removed his underwear and his hard cock sprang free. You tried to hold back a low moan but with your mouth open, it met no resistance. Hoseok glanced up at you with a lopsided grin before he let his boxers drop to his ankles and stepping out of them. He stood before you, holding himself at the base of his member, tip leaking with pre-cum and you tried to hold back from flinging yourself at him.

You wait for instruction which came swiftly. “Tongue out,” he said in a low voice. You surrendered to him and stuck your tongue out, his cock dangerously close to your mouth now. You inhaled deeply and slowly, Hoseok set the head of his dick on your tongue before moving slowly inside your mouth.

You moved to brace yourself against his thighs but he hissed “you don’t get to touch yet. Hands behind your back, sweetheart.” You clasped your hands together behind your back as Hoseok moved deeper into your mouth. He groaned at the sensation of your wet mouth around his throbbing member and pushed inside further still.

You felt the tip of his cock nearing the back of your throat and tried to keep your breathing steady. He stilled inside you, letting you adjust to the intrusion, his hand brushing a few strands of your hair out of your face before gripping your locks. He slowly pulled out and gently thrust into your mouth, his cock barely hitting the back of your throat.

You fought against your gag reflex as he continued to thrust into your mouth. You tried to keep your jaw as relaxed as possible, timing your breaths. Hoseok thrust deeper into your mouth, now fully hitting the back of your throat, his hand in your hair holding you in place, another hand placed against the wall, bracing himself. Another hit to the back of your throat and you gagged again.

The lewd sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat repeatedly filled the locker room before he shoved in and stilled, his cock buried in your throat. You swallowed around them, the sensation sending shivers up Hoseok’s back, his head thrown back as he let out a loud moan.

You tried to hold out as long as you could, your breath slowly running out. Hoseok pulled back and you gasped trying to catch your breath, saliva running down your chin before Hoseok pressed the head of his cock to your lips. “You aren’t done,” he growled and thrust back in once you opened your mouth.

Your tongue brushed against the vein that along the underside of his dick and he moaned again, ramming back into your mouth before pushing your head until you settled at the base of his cock, effectively cutting off your air supply again. You swallowed and Hoseok grunted, staying completely still. “Almost,” he said. Your lungs cried for air and as you tried pulling back to breathe, an impossible feat because of the strong grip he had on your hair, Hoseok let out a loud drawn out moan mixed with a slew of curses as he came, his hot release shooting down your throat.

Hoseok pulled out once he had finished, panting heavily while you coughed as air met your lungs again. You fell forward, hands moving to brace yourself against the cold floor. “Holy shit, that was amazing,” Hoseok said breathlessly. He knelt down next to you and wiped your drool of your chin before he pulled you up and moved you to the small seat inside the shower.

Sitting you down on the edge, he pulled your panties off, discarding them and knelt between your thighs. “What are you doing?” you asked looking down at him. “Rewarding you,” he said with a mischievous grin before leaning forward and pressing light kisses to your knees. His lips trailed along the inside of your thigh, stopping to bite and suck purplish bruises in the sensitive flesh. Your hands moved to run your fingers through his hair and he pulled back.

“No touching, not yet,” he said and resumed his teasing before moving to the other thigh and repeating the same actions. You moaned when his lips ghosted over your wet sex and he smiled before pressing a kiss to your abdomen just under your belly button. “Please don’t tease me, sir,” you whimpered, not forgetting to call him by his preferred title. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Hoseok chuckled lowly before throwing your left thigh over his shoulder and giving you a soft kitten lick. You tasted even better than you smelled and he leaned in for one more little lick before spreading your lips and focusing his attention at the small bundle of nerves. He wrapped his lips around it, the tip of his tongue flicking against it lightly and you let out a high pitched moan placing your hands palms flat on the seat on other side of you and leaned back against the tile. Hoseok alternated between licking and sucking on your clit while his free hand roamed, traveling up to your breast and cupped it, his fingers kneading into it. You whimpered while he continued, eating you out as if it was his last meal.

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar coil inside your groin telling you that your orgasm was building. As if Hoseok knew by some miracle, his hand left your breast and moved down to ease two fingers inside of you, pumping at a steady rhythm. He pulled back, grinning up at you, your juices glistened on his chin. “You taste so good, sweetheart,” he said, his voice husky and you felt your core tighten at his praise.

He returned to your clit, flattening his tongue as he licked harshly against it. He softly nibbled and you cried out. He added a third digit, moving faster as he repeatedly rammed them into you. Your hips bucked to meet his hand and another moan tore from your throat, which was now hoarse from his cock being so far down it before.

Hoseok used his shoulders to nudge your legs, silently asking you to spread them further and you did, allowing more access. “You should see how you look, babygirl. Legs spread wide for me. You’re such a good slut,” he said lips barely leaving your dripping heat. You could only moan in response. “God I can’t wait to be inside your tight pussy. You won’t remember your name when I’m done with you.” As you neared your high, you whined out a series of moans and sirs before you threw your head back and whimpered “I’m gonna cum.”

Hoseok looked up at you, a smile present on his face again. “I don’t think so, sweetheart,” and he was gone. You groaned, angry at him for denying you your release before he was pulling you up, only to sit down and guide you to straddle him, your wet, quivering core above the head of his erect cock. His hands pushed your hips down as he slowly slid inside you until he bottomed out. You sat still for a moment, adjusting to his size, the stretch of him more than you had anticipated.

When the pain ebbed away, you rolled your hips against his and he let out a strained moan and grasped your ass in his hands, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as you slowly lifted off him and slid back down. “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight.” Hoseok said, his eyes screwing shut as you rode him. Your hands settled on his shoulders, bracing yourself as you continued to bounce on his dick.

You felt one of his hands leave your ass only to deliver a sharp slap against your ass cheek and you gasped, the skin stinging where he had smacked you. He gently ran his hand over the spot, soothing it. He found it increasingly harder and harder to keep up the sir facade as you continued to ride him and take his cock so well.

His eyes fell from your face, the pink tinge of your cheeks and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you concentrated, down to your breasts that bounced each time you fell back down on his length, and finally further down where we watched himself disappear inside you. His jaw opened in a silent moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when you leaned forward, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. “I can’t,” you whispered and Hoseok didn’t need telling twice.

He gripped your hips on either side and held you in place while he thrusted up into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the walls. Moan after moan fell from your mouth as his dick rubbed against a sensitive spot inside. Hoseok continued thrusting as deep as he could. One of your hands locked in his hair, the other rested against his thigh and you leaned back slightly while he rocked up into your tight pussy. Your eyes locked and he could see that you were close. This time, he wasn’t going to stop because he couldn’t hold back anymore.

His pace quickened as he chased his own high, but not before he snaked a hand between you and pressed his thumb into your clit, rubbing to the pace of his thrusts trying to time your climaxes. You threw your head back and moaned out “oh god, Hoseok,” just as he let a groan fall from his lips.

“God you feel so good,” he grunted and moved the hand on your hip yo hook around your waist and pulled you closer, his face buried in the crook of your neck this time as he thrust harder and harder into you. He was close, but judging from the tightening of your pussy, your walls clenching around him, squeezing his cock so nicely, you were close to coming undone, too.

A few more thrusts up into you along with the circles he rubbed into your clit had you crying out “I’m gonna cum!” Hoseok smiled into your neck and whispered “come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock.” His words were the final pushed you needed and you cried out, walls clenching him as your orgasm hit you. White blinded your vision, an intense heat spread throughout your body as Hoseok continued to thrust, helping you ride out your high before chasing his own and his hips slammed up into yours.

It wasn’t long after that he moaned, more of a whine, as he released his load inside you and continued thrusting until he slowly came to a stop, you still on his lap, face still hidden in your neck. You softly stroked his hair while you struggled to catch your breath.

“That was incredible,” he finally managed to say, pulling back and looking up at you. You blushed slightly and cupped his face in your hands before pressing a gentle kiss to hips lips, one he returned eagerly. “So, you wanna get cleaned up and get some coffee after? I know this really good cafe.” he asked as you gently placed kisses all over his face. “It’s not the cafe here, right?” you asked in between kisses. Hoseok smiled up, his hands on the small of your back as you arched, pressing your chest into his. “No, it’s not. The coffee here sucks.”

a/n: Whew!! I finally did it! I finally posted this. It was something I had in my mind since those most recent photos of Wonho at the gym came out and I just…. hello, sir. I’m a huge hoe for Wonho and my love for him will probably never die since he’ll never let me just L I V E. LET ME LIVE WONHO. I hope you all enjoyed this! I had so much fun writing it. Let me know what you think! Feedback is always welcome! ~K♡

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kdtheghostwriter · 6 years ago

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SNK 115 - “OMW”

I mean...

Let’s be real. As far as Deus Ex goes, I’ve seen more preposterous this week.

If any of you are wondering why this post took so long, it isn’t for lack of time I assure you. This chapter was…a lot. And god damn, Isayama, I wasn’t expecting to dig up my Junior Year debate notes for this one blog post but here we are lads. Quick recap before we get into writers’ mumbo-jumbo.

Flashback

Deus EX

#HeelFloch

Sad Hange

RESURRECTION

We all know Isa loves his religious imagery. He isn’t quite as egregious as Zack Snyder (who is, tbh?) but it’s definitely a thing. He also loves mythology of all types. And while Norse mythology seems to be his area of expertise, it isn’t mine - which is why seeing Stupid Sexy Zeke emerge from his Titan Incubator made me think of another Stupid Sexy God from the Ancient Greek Canon.

I speak of the Goddess Aphrodite, who has dominion over love, beauty and its various trappings. Admittedly, this comparison is drawn in relation to aesthetics only. Zeke’s aloof temperament doesn’t really mirror that of the Greek goddess. Even though Aphrodite did technically help start the Trojan War but that’s neither here nor there.

Zeke’s appearance from the steam of the felled Titan is nearly identical to the foam that appeared during Aphrodite’s spontaneous conception in the Ionian Sea. For the sake of transparency, I must point out that long ago, a fanfic author by the name of Homer relayed to us that Aphrodite was the daughter of Zeus and Dione. This is not technically wrong but it is quite boring. And it was also pre-dated (shout-out to Hesiod). Uranus, the primordial god of the sky, got into a spat with his children as deities are wont to do. This particular dust-up ended in Uranus being castrated by his son – the Titan, Cronus – who usurped the throne. The disembodied testicles fell into the sea like a pair of primordial bath bombs and out of the resulting effervescence appeared a full-grown Aphrodite in all of her Tumblr-banned glory.

Zeke, with nothing left of him after the explosion than a head and torso, was taken into the gut of a waiting Titan. Let me clarify, here. He was not eaten, no. The mindless titan scooted itself along the river banks and inserted the dying Zeke into its stomach cavity. Then OG Ymir with her trademark PATHS Magiks, crafts the golden boy a brand new body and sends him on his merry way.

Like I said up top: of all the examples of Deus Ex, this isn’t even the third-most severe I’ve seen. The implications of it are…a lot. And it actually makes sense if you consider what we know about Titan Biology.

Back to the beginning. Once upon a time, the Founder Ymir Fritz made a deal with the Devil of All Earth that gave her untold power after coming into contact with the “source of all living matter.” With that power, Ymir became the Progenitor of Titan Power. Upon her death 13 years later, her soul was split into nine pieces and connected via a metaphysical system known only as PATHS. These PATHS transcend space and time and bind together every subject of Ymir, even those who have been long dead.

We also know that the Titans themselves are a conundrum of theoretical physics. Their mass and energy are created from nothing. They generate massive amounts of heat, but don’t appear to need fuel. They have no digestive system and regurgitate the contents of their stomach when it becomes full. Even though they are huge creatures, their actual limbs and body parts are incredibly light. Even though Zeke has little recollection of what happened to him post-explosion, he’s likely smart enough to infer, as we can, exactly how and why he emerged from the carcass of a Titan with a brand new body.

This is all before we mention that Zeke Jaeger is a part of the Fritz family tree. The Royal Family line that descends directly from Ymir herself.

I also thought about Lazarus of Bethany while reading this section. Lazarus was a good friend of Jesus, the lad from Bethlehem. Maybe you’ve heard of him. Jesus was told that Lazarus had fallen ill, but has business and doesn’t set out until a few days later. Jesus and his crew arrive in Bethany only to discover that Lazarus has already passed away. This leads to the Gospel’s shortest verse.

Jesus wept. [John 11:35, KJV]

Perhaps the better comparison for her is to Abraham (with the whole “making a great nation” stipulation). But! I’m trying to do something pithy here, so bear with me.

The story of Lazarus might be the Good Book’s most well-known resurrection (besides that other one). The idea here is that the world’s most Holy Figure decided that this man’s time on Earth wasn’t done. Jesus was too late to heal Lazarus and felt so guilty as to weep. Lazarus was then called forth from his tomb, still wrapped in his death robes.

For the Eldian Empire, no figure is more Holy than Ymir Fritz. She’s the Founding Titan and, if this chapter is to be inferred upon, her spirit still influences the will of her subjects to the day. An entire cult has formed with the sole purpose of returning her to her former glory. I should also point out that Zeke essentially committed suicide.

Like, yeah, maybe the injuries were a bit too extreme for an old shifter to be able to regenerate from, but even if that’s the case there would have been the telltale signs of an attempt to do so, like Pieck in Liberio. There wasn’t even that. He was so tired of the fight – so done with Levi torturing him – that he was willing to abandon his years-long plan entirely and sacrifice his powers to the shadows of death. He chose to die; the Founder chose differently.

The rainstorm clearing to make way for the sun. The beautification of Zeke Jaeger. The visage of his tall, strong frame standing firm as his hated rival lays broken and mutilated at his feet. It’s all very hard to miss. Who knows where his head is at following this? I do, however, finally know why I get so many Spidey Sense tingles whenever Zeke opens his mouth.

The name is Immanuel Kant: German scholar and one of the godfathers of modern philosophy. I first learned of Kant and his teachings as a teenager on my high school debate team as I prepared my cases for the Lincoln-Douglas competition. It was my first tournament and I placed second out of dozens of students. After I was done for the day, a girl came up to me and gave me congratulations for understanding Kant. I thanked her, but the truth was that I didn’t fully grasp Kantian philosophy until I got home that night and studied a bit more. Kantian ethics can be hard to grasp because they are often in conflict with each other. (Gee, that sounds familiar.)

Kant’s ethics are deontological in principal. This is a fancy way of saying that the main concern is the Deed That Must Be Done. It is a separation of morals from emotion. Kant rejected the Utilitarians of the day and their schools of thought regarding the inherent “goodness” of an action. Specifically, he had a big problem with Determinism, saying that things like free will were inherently unknowable; also, basing the morality of a decision around perceived outcomes was impossible, because consequences existed outside of physical existence and therefore could not be quantified. Kant set out to quantify the question of moral relativism with his most famous work: The Categorical Imperative.

This is a terribly complex system that has been repurposed and reinterpreted countless times over the past two centuries so I’ll spare you any ballywho. Basically, CI is the inverse of Consequentialism where everything but the consequences matter. Saving a person from drowning isn’t inherently a good action unless there is a logical reason for doing so. This is admittedly a very simplified summation, but even the expanded version leads to some dissonance of reason.

If we look at the Abstract of Categorical Imperative, it tells us: “Do not impose on others what you do not wish for yourself.” This line is very similar to the Golden Rule, which Kant famously opposed. The American scholar Peter Corning pointed this out, saying, “Kant’s objection is especially suspect because the Categorical Imperative sounds a lot like a paraphrase…of the same fundamental idea. Calling it a universal law does not materially improve on the basic concept.” To borrow an idea myself, it’s like playing the Super Mario theme in a minor key. It’ll sound more dour than usual, but it’s still the Mario theme. Joking aside, what’s important here is that the whole point of CI is to quantify the question of morality and it appears to do that in part by using the qualitative philosophy of the Golden Rule.

Another big beef came from Danish philosopher Soren Kierkegaard. He felt that Kantian autonomy was insufficient in holding people to the standards of CI’s universal truths. In his words: “Kant was of the opinion that man is his own law – that is, he binds himself under the law which he himself gives himself. Actually, in a profounder sense, this is how lawlessness or experimentation are established.” In other words, if the only thing that matters is reasoning, you can justify almost anything to serve your immediate reasoning.

EXAMPLE

Here is where the dubious nature of the Categorical Imperative fully rears its head, as it displays BOTH the morality and immorality of Zeke’s plan.

On one hand, this plan is fucking awful. There are numerous and many arguments to be made against it; working solely in the context of Kantianism, it is irrational to presume that sterilizing the Eldian people will lead to a more peaceful world. It relies on a ludicrous number of assumptions – the least of which isn’t that Marley will one day stop being a total bell end. Besides that shit, it violates the nature of Kantian philosophy by attempting to foresee the outcome of the situation.

The other hand? It actually makes sense. CI says that only reason matters. It’s ethics through the lens of rational thought. No matter your thoughts about the Great Titan War, how it started and ended, whether or not the Eldians’ preceding subjugation was just or not, it’s a fact that the Titans have caused a great deal of suffering for many people. Only one race of people can transform into these beasts, so the idea of stripping their ability to reproduce isn’t a great leap to make. It is rational specifically in the context of this universe.

(Apologies for any details missed. I haven’t read any Kant in several years and this is a very condensed version of a concept I would encourage you to look into further. Thinking about this all now, the fact that I ever made it to out-rounds while arguing any of this is frankly absurd.)

It makes sense then, finally, why Yelena is so devoted to Zeke’s plan. Titans destroyed her home and slaughtered her people. The rational course of action is to remove this weapon from the hands of those (Marley) that would abuse them. And if those same perpetrators get screwed over during the course of this plan then…[Shrug Emoji]. She claims what she wants is justice. What she really wants, of course, is revenge. Just like her sensei, Jaeger-san, who wants revenge still. Which Jaeger, you ask? The answer is yes.

Situations have been reversed. The volunteers (and Onyankopon) are seated at the head of the table while the officers of the Garrison and Military Police that held them captive are under their thumb. Color-coded armbands are divvied out to the Eldian forces, juuuuust in case you forgot which period of history we’re sending up here. Armbands are assigned based upon when a person surrendered to the Jaegerists. Those higher ups (and Falco) that partook of the wine get their own special armband, because Everything Is Awesome!!

Then there’s this fucking guy. Before I revisited the world of epistemology, I had a much less astute take prepared about character psychology and the concept of the “Double Turn.” I may still write that as a separate post; it won’t do any good here. Reiner didn’t appear, firstly (even though it appears that he and the Warrior Unit are on Paradis), and the visage of a disembodied child using Titan Magiks to bring Zeke back from the precipice of death brings up some very real questions about how real the Curse really is. We don’t know how Ymir Fritz died originally. Given the way mythology tends to work, I’d say patricide is highly plausible.

As usual, all we can do is speculate. One thing that doesn’t need speculation is Pieck. As usual, she’s right on time. As expected, she’s exactly right.

Stray Thoughts

- As I noted last time, Levi was sent flying into the river. Evidently, he had enough strength to make it back to shore, just not much more than that. I suspect he’s alive for now but, goddamn did he get messed up. Levi underestimated Zeke’s suicidal tendencies, just as Zeke underestimated Levi’s tenacity. For two fellas that spent months in direct contact with each other, they have almost no clue.

- Not to stir the pot here but, here’s an in-story example of Kantian Ethics in case you’re still not quite sure. On the roof in Shiganshina – if Kant had been there (lol) – he would have disputed Levi giving the serum to Armin. Not for the reason you think. Categorical Imperative is all about reason. The reason Levi chose to save Armin is because he refused to rob his loved one of their humanity and instead chose to let him rest as opposed to reviving him for the sake of continuing a senseless, endless war. As Momtaku has said before: Levi chose Erwin over Armin. This was a choice made on emotional, borderline selfish, grounds and thereby irrational, which in Kant’s eyes makes it immoral. Just a little extra nugget for you. Discuss, friends!

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welllpthisishappening · 8 years ago

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You Play Ball Like a Girl (45/46)

“What is this?” Emma asked, glancing up at Will. He shrugged.

“Looks like an award.”

“For what?”

“Your name is on it, Emma. I’d wager pretty good money it’s for you.”

A final week of updates on Ao3 and tag’ed up from the start on Tumblr.

The game didn’t last 18 hours, but it felt like it had.

Emma was never good at patient.

Two stories, one live blog and more Twitter responses than she could count later, Emma yanked open the door to the bar on 9th Ave, a few blocks away from the Garden and jam-packed with the Saturday night, midtown crowd.

She groaned slightly at the people packed into the small space and scanned the faces in front of her, trying to find one of the people who were supposed to be waiting for her.

“Emma!”

Her head snapped up suddenly and she saw Mary Margaret waving at her from the end of the bar, the three of them crammed around a table in the corner. Emma nodded once and started walking, trying to her way through the crowd, but finding the task more difficult than she had bargained for.

She felt his hand in hers before she realized he was there and glanced up to find Killian suddenly next to her, pulling her along behind him.

People moved for him. Emma tried not to take that personally.

“Thanks,” she said softly and he grinned at her, raising one eyebrow up in a way that had Emma ready to pull him through the crowd as well – directly out the door.

“Couldn’t leave you to fend for yourself, love,” he said, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm tightly around her shoulders as they stopped in front of the table her friends had commandeered.

“Did you win?”David asked, nodding towards the several plate of bar food sitting on the table.

Emma grabbed a mozzarella stick and made some kind of noise in the affirmative. “Two in a row now.” “Practically a streak.” She scoffed and leaned her head against Killian’s shoulder. “Tired, Swan?” he asked.

Mary Margaret had a very specific look on her face and Emma just widened her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said sharply.

“Of course.” “How was hitting?” Emma asked, desperate to change the subject. Mary Margaret did her best to turn her laughter into a cough.

It was a valiant effort.

“Henry’s really good,” David answered. “Almost gave Killian a run for his money.” “You hit again?” Emma asked, turning quickly to stare at him in surprise.

Killian shrugged. “Henry asked.” “Yuh huh.” “It’s not a big deal, Swan.” “Yuh huh,” she repeated. Killian sighed and tilted his head, widening his eyes at her. “So did you hit too, David? Round out the trio?” “I did and it was only slightly embarrassing.” “You made contact a couple of times,” Killian said.

“Yeah, and you and Henry missed it a combined two times. Only slightly embarrassing.” “Well, at least you tried, David,” Emma said, trying not to laugh.

“Shut up,” he muttered.

Emma glanced at Mary Margaret – still trying to turn her laughter into a cough – and pushed a drink closer to her. “Thanks,” Mary Margaret said. “Sounded like you could use it.” “You’re the one who doesn’t have a drink.” “Nuh uh,” Killian interrupted, pointing to the extra glass in front of him. “That’s Swan’s.” “Not rum?” Emma asked, leaning up against him. His whole body seemed to tense under hers.

“Didn’t seem like that kind of night.” Emma smiled, taking a grateful drink of wine, ignoring the fact that he bought her drink before she even got there.

“I have political news,” Mary Margaret said after another long drink, finally finished with her coughing-laughter fit.

“Political?” Killian asked.

“Emma!” Mary Margaret said quickly, pushing on her shoulder slightly, the light of the bar flashing off the stone in her ring. “You didn’t tell him?”

“There have been a couple of other things going on,” Emma shrugged. Like running away from their respective problems and running towards each other and giving up jobs.

“What’s happening here?” Killian asked, the amusement in his voice obvious.

“There’s been a Storybrooke coup,” David supplied and Killian’s eyes widened.

“That so?” “We’re not using the word ‘coup,’” Mary Margaret pressed. Killian nodded seriously. “It’s a transfer of power within the family.” ��Your family?” he asked.

He really was a good journalist.

“Exactly,” Mary Margaret nodded. “Regina is now the new mayor of Storybrooke.” “What happened to your stepmother?” “Stealing from the town,” Emma supplied and Killian made a noise in the back of his throat.

“No wonder the wedding was so fancy,” he said. “Exactly,” David agreed.

“So, what was your news, M’s?” “Regina pitched a fit in City Hall today apparently. My dad called me. Something about Marco and a gazebo they were building in the square and it not being perfect . It lasted several hours, I guess. She was on the phone, trying to get Graham to arrest Marco because he had broken some sort of contract with her.” “Marco is 75 years old,” Emma pointed out.

“I don’t think she cared.”

“What ended the fit?” “Robin, of course.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand it. She’s a totally different person around him. She actually almost seems nice when she’s with him.” “She loves him,” Mary Margaret pointed out. “That makes things different.”

“If you say so,” Emma mumbled and Killian kissed the top of her head. Point to him.

“I just did,” Mary Margaret continued. “Anyway, that’s not even the most exciting part of the conversation.” “There’s more?”

Mary Margaret nodded and Emma noticed she suddenly looked a little bit nervous. “I told my dad,” she said, taking another drink.

Emma blinked and glanced at David who looked just as nervous. “And that went…”

“Not great.” “I figured it wouldn’t.” “Apparently he and my mom have been talking,” David said. “About the wedding. Making plans. And lists full of suggestions from Cora.” “Cora?” Emma asked, nearly choking on the word. “What does Cora have to do with it?”

“She’s got some time on her hands now that she’s not officially mayor anymore,” Mary Margaret continued, leaning against David’ side, like recounting all of this was slightly exhausting. “And, according to my dad, planning me some sort of big ceremony that would prove, once and for all, the joint efforts of the Blanchard-Mills family to take control of Storybrooke.” Emma laughed – loudly – practically doubling over with the sound. “Are you kidding me?” She asked, staring wide-eyed at Mary Margaret and David.

“Swan…” Killian muttered disapprovingly, glancing nervously around the table.

“Are you hearing this?” she asked. “This is absurd.”

“It is,” Mary Margaret agreed. “My dad, well, he’s not pleased with the small New York ceremony idea.”

“What about your mom?” Emma asked, looking at David.

“Surprisingly ok’ish with it,” he said. “She said she wanted to come.”

Emma made a face, sticking her lower lip out slightly and nodding in approval. “What are you going to do M’s?” “Nothing,” she shrugged.

“Really?”

Killian laughed softly behind Emma, the movement of his chest hitting up against her beck, and she glanced over her shoulder at him. “Are you really that surprised, Swan?” he asked, looking up admiringly at Mary Margaret. “I’m not.” “Thanks,” Mary Margaret said, sounding sincere and reaching out to brush her hand over Killian’s forearm. He just shook his head dismissively as Emma leaned against him, hoping he’d understand what she was trying to do.

The hand on her waist made her fairly confident he had picked up on it.

“You’re really going to do it anyway, M’s?” Emma asked. “Just get married whenever?”

“That’s what we’re thinking.” “You know, whenever the wedding mood strikes,” David laughed. “We’re going to get the license later this week.” “When exactly do you think the wedding mood would strike?” Emma asked.

“You can never be too sure.” Emma laughed and finished her drink, feeling something settling in the pit of her stomach. Killian tightened his arm around her shoulders and kissed her head again lightly, chuckling softly as well and everything was so goddamn perfect that Emma couldn’t quite come up with the right word for it all.

But then Mary Margaret smiled at her knowingly, muttering something about how the wedding mood would only strike when Emma was wearing blue because they were at least sticking to a color scheme in this spontaneity and, suddenly, she knew exactly what she was feeling.

Happy. She was happy.

“You alright, love?” Killian asked several hours – and a totally inappropriate number of drinks – later.

Emma nodded, only wobbling slightly as she stepped out of the heels she had somehow managed to keep on all night. “Of course,” she said, taking a few steps back and nearly collapsing on the bed, almost falling on top of him.

“We should have made sure you drank more water,” he said, fingers trailing up her side and finding their way under the bottom of her shirt easily.

“That’s your job.” Killian laughed softly and turned his head to look at Emma, one eyebrow perfectly raised in unspoken question. “Ok,” Emma sighed. “That’s also my job. But maybe I wanted to have a good time before you left.”

“Did you?” “Did I what?” “Have a good time?” Emma smiled, brushing her hand over his cheek, thumb trailing slowly over his lower lip. “I did,” she said softly. “Could have a better time though.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

Killian sighed, leaning his head against Emma’s palm and kissing softly against the inside of her hand. “I think you may have had a considerable amount to drink, love.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m pretty positive we could have a pretty good time.” He narrowed his eyes at her and shook his head. Emma seized the opportunity and pulled him towards her, kissing him – hard. He froze for a moment and then he made some sort of ridiculous noise that sounded like a growl and Emma was pinned underneath him, Killian’s legs on either side of her hips.

“Told you,” she muttered quietly and he shook his head again before pressing his face into the crook of her neck and kissed so hard she was positive he was going to leave a mark. In fact, Emma was fairly certain he was trying to. “I win,” Emma added, moving her hips instinctively and working another groan out of him when her body moved against Killian’s.

“Stop talking, Swan,” he mumbled.

She did and he made sure she did.

For several minutes.

He pulled back slightly, staring at her and God his eyes were blue. And Emma was overwhelmed and she didn’t want him to go back to Boston, didn’t want him to leave the apartment or her bed.

She also didn’t say any of that out loud.

Killian did.

“I don’t want to leave,” he mumbled, barely saying the words.

Emma tried to smile, but she knew it wasn’t even remotely convincing. “I don’t want you to either,” she said. “But you have to go.” “I know.” “Make sure your bag made it back to Boston.”

“I’m sure it did.” “And you’ll be back soon,” Emma continued. “You play at Yankee Stadium in like two weeks.” “I don’t, Swan,” Killian said and she would have heard the slight bite in his voice even if she wasn’t lying two inches away from her. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be.” Killian muttered. “I knew what you meant. I just...like I said, it wasn’t what I was expecting.” “What exactly were you expecting?” Emma asked, fingers tracing over the veins in his left hand and Killian looked at her with eyes wide, the emotion obvious there.

“Something.” “Not very specific.” “I don’t know that I have a more specific answer.” Emma didn’t really need one. She knew what he expected – or what he hoped for, something to work . Something to not feel like a disappointment after he had given up so much for it. He had hoped for a little bit of fair from a world that seemed determined to give him exactly the opposite.

“You’ll be back soon,” Emma repeated and Killian nodded, head dropping back against her shoulder as he kissed her, just underneath where his lips landed. “And I’ll be in Boston for the playoffs. I’ll see you so much you’ll get sick of me.” “Not possible,” he said into her neck, still kissing her and Emma was getting decidedly distracted. “Plus,” Killian added. “I’ll be back for graduation.” “Whose?” she asked, mind only focused on what he was doing with his mouth and the marks he was undoubtedly leaving there.

“Henry’s, of course.” Emma pulled her head away and gaped at him. “What? Really?” “Yeah, he asked while we were at the Piers today.” “And you said?” “That I’d come back. Of course.” “You won’t have a game?” “ You won’t have a game, Swan? That’s right in the middle of the playoffs.”

“I’ve been guaranteed an afternoon graduation,” Emma said. “Playoff games happen at night. Always.” Killian laughed softly and nodded. “You’ve got it all figured out.” “Do you? You’d really come back for that?”

He made a face at her. “Come on, Swan,” he sighed. “I think I’ve proved I care. Why wouldn’t I come back? I’m entitled to days off.”

“And secret not-so-sick days.” “That too.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her and Emma let out some sort of ridiculous, girlish giggle. Killian beamed at her. “You know what Monday is?” he asked.

“The last game of the homestand?” “You’ll have been at The Record for a year.” “You remember the actual date?” Emma asked, surprise washing over her before she, suddenly, realized he was wrong. “Wait, that’s not right.” “Hmm?” “I started at The Record on the 21st.” “That was your first day,” Killian said. “But you interviewed on the 18th.” That was right. Of course.

Emma’s mouth dropped open suddenly and she bit her lip tightly. “A year,” she said softly. “That’s right.” “I know it is.” “Why do you remember that?” “Do you not?” “No, of course I do,” Emma said. And she did. Vividly.

“Then why wouldn’t I?” “It wasn’t your interview.”

“Yeah, but it was also the day you nearly ran me over outside an elevator,” he laughed, picking up right where he left off with the kissing. Emma bit her lip again. “Seems like kind of an important date.” “I think so.” “Then we’re very much on the same page.” He tugged on the chain around her neck lightly, forcing Emma to turn her head and look at him. She nearly pulled back when she met his eyes. He looked certain. “I love you,” he said seriously and Emma’s stomach flipped.

“I love you too.” “I’m glad you almost ran me over, Swan.” He spent the rest of the night proving how glad he was.

She didn’t do anything when he left.

Didn’t tell him to stay or that she hated the entire Boston Red Sox organization with enough fire to probably light an entire Yankee Candle store.

She just kissed him – standing on the sidewalk in front of her apartment, again, and that wasn’t lost on either of them – and told him she loved him and watched him get in a cab back to LaGuardia.

And then Emma went to work on Monday and tried to pretend like everything was fine. It almost worked.

That was, until, Will Scarlet showed up at her desk with a box full of letters, leaning them on the edge of her desk and staring at her expectantly.

“Good weekend?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Emma said softly. “Real good.” Will made a face, like he was waiting for her to continue, but Emma didn’t say anything else. Instead she changed the subject. “What’s in the box?”

“Oh!” Will exclaimed, like he had forgotten what he was holding. “I come bearing gifts.” “Gifts from the United States Postal Service?” “Exactly.”

He hooked his leg up slightly, balancing the box on his knee and reached in to grab an oversized envelope, holding it out in front of Emma. She grabbed it, lowering her eyebrows and staring at the label on the front.

Emma Swan ℅ The New York Record

300 W 57th St, New York, NY

The NYS Press Association

“The Press Association?” Emma asked, to no one in particular.

Will shrugged. “I don’t know why they’d lie on the return address label. Open it and see what it’s about.”

Emma scoffed under her breath, but ripped open the edge of the envelope as well – it was ridiculously heavy. There wasn’t a letter inside. Emma’s hand hit something far more solid than paper. In fact, it felt a bit like wood.

She lowered her eyebrows and dropped the envelope on her desk – landing with a soft thud – and yanked out the contents. It was a plaque.

“What the hell?” she muttered slowly, staring at the words on it.

New York State Press Association

1st Place

Emma Swan

Feature Writing – Sports

“What is this?” Emma asked, glancing up at Will. He shrugged.

“Looks like an award.”

“For what?”

“Your name is on it, Emma. I’d wager pretty good money it’s for you.” “But it says feature writing,” she argued. “I don’t understand.” “You wrote a feature,” Will said slowly, staring at her like she was a little bit crazy. “Several of them. About Henry.” “And won an award?”

Emma stared at the plaque, running her fingers over the letters and trying to figure out how exactly this had landed on her desk. Will picked up the envelope and shook it slightly, catching the thin program that fell out.

“There’s more,” he said, holding the papers in his hands. “Looks like you missed out on a ceremony.” “What?”

Will nodded, looking at the pamphlet again. “Last month apparently. Look, there’s a date.” Emma grabbed the papers out of his hand and gaped at them. March 10th. “Nobody said anything about this,” she muttered, tossing the program on top of the award. “Why wouldn’t anyone say anything?” “Maybe they didn’t know?” Will asked and Emma appreciated his attempts to be positive.

No – that wasn’t true.

They knew. They just didn’t care.

Emma felt the anger jolt through her system quickly and she was standing up before she even realized it, intent on walking into Jefferson’s office and demanding to know what was going on.

“Hey, wait a second,” Will said quickly. “Before you go off on a yelling-binge, which you’re totally entitled to, don’t you have to get nominated for these things?” She blinked once and tilted her head, glancing back down at the award sitting on her desk. “That’s true,” she said slowly, sinking back into her chair and yanking her hair over her shoulder forcefully. “Who would do that?”

Will rolled his eyes are her. “Are you serious?” “Are you?”

“Emma, please tell me you are not that dense.” “Rude.” “Killian did it,” Will said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Obviously.”

“You think?”

Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper and she couldn’t quite understand what exactly her heartbeat was doing – it couldn't seem to decide if it wanted to speed up or slow down. She ran her hands over the award again, tracing her name and knew , Will was right.

Killian absolutely did this.

“Of course I think that,” Will said, rolling his eyes again. He pushed the award closer to Emma so it was just a few inches away from her and eyed her seriously. “You better let him know you won.”

“And didn’t know about the ceremony.” “Yeah, maybe don’t mention that part,” Will muttered, rolling back on his heels. “He won’t like that part.”

Emma made a face and shrugged, reaching forward to grab her phone, but was interrupted before she could even touch the screen.

“What you got there?” Jefferson asked, appearing at Emma’s desk and glancing between her and Will.

“An award,” Will supplied quickly. “For Emma.” “Oh. Yeah,” Jefferson said. “I heard that was coming.” “You knew about this?” Emma asked. Jefferson shrugged. “And you didn’t think to say anything about it?” “You had a game that day. I figured you wouldn’t have gone to the ceremony. Didn’t seem all that important.” Emma sighed – he was right. She wouldn’t have gone if she had a game, but she still would have liked to have known what was going on. Will, however, seemed more than a little frustrated with the answer.

“That’s bullshit,” Will said sharply. Emma glanced at him warningly. He didn’t stop. “And you know it.”

“Excuse me?” Jefferson’s voice snapped quickly and Emma, suddenly, realized she’d never seen him mad. She’d seen him excited, bordering on hyper, but this was something else all together. This was threatening .

Emma looked at Will again, trying to get him to stop without actually telling him to, but he didn’t pick up on it.

He looked just as angry as Jefferson did. “That. Is. Bullshit,” Will repeated, pausing dramatically between each word. “You should have told Emma what was going on. She deserved that.” “It was my decision not to. She needed to keep focused on the Knicks.”

“Please,” Will sighed. “That’s even more bullshit. As if Emma wouldn’t stay focused on the Knicks. You knew she wouldn’t have gone to that ceremony if she had a game. Even if she didn’t have a game. Have you ever even met Emma? She’s determined to not be the center of attention.”

“That’s not any of your business, Scarlet,” Jefferson said, taking a step towards Will and crossing his arms slowly.

“Emma’s my friend. She deserved to know about that award because she put in a shit ton of work for that award. Both her and Killian.”

Emma widened her eyes and did her best not gasp dramatically. No one mentioned Killian there anymore – least of all in front of Jefferson.

And Will knew it.

It just appeared he didn’t care.

“That’s what it is isn’t it?” Will asked. “Emma and Killian worked on that story and you couldn’t stand that they got acknowledged for it. That’s awfully low, even for a guy who came in here as one of Gold’s lackey's.”

Jefferson laughed.

He actually laughed and Emma wasn’t quite she understood what was going on. “Think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?” Jefferson asked.

“Certainly seems like it,” Will said.

“Well, you’re not wrong. But here’s the thing, I couldn’t acknowledge it. You think Gold didn’t know about that story? And the award? And how much Killian and Emma worked together on it? He knew all of it. Hated it too. So when the list came out, he told Isaac we weren’t going to do anything about it.”

“Gold said that?” Emma asked, wondering how one man could hold onto a grudge for so long that he could care about one award from the New York State Press Association.

Jefferson nodded. “I think he hates you just a bit.” “Yeah, I picked up on that.” “What am I missing?” Will asked, leaning against the side of Emma’s desk in a way that certainly did not make her heart clench.

“A lot,” Emma muttered, leaning her head back against the top of the chair.

“Gold would have hated you no matter what,” Jefferson continued, ignoring Will’s question. “But he despised you – and this whole department for that matter – because of what Killian did.”

Will opened his mouth, no doubt to ask what he had missed again, but Emma cut him off. “Why did he listen?” she asked, staring at Jefferson intently. “Why wouldn’t he have just fired us as soon as Killian left?” “Fire us?” Will said loudly and Emma made a face.

“You don’t know?” Jefferson asked, looking at Emma expectantly.

“No one knows.” “But you do?” “Milah told me, weeks ago, before they left.” Jefferson nodded slowly and Emma tried to smile. “Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Will pleaded.

Emma bit her lip, closing her eyes slightly and tried to take a deep breath.

She hadn’t told anyone, not even Mary Margaret, and wasn’t sure she could actually say the words out loud without displaying some sort of entirely inappropriate workplace emotion.

“Emma?” Will asked again and she just shook her head.

“Killian left,” Jefferson said.

“I know that.” “He left because he made a deal with Gold.” “But he had a job,” Will argued. “He had everything all set up to go to Boston. We talked about it. So I could sublet his apartment. Sorry, Emma,” he added as an afterthought and she shook her head again.

“He had all of that because of the deal,” Jefferson said. “Stop dancing. Just tell me what’s going on.” “Killian told Gold he’d leave, walk away from the paper and New York if he promised not to touch the staff,” Emma said softly, hand resting flat on the plaque on her desk. “Gold would have fired all of us, brought in his own people, made sure the sports department was his and Killian made sure he didn’t.” “Seriously?” It was a wholly underwhelming response, but Emma laughed at it – it was the only response she could come up with as well. She nodded.

“So then, Emma’s right,” Will continued, looking at Jefferson. “Why wouldn’t he just get rid of us as soon as Killian was on a train to Boston? There was nothing to make sure he held up his end of the bargain. Doesn’t seem like the most honorable man around.” “He’s not,” Jefferson admitted quickly before glancing around the office quickly, almost as if he were making sure the place wasn’t bugged. “But he believes in the deal. He wouldn’t go back on a bargain, no matter what.”

“Huh.”

Jefferson nodded quickly and glanced at Emma again. “Does Killian know that you know what he did?” “No,” she answered, shaking her head.

“You should probably tell him.” “You giving out relationship advice now?” Will asked, laughing.

“Relationship?” “Thanks, Will,” Emma muttered. “You really didn’t know? I thought Kathryn told everyone in the entire building. ” “Know what?” “Emma’s dating Killian,” Will answered quickly. “Has been since she started here.” “That’s not true!” Emma objected, Will just looked at her, eyebrows raised and a small smile on his face. “Well, not entirely true.”

Jefferson pressed his lips together tightly, like he finally understood something and stared at Emma for several long minutes before saying anything. “Did you know that The Writer is hiring?” he asked.

“What?” “ The Writer is hiring,” Jefferson repeated. “Right now. Looking for a columnist I heard.” “What else have you heard?” Emma asked.

“That they were thinking of promoting from within, but the sports editor there is nervous that none of his writers are up to par.” “What exactly are you suggesting?” Emma’s pulse was doing that thing again and there were two dozen thoughts racing through her mind at once. Will looked at her expectantly and Emma met his gaze with wide eyes and nervous smile.

“I think you know exactly what I’m suggesting,” Jefferson said, finally uncrossing his arms and taking a step away from Emma’s desk. She nodded slowly. “And I think you should take your award home with you. It doesn’t belong here.”

Jefferson walked away, turning on his heels and moving back towards his office calmly – it may have been the first time Emma had seen him looked calm.

That was unexpected.

“You going to do it?” Will asked, sharply, shaking Emma out of her thoughts.

She nodded quickly. “Yeah,” Emma said, no trace of question in her voice. “Yeah, I am.”

“Good.”

Emma waited until she was home, until she was sitting on her bed and by herself. She didn’t want the entire New York Record office – or any of the tourists on 8th Avenue – to be around when she told Killian about The Writer .

Or the other thing.

Because if Emma was being honest with herself, she wasn’t certain he’d be all too happy to find out that she knew about the otherthing.

She sighed softly, leaning against the wall behind her bed – where Killian had been the day before – and bit her lip tightly, steeling herself for what she needed to do.

It only rang once before he picked.

“Swan,” he said and Emma could hear the smile in his voice. That might make this easier. Or worse when it blew up in her face.

God, she should have talked to him when he was here.

This would be easier if he was here.

“Hey, you got a second to talk?” she asked.

“Of course.” “Like several seconds?” “I have more than several seconds, Swan. Talk.” Emma took another deep breath and pressed her teeth against her lip. She didn’t talk. “Swan?” Killian prompted. “You alright?” “Possibly.” “Possibly?” “Yeah.” “Alright,” he said slowly, dragging out the word and Emma could see him raising one of those stupid eyebrows as if he was standing right in front of her. “What’s going on, love?” “A couple of different things.” “Are you being evasive on purpose or just trying to drive me slightly insane?” “No,” Emma objected quickly. “I’m kind of hoping this can help. Before I get to the other things.”

“Good news before bad, then?” “Something like that.” “The only way this conversation is going to work is if you actually talk, Swan.” Emma groaned and leaned her head against the wall again with much more force than she anticipated – it hurt.

“I know,” she said, nodding once to herself. “Ok, ok. So first thing – I got my award.”

“What award?” “The Press Association.” “You won?”

The pride in his voice was almost too much.

It sent shivers down her spine and made her smile and believe and want and Emma started talking quicker without even realizing she was doing it.

“I know you did that,” she said. “I know you nominated me for that and it was ridiculous of you and totally unnecessary.”

“Not totally, Swan. You deserved that. And 18 other awards.” “Eighteen?” “At least.” “Well, I’m glad I got it then.” “Why wouldn't you have gotten it?”

“I didn’t know I won until the plaque ended up on my desk this afternoon. Will said it came in the mail.” Killian was silent for a moment – like he was processing what Emma had just told him – and then suddenly he was talking quickly as well, only he was angry.

“What the hell do you mean it came in the mail?” “No one told me about the ceremony. Or the nomination,” she tacked on.

“Yeah,” Killian sighed. “Well, I wasn’t really planning on not being there when I sent in your nomination. I figured I’d be the one to let you know.” “That brings me to my next point, actually,” Emma said, cutting him off before he could dive into a whole speech of how much Emma deserved to know what was going on.

“Does it?”

Emma smiled to herself – she had him hooked.

Killian was a journalist, a good journalist, and, by default, he wanted answers. He was also far too curious for his own good.

She was fairly certain he hadn’t entirely forgotten about being angry, but the curiosity was too much to overlook.

He wanted answers.

“It does,” Emma confirmed. “Because while I was putting Jefferson through the wringer for not telling me about the awards ceremony…” “As you should,” he interrupted.

“Hey!” “Sorry,” Killian muttered and Emma bit back a laugh at his not-quite-repentant tone. “Keep going, Swan.”

“Jefferson said that Gold didn’t want me to know, didn’t want anyone on the sports floor to know anything about anything. That he’s been trying to cut us off so to speak. That’s why Jefferson has been so crazy. He’s trying to live up to Gold’s expectations and demands and whatever and still put together a section.” “Where are you going with this, Swan?” “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Killian didn’t say anything, but Emma heard a door close loudly in the background and wondered if he had actually slammed it shut. She winced at the noise, shutting her eyes lightly and pulling the ring out from underneath her shirt.

It took several seconds before he finally answered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Swan,” he said and the effort to keep his voice even was calm, even across the phone and several hundred miles.

“Liar,” Emma whispered, eyes still shut and legs scrunched up to her chest. She rested her chin on her knees and tried not to breathe too loudly.

“I don’t,” Killian repeated.

“Don’t lie to me,” she said sharply, eyes snapping open quickly. “I know. I know what you did.” “Then I don’t think you need me to tell you.” “It’d be nice, at some point in this relationship, for you to actually be honest with me.”

Killian’s breath hitched in the phone and sighed.

She hadn’t meant to say that.

At all.

She shouldn’t have said that, knew it wasn’t true – that he had told her about some of the deepest, darkest parts of himself and let her into nearly every corner of his life. But , there was still some part of Emma that hated the parts he kept to himself, the things he felt like he had to do without her.

“I’m being honest with you,” he said softly, practically studying every word as he said it. “This isn’t about you.”

“It’s about you and Gold.”

It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And that doesn’t include me? Or my job? Or the bargain you made for that job?” He was silent for a few more moments and Emma heard him take a deep breath, God, she could hear him tapping his fingers on his desk.

“You didn’t need to know.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Emma hadn’t expected to get so mad. She expected to tell him what she knew, to explain how she found out and that he could come home. The Writer would hire him. She knew they would. He probably wouldn’t even have to interview.

The Writer would lose its collective mind if Killian Jones came to write for them.

“Are you?” Killian snapped back and now Emma wasn’t mad, she was furious .

She leapt off the bed and started pacing, moving across the small floor space in her room. “My job, Killian,” Emma said, voice straining on the syllables. “My job. And my byline. You don’t get to decide how that works.”

“I wasn’t just going to let him throw you all out,” he said, voice practically cutting into Emma. “Especially you. Not when I could do something about it.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “It didn’t seem important.” “What?” Emma sighed, leaning against the door and sliding down it slowly until she was sitting on the floor, one leg stretched out in front of her.

“He would have done it, Swan. He told me. He would have gotten rid of me and then he would have gone through the staff and he would have enjoyed it. But if I left, if I gave it up, he said he’d keep the staff and he’d keep you on the Knicks beat and he’d leave you alone.” “I can take care of myself,” she said weakly, not entirely certain what she was arguing about anymore.

“I know that, love,” he said softly. “But I couldn’t come up with a reason not to do it. Not if it protected you.” “You traded your job for me?”

“Yeah.” Emma’s breath practically flew out of her lungs and she leaned her head forward, resting her forehead on her leg. “I can fix this,” she said after what felt like several hours of silence.

“What?”

“I can fix this,” Emma repeated. “That was my final point.” “There’s not anything to fix, Swan. It’s not like The Record is going to hire me back any time soon.” “Not The Record . The Writer . Jefferson told me today that they’re looking for a new columnist.” “They’ll promote from within.” “No,” Emma objected quickly. “That’s what I thought too, but Jefferson said that he heard they were nervous about the talent of their writers. Honestly. They’re opening up the search. Bringing in resumes. Everything.” “And where exactly do I fall into this plan?” Emma widened her eyes in exasperation and did her best not to audibly sigh into the phone – he was frustrated enough already.

“Killian,” she said. “Come on.” “I’m asking you a genuine question, Swan.” “They’d hire you,” she continued quickly. “They’d give you a column and a job and you could tell the entire Boston Red Sox organization to go fuck itself.”

He laughed softly and Emma’s entire body tensed. “You could come home,” she added.

“I don’t know that it’s all that simple, love.”

“It absolutely could be and you know it. The Writer would have a conniption if your resume showed up in the pile. They’d throw every other one away without even looking at them. You know that.”

“Swan…”

“What?” “You can’t count on that just happening.” “I already am,” Emma said. “This could work. It would work. Why don’t you think so?” “You’re far too confident in me,” Killian answered. “That wasn’t an actual answer to my question.” “True.” “Don’t you want to come home?” “Of course I do, Swan. But I told Gold I wouldn’t write in New York again. Said I’d leave the city and let him take over.” “He’s gone,” Emma said quickly.

“What?” “He’s gone. Him and Milah. They left weeks ago. She said he wanted to go back home. And he was having an affair with one of the news writers, so he kind of had to leave. Seemed he didn’t want that news to break.”

“She said?” Killian repeated, voice soft.

“I met Milah.” “She’s the one who told you, isn’t she? About what happened with Gold?” “Yeah.”

“You said they left weeks ago,” Killian said and Emma could hear the accusation in his voice as if it were sitting right next to her on her bedroom floor. “You’ve known what I’ve done for weeks.” “Don’t turn this around on me,” Emma answered hotly, anger flaring up quicker than expected. “I was waiting to see if you’d ever get around to telling me.” “Ran out of patience then?” “You know me, not very good at waiting around.”

“That’s true, Swan,” he said. There was a sound on the other end of the line – like he was moving the phone to lean against his shoulder. He was rubbing his hand. Emma knew it. “I’m sorry for not telling you, for whatever that’s worth.” “You shouldn’t have given up.” “It wasn’t giving up. It was a calculated bargain.” “That you decidedly got the short end of.” “That’s not true,” Killian argued. “I’ve read every single one of your stories, love, and they’ve gotten better every time. I wasn’t going to let you risk that. Not for me. Not because of what I’d done before.” “I would have,” Emma whispered.

“I know. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“What are you going to do?” “About?” “You know what about.” “I don’t know, Swan,” Killian sighed. Emma groaned in answer and that worked a small, sad laugh out of him.

“It could work,” Emma argued. “It could not work too.” “You’re not usually this pessimistic.”

“Only when it comes to myself.” “Then let me help. Killian, let me help. Just, fuck Gold and fuck the Boston Red Sox and come home and write a column and be happy. You deserve to be happy.” “So do you Swan.” “I am,” she said without hesitation. “Yeah?” “Yes, because of you. I got this job because of you. I got the Knicks because of you and I kept them because of you. So let me help with this. Come home.”

Killian laughed quietly – a shaky noise that made Emma’s heart clench tightly – and sighed again, but this one wasn’t sad. He sounded almost like he was accepting .

“I’ll text August tomorrow,” he said.

“For real?” “For real.”

Emma leaned her head back against her door again and smiled, pressing her lips together tightly and nodding slowly. “Good.”

#cs fic #cs ff #cs au #cs fanfic #cs #ypblag #one more chapter and an epilogue #what what what

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mynameistori · 6 years ago

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entry 1 (aug 11)

Hello! Welcome to my blog, I guess. Does this really need an introduction if the audience will probably be just me and the odd explorer (?) who randomly finds this? Anyway, I wanted to start this “diary” thing (log? I don’t know, I haven’t planned that far) because life has been extremely difficult these past few months and while I’m simultaneously moderately impressed at how long I’ve held on for without doing much, I realize that I’m definitely breaking apart and my mind is going haywire. I mean, just 10 minutes ago the idea of shaving my head popped into my head because tying my hair back by my neck made me look ugly. And that’s definitely not something my usual rational self would even dream of because I’ve worked so hard (more like waited so long) to get rid of all of the layers.

I don’t know where I’m going with this. It sounded a lot better in my head 4 hours ago when I was driving back from Waterloo (where I go to school -- my family lives in Toronto, about 1.5 hours away). I think I even came up with a few topics I wanted to talk about, since I don’t really have anyone to talk to these days and my mind just feels so cooped up and trapped. This thought is kind of paradoxical to me sometimes because I crave deep social interactions where I can talk about anything that’s on my mind, and when that happens I can probably talk for a while, yet I very much enjoy silence and definitely get tired of hanging out with people after a certain amount of time -- like an introvert. But I feel extremely lonely and get bored quickly when I’m alone.

I don’t know how much censorship to put into these entries. I would love to be straight up and just use names as is, but there’s always the risk someone I know will find this and spread shit around and I’m tired of that. And who knows, maybe I’ll post it to some social media account just so somebody (anybody) I know can read it and gain insight into my life and maybe offer me the odd piece of advice or comfort I need. I think I’ll keep all names private. But if you’re reading this and you know the story, don’t be a little shit. These are my words and feelings and unfortunately if they don’t sit well with you, bring it up to me privately. Don’t spread it around and ruin lives (mainly mine)... I’m sick and tired of that happening.

Anyway, onto the first story I suppose. Oh actually sorry I have something else, more like a note. I’m writing this somewhat spontaneously, as I’m pretty much just typing up whatever I say in my head. So I guess just pretend I’m having a deep talk or something with you, because that’s what most of this stuff will be… deep talks.

Ok back to what I was getting at -- first story. What to choose? There are so many. I would like to write about what happened two nights ago (because to be honest that’s what has been running through my mind since then and ruining my mind), but I don’t think that’s a good story to start off with LOOOOL. I think I’ll start with home.

Home to me has a lot of meanings. People always say “home is where the heart is” and I think that is the phrase I associate with home maybe 95% of the time (ok I came up with a random number because I knew I had another side to this but it’s not coming to me at the moment). I think I spend a lot of time thinking about the concept of home. Personally, I don’t think I have a location (like a city) I can call home. I don’t think that there’s somewhere I can see myself (or with a partner, if anyone will ever like my depressive ass -- ok disclaimer I have more sides to me I promise I’m just in a bubble of suffering right now) for an extended period of time. “Settling down”, I mean. Might be a combination of my feeling towards family (story for another time, it’s long and controversial), straight up lack of travelling/knowledge about other places, and how young I still am (I’m 22, I don’t think “settling down” is something I really need to care about?).

When I was in high school, I knew that I didn’t want to go a university in Toronto. I didn’t have a great home life in high school, and desperately wanted to go somewhere far but not too far. So I decided to go to UW -- a reputable, relatively new university with coloured faculties (who doesn’t like colour? To be honest I think that was what attracted me the most at first), and a dance community I could probably find my way into to improve my skills (their competitive dance team had won first place in a well-known competition the previous year, and I had been training in urban dance for approximately 2 years back then). So Waterloo became my home away from home and will still be until I finish up my undergrad (in 8 months!!!) and then I’ll move back to Toronto for approximately 3-4 months until I go to London for my Master’s program (assuming I snag one of the 6 spots -- I’m getting nervous just thinking about it). Waterloo has been great for the most part, but has turned sour since the beginning of the year (drama with friends who I lived with; a story for another time, though I’ve tried to forget about it because it hurt me so much). I knew I wasn’t going to be here for a long time (5 years isn’t that long), but I know it’ll always have a special spot in my heart because of all the amazing people I’ve met here.

Sorry, my thoughts can get a little fragmented and sentence cohesion and paragraph closure sometimes suffer... Revision usually catches that, but this isn’t some fancy thing so I’m sorry for everything above and everything to come~

I mostly think about home when I think about Shanghai or when people ask me where I was born. I love being asked about my birthplace but I hate the question that always follows: “When did you come to Canada?” because that always (or usually, I shall not assume) leads people to see me as Canadian-born because I came over when I was 8 months old. I absolutely hate this. It’s actually one of my pet peeves, because I actually feel very connected to Shanghai and always long to go back. I think because my parents made the decision somewhat spontaneously (their life wasn’t extravagant back in China and my uncle was willing to sponsor their immigration so they decided to come over), I feel that I was “robbed” (not really robbed but I can’t think of a better word right now) of a life I could’ve easily lived. I think this is why I prefer living like a local when I go back to visit, because I want to experience the life I never had. And it’s a super convenient one! Why can’t everything be cheaper, transit more extensive, tech more advanced?! Sigh. Another perk of going back is being forced to be offline from social media. It really taught me to just enjoy life and not wait on other people to make things happen. Though I’d love to live in Shanghai, there are so many barriers to deal with. Like the language. I’m not terrible at Chinese, but it’s still relatively poor and translating it from Shanghainese (which I’m much better at but is pretty much dead for people below my age -- thanks government!!!) doesn’t always work. I also dislike speaking it because I’m not confident at all. There’s also the issue of having too much family there (literally all of my relatives), so it’ll never really feel like I’m independent (especially being the youngest cousin, oh lord I’ll always be a baby). I guess even though it’ll always be a place I love, it wouldn’t serve as a place I’d live for a long time (I don’t think I’d last a year there, if I’m being honest about it).

I guess talking about more spiritual homes, I’ve said before that I love having deep talks. I love it when people are comfortable enough with each other that they are willing to share bits and pieces of their private lives, and these are the relationships I crave, though they are the hardest to find and the most painful to lose. I don’t have people I can truly call home anymore. It was my boyfriend for 1.5 years but we broke up halfway through July (another story, wow!). Some of my friends (not anymore, they’re avoiding me) were home to me but obviously not anymore. I recently joined another group of people who like to dance but I still don’t feel like I’m a part of the group (despite how much time I spend with them) because of a couple of reasons, but I think they’re wary about truly accepting me because of my previous attitudes towards them (I had personal reasons as to why I didn’t want to join them but they just know that I didn’t want anything to do with them for a long time) and because for some members my reputation precedes me (mainly because of those personal reasons but also because I was a huge influence on the urban dance community here #successstory -- just kidding, I was overthrown).

Something I’d love to do is to just start somewhere new where nobody knows me, where my reputation doesn’t precede me, and just live life how I want it. There’s so many things I’m scared to do because of social barriers. But I guess there’s also things I’m scared of doing alone (like dining and clubbing). I can never win, haha.

How do I end this thing, do I need a name? I was thinking about this earlier and was trying to come up with some online alias that I don’t predictably use. I decided on using Tori, which is the name I use for my Pokemon games, haha. It also means ‘bird’ in Japanese, and I guess these entries will help me find my way to freedom.

A rough first entry, but I’m glad it got written. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it, whoever you are. Until next time~

#entry 1 #home #introduction

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jamathon · 7 years ago

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Ask me! I'll answer honestly

1: How tall or short do you wish you were? lit 7′0″ 2: What’s your dream pet? (Real or not) cat 3: Do you have a favorite clothing style? met gala type fancy for sure. 4: What was your favorite video game growing up? Just dance 5: What three things/people do you think of most each day? My gf, boulder, art,

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say? "pwease no steppy” 7: What is your opinion on life? V weird. v cool 8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic] I tihnkkkk it was melancholic but i shud take it again bc it’s def changed 9: Are you ticklish? very 10: Are you allergic to anything? not that i know yet 11: What’s your sexuality? gay bi gay bi gay bi. 12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa? Tea 13: Are you a cat or dog person? cat 14: Would you rather be a vampire, elf, or merperson? whichever one is least lonely. probably merperson. 15: Do you have a favorite Youtuber? Alex bertie!! 16: How tall are you? 5′4 17: If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? Kiwi 18: How much do you weigh? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] likeee 125 19: Do you believe in ghosts/spirits? pass. 20: Do you like space or the ocean more? Ocean. 21: Are you religious? No 22: Pet peeves? A . Lot. im so impatient. 23: Would you rather be nocturnal or diurnal [opposite of nocturnal]? Diurnal! 24: Favorite constellation? uhhhh *panics and looks around kitchen* the big spoon 25: Favorite star? North bc i used to see it every night after work and i didn’t know it alr had a name so i named it after my gf as a romantic gesture hahhahaha 26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? Yuh 27: Any phobias or fears? Afraid of loneliness 28: Do you think global warming is real? shut up. 29: Do you believe in reincarnation? Havent thought about it 30: Favorite movie? Scott pilgrim 31: Do you get scared easily? Yes 32: How many pets have you own in your lifetime? 1 33: Blog rate? [You’ll rate the blog of the one who’s asking.] my blogs a 10 even tho i still have the OG tumblr theme 34: What is a color that calms you? blue 35: Where would you like to travel and/or live? Iceland 36: Where were you born? baltimore 37: What is your eye color? hazel 38: Introvert or extrovert? both 39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? hahahhaha yesss 40: Hugs or kisses? bofa 41: Who is someone you would like to see/visit right now? Would love to visit boulder i miss the mountains & weather a lot 42: Who is someone you love deeply? Rayven 43: Any piercings you want? septum tbh 44: Do you like tattoos and piercings? yes. v hot 45: Do you smoke or have you eiver done so? not anymore 46: Talk about your crush, if you have one! Rayven is my crush and also my gf she’s about to turn 21 which is exciting!! this feels like show n tell haha 47: What is a sound you really hate? fingernail scratching jeans 48: A sound you really love? keys jingling 49: Can you do a backflip? no 50: Can you do the splits? no 51: Favorite actor and/or actress? emma stone 52: Favorite movie?alr asked. scotty P. 53: How are you feeling right now? fine but restless bc of a tummy ache 54: What color would you like your hair to be right now? back to black acctuallly im tired of dying it 55: When did you feel happiest? idk 56: Something that calms you down? tumblr 57: Have any mental disorders? [Only ask this if you know the user doesn’t mind!] havent had an evaluation in years so idk! 58: What does your URL mean? that’s my JAMATHON!!! To describe a good song. A word i tried to make happen. like fetch. except not original, just “jam” with “athon” added. 59: What three words describe you the most? Understanding. Funny. Intense. 60: Do you believe in evolution? Yes 61: What makes you unfollow a blog? If they dont post enuf memes 62: What makes you follow a blog? Memes 63: Favorite kind of person: Funny, outgoing, spontaneous 64: Favorite animal(s): Whales 65: Name three of your favorite blogs. eh idk 66: Favorite emoticon: the drooling one 67: Favorite meme: too many 68: What is your MBTI personality type? intp idk if that’s right 69: What is your star sign? capricorn 70: Can your dog roll over on command, if you have a dog? no 71: What outfit out of all your clothes do you like to wear the most? i like layers. probably my leather jacket w black pants and a my yellow shirt. it makes me feel cute 72: Post a selfie or two? too hard 73: Do you have platform shoes? yes 74: What is one random but interesting fact about yourself? I used to be double jointed and could bend my finger back to touch my hand, unsure what happened but now i have 0 party tricks 75: Can you do a front flip? yeah probably 76: Do you like birds? So much!!!!!! 77: Do you like to swim? no!!!!!! 78: Is swimming or ice skating more fun to you? swimming... 79: Something you wish didn’t exist: pollution 80: Some thing you wish did exist: cures 81: Piercings you have? ears 82: Something you really enjoy doing: playing music/drawing/taking pictures 83: Favorite person to talk to: rayven 84: What was your first impression of Tumblr? cupcakes 85: How many followers do you have? like 100 on this blog now hahaha 86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes? yes but will I? No. 87: Do your socks always match? No 88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely? No 89: What are your birthstones? Turquoise 90: If you were an animal, which one would you be? Fox 91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be? I want to be creative but when i think about it...a red rose. 92: A store you hate? The grocery store bc im there all the time 93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day? zero now but at the beginning of the year i was drinking around 4-5 a day. 94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds? fly 95: Do you like to wear camo? nah 96: Winter or summer? Used to be winter but nothing is good in the south. 97: How long can you hold your breath for? not long at all it gives me anxiety 98: Least favorite person? some of the people ive met in the past year have been atrocious. 99: Someone you look up to: My roommate Chris. 100: A store you love? I could spend all day in H&M 101: Favorite type of shoes? vans 102: Where do you live? ....atlanta 103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why? Yes bc my girlfriend is and we always share food so like... i guess i eat meat on my own but that’s liike once a month haha 104: What is your favorite mineral or gem? hmmm...bismuth. 105: Do you drink milk? No 106: Do you like bugs? Not in the south. 107: Do you like spiders? NO. 108: Something you get paranoid about? Bugs. 109: Can you draw: NO. 110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked? people love prying idk at this point 111: A question you hate being asked? are u a boy or a girl has definitely gotten old 112: Ever been bitten by a spider? yes 113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach? yesssssss 114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days? depends 115: Someone you’d like to kiss or cuddle right now: my gf 116: Favorite cloud type: rain cloud 117: What color do you wish the sky was? orange. 118: Do you have freckles? yes 119: Favorite thing about a person: humor 120: Fruits or vegetables? veggies 121: Something you want to do right now: sleep but im restless :( 122: Is the ocean or sky prettier? hmmmm depends 123: Sweet or sour foods? sweet for sure. 124: Bright or dim lights? bright bc i need new glasses and cant see in dim light 125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature? dragons 126: Something you hate about Tumblr: nothing really 127: Something you love about Tumblr: takes my mind off everything 128: What do you think about the least? everything i shud be thinking about 129: What would you want written on your tombstone? something super funny that i cant think of rn 130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now? John cena bc i think he’d find it funny 131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself? Inability to fake happiness 132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures? sometimes! 133: Computer or TV? computer bc its both 134: Do you like roller coasters? no 135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness? yes 136: Are your ears lobed or attached? lobed bruh 137: Do you believe in karma? idk 138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are? strong 8.5! I don’t think im too shabby most of the time actually 139: What nicknames do you have/have had? kiwi 140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends? yes named Kiki 141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink? plenty 142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others? Depends 143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help? Receiving 144: What makes you angry? people not being nice really irks me 145: How many languages do you speak fluently? 1 146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries? tag yourself im nonbinaries 147: Are you androgynous? i’d say 148: Favorite physical thing about yourself: lately it’s been my chest. it’s p hot 149: Favorite thing about your personality: I’m funny. 150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person. uhh idk 151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose? the uhhh one w swords 152: Do you like BuzzFeed? ya 153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] Tindeerrrrr hah 154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons? uh idk 155: Do you like to play with others’ hair? ya 156: What embarrasses you? a lot 157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious: when other people are noticably anxious 158: Biggest lie you have ever told: idk 159: How many people are you following? lots 160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? lots 161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)? like 50 162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)? like 3,000 ishhhh 163: Last time you cried and why: My birthday bc one of rayvens gifts was ....so ....fuckin..sweet 164: Do you have long or short hair? short 165: Longest your hair has ever been: long 166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon? It’s annoying lmfao 167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created? Only bc im nosy 168: Do you like to wear makeup? no 169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds? no 170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully? yup

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sanguinesprout · 7 years ago

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Uhhhhh... *derp* (More stuff about indecision, some talk about doctors and some blog changes)

Lately has been well... kinda okay but mostly meh. I’ve been flip flopping between feeling somewhat content with myself and a little motivated and feeling absolutely empty inside and distraught. It’s been almost two weeks since my last post here (actually a reblog lol) and I’ve really been wanting to write a post but I’m still stuck in the habit of putting it off until I know for sure what I want to write or have the privacy to do so. Or maybe it’s just me being a big scaredy cat again :< I think from now on I’ll try to just write as if I’m writing in a diary, so more spontaneous and with less worrying about structure/keeping to just one topic or whether someone reads it or not, as I’m doing this for myself and my benefit most.

Although I was dawdling I did however sort out quite a lot of stuff to do with the blog and some good stuff irl (which I’ll get to later or in another post). One of the main things to mention is that I switched this blog from my primary one to a side one, which does make more sense and makes me feel a bit more at ease which should make it a bit easier to write and post without the restraint I was feeling before. Whether to keep them linked or not idk, I feel uneasy about it but I don’t think it should matter, I mean it is still me on both blogs and everything. I just wanted to separate the huge blocks of serious emotional text from the random cutesy and silly stuff I also wanted to post, but I think I might still post mental health related things to my main one, just in the form of images and not essays like these lol.

Also I changed the urls from the hyphenated and maybe overly fancy termed things they were previously to more simple and cute ones. I still feel a lil iffy about them (like this blog url feels a bit ‘cold’ but looks pretty and flows well while my main one sounds more ‘warm’ but the world cuddly doesn’t flow well or look as nice lol) but whatever I’ll grow to like them or just change them again whenever, I spent way too much time agonising over them, it’s time to move on! I fixed up the about pages on both of them too, the links and tags pages are still empty for now, but I’m content enough with the way they are now to actually begin posting properly soon I hope. Oh and the current avatar/sidebar image is a really crappy drawing I made 2-3 years ago with a mouse when I was feeling down and was going to make and name this blog ‘rainysnail’ lol. I still might use that name/url someday for something though ^^

I searched for ‘extreme indecisiveness’ in google the other day because I was that frustrated with myself about well, being indecisive (and it was over the same lame url/blog stuff as before, not surprise surprise). I know there’s a lot of stigma around consulting ‘Dr.Google’ and self diagnosis being looked down on as it could prove to be more harmful in some cases and I won’t lie, I do get kinda hypochondriac-ish sometimes, but sometimes it can be very educational and helpful too. I just wanted to know if I was feeling something... something valid(?) or if I was just being an idiot.

I came across ‘Aboulomania’ on my indecisiveness search and wow, it sounds pretty similar to AVPD and my current feelings but the way it’s written is kinda heavier? (and hella typo-ey/engrish-y lol I just chose that one because it seemed to have the most info from the few I clicked on). Idk... it doesn’t seem to be as much of a known/legit thing so there doesn’t seem to be that many sources on it or at least any reputable ones (though I didn't look particularly hard or for a long time though but once you’re past page 2 on google everything is bleh anyways lol). Also on its definition here lol it talks about ‘analysis paralysis’ and that’s something I kinda knew of and struggle with already. I feel some resonance with this finding and feel a little more assured and saddened at the same time, but I’m not about to run around screaming I have this thing or anything. Maybe I’ll look into it more another time but right now I kinda don’t have the energy to .__.

Indecision is something that appears and could be caused by all sorts of disorders, even just depression alone or a whole mix of other things and factors. Many disorders overlap (like the stuff in cluster c which I feel are most relevant to me) and trying to pinpoint exact reasons and causes for things to do with mental health is near impossible, so I don’t wanna dwell on it. I have therapy soon so having a professional help work out things is a much better idea (unless they also consult Dr.Google like some of the stories I’ve read online lol).

I did see some snippets of advice on indecision on another page and it was basically to let go of the feeling to try and always be perfect/choose the definitive ‘right’ decision and to just trust your gut feelings instead of leaving yourself to stress over it. Yeah, it’s nothing new really and I have been trying to do this but sometimes it’s just so difficult with all these automatic negative feelings weighing my rationality down and sometimes I forget because it’s so hard wired into me to get anxious and over analytical. *Sigh* ...but if I keep reminding myself I think it will stick more in the end. I have already adopted the ‘it doesn’t hurt to try’, ‘just do it, ‘yolo’, ‘no1curr’ etc. kind of mindset/mantra when I get hesitant before doing something that I usually avoid lol, sometimes it fails but the times when I have been brave and not overthought or avoided I’ve felt kinda proud of myself and there were some positive-ish outcomes too. So I just need to continue and allow myself to grow stronger in mind and spirit (and hopefully body too).

In relation to what I said before about the whole ‘Dr.Google’ thing, I thought maybe take the time now to write about my experiences with doctors in general. Many times in the past and even now when I would be explaining my problem (whether physical or mental) to a doctor, they would just shake their head and scoff to them self or even outright laugh smugly and then dismiss it straight away (especially if I mentioned I read something on the internet). The feeling of being fobbed off and even ridiculed by someone that’s supposed to be helping didn’t fare well on my confidence at all and I feel it is a reason I wasn’t proactive in sorting out a lot of the problems I’m still dealing with and obviously I am regretful, maddened and saddened as many of them could have been avoided or alleviated better if they were dealt with sooner.

I’m not saying all doctors are like this, I think it was those particular doctors that were the problem and thank goodness I don’t have to choose to see them anymore (I hope). My current doctor (who I actually came across due to those mean doctors being unavailable one time) is worlds apart in the way he handles things. He is so kind and accommodating to start with, listens well to any concerns, addresses them with great care and reassurance and is very adept at scheduling appointments for further investigations. I feel he really goes above and beyond and has both a friendly and personal but professional demeanour. I mean he isn’t 100% godly perfect as there were times I felt a bit iffy with some of the explanations and prescriptions and sometimes things were delayed, but he does try hard to help and is not against reading information from the internet and in fact encourages it and utilises it himself (eg. printing a informational page on a certain health thing from a reliable health website).

When I presented some info and concerns relating to a health problem I was having investigated already but felt was going in the wrong direction (ie. going down the typical ‘fob you off with the most common explanation so you go away’ route) he explained that it’s the typical process to go for the most common things first when investigating and agreed another route of investigation would be beneficial, more relevant and time efficient so he arranged that too. This doctor is such an awesome and good natured person and I’m so grateful, but he may only be temporary at the place I go to however and it makes me sad to think I might end up with the mean kind again someday. But the lesson is to not settle on doctors that are not helpful or any other type of awful and that there are good people out there. Something that was really very prominent and touching about going to this doctor is that my mother and sister who go with me sometimes were also stunned by how nice and helpful he’s been.

I distinctly remember one of the first times I went to see him with my mum and at that point I had been ill for so long already and she was obviously very worried about me. At the end of the appointment he announced what he would recommend me for investigation and assured that he’d help me get better soon with a smile and then he pointed to my mum next to me who I wasn’t facing at the time and I can’t remember exactly what he said but it was something about my mum crying. When I turned to look, she was indeed crying and I couldn’t stop my own eyes from watering either. I have never ever EVER seen my mum cry before, so it shocked me a lot and made me emotional too. I mean my sister told me she did cry one time recently, but that was when she was so stressed and upset over a family matter on her side of the family :c It’s not like this is something on my bucket list or anything, because I would rather her never be upset or cry for a bad reason, but this showed how much she cares and worries for me and in this case she was crying because she was happy, relieved that she would possibly not have to see me suffer as much and was moved to tears.

Unfortunately the problems have still not been resolved or fully recognised yet, and recently one of the doctors recommended to help investigate fobbed me off and it feels bleh lol... no not lol... very un-lol :< But at least the investigation is still going further in some way I guess and I’ll take his words with a grain of salt, I’ve yet to see my regular doctor to discuss what happens next. I think I’ve just backed down and passively taken whatever explanations too much in the past with negative results or progress and Idk I have a hard time accepting things some doctors say nowadays, a lot of it seems contradictory, sometimes illogical or outdated, robotic, insincere etc.

When I’m reading what I’ve just written it keeps making me worried I’m a ass or have trust issues or something... :< I know doctors are meant to be serious and professional, but I can’t shake the feeling that some of them are not nice/unwilling to help as much as they could. I have had so many past experiences to do with being treated differently and being prejudiced against and it still happens today and not just to me but all of my family members, it’s tough and really upsetting... :c

It is true though, that you really have to push and persist if you want something done about a problem, and many times people are let go and misdiagnosed with stuff that ends up being something different or a lot more serious. I’m not saying whatever I have is ultra serious and I wouldn’t know anyways. I am clearly not dying, and I hope I’m not, but when I was without medication at the beginning I felt so bad and I was so scared of dying (even though usually idgaf thanks to depression etc.) I’m scared of being in pain and having to suffer both physically and mentally forever. I want to get better, become a stronger person. do the things that matter and well, in a nutshell live my life to the fullest.

Anyways, about the app with the normal doctor... I avoided phoning on a day I could’ve gotten a sooner appointment (my sister encouraged me to, but she was away that day and my mum said it was an inconvenient day to go, but it actually wasn’t really... I should I have pushed myself to go forward even so...) the appointment I do have is 2 weeks away from what it could’ve been. But I guess maybe someone else might have taken that appointment that needed it more urgently, or there might not have been any available that day anyways w/e. Avoidance playing up again... be more brave silly self!

I was planning to write some more happier stuff that’s been going but this post is already quite long so a separate post it is~ and I won’t keep putting it off! Tbh I’m only comfortable pulling up my blog and writing my feels whenever I am alone, so when my family are all at work, but this only occurs on random days and for such a short span of time. Or at least when I know they are all busy downstairs, I can try but I feel like I have to be extra alert and switch it away when they do come. I... ugh idk :c I don’t want to be secretive or feel guilty but I can’t help it, it’s just so hard and frustrating. I can’t even write what illnesses I was talking about earlier on (though I do hope to dedicate whole posts to writing about them later). I will improve and forgo this paranoid feeling someday though! Believe it! *cringe*

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