#why does persona have so many tags damn

[sydsaint]

More fluffy holiday goodness!!

Summary: Carmelo asks the reader out on a date for the holidays which results in the reader inviting Melo to come fill out Angel Tree tags with her.

"Ouch!" You mock Cora from your position standing over her. "Better luck next time skater Barbie." You tease her with a wink. 

Cora holds the back of her head with a sour sneer on her face. She moves into a sitting position and watches you walk off with the NXT women's championship hung proudly over your shoulder. She lost fair and square against you. And on a Holiday show no less. 

You head through the curtain and find Carmelo waiting around for you with Trick. Trick flashes you a friendly smile before his entrance music hits and he has to head out to the ring. Carmelo on the other hand, stays behind and steps over to you. 

"Y/N, baby. Nice win out there, mean girl." He congratulates you on your win against Cora. 

"Thanks, Melo." You roll your eyes playfully at his nickname. "Got any plans for the holiday?" You ask him. 

Melo licks his lips with a cool and confident smile. "Well, that depends. What are you up to this weekend, baby?" He asks you. 

You laugh and shake your head at his forwardness. "Nothing that you'd be interested in. Trust me." You assure him. 

"Yeah? Don't be too sure about that." Carmelo replies. "Come on. Y/N. What are your plans?" He asks again. 

"Well, if you must know." You reply. "I'm planning on going around the area and filling out as many Angel tree tags as possible before I go broke." You explain. 

A perplexed look crosses Carmelo's face and you have to stifle a laugh. "Angel tree tags?" He looks for clarification. 

"Mhm." You nod. "There those trees with the tags on them in stores? If you're a struggling parent who can't spare the extra money to get your kids any gifts then you fill one out and someone like me takes the tag and buys stuff for you." You explain the gist of the tags. 

"Oh," Carmelo replies. "Damn, that's really nice of you, Y/N." He admits. "I didn't expect that from little Miss Mean Girl." He chuckles. 

You laugh with Carmelo and nod. "My mean girl attitude is just a work persona." You giggle. "I could use a shopping partner if you're interested, you know?" You offer. "Sure, it's not exactly a conventional date. But you get to spend time with me so all the money you spend will be worth it." 

"Why not?" Carmelo shrugs with a chuckle. "I don't mind dropping some cash for kids in need." 

"Great!" You grin. "It's a date then. I'll text you later and we can meet up for coffee in the morning." You add. 

Carmelo nods and you part ways for the night. 

Later, Trick comes back from his escapades in the ring and finds Carmelo texting you about tomorrow. "So you finally scored a date with, Y/N?" He asks Melo. 

"Sort of." Melo nods. "Have you ever heard of an Angel Tree?" He asks his friend. 

"Yeah, sure." Trick nods. "It's one of those charity things that help get poor kids and their families Christmas gifts." He explains. 

Carmelo nods and finishes his text to you. "Y/N's got me going with her fill a bunch of them out tomorrow. She was just telling me that she does it every year for Christmas."He explains. 

"Y/N? Charity?" Trick laughs. "Damn. I didn't know the mean girl got all sentimental around the holidays." He jokes. 

"Me either." Carmelo laughs with him. 

The next morning Carmelo is up early and meets you at some coffee place that you told him about last night. He heads inside and spots you already sitting at a table with a hot coffee in hand. 

"Y/N, morning baby." Carmelo walks over to your table. 

"Melo! You made it." You smile up at him. "Grab something to drink! We've got a long day of shopping ahead of us." 

Carmelo chuckles at your eager smile and orders himself a drink before joining you again. You show him a list of stores in the area that have trees and suggest one to start the morning. 

"Yeah, sounds like a plan." Carmelo goes along with your plan. 

You and Carmelo head to the first store on your list and it doesn't take long for you to find the tree. You look through a few of the tags a pick a couple of them out. 

"Alright, so basically you just look through the tags and pick one or two of them. The tag has some basic information on it. What kind of stuff the kid likes, their age, and what size clothes they wear if you want to get them some clothes." You explain. 

"Right." Carmelo nods and pulls a few tags off the tree. 

With your tags and carts ready to go you and Carmelo head out and start shopping. The two of you walk side-by-side down the aisles and help one another pick stuff out. 

You get distracted looking for a specific girl's toy in the aisle and Carmelo can't help but crack a genuine smile at how intense you seem. 

"Hey, Y/N," Carmelo speaks up and grabs your attention. 

"Hmm?" You stand back up straight with the right toy in hand. "What's up, Melo?"

Carmelo grabs the toy from you and sets it in his cart with the rest of his stuff before answering. "So, what made you get into this?" He can't help but ask. 

"Christmas was always my favorite time of year when I was a kid." You shrug. "My mom never really had the money to get me that much. But it was still special every year, opening presents and spending time with her." You explain. "So I guess I just like the thought of helping out those tired and worried moms make their kids' Christmas as special as mine were." 

"Damn. That's really sweet, Y/N." Carmelo replies. 

You blush a bit and the two of you return to the task. Hours and a few hundred dollars later, you and Carmelo have all of your things sorted and ready to be delivered. 

"Well, I'd call this a productive day." You finish up the last bag. 

"I agree. This is probably the best $400 I've ever spent." Carmelo agrees. "Thanks for bringing me out and letting me help, Y/N." He adds. 

You blush again and nod. "Of course! I had fun shopping around with you." 

"Me too." Carmelo agrees. "Hey, do you want to grab dinner after these are all dropped off? My treat, of course." He asks you. 

"Sure! Dinner sounds great." You eagerly nod. "Maybe we can talk about doing something for the actual holiday?" You suggest. "If you don't already have plans." 

Carmelo chuckles and shakes his head. "I'm wherever you are, baby." 

[kitcatttt]

Hello and welcome to my blog! My name is Kitcat or Ayah!

Pronouns: She/He, don’t mind They or It

Sexuality: Panromantic, Asexual but not sex repulsed. No NSFW please.

Birthday: June 12

My Carrd!

Open ask game!

Fandoms!

Jsab/TPC

Project Arrhythmia

Splatoon

Undertale/Deltarune

Project Muse

Mario & Luigi games

FNAF

Risk of Rain 2 (Milo I hate you /j)

Persona (just 5 currently, I have 3 and 4 I gotta play them)

Before you interact

I need tone tags. I’m bad at picking up sarcasm irl, and there’s like, no way to tell if someone is being sarcastic over text.

Please tell me if I do make you uncomfortable. I’d like to know so I can stop doing so.

Continuing from the above, PLEASE ESTABLISH BOUNDARIES WHEN WE FIRST START INTERACTING. I’ve had too many instances where I’ve accidentally made someone uncomfortable because I didn’t know their boundaries. I feel guilt easily and it lasts for a long time, I basically never get over it. So it would be nice to not have to feel said guilt at all.

I do occasionally make dirty jokes, and I jokingly say smash to a lot of things, specifically characters. Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable and I won’t do it around you.

I am trying to teach myself how to draw! I had been scared away from drawing for a few years, but I’m finally trying again. They might not be that good as of now. Please don’t make fun of me.

Please do not say my characters are “literally you” unless we are mutuals, and even then please ask for permission first. It does not sit right with me.

Self diagnosed AuDHD. Please don’t attack me for this. I’m only self diagnosing because my parents aren’t supportive of me getting evaluated and not only me, but several friends, peers, and adults in my life suspect I’m AuDHD, or at least autistic. Maybe I’ll get the diagnosis one day :(

DNI

Racist, homophobic, transphobic, or any other discriminatory people.

NSFW blogs and darkship/proship/profic people. So many terms jfc so I’ll just say this. If you support any kind of pedophilia, irl, fictional, whatever, get the fuck off my blog.

Cintagonisupset and his supporters. (Update on this one! I’m fine with his supporters as long as y’all aren’t here to start shit :])

People that just want to stir up drama.

DNI’s don’t really do anything but if you fit the above criteria and you got blocked don’t be surprised, I mean, I warned you :)

Please don’t mention around me (Ships)

TPC Cube x anyone other than Lythorus (Tied to a certain someone, but I’m kinda ok with it as long as it isn’t forced? Idk what would count as forced but Cube x Marcle feels hella forced- and just TPC versions of him. I ship HOPE Cubiris.)

Pyrare x anyone (canonically Aromantic)

Circubit x any female character/oc (canonically gay)

Blixer x Wave (don’t know much about the ship, but there’s apparently something wrong with it???? Idfk-)

Circumuscle x Cirtunda (Cirtunda adopts Circumuscle in my au, plus I don’t even think they’re close in age anymore. If you find past posts of me shipping them, it was BEFORE S2 Ep 1 of TPC came out, in which my au changed)

Marcle x Squadril, Marcle x Purpex, Squadril x Purpex (Purpex adopted Marcle and Squadril in my au)

Quintagon x Cubic (Literally just DNI. Why is this a ship.)

Friends list!

@comet--storm/@love--and--corruption - <333

@thatonepurpleshape -Silly ass goober, one of the first friends I made on this hellsite

@mfbees - Dumbass irl I dragged into the JSAB fandom /aff

@trash-jsab - Moderates my discord server, is da server parent :]

@anonymously-night - Also moderates my discord server, helps keep everything in check (THANK YOU 🙏🙏🙏)

@mugzymiik - cheese boy /j I’m fucking eating all your aus

@ebony-silly-zone - Hit it off with them when they first joined and now I blab to them about my aus :3

(if any of my mutuals wanna be added just ask :3 I know damn well I’ve forgotten some people)

Other blogs!

@jsab-pa - Art blog! (Run in character by Sen, one of my sonas)

@corrupted-chaoss, @corrupted-chaoss-fic An askblog and fic blog for my JSAB au, Corrupted Chaos

@lil-robo-idiot - Rp blog for my TPC oc, Penl

@coho-chat - Rp and ask blog for my ocs for the Bossfight album Caps On, Hats Off

@tpc-rp-blog - General rp blog so I’m not reblogging to my main

@sins-n-sinners - Ask blog co-run by Milo and Ebony

@uprises-on-your-grave - Askblog for Uprising, and band based on a Teminite album by the same name

Important links (to be updated)

Drama post. Don’t read if you don’t wanna get into it.

Addressing important allegations. More drama.

TPC headcanons

Sexual content and my ocs.

Pyrare and shipping.

My HOPE au vs my TPC au

Pink Heroes infodump!

My tags! (New as of this post)

#kit is on her shit again - rambling tag

#oh shit kit got a pencil - art posts

#why do you tolerate me :] - friend tag :3

#fuck me dude - vent tag, drama tag

#yay blood! :D - gore tag, art or writing

#kit focus on English class - fic tag and lore tag

#kit forgot how to draw - gacha tag

#kit go to sleep - anything I post in between 12am -6am my time (EST)

#kitty cat yaps - ask tag

#😭❓❓❓ - random thoughts

My aus + their abbreviations

Magenta Decedance - My TPC au - MD

Wilted Roses - TPC au, name subject to change to an actual one because it just has the name for the Cintasphere fic currently. Once name changes I will update the description - WR

Mistakes Were Made - An au focused on Circumcannon, where he snapped and killed his family - MWM

School Love Chaos - A college au focused on Cintagon and Circumsphere, Cintagon being the yandere - SLC

Iris Insanity - An au where Iris cracked under the pressure and corrupted - II

Adler’s Experiments - An experiment au focused on my Flowers Of Antimony, Addicus or Adler, who is experimenting on shapes with the corruption - AE

The Contract - An au where Zinnia, Dub’s successor, made a deal with Rot (the tree), and everything went to shit - TC

Lovebug - Penl, a pink hero like Cyanide, got a virus! And now the corruption makes you a yandere???? - LB

Triple Star Shoppe - Cintagon, Purpex, and Pirene (oc) started a business together! Cinta is a dollmaker, Purp is a chef, and Pi is a blacksmith. Something feels… off, though. - TSS

Sins and Sinners - An au focusing on the 7 Deadly Sins’ kids, who took over after they died. (Co owned by Milo and Ebony) - SnS

House of Horror - Come on in! We don’t bite :) - HoH

Not Of The Machine - One of my ocs, Penl, is the only human in a world full of robots. Thus he’s forced to stop the corruption since he’s immune (it’s a virus!) - NOTM

Crystalline Hivemind - An infection au with Amethyst :] - CH

Robotic Necromancy - The Chipzels died, but had their souls trapped in animatronics! What do you mean this is a FNAF au? - RN

False God - The Tree killed Circumsphere out of hatred for Cintagon, so he decided to rebel - FG

Hope - My version of the scrapped Hope series by Brittney Robinson - Hope

Corrupted Chaos - My main jsab au - CC

Purity. - A tree cult was started after the corruption event in CC, and its just as bad. - Purity

Neutralized Nemesis - Another jsab au, where all of the bosses are dating a hero (includes the beta heroes) - NN

Failed Opposition - A bad end jsab au - FO

My ships (and the au’s they’re in)

Pentellow x Iris (both poly) - All except Hope

Cube x Lythorus - All

Cintagon x Circumsphere - All, one sided in SLC

Rincle x Circumuscle - All

Polyhedron x Cirtunda - All

Pentellow x Ajaceare (also poly) - All

Quintagon x Ajaceare - Not in any due to age differences

Dub x Barracuda - All

Iris x Circubit (Poly once more) - All

Hexagram x Circumsphere (exes) - All except Hope, dominant ship in SLC

Cube x Iris - Hope

Cubical x Iris (exes) - All, not together

Cubical x Circubit (also exes) - All, not together

That’s it (for now)! Hope you enjoy your time on my blog!

Dividers made by @trash-jsab

[tea-with-evan-and-me]

I like your page, but for the last couple of days, it's been all about Emma and the domestic case. It's a little too much tbh (similar to the gftwd page when it was all about Frances). I think we all agree that we don't like her, so why waste our energy on her. Even if everyone in Hollywood would cancel her, Evan would probably stick up for her. I rather read some damn tea about the man. For example Alexia sexy blog about him.

i think it's worth talking about since i am sure you're not the only one who feels this way, not just about this topic but certainly about others. as far as i'm concerned it is perfectly fine to not be interested or enjoy certain topics we cover on this blog and want to sit them out; it's conversational, and more often than not there are multiple different topics simultaneously going on. i am here for discussion, and as i said in the beginning, this blog belongs to those that send messages in and engage as much as it does to me, and no reasonable topic will be barred. that means i am not always going to be at the steering wheel, but chances are i will have something to say.

i think the interesting thing i have learned over the past couple of months is that every week or two we kind of focus on a different topic, but it just happens organically. we also talk about things that seem to not be accepted on other platforms. and that's kind of the beauty of it: if you wanna talk about alexia, you can just send me an ask and we will talk about it. i see you don't follow me, and i am not cluttering evan's tags with the 20 DV discussion posts. or any posts, because i seldom tag anymore. so many new, bothersome (now blocked) people found me in the wake of the haley/evan reveal and they were sending in nasty, hateful things about her. i have probably deleted well over 100 asks. i don't need those followers. i would rather engage with the really cool, fun people who are already here.

also, it tickles me that whenever someone wants to burn me they compare me to gftwd, like she is donald trump or something lol ironically though, her page quite literally began as an effort to expose frances' misbehavior. so it was not unreasonable that all her posts were about fran, that was literally what any follower of hers signed up for. and so long as the critique was fair, there's nothing wrong with it. the issue that myself and many others found was the direction it ultimately took, in regards to the type of comments and criticism being made. i also think it's apples to oranges if someone were to compare the two, but that's because of my own personal belief system and how i feel about domestic abuse. i will outright tell you that i could not give a rat's ass if someone comes here and says something diabolical about emma, because she did something i view as evil, and the people who perpetrate a narrative that shames, blames and accuses a victim of DV are absolute scum in my eyes. i see frances as an irritant, a pest with a grating internet persona - but ultimately, she is nothing to lose sleep over. and i do not let people come on here and say cruel things about her for that reason.

[ms-moonlight-inn]

Tagged by @energievie and @thisdivorce to answer a few questions...

😍🤩😍🤩😍🤩

FIC WRITER INTERVIEW

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

27

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

394,606

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Zero to Six (Gallavich)

four hours' absence (Gallavich)

We're Really Bad At This, But We Ain't No Quitters (Gallavich)

The Horrified Nurse (Gallavich)

The Great Untitled Rimming Story (Gallavich)

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! Every single one! If you've taken the time to talk to me, I'll take the time to reply. Also, I'm a very chatty person, just try & get me to shut up, it's impossible. 😆

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I've yet to write a truly angsty ending, but Pacing The Back Room (Gallavich) has an ambiguous ending, as does one of my nonfiction pieces Voices in My Head.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Almost all of them have a happy ending, my favorite right now is Where You Find Me (Gallavich) because it just slices through several seasons worth of nonsense to get straight to sandals & tequila.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve written?

yuP! South Side & Royal Blue (Gallavich/RWRB) it's a one-shot right now. Eventually, I'll circle back & finish it.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Yes, I consider it a rite of passage.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes, all the way from veiled, romantic references to cocks & holes. 🤷🏻‍♀️ F/F, M/M, M/F

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Jesus, not that I know of.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet. But I have had one pod fic'ed. Maybe someday I'll translate some of mine to Spanish? 🤷🏻‍♀️

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I adore co-writing. I've written pieces with @stillbeatingheart , @jackieq , & @notherenewjersey . I've got another collab in the works, but that's a bit in the future.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

FAVORITE?! Don't ask me that! I love them all.

Gambit/Rouge was my first love.

Mickey/Ian the one I fell hardest for. The HARDEST.

Nick/Charlie gives me that blush of first love innocence.

Stede/Ed those stinky seamen.

Sgt. Warden/Karen Holmes forbidden love at its finest.

Frenchie/Kimiko I mean, damn.

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

😭😭😭 Don't make me cry!

There's a abo in RWRB that I really need to get my shit together & get done.

Also, a bilingual Gallavich fic that I keep procrastinating on.

15. What are your writing strengths?

I’d say managing scenes with an ensemble cast. Also maybe pacing? 🤷🏻‍♀️

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

OVERTHINKING! 🤬😡😤 Sometimes, it gets so bad, I can literally see it on the page. I'll go back to something I wrote in the past & I can point to the spot where I got caught up in my head 'cause the sentences look tortured to my eye.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Being bilingual, myself, I think it's important to include other languages whenever practical & authentic. A word here, a phrase there. It doesn't have to be an entire conversation, but a little snippet lends so much to the character's persona, I think.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Red, White, & Royal Blue

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

So far, this hasn't been a problem for me. If the idea comes, I write it. 😆 I've got a kernel of a fic for Sgt. Warden/Karen percolating; when it's fleshed out in my brain, I'll write it.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Love Me At Half-Light (the one almost nobody, but me likes 😆😂)

Ok, it looks like everyone has been tagged... I'll add @notherenewjersey @gallavichgeek @stillbeatingheart With absolutely no pressure to play. 💕🌹

[ciaossu-imagines]

Of course and sure thing. Oh damn, that’s so horrible. I was actually kind of spoiled about the events as well, not in what happened exactly but that it did happen since at the time of the chapter’s release I was away on holiday with my mum’s side of the family and I usually don’t bother to block the tag since most spoilers are something I can scroll past and they’re usually not too big since I read it every week but yeah, I saw something referring to what happened in that chapter and gods that hurt so we both unfortunately had to deal with it being spoiled, though with you it’s obviously much worse. And yay. Looking forward to hearing all your thoughts on everything that happened if you want to share it all. Oh, there really aren’t many chapters of Persona 3. I see. I also hope you don’t have to stay late and I’m glad to hear that you have another day off tomorrow. I see. Can imagine that being quit annoying. You calling caffeine god is amazing. And wow. How long does it take you to get through a pot? If you don’t mind answering. I managed to write a few points about the things that stood out luckily so yay to that. Oh damn, he really does look like Lavi from D. Gray-Man. And I see. That’s nice to know. Sure thing. I finished the last season of Demon Slayer that’s out now so I’ll probably be getting to it soon. Yeah, which is really understandable since A:TLA is just such an amazing series in so many ways. Of course and glad to hear you adored Zuko and true to his redemption arc. And I can’t blame you for Sokka being your first initial favourite since I also really like him and like every time he tells one of his silly jokes, I laughed so he’s definitely someone fun to have around.

Yeah, the Demon Slayer manga is just 205 chapters long. And the fact that it’s so short and still tells such an amazing story is yet another reason as to why I love it so much. Yeah. Like the final arc consists of two mini-arcs, one of 47 chapters and the last one is 22 chapters long, so it would entirely be possible to split it up since the last arcs that they adapted were like 30 chapters long, but I actually do presume that they won’t since the first season of Demon Slayer put all of the mini arcs of the first main arc into the season. And I honestly don’t mind what they do since I’ll always be looking forward to whatever there is of it. So I presume we’ll probably just have a longish last season, but I’m up for anything, as long as it’s adapted well. Okay. Cool. And I did and I was just like constantly fangirling and at times I couldn’t tell whether it’s because I was enjoying the sound of his voice or because what his character, Genya, was doing because he’s just such a precious boy. Thank you for saying that. He actually has a small first appearance in the fifth episode of the first season and then he’s gone and doesn’t properly appear until The Swordsmith Village Arc.

Thank you. It’s wild since I usually don’t forget things entirely so it’s a whole new experience for me. But the fact that it happened so early does help it make sense. Yeah. Though later on, there is this arc in Fairy Tail called ‘Key of the Starry Heavens arc’ and it is entirely filler but it’s still really enjoyable to watch. Gods, that’s me with Lawless’s song. And I see. I’m not sure about the Beyblade that you watched, but the Metal Saga series does have the opening song translated like that as well. The fact that Iruma is very musical does sound very nice. Of course it’s adorable. And now I’m looking even more forward to seeing it but I’ll still wait until I’m done with everything else I have to do and watch.

Yeah, true. Like I think the movie does but from what I’ve heard / seen, the movie concentrates more on the characters themselves than the actual match which makes no sense because both are really important. And yeah, it definitely did. Like this match that was adapted is 34 chapters long and when the movie was first announced, people were talking about how it’d have to be a 5 hour long movie for all of that to be properly adapted. And the thing is, the saddest thing of all is that we’re not even sure we’ll be getting another season. There were two movies set to be released, so this one and another one that will come out who knows when, and the initial poster to advertise it was ‘Haikyū!! Final’ which just does not sound great so now me and other Haikyuu!! fans are hoping that the studio will use all the money they got from the ticket sales and other stuff to make a proper fifth season. Sure thing 💕 Hell yeah and Hinata has such an amazing moment at the beginning of the second season that people still referrer to to this day. I see. That makes sense. But yeah, none of the Haikyuu!! babies are one-note and that’s just another great thing about the series. And yes to all those things of you describing him.

Me too but it’s really difficult because she’s not very good at seeing the wrong in her ways. Like say if I were to tell her about it, she’d get so offended and she thinks she’s in the right for saying what she did. Yes, the fighting style really is. Like it is hinted at in the opening, but it’s nothing compared to seeing it in action and it’s just so cool 😭 And yes, be excited about him. I love the Shinazugawa brothers, what more can I say. Oooh. That sounds like such a  lovely flavour. And that makes perfect sense. I hope you and your friend had a wonderful time together. Oh and that does sound like a good idea since then it’s all nicely together.

C

I’m so sorry to hear you got spoiled on that as well! I can definitely get not blocking the tag – I just did it because I know that if I see a spoiler, I’m going to read it instead of scrolling past, just because I can’t resist that temptation, haha! It sucks though that you got spoiled like that on such a big reveal, because I can imagine how much impact it would have had for people who didn’t know it was coming! And you know, it’s funny, because I’m as caught up as my manga app had (up to Chapter 254), but I don’t really have a lot of thoughts on it. I feel like the story is an absolutely brilliant one, the author is an insanely gifted technical writer because his use of things like foreshadowing and visual storytelling is gorgeous. I feel like I have solid grasps on the characters enough to write them; I know quite a few people excited to have me write them, so I’m going to. Overall, I very much enjoy the story and am excited to see how the rest of the story plays out to it’s ending, which is very close obviously. The writer’s storytelling has been well-paced for the most part, there’s little unnecessary drag or tangents, I’m going to be surprised if the series is still going active in even December of this year. I figure by early fall, absolutely latest, it’s ending with it being weekly. However, I can’t say I’ve fallen in love with this one like I have some of the other fandoms. Comparing my love for say, Servamp, K Project, or KHR and my love for Jujutsu Kaisen – my love for Jujutsu Kaisen is the little, tiny plastic cup you get to take your medicine with and the love for those other series is the big bottle of medicine. Again, the creator is absolutely a gifted storyteller. I fully believe they’ve known a least a full half an arc to a full arc ahead of where the story was currently what was going to happen, and I have zero doubts whatsoever that they’ve had at least a couple ideas as to an ending since the beginning and have a full, clear view of how everything’s ending now. Their world is well-built and constructed, their power-sets well figured out. They’re a tight writer with great focus and there are parts of their writing and visual storytelling that I wish I was even 1/10th as good at as a writer. However, I always kind of feel like JJK is very much a case of the story driving the characters and not the characters driving the story. When it comes to the JJK characters, I very much do feel like they were all created because the creator needed a character to advance the story or to fill an essential role in the story and that when it came to creating them, their characters were built around what role they needed to play and what they needed to accomplish so they feel less to me like real, actual people like some characters from other media and more like…just characters. Don’t get me wrong here, because both types of storytelling and character creation are entirely valid and both can be exceptionally well-done. JJK is a prime example of story-driven media done exceptionally well, if not completely brilliantly (because let’s remember, at the bottom of story-driven media, we have things like Twilight, which is that type of storytelling done exceptionally poorly). But I feel like most people are drawn more to one type of story-telling process than the other and I’m just more overall compelled by character-driven storytelling so JJK is in that ‘technically brilliant, I really enjoy it, but can’t get obsessed with it like some others can’ field.

Anyway, now that I’ve probably infuriated or offended some of the JJK fans, onto the rest of the message, haha! There really aren’t that many chapters of any of the Persona manga that I’ve found, so I’m kind of hoping that they’re all just really sort manga and that I’m not reading incomplete ones! And thank you for the well-wishes for the day off. Unfortunately, I had impromptu plans sprung on me that day that ate up most of my day, which made me a little cranky, not going to lie. I’m doing all I can to keep with commission timelines though, even with Etsy and real life…might require some burning of the midnight oil, but I’m holding up and doing well 😊 Yeah, caffeine is the god I worship, haha, as someone who isn’t overly religious. I don’t usually go through a pot that quickly though. Most mornings, I make the standard 12-cup pot around 6:30 and keep it on warm until I finish it around noonish. That day though, gone in about three hours, give or take. It’s not even keeping me awake so much anymore, thanks to having such a high caffeine tolerance, it’s more to keep away the migraines and because I find coffee soothing and sometimes, all I need is a short break to make a cup of coffee, just move and have a moment away from the computer to get the next burst of inspiration for what to write next. I’m excited to read those then! And I’m glad I’m not the only one who saw the resemblance then, even if it’s been a dog’s age since I actually watched or read D. Gray-Man. I wonder if that series ever wrapped up…things for later Dee to look up, I think! Speaking of Demon Slayer though, I paused everything else I was watching because I got in the mood to watch that. So I’m done the first season and the Mugen Train movie. However, when I go to the next season, it’s a really short season that just looks like the movie? I need to figure out if Crunchyroll just screwed up and put the movie into episodes or if those Mugen Train episodes are actually episodes or not, so I need to Google that too. Just every time I sit down at the computer, I get to working on creating playlists and storyboards for all the commissions instead of googling that, haha. I’m really enjoying it so far, though I’m pissed at the movies ending, because I thought I finally found a character that would be my favourite and then it was like the anime decided to just be laugh and be like ‘ha, fuck you’ lmao. I’m excited to continue it, just need to clear that up first! And Avatar is just incredible. I hope everyone has at least given it a try, and if any of my readers haven’t, please go check it out. You won’t be disappointed you did, I promise 😊 Sokka was definitely my initial favourite because of the comic relief, though I remember really liking Toph after her introduction too!

It still amazes me that the author was able to tell a complete and full story of the magnitude that Demon Slayer seems to be setting it’s story up in that few of chapters. It must have been very well-paced and without any extras then! I wish I could find the manga to read, though I am very much enjoying the anime (and to answer before the question is asking, I am watching the dub because it makes it so much quicker to watch). Thank you for explaining that and it’s really neat that the final arc was divided like that! I wonder if they’ll do a season for the first mini-arc then and a final movie to end it all, because that might be interesting if they do. I really enjoyed the first movie, felt it moved along well and was mostly well done (my biggest complaint about Demon Slayer so far is that sometimes the CGI is super noticeable and visually jarring and fuck me, were those CGI train tentacles something else and entirely unpleasant visually in that movie). I haven’t got to see much more of Genya other than Selection, where obviously you weren’t seeing the best of him. In fact, he was pretty damn easy to hate in that episode but still interested me, so I’m looking forward to re-encountering him in The Swordsmith Village Arc.

No problem, of course 😊 And I feel like a lot of the Bleach filler arcs were very forgettable, so I wouldn’t worry any! I definitely haven’t seen that particular filler arc of Fairy Tail, or if I have, I forgot it entirely, but I will check it out when I do a Fairy Tail reread! Thanks for the heads up on that! You know, I hadn’t thought about that, but I’m pretty sure the Beyblade I watched had an English opening song too, come to think of it! It’s been a real long time since I watched it, though it’s in my rewatch list (along with Digimon Adventures and Yu-Gi-Oh!, like the child I am, haha!). Yay, I’m excited for when you eventually get around to it 😊 And that sounds like a movie that I would absolutely adore, since I do love me some character focus, but if that was the only adaption the match got and it was an important match, then it also should have been shown and focused on in its entirety as well, so I can get the frustration. And it definitely sounds like it was a very important match, to have stretched across that many chapters, so I am so sorry the movie was such a let down. It also sucks to hear there might not be another season! It doesn’t make sense for them to wrap everything up in just two movies! Especially since a movie can’t realistically cover more than 20 decent-length chapters without rushing! I’m excited to get to that Hinata moment then 😊 And yeah, I’m noticing that about the Haikyuu characters and am appreciating the characterization in it, especially compared to some other sports manga I’ve watched or read. I’m sorry to hear that. I know people like that and do know how hard they can be to deal with, so I wish you luck and peace! I am very excited, actually, to see all the Hashira’s fighting styles, now that I’ve met them and seen at least one of theirs (somewhat…the Hashira did really little fighting in comparison to the others but we won’t get into my feelings on that.) And thank you 😊 We had had a lovely time! I hope you’re doing amazing, my dear!

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

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Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.

Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.

My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.

We good? Alright.

So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.

Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.

And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.

Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.

So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:

The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.

The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel

The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)

So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.

The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security

So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.

Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature. 

Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.

So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.

However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.

By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.

The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.

It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.

So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.

However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?

From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in). 

So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.

Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.

Then we have the protections.

Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.

Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird. 

Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.

More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket. 

Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.

More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.

Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.

What kind of a person would do any of this?

I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.

Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.” 

The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death

I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.

Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.

He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.

There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.

And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.

He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.

He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.

Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend).  Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.

Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!

And the castle parties.

The Nature of Horcruxes

I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.

However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).

Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.” 

One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.

However, to me that never really jived philosophically.

Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most. 

The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are). 

In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.

Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again. 

As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too. 

And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.

TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner

[uwuwriting]

Road trip w/ Kaminari, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Shinso, Kami, and Bakugou on a long trip/plane ride with their S/o? Happy holidays bb! - 🥐

I wish I could go on a trip. I need Christmas break to last longer, I’m not ready to go back to school and study for uni, I’m not emotionally capable. I hate it here.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: fluff

Kaminari Denki

-You have a mini fight about who gets to drive at first. 

-You don’t trust him because he is dumb and bisexual and he believes that you’ll fall asleep ont he wheel cuz you stayed up until like 2 am the previous day downloading music and making playlists for the journey. 

-He gets to drive the first shift and it goes relatively well.

-You get some extra sleep, he enjoys his time behind the wheel and boom you’re now at a gas station having brunch before hitting the road again.

-Karaoke driving. 

-I think that’s all I have to say about your road trip with this guy. 

-HE will ignore the playlists with the soft songs because he needs to vibe at first. 

-Kills it with the Shakira impressions like you start wondering what would happen if he suddenly decides to follow a music career like Jiro. 

-So many bathroom stops. 

-Does this man have a prostate problem because damn.

-He can’t go for more than an hour without stopping to pee. 

-The one time you ask to stop at a gas station for a bathroom break he suggests just stopping at the side of the road and you could pee there. 

- “I do it so you can too.” 

-Denki honey I don’t have a dick to wip out…...I need essentials. 

-May or may not have taken the wrong exit at some point and you took a thirty minute detour. 

-At least you got some nice photos out of it. 

-Speaking of photos. 

-Your camera roll will be filled with selfies, stupid videos of Kami hyping himself up at a red light. 

-Races with other cars at said red lights. 

-You fear for your life most of the time, grasping the door handle like your life depended on  it because in reality it kinda did. 

-You beg him to take over and drive for a little bit but he brushes you off. 

- “You seem tired baby, let me drive for a bit.” 

- “Nope I’m perfectly fine Y/N. Gonna get us to the hotel so fucking fast.” 

- “Denki no-”

-He calms down after a while, and he lets you put on your soft playlist so you could both just vibe. 

-His hand is resting on your thigh, giving it a few firm squeezes every now and then. 

-He likes drumming the beat of the song on your skin.

-You start random conversations about anything and everything and if you’re being honest you love these types of moments. 

-There are no villains to fight, no danger in the horizon *apart from his driving* and you get to enjoy the tranquility while enjoying the ride.

-Denki starts telling you about adopting a dog and you joke that he would be a horrible dog dad. 

- “Maybe cats are better for you babe.” 

-You are no longer heroes. 

-You are just a couple going on a road trip, away from all your troubles and worries just you and him. 

-You reach the hotel later than you expected though…..it was those damn bathroom breaks!!!

Shinsou Hitoshi

-The trip is spontaneous. 

-You were both chillin in your apartment when he popped the question. 

- “Wanna go on a trip? I’m bored.” 

-You never expected him to pick a place this far away, you weren’t complaining though. 

-Road trips with him are immaculate. 

-He helps you pack your bags in no time, picking your favorite outfits out and placing them in your travel bags along with a bunch of snacks and a fluffy blanket. 

-You hit the road in less than an hour.

-It’s still dark out when you start your trip and Hitoshi insists you take a nap, get your beauty sleep while he drives. 

- “Don’t worry we won’t crash, I hope.”

-You do take a nap eventually but not for long and you wake up just in time to watch the sunrise with your boyfriend. 

-He will pull over and take pictures with the sunrise as your background. 

-He says he needs a new wallpaper on his phone and there’s an empty picture frame at his desk back at work. 

-He needs to fill them somehow. 

-Around noon he brings the fluffy blanket in the front seat, wrapping it around you so you can snuggle and possibly fall asleep again. 

-In reality he wants to take more pictures of  you with drool dripping down your chin for blackmail purposes but you will not yield !!!

-The trip is mainly filled with music and low humming coming from the both of you. 

-Though when a love song that reminds him of you comes on he will lean over and grip your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze, a blush blooming on his cheeks. 

-Makes many stops in spots that look great for photos or having an amazing view. 

-Definitely has prepared a picnic basket and before you know it you are munching down on some sandwiches he made while your feet are dangling over a small cliff you happened to come across. 

-Shares random facts about nature and animals with you. 

-Shinsou strikes me as a guy who watches a lot of documentaries and animal planet shows, so he has obtained random information and now he is explaining the mating cycle of penguins. 

-Would definitely prefer to sleep in the car and not rent a room. 

-He wants to stay outside looking at the stars for as long as possible and then snuggle up with you in the driver's seat, your head against his chest and his hand buried in your hair. 

-If you want to go to a hotel because you feel more comfortable, he won’t complain. 

-As long as he gets to cuddle you anything is fine in his book. 

-He puts on YOUR song while you are looking at the sky and invites you to dance with him. 

-Wraps his arms around your waist and slowly sways you back and forth, following the rhythm of the song as he looks into your eyes. 

-He loves capturing the moment so expect many photos to be taken and a bunch of videos of you two dancing. 

-He has his crackhead moments though so you can expect to be shoved into the water if you’re near a lake or at the beach. 

-He might draw a mustache on you while you sleep but don’t worry you get payback when he is asleep. 

Bakugou Katsuki 

-Whines while you back everything. 

-And when I say whines I mean he grumbles under his breath about this stupid shirt that he can’t seem to fold correctly.

-Anyways once you hit the road he is more relaxed than usual. 

-He keeps this tight, aggressive persona out in public you sometimes forget that this man, this amazing partner is also a pro hero who is known for his rough edges. 

-Sure, his explosive behavior doesn’t disappear when he is with you but he is a lot tamer and calm around you.

-During the car ride he makes small talk with you, sharing random events from his patrols and stupid shit his “squad” have done while out in public. 

-When he comes home every night he is just so tired that many details slip his mind as he recounts his day to you, seeing him right now a genuine smile gracing his lips as his only focus is the road in front of him really warms your heart. 

-He becomes more affectionate. 

-Hand gripping yours while he drives or his palm on your thigh, rubbing your soft skin as he hums along with the music. 

-Even if he needs to switch gears he won’t let go.

-Surprisingly he is the type to put on an audio book after a while. 

-Usually it's after your wedding song is over or soon after that. 

-Your song is like a trigger and suddenly sophisticated Bakugou emerges asking you to pick an audiobook from his collection and put it on. 

-Gets really invested in the story and pauses it every five minutes so you can discuss it. 

- “She could have escaped through the window why the fuck did she let herself get caught?” 

- “No Katsu!!! She needs to make sure the prince is alive!!” 

- “That’s fucking dumb!” 

-Let’s you take candid pictures of him and won’t complain when you coo over how pretty he looks with the sun behind him. 

-Don’t worry he is plotting to fill his gallery of pics of you sleeping. 

-When you actually fall asleep he will turn the radio down and hum softly under his breath. 

-If it starts raining heavily he will pull over and wait for it to calm down a bit. 

-My personal headcanon is that Katsuki has a car with a skylight *if that’s what its called* so he brings the seats down and you lay there admiring the rain falling onto the glass. 

-He likes talking about more serious matters when you are like this. 

-From your future to what pet your future kids could have. 

-If you get cold while waiting for the rain to calm down, he has a blanket on the ready. 

-He places you on his chest and drapes the blanket over you, enjoying your warmth and the filling of your pulse under his fingertips. 

-Might get a little emotional if a slow song is playing. 

-He is just too overwhelmed by his emotions at times like these, when he can hold you and feel the pure love and adoration flow between the two of you like water. 

-I love you’s are exchanged and many kisses. 

-When he starts driving again he is so refreshed, it’s like a completely different person. 

-Gas station stops and bathroom breaks are a nightmare cuz he keeps hyping himself up in order to go into Bakugou public mode. 

-You just want your Katsuki, the cuddly Katsuki. 

TAG TEAM AY: 

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[mrawkweird]

Top 5 favorite Male and Female Wrestlers and Why?

Edge: I think he can be responsible for officially getting me back into the world of wrestling full time back in 2004-05. His run towards becoming a champion and how psychotic and obsessed it made him was just really cool to me. The night he cashed in the MITB contract to become WWE Champion was just so special for many reasons. it solidified what that briefcase could mean for years to come, it gave the people someone that could actually topple "Super Cena" and it finally gave Edge the very thing he's burned every single bridge to get. He's the first and for a time only bad guy that ever made me actually root for them. Not to mention he had the most badass theme and entrance on the roster and today that still holds true. It is impossible for anyone to be cooler than Edge to me.

Victoria: She was and always will be not the lady to mess with. Victoria was right up there with Edge for me in the realm of psychotic badasses. Hell, I even hoped they would end up being paired together before Lita came and showed why that spot was hers. I always really enjoyed Victoria's character though and her finisher Widow's Peak is some sick shit. Best believe I had her wrecking everybody in SVR 2009.

The Miz: As far as I'm concerned anyone that can bring themselves to actually dislike The Miz and think he hasn't earned every right to achieve the things he has hasn't been paying attention. WWE themselves are even sleeping if they honestly think they shouldn't let him have a real run with THE title again. He has more than proved countless times that he can carry a show, carry a feud and carry a championship to absolute relevancy. Miz is a main event caliber star and as the music states he is in fact AWESOME. Punk's jealous-ass can kick rocks.

Mickie James: That woman has accomplished so much in the industry and for the industry that she is worthy of every single flower you could give her. And to top it all off she's not even remotely close to done. With everything that she's doing now it should cause the person that picked up that trash bag to cut their hands off out of sheer shame. She should be right up on that pedestal with Trish and Lita and so should Victoria. Not to mention she is finer than any wine you could find in a cellar 'cause GOODT LORDT.

Bray Wyatt: Truly the definition of infinite potential because you know that mind and his creativity will never stop rising. There is no such thing as a glass ceiling no matter how much WWE wanted it to be there. I look forward to seeing what he does next because from swamp cult leader to devil incarnate to demonic Mister Rogers to slasher killer Bray has hit shit out of the park every time. Everyone should be scared and excited for what comes next because that creative monster is loose and as he says; you can't kill it.

Jade Cargill: That woman is a goddamn amazon directly from Themyscira. She has not been in the game long but damn if she doesn't have my utmost attention every time she's on screen. She just captures it like she captures her opponents in the ring because she is as advertised and that is DAT BITCH. I look forward to seeing her rise in the industry and only getting better.

Roman Reigns: If star power was a person it would be Roman Reigns. He is someone that was always capable of having that very thrown around "IT" and it took WWE such a long time to actually let him utilize that to it's fullest potential. He is the "Head Of The Table" and the "Tribal Chief for a reason. People like to bring it up in discussion about who's the better champion for their company; Roman Reigns or Kenny Omega and for me that's always been a very easy question if I had to choose. Nothing at all personal against Omega but to quote Reigns himself there are levels to this. Levels that nobody else is touching right now as THE champion of their respective company. At least not to me. Honestly in the end you have to appreciate that it took WWE such a long time because now it makes his current persona all the more sweeter.

(I'm going to cheat a bit but I have to put these 2 together..) Asuka & Kairi Sane: When I tell you that these 2 became a match made in heaven the moment they turned heel to win those Tag Team Championships you have to believe me. Their initial face run was all a bit questionable. As questionable as the name "Kabuki Warriors" was itself but it was that heel run that made it all gel so perfectly. They were fucking magic together and just played off each other so well. Hell, they did so well they were the main event of TLC against Charlotte and Becky AND they fucking won. I still feel bad about Kairi in that match though. She earned every right to get to enjoy that moment and unfortunately she couldn't. Kabuki Warriors 5 Life.

LA Knight: In my head it's always going to be "E-LI DRAKE" but he is another person that just oozes the vibe that "This is your guy, this is who you should be building your brand around" and if the company he's in doesn't get that same vibe then they better not waste his time. He is honestly what got me back into watching Impact Wrestling with just how good he was every time he was on screen. He was THE reason to watch anything they were doing and I'm not saying that to be insulting; it's just a fact of life. No matter what's about to happen to NXT I hope to see him still be able to get to the level he should be there which is at the very top. His career is something I intend to follow no matter where he goes.

Hikaru Shida: She's all around just a personal favorite of mine. When it comes to her I ain't even gonna try to be unbiased. Her look and her in-ring style just had me hooked from the get go. So much so that when they introduced the AEW Women's Championship for the first time it just seemed destined for her and best believe I was ecstatic when she finally won it. I'm always going to really wish she got more TV time during her reign as champion though. And it may just be me wishful thinking but I feel like she might be up to something on Dark Elevation and the day she finally comes back to the main show I think she's going to bring something new with her.

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Nightwing 83 Review

guess who isn't weeks late this time. my opinion of the series is going up a little bit. it's still not great, but i'm not actively put off by it anymore the way i was after 81. not going to tag as spoilers, but be warned that they are under the cut

i’m sure you all are well aware of this but now, but dear god i love bruno redondo’s art. like, an unhealthy amount. the pink and blue is getting to be a theme with either him or just this run, but i am definitely enjoying it. the movement in this cover is clearly obvious, but well done. you recoznize right off the bat that the cover was drawn to drag your eyes down the page until you get to the bottom, but you enjoy the whole ride there. 

also, redondo’s way of drawing a character in stages of action so we can see just how much they’re doing in a split second of movement is quickly becoming something i like to see drawn with dick, and any other character that has that sort of ease of movement and body sense, like cass or sin or maybe a super. 

and he’s in action the entire time! there’s shot drawn just to show off a shirtless comic book character, the way nightwing is so often subjected to. he’s shirtless because he’s changing his clothes, and that’s all we see, no more and no less. very practical, very well done. i like it.

he looks so cute right here oh my god. the little squint, the hair curls. it’s adorable.

but also like. unless melinda has specifically outfitted the door spyhole so that the person on the other side can’t see dick looking through it (and in all honesty she might have) then everyone on the other side can see dick looking through that door. 

bringing your attention back to the “i can’t see melinda’s fbi file oh no!! it’s redacted!! whatever can we do!!” stupidity. redacted files are child’s play for oracle, and definitely doable for both dick and bruce. so that’s bullshit.

now, melinda apparently grew up with the maroni family, then took down part of the family from the inside. the maroni family is a large and notable presence in gotham, one that bruce pays a respectable amount of attention to. he definitely would have grown suspicious when two members of the maroni family were taken down, and with some investigation, he would have discovered melinda’s plan. and it should go without saying that the majority of things you see batman doing? dick can do it too.

it’s not so much that i don’t like how clever the villains/antiheroes are getting. i don’t like how dc heroes are increasingly written as less intelligent. they seem to be relying on pure fighting skills or luck, which may be the case for a couple heroes, but has never been the case for most of dc’s big name heroes, the bat family included. it’s irritating to me to see this sort of stuff pop up as a major plot point when i know that, if dick or bruce had been written with the amount of skill and power that they canonically possess, this entire mess would have been sorted out years ago.

unrelated but dick and melinda have the same hair

this may just be me, but i was always under the impression that dick doesn’t really have a “double life???”

yes, he’s talented enough to create enough differences between robin/nightwing and dick grayson’s mannerisms, way of movement, voices, and speech patterns so that it’s very difficult to put the two together.

but nightwing has never been separate from dick grayson, not the way bruce and batman is. he’s always leaned more towards clark in that aspect: his hero persona is an exaggerated, stately, larger-than-life version of who he really is. there’s no second persona, no real “dick grayson identity” and “nightwing identity.” they’re the same person with the same goals, ideas, and skills. one just pretends to abide by the law, and one gives up pretense of that.

oh good thank god. if he’d trusted her right off the bat (hehe. bat.) i would have slapped him upside the head. at least he’s still got instincts.

gosh the colouring on this is cool. the red has enough purple and pink tones to it that it doesn’t abruptly ruin the tone of the artwork. but it’s definitely glaring enough to take the reader outside of this personal moment they had slipped into between dick and melinda, to put them back in the present where they’re reminded that oh yea there are people hunting dick down. 

the next panel keeps this up too, in a less severe way. melinda’s bodyguard shows up (i forgot her name sorry :[ ) and subtly places us in the middle of an action scene rather than a private, personal scene.

laughing so fucking hard have our little vigilantes grown so accustomed to breaking into places that it doesn’t even register as a crime anymore??? tim coming in through the fire escape to pick bernard up for their date and being very much confused as to why bernard is freaking out.

i really like melinda’s shirt and now despite all the work i have to do and the fucking conference i have to host on monday i want to spend hours scrolling through clothing shops online trying to find this shirt. the mock neck/neckline is so cool i want it

so roland just assumes that a very dangerous vigilante who is highly talented in combat and a very dangerous bodyguard who is also highly talented in combat had a fight that ended with this very dangerous bodyguard being tied up and she looks completely fine? roland just assumes that her having no visible wounds or bruises means that they got into a fight and she lost that easily? uh. aight then

dick what are you doing. legitimately what the fuck are you doing. why are you posing oh my god. you are injured and tired and in absolutely no position to go hand to hand with one of main enemies. jesus christ run away or head to lower ground or something. don’t just stand around letting the floodlights show exactly where you are.

i don’t understand what he’s trying to do here??? blockbuster fully bought the story that dick fought them both, won, tried to get info out of them and failed, then hightailed it out of there. he didn’t have to draw roland out for a fight.

but it does look cool. the way the light just highlights his silhouette and the blue parts of his costume does look badass. he does get style points in my book for this.

w h a t  d i d  i  f u c k i n g  t e l l  y o u ,  d i c k ?

very classic superhero line and it does sound like something dick would say in a fit of righteous rage but also it makes me laugh so hard because all vigilantes think they’re so powerful that the law doesn’t apply to them. dick vigilantism is illegal. you’re acting above the law and pretending it doesn’t apply to you. hypocritical much?

it happens so often in superhero movies, tv shows, comics, whatever and it makes me giggle every damn time.

pretty decent comeback but before i start seeing people writing blockbuster as a thug i’m going to remind you that he made a deal with a demon for genius level intellect. if this turns into another bane situation i’m going to be a little miffed. he’s a smart man, which makes him a dangerous and infinitely more interesting enemy for nightwing.

this is so horribly in character i want to scream. (or. at least. it lines up with one of the versions of nightwing i have in my head.) he’s running right towards the bullets, miraculously doesn’t get shot, while making a sort-of pun. i hate this so much. i love him.

this is cool. this art is really really cool.

he leaped from a building right towards a helicopter that’s actively shooting at him, but none of the bullets are touching him. none of the corruption of the city can touch him no matter how hard it tries, because he’s too good to be corrupted. Comic Book Logic Can Be Good Sometimes Actually.

batman’s belt what??? swiss army knife who?? sorry, i only know nightwing’s bright blue escrima.

this is one of my favourite things about heroes with exceptional abilities, even more so if the hero is human. the things they can do are so far beyond the realm of normal human abilities that it’s equal parts terrifying and awe-inspiring every time they act.

he just used modified grappling wires to hook to the door of a moving helicopter, swung around the helicopter safely without hitting the blades, gained exactly the right momentum to swing upward again right through the opening of helicopter, then fought and tied up the men before they had any idea what was happening. that’s near impossible to do.

it’s stuff like this where i just sort of sigh in contentment. no matter how many times they leave out dick’s detective skills or conveniently forget that he’s actually a master planner and team leader and make him out to be this forgetful dude who makes everything up on the fly because of his “circus roots,” at least they won’t ever take away dick’s sheer physical ability honed to perfection. 

the art, too! in a few panels, dick’s drawn a little lightened or blurred. he’s moving so quickly and fighting so efficiently that he can barely be seen by the enemy. he’s got perfect form all the way through.

and THIS!

there was a helicopter that had five men shooting at him with what looks like machine guns. most people would be dead. some would run away, and be nimble enough to survive without fatal hits. there are very few people, even in fucking comic books, who can look at that hopeless situation and turn it around so quickly and thoroughly that he benefits from it instead.

i just. love nightwing.

it was funny the first time as a comic reader aware of the meme. it’s really not anymore. why the hell would you, in universe, be wearing a shirt that has a picture of your boyfriend being hit in the face by his father. 

okay that was funny. 

look at lil bitewing, so concerned for her human!!! love her sm. 

also a question as to the timeline of things. is nightwing happening before or after urban legends? 

i was so distracted by dick wearing a robe and briefs and nothing else that i didn’t register the second part until later. he slept for two days?? babs, baby, he recently had a very traumatic brain injury. why do you sound so nonchalant?

@TIM X COFFEE SHIPPERS GET FUCCCCKKKKEEDDDDD

ngl i totally forgot about that dude oops

this comic is giving so many reaction pictures. you know how you always use the worst possible picture of your friend for your friend’s contact picture? i’m just getting so many of these.

leslie!!! the titans!!! lucius!!! dick going to go see old friends!!!! the titans!!! this part made me so irrationally happy it really did. gar being the one to just. offer dick solutions with open arms. this was the best

i wish i could just copy and paste this entire scene, but that would take up way too much space, so i’m just going to talk about it instead. 

you gave me my name, nightwing, and you gave me some of the best advice i’ve received in my life: beautiful little throwback to nightwing’s origin. you’d be surprised at the amount of people who don’t know where the name came from, or who don’t know how much clark means to dick. and the fact that dick still looks up to clark as a hero, recognizes that clark isn’t always perfect and yet continues to hold him in such high esteem, and still looks back on advice that clark gave him fondly just warmed my heart so much.

for a man who has fearlessly stood up to darkseid, bruce will do a lot to avoid a conversation: “grrr. i’m the BATMAN. i’m so DARK and MYSTERIOUS. nobody knows the true me. no one ever will. i will be LONELY for the rest of my CURSED LIFE. such is the price of a hero. ignore my farmer himbo husband in the background”

but i don’t think there’s anything heroic about being a billionaire: another nod to how much dick follows clark’s example rather than bruce. yes, this was a very poignant and important criticism, and i think it’s wonderful that this was published in a pretty popular comic book. but the thing is, there is a way to be a heroic billionaire, but only in fictional universes. the way bruce, ollie, t’challa only ever use their wealth to help people. they donate massive amounts of money to charities that they themselves create so they know exactly how the money is being used. they hire people who aren’t likely to get jobs anywhere else and pay them much more than what a base living wage is. they use their power to help push progressive laws and social change. they are helping. 

dick doesn’t fully see it that way. he spent more than half his childhood the son of a billionaire, but still believes that one could be more heroic when one doesn’t have obscene amounts of wealth. whose example do you think he followed to come to that conclusion?

superman looked up to alfred pennyworth?: i mean yea alfred may have been a wildly irresponsible guardian and one hell of an enabler but goddamn if he didn’t love his kid.

you don’t need my input. you’ve thought it all through: ooooooh this line made me grin. for so long, dick’s treated clark as a mentor and a guiding figure. he’s still seen as a kid, an up and coming, snot-nosed titan with dreams of a better world. clark still thinks of him as a kid, despite watching him grow up. but this little line was something i think dick needed sorely to hear. he doesn’t need anyone’s guiding hand on his shoulder, he doesn’t need to ask for permission. he doesn’t need clark to support him the way he did when he was a teenager. he’s all grown up now, and he doesn’t need clark’s help. i imagine it was a bit of a surprise for dick to hear that. 

honestly, i couldn’t think of a better role model: ohhh but it doesn’t stop there. clark just straight up turns the tables on dick. imagine you’re dick, and you’ve looked up to this one hero your entire life, and then one day he turns to you and says that he thinks you’re so kind and smart and worthy of a person that he wants you to mentor his son!? goes to show just how much clark trusts dick.

i swear to god dick probably cries every time he hears clark compliment him because bruce is so rare and sparing with his praise that clark giving him the slightest hint of approval is just a dopamine rush.

also, now deathstroke and superman have both asked nightwing to mentor their kids. the juxtaposition is fuckin hysterical. imagine either of their reactions when they realize what kind of company they’re with

lets talk colours for a second, because i absolutely adore how classic colour tropes have been subverted in this comic, and in this general run really.

warm tones have usually (usually, not always) been associated with light and comfort and friendship and,,,,,well,,,warmth. whereas cool tones are usually used to unsettle, or make a scene seem colder and put the reader on edge. this varies if a comic only uses cool tones, or only uses warm tones, but if a comic uses both, this is generally well-used.

that isn’t the case in this run.

dark red, orange, and other warm tones have been used to symbolize danger, action, attacks. hot pink isn’t usually included in this colour group, but it’s definitely part of it in this case. in contrast, scenes that have cool colours give us the impression of slipping into a comfortable, calm scene with babs, tim, the titans, and other allies. even the beginning scene with superman has this blue, but then it transitions into something more golden coloured. dawn broke over dick, as his new idea came to light, and that was reflected in the art (and the sunrise setting.)

have there ever been times when dick’s longed for the comfort of his mask because he didn’t feel confident as dick grayson? i can’t think of any. i may be wrong, but this struck me as pretty ooc.

am i just??? gay and reading this all wrong??

cause i was under the impression that when someone says they are grateful for your friendship you don’t immediately kiss them. 

or is this like. normal straight mating rituals.

i mean he’s smiling afterward but still babs aren’t you supposed to at least make sure it’s okay first? you guys broke up a while back after you said something along the lines of “i want to be coworkers with you and nothing more because i don’t trust you or feel comfortable around you as a civilian anymore.” like lmao after you say something like that to someone i would assume that you don’t have the permission to just kiss them whenever you want.

show of hands who else got real sad when they realized dick was talking about himself in this.

sure, he could be referencing the things he’s seen blockbuster pull, and the children on the streets. but “i’ve seen money used for enforcement,” sounds a little too close to dick’s entire life being destroyed by one man threatening the circus to pay protection money for me to completely ignore. and “i’ve seen the poorest and most vulnerable blamed and punished rather than assisted” becomes a lot worse when you remember dick was thrown in juvie for a couple months until bruce was able to obtain legal guardianship, and in there, not a authority figure believed him when he told them his parents were murdered.

he’s lived this before.

a. mother. fucking. typo.

fucking why

i mean i’ve stated my distaste for the batfamily groupchat before but like. this is reaching new levels of ridiculousness. jason sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. tim sounds like he was written by a fanfic writer. steph sounds like she was written by someone who doesn’t know the first thing about steph and wanted to include her for “family points!!!!!” damian’s supposed to be completely off the grid, and everyone’s searching for him. i do love the way cass texts tho.

well god fuck now i’m crying

dick got a phone call, a sorry, and a thank you out of bruce. i feel so much secondhand happiness for him, if that’s a thing. we’ll just ignore the way bruce looks ugly af and focus on the good parts okay?

and again with the colour symbolism here!

i’m either going to love this or hate this. who knows, we’ll see.

something something hearts something something pink is an evil colour something something. i need to know more about this guy but there’s definitely symbolism there. 

is it just me or does this dude look like the backstabbing traitorous absolutely motherfucking piece of shit villain that killed tadashi hamada in big hero 6?

~~

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[jlsadphoenix]

a map and a shovel (to my achilles’ heel)

The evolution of Emma and Killian’s thoughts for each other, told through the early events of their lives together. | 2/2 | AO3

KILLIAN

EMMA

because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same?

for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around

Tagging: @teamhook @lillpon @ownedbycaptainswan @inwordsthatnobodyknows1121

1.

“Hey,” Emma starts, noticing a hand reaching out from a pile of bodies. “Hey, there’s someone under there!”

The man they pull out is thanking them, but there are alarms going off in her head. Something’s wrong, this doesn’t make sense. Their eyes meet, his eyes are fearful, yes, grateful as well, but just a bit calculating, too, and her instincts say there’s something more to him.

He sits at the table looking exhausted as Emma asks Mulan (shit, how was this her life, fucking Mulan) more. The story Mulan tells her about the man seems perfectly plausible, but, “Why would Cora leave a survivor?” It’s too messy for someone like Cora. So she offers him some water.

He starts to explain how he hid under the bodies to survive, but there’s something wrong. He’s — not lying, not completely, but Emma’d be damned if he’s telling the full truth. So she leans her elbows down on the table, bringing her head level to his, I’m pretty good at knowing when someone is lying to me, she keeps her voice even, calm, face sympathetic, until —

“I’m telling you the truth,”

Her lie detector goes off.

Got you.

He’s good, she has to admit as she plasters on a sympathetic smile for him, but not good enough. I can guide you —

Ha, not a chance.

So Emma grabs him by the hair, pulls out her knife, and puts it to his throat.

“You’re not gonna guide us anywhere until you tell us who you really are,” she really can’t help the bit of pride that swells up at the flash of surprise in the man’s eyes.

2.

Just looking up at the beanstalk seems daunting. They had to climb that thing?

Whatever story you think you know, my dear, is most certainly wrong, has her scrounging her memory for what she remembered of Jack and the Beanstalk. Something with a cow, she remembered, and — was it a goose or a harp? Ah, she’s getting distracted, and Hook’s amused look and drawling voice really isn’t helping. Very bad form, he finishes his story.

“The treasure remains, and amongst it is the compass,” he says, focusing on her again, and really, why is he always speaking like she’s the only one in this group? “Once we get it, steal the ashes from her, then we’re on our way,” he finishes jovially.

“How do we know you’re not just using us to get the compass for Cora?” Mulan asks suspiciously, and really, Emma could become good friends with her, the way they easily agree.

Hook answers seriously, ‘cause you four are far safer company, clear of any deception. Good enough for now, she supposes, and suggests they start climbing. They’re wasting time sharing stories here.

Then Hook laughs a bit, says only he and one other can climb, and he is seriously getting on her last nerve, don’t be afraid to, y’know, really get into it, he grins, bouncing on his feet, looking completely delighted by this, and why did Captain Hook have to be gorgeous and not all perms and wax mustaches?

They move away from Hook, and she tilts her head back to peer up the beanstalk as the others argue. Damn, she can’t even see the top. How long would that take to climb? She absently hears them arguing over wars or something or another, and out of corner of her eye, she can see Hook trying to hide his impatience despite his earlier words.

The fact that she can relate to that irritation has her interrupting the others, because HenryHenryHenry; who cares about number of wars or who has more to lose when Henry is waiting for her? But she can’t trust Hook either, so she tells Mulan to cut the beanstalk down in ten hours if she’s not back down, makes her promise to bring Mary Margaret home.

Hook smiles cheekily at her, I was hoping it would be you, and she rolls her eyes as he puts the cuff around her wrist.

“I can’t climb one-handed, can I?” He protests, and begrudgingly, she gives him the hook, but, “Don’t think I’m taking my eyes off you for a second,” she warns.

He simply smiles, I would despair if you did, and up they climb.

3.

He’s talking.

She’ll ignore him, she will ignore him, she will ignore him, she will — “I’m concentrating,” Emma finally snaps.

“No, you’re afraid,” he says, and what? The hell does she have to be afraid about? “Afraid to talk, to reveal yourself,” he slows his climb to let her catch up to his side. “To trust me.”

Trust? Really? From him, of all people? “You should be used to people not trusting you,”

Hook only rolls his eyes, ah, the pirate thing, as if it was just some afterthought. You’re something of an open book, he tells her then, and Emma can’t help but pause, can’t help the faint amusement and curiosity, because she’s been called many things in life, but open book was definitely not one of them.

“Let’s see,” he starts, voice deceptively mild, “you volunteered to come up here because you were the most motivated, you need to get back to a child,” and Emma nearly scoffs, because he’s an eavesdropper, big surprise.

“Ah, but you don’t want to abandon him the way you were abandoned,” and still, his voice is casual, as though they were just talking about the weather, but Emma stills, because how could he know —

He looks away from her briefly as he explains something about Neverland, and Lost Boys, but she’s still scrambling to cover up whatever hell hole in her walls he managed to see past. The look you get when you’ve been left alone, but she didn’t come from Neverland, she’s not from some fairytale world despite what Henry says, she was just —

“But an orphan’s an orphan,” he continues. There’s something in his voice, but she won’t focus on it before this gets into more dangerous territory, but he doesn’t seem to notice, pushing on, love has been all too rare in your life, hasn’t it, and, have you ever even been in love, and no —

— nope no no no, absolutely not, she will not go there, will not think of her stolen bug, of stolen convenience store food, of a stolen keychain, of stolen moments in stolen motel rooms, of stolen watches, of a stolen future in a cold, empty jail cell with a positive pregnancy test, of two stolen years in —

No, she answers him, because how the hell had this man managed to see right past her walls in the few hours he spent in her company, when people who’ve known her months, years, had trouble doing the same? So she pushes ahead of the climb, resolutely ignoring his too perceptive gaze burning into her, focusing on the climb to run away from the memories that were threatening to resurface.

4.

She starts to turn away from the giant, to head back to the beanstalk, compass in hand, but then, try something new, darling, is ringing in her ears, and she hesitates, glancing back at the pile of rocks Hook is trapped under.

She can’t trust him, she can’t, she tries to convince herself as she asks the giant to keep Hook trapped but unharmed for ten hours. Every instinct she has tells her that he can be trusted, that he hasn’t once lied to her. Every instinct says that she can take a chance on him, that they could be allies, friends, maybe —

No.

No, no, he’ll turn on her the first chance he gets, she tries to think rationally. But he’s grinning at her, pure exhilaration on his face, and he calls her brilliant and amazing, without any lie or underlying motive, and he stares down at the compass in awe, and she can’t help but think of how human he looks when he’s like this, so far removed from any fairytale or cocky pirate captain persona or the man who would go to any lengths for his lost love.

Hook reaches for the compass and doesn’t even look all that bothered when she pulls away, simply smiling and offering up his hand, eyes bright, face open, and come, let’s go, and she takes his hand but she can’t.

If she’s wrong about him, she could lose Henry, could lose her way to Storybrooke, he could leave her cold and empty and lost in some dead realm, reminiscent of a cold and empty jail cell, lost for two years in Tallahassee.

She stares back at his bright and open face, watches as he gives her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She has no reason to be wrong about him.

She closes the shackles around his wrist.

His face goes slack with the shock, and it has her up and scrambling back out of his reach.

What are you doing, the way his voice trembles in his attempt to stay calm only serves to make her feel worse, eyes falling away from him. Her voice fails her as she tries to explain, explain that — that he — that she can’t—

“Emma, look at me,” he pleads, “have I told you a lie?”

He hasn’t. Not since she called him out on the blacksmith act, since she put a knife to his throat, since she tied him to a tree, and left him to ogres until she heard him call out to her, good for you, irritated and a little sulky and just a bit of grudging respect.

He didn’t lie when he smiled down at her, I was hoping it would be you, didn’t lie when he called her an open book, when he bandaged her hand with his scarf with a no, it’s not, or when she pressed him about the name on his wrist, despite the way he had shut down fast, faster than anything else she had seen from him yet.

His voice is still calm as he tries to reason with her, why do this to me now, gaze steady, as though it can still be easily brushed aside if she just lets him go, but —

“I can’t take the chance that I’m wrong about you,” because despite what her instincts say, she refuses to take that step (refuses to try something new), and “I’m sorry,” because she is. But he turned so quick on Cora, he could do just the same to them, turn back to Cora with the compass, and —

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Hook pulls against the chain as he tries to move closer, voice furious. She’s shutting down, and fast. She can’t let him change her mind, she can’t take that chance, the chance she’s wrong, the chance of him betraying her, the chance of losing her way to Henry, the chance on him.

“And you’re not gonna die,” she refutes him, “I just need a head start, that’s all.”

And she’s turning away from him, walking back to the beanstalk, and he’s calling out to her, furious and desperate (betrayed, abandoned) but she won’t, she can’t look back, because —

She shuts her eyes against his shouts.

She leaves him behind.

(Because, despite her rationalizing, the more her instincts say he can be trusted, the more she wants to take that chance, to listen to her gut, to — to —

The more it terrified her. The more she needs to distance herself. What better way than to leave him in chains in some cold, empty room with a giant?)

5.

The compass disappears from her hand, and appears in Cora’s as she stares gleefully at it.

No.

No, what — ?

Emma pushes uselessly at the cell gates as Cora thanks Aurora for her help.

Thanks Auro—?

What?

She turns on her, furious, how would you do this, but she registers belatedly that Aurora looks as bewildered as them, and Cora’s crooning voice only confirms this as she pulls out a red, pulsing, beating heart. “You took her heart?” She stares, horrified. This — this is what it means when Regina — when Graham — when —

“Actually, I did,” Hook corrected her, voice low. Emma turns to him then, having tried and failed to ignore him leaning casually against the wall, staring fixatedly down at his hook, “it was a gift.” He finally turns to face them. He doesn’t say anything more, face completely closed off in a way she hasn’t seen on him aside from when she had asked about Milah, doesn’t flinch as Cora clenches her fist, Aurora crumpling in pain, doesn’t move until Cora passes him, pushing off the wall to follow.

“Hook,” she tried, desperate. She can’t lose the compass, lose Henry. “Wait,”

He pauses.

She breathed shakily, a desperate, irrational swell of hope as he turns to face her. “Please don’t do this, my son is in Storybrooke, he needs me.”

He moved towards her then, slow, measured steps, and just from the look on his face she knows she fucked up. “Perhaps you should have considered that before you abandoned me on that beanstalk,” his tone low and dangerous.

She shakes her head because that — it’s not — because — you would’ve done the same, and she keeps her grip against the bars, keeps her voice cool and knowing.

“Actually no.”

It’s said flatly, just plain fact.

That — that can’t be right.

She left him behind before he could do it to her, before he could do what he’s doing now, except—

He’s pulling out a bean on some sort of necklace, and she reaches desperately for it, unsuccessful, and this is a symbol, dangling the bean just in front of her, “something that was once magical, and full of hope, possibility... Now look at it,” once again his voice is deceptive, mild and unassuming, and she follows his gaze. “Dried up, dead. Useless. Much like you,”

He’s walking away, Emma realizes with increasing panic. Is this how he felt?

Just as I’m done with you, is this revenge for the way she left him chained up on the beanstalk, helpless but to watch her retreating back? Fitting, she thinks dimly to herself, watching him walk away.

He did betray her, just as she thought (because she did it first), and she thinks of her way back to Henry, fading with each step Hook takes away from them, thinks dimly of trying to call out to him (just as he did to her), thinks dimly of what could’ve happened if she had trusted him, trusted herself, would she still have wound up here, thinks dimly of how flat Hook’s words were to her, how closed off, a complete turn from the start of their climb up the beanstalk, thinks I did this, I did that to him, I got us caught in this trap —

She thinks maybe she should have trusted him, but now she won’t get a chance to right that wrong, doesn’t even know if she would want to if she got the chance.

6.

How could you not? You don’t believe in your parents. Or in magic. Or even yourself.

Goddamn Rumplestiltskin — Gold — whatever his name was now.

When have you ever taken a real leap of faith?

Because what they needed right now — when Henry was missing — was to separate.

You’re still just that bail-bonds person.

What the hell did he know, Emma thought bitterly, the burn in her muscles not doing anything to clear her mind. She paused a moment to catch her breath, pushing back the swell of frustration, the burning in her throat. Henry is missing. That’s the fact of the matter. This is no time to doubt herself, to —

“Aw, don’t stop on my account.”

Hook.

Of course. Because she needed more things on her mind, needed more questions she couldn’t find the answer to. “What are you doing?”

Getting ready for a fight, she manages to ground out, ignoring Hook’s quip, because like hell she would tell him that she was doing her own equivalent of a pep talk, of going through mindless, repetitive motions to try to clear her mind of Gold’s words, or tell him that she was starting to believe them, not because Gold had said it flat to her face, but because it was all already in her head.

And in what is starting to become a frustrating pattern, she doesn’t need to tell him anyway.

“Don’t let Rumplestiltskin get you down, love,” is said gently, free of any judgement, and dammit, how does he see through her so easily (open book), he had done it on the beanstalk, done it in Granny’s with a simple why are you really doing this, and the more time she spends in his presence, the more she understood the weight of her own words when Emma had told him you and I, we understand each other — God, was that just a couple hours ago?

“What do you want?” Because there was no chance she was going to go further with this. He pulls out a key as he starts to talk about Neal.

Yes, because an even better topic conversation with the man who can read her like no one else was her recently killed ex who she still has a shit ton of mixed and complicated feelings for.

Hook offers her a sword, then, a quiet this was his, has her looking up and taking a look at his face.

Emma might have a harder time understanding his particular motives right now, but she is not the only open book on this ship, she thinks, noting the way his eyes don’t meet hers, the way his head sways, the edge to his I’m not when she accuses him of being sentimental. What a terrible liar, she muses, trying to ignore the warm feeling starting to replacing the cold dread that Gold’s words had left.

“I just thought you could use it where we’re going, you know,” he hands her a shot glass, and Hook may be a terrible liar, but he’s certainly good at deflecting, she thinks, as he drawls out, “to fight.”

He pours her some rum, and somehow, the moment the glass was filled, she realizes that this was exactly what she needed. Not some pull ups to get ready for a fight, not to talk about her feelings with her parents, not pointless reassurances or empty promises and words. Just a moment to take a breath and process, free of outside influence. Thanks.

“To Neal,” Hook offers simply, and they toast and they drink and they sit in silence, and it is ridiculous how easy it is to be in his presence.

He comes with no expectations of who she should be, no underlying disappointment throughout every interaction when she is nothing expected, no pressure to be a lost daughter, or a mother who lost ten years with her son, or Neal’s ex, or some savior responsible for everyone’s happiness, or princess, or even a bail-bonds person.

With him, she simply is.

So she asks about Neal, because she can’t imagine him young and a teenager, playing pirate with Hook, because no matter how much he had broken her heart, how much just his name reminds her of the cold metal of a cuff around her ankle as she gave birth, or the cold metal of the watch on her wrist that night, being in Neal’s presence made her feel sixteen and recklessly in love again, and seeing him die made her wish for better closure, and being in Hook’s presence was easy and calming, and he was the only other person she knows who she could talk to about Neal.

(who she feels she could someday tell the whole story of her and Neal, without judgement or expectation or suggestions to forgive and forget)

Naturally, Hook sees right through her question, and true to form, as she is starting to learn, answers plainly and free of judgement or amusement or those stupid sympathetic looks that make her want to hit something. “Long enough to know I miss him, too.”

Their eyes meet. No more words are said, and it is quiet. The room is heavy. And it is easy.

7.

“Hook,” David says as soon as he separates from Mary Margaret. “He saved my life.”

Emma’s heart skips a few beats, focusing sharply on David, trying to find any injuries.

“Are you sure you wanna tell them that, mate?” Hook asks him cautiously, but Emma is far too worried about the idea that those two were in any situation at all that called for someone’s life being saved. Are they alright, what happened?

“On our trek,” David starts, “we were ambushed by Lost Boys. Pinned down, outnumbered, but Hook — he risked his life to stop me from getting hit by a poisoned arrow.”

He what? Now she turns to look at Hook, but he shifts uncomfortably, looking away from them all, forcing up a short smile as David approaches. “If it wasn’t for Hook, I wouldn’t be alive. Your flask, please,” Hook seems to be able to meet only David’s eyes as he hands him the flask. I thought he deserved a little credit.

Only now does Emma’s heart slow down a bit, because just how close had she come to losing her friend — her father? Thank you, Hook manages, but still looks supremely uncertain and uncomfortable, even with the gratefulness softening it just a bit. They pass the rum about, but Emma can’t help but stare.

Once again he surprises her, and once again, she sees that honorable gentleman peeking out from underneath that cocky pirate captain persona. She saw it when he took her hand, insisting on bandaging it, when he had smiled at her, so bright and open, her heart had skipped a beat, saw it when he had put himself to pains to reach for Aurora’s heart, when he had so blatantly thrown their fight at Lake Nostos (No way did she beat a pirate in a sword fight when she had only held a sword for a week), saw it when he turned his ship around, gave her the bean with a simple, maybe I just needed reminding that I could, saw it below the decks of his ship when he offered her Neal’s sword and they drank a toast to his memory.

To Hook, she murmurs, taking a swig of the rum, before turning back to him as the others return back to their camp.

He is turned away from her completely, staring fixatedly on a tree, and the words come out before she can stop herself, “D’you really save his life?”

“Does that surprise you?” he asks, and he barely glances at her before turning back to the tree. She gives back the rum.

“Well, you and David aren’t exactly... how do you say it? Mates,” she mimics his accent, expecting a smirk or a small laugh.

Instead, he finally turns to face her, serious and honest, “Doesn’t mean I’d leave your father to perish on this island.”

Thank you, is all she can say to the sincerity in his eyes and voice.

A slow, teasing grin spreads across his face, and she knows he’s putting up an act, directing their conversation to something much lighter, but regardless, Emma feels the mood lighten almost immediately, feels herself start to feel just a bit giddy, giddy from speaking to Henry, from David and Hook making it back safe, despite the sextant, from the rum, from this man standing across her, who constantly keeps her and her expectations on its toes, who she’s felt connected to since they climbed the damn beanstalk and he revealed just a bit of himself when he tied that damn scarf with his damn mouth, and turned his ship around and offered his assistance in helping Henry when there was nothing in it for him.

Perhaps gratitude is in order now, he muses, tapping his lips with his finger, and she can’t help but return his teasing smile, because “Yeah, that’s what the thank you was for,” but he just makes a quiet noise in the back of his throat as he takes just another step forward.

“Is that all your father’s life is worth to you?” Hook asks, and that giddiness seems to swell just a bit more, because, he saved David’s life. He turned his ship around, gave her Neal’s sword, gives advice freely, directed them to Tinkerbell, showed them what plants are safe to eat and which to avoid, even with all the doubts the others throw his way, and all the while, he simply turns to her, smiles, calls her excellent, backs all her ideas, and never once does he seem to doubt her.

“Please, you couldn’t handle it,”

“Perhaps you’re the one who couldn’t handle it,”

He pops the t, the corner of his lips tugging up, and he stares at her with bright, open blue eyes, so so reminiscent of the look he had given her when she pulled him out of the rubble, calling her brilliant and amazing, and asking to see the compass, and offering his hand up to her.

She should leave.

She should walk away now, head back to David and Mary Margaret and Regina.

Oh, fuck it.

Her hands close around the collar of his coat, dragging him in for a kiss even before she could finish the thought. She keeps a death grip on his collar as the other winds up in his ridiculously soft hair, and his lips taste of rum and Neverland fruits, and he doesn’t move for a moment, far too surprised, before his hand comes up her own hair and he breathes in harshly through his nose and he responds, and oh.

Hook kisses the same way he does just about anything else; with everything he has. It has her burning, because he kisses like he’s challenging her, kisses like a drowning man taking a breath for the first time, kisses like she’s the sun and he hasn’t seen daylight in years, kisses like he’ll never kiss anyone again.

They separate, but their foreheads are pressed together, and she still has a death grip on his coat, and they are breathing harshly, and all she can think is, oh.

That was —

“That was...” and he sounds wrecked, stunned, as if he hasn’t just given her the best kiss of her life, and oh, oh, oh, oh no, but even with the growing panic, she feels good, and he feels good, and they feel good together, and —

A one-time thing, she forces herself to step away, to turn and head back into camp, and she makes the mistake of looking at his face, as stunned and wrecked as he sounds, brow furrowing at her words, and the words taste a bit wrong in her mouth, tastes like a lie, but it can’t be a lie, because there’s no chance she’s letting herself —

“Don’t follow me,” she instructs him, not letting herself look at him again, “Wait five minutes, go get some firewood or something.”

“As you wish,” he calls at her back, and the smile that spreads on her face is completely involuntary.

Her heart is still pounding, lips still burning, and she still feels so so good, for the first time since Henry was taken, she was in some semblance of a good mood, and he was the one to put it there, with his stupid easy faith, stupid smiles and compliments and suggestions, urging her to find a way to speak to Henry, and saving David’s life, and the stupid way he doesn’t even expect anything back, not even acknowledgement, and the stupid, goddamn way he kisses like his life depends on it, why the hell does he kiss like that.

What the hell made her think kissing him would be a good idea? She can panic about this later.

(She can still taste the rum and fruits.)

(She thinks maybe she really couldn’t handle it.)

8.

The whole Neal thing isn’t enough to distract from the burn on her lips, the memory of those bright, open blue eyes, or the teasing voice, or that damn kiss, like Hook was breathing air for the first time.

“I kissed him,” Emma blurts out the moment she and Mary Margaret are out of earshot from David and Hook.

“What?” she asks, “Who?” As if there’s an abundance of options she has of people to kiss.

“Hook, I kissed Hook,” and the memory of his lips on hers are still so fresh, the taste of rum and fruits, that bright, giddy feeling he had managed to bring out of her still echoing in her chest, even as the thought of finding Neal makes her heart ache.

“Oh,” says Mary Margaret, voice high, with surprise or suspended judgement or maybe both, maybe neither, Emma doesn’t know, “Wh-why?”

Because he sees her and has no expectations for her, because he doesn’t lie to her, because of the way he had smiled at her, the teasing lilt to his voice, the easy faith he puts on her, because he came back and offered to help save Henry, saved David, and because they shared a drink, shared moments on the ship, on the beanstalk, in this damn island, because try as he might, he just can’t hide that gentleman underneath the selfish pirate persona.

I don’t know, she says instead, “I-I was — it’s been a while, I was feeling good —“

“Did it mean anything?”

Yes, she thinks instinctively, except she doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t even know why she brought it up, because it was a one-time thing, and, it was just a kiss, because it should have just been a kiss, but her voice is starting to pitch defensively, completely involuntary, and she can still feel the pull of his lips on hers, the taste of fruit and rum, and the way he had kissed like —

“I’m sure Neal will understand,” completely falters her thoughts, because the hell does Neal have anything to do wi—

Oh, right, they’re on their way now to rescue her apparently not-so-dead-ex, the father of her son, who she said I love you to right before he fell into the portal, and she had just told her mother she kissed another man. It must seem like Emma was worried about what Neal might think, which — No. “If he’s still alive,”

“Emma, I get what you’re doing, you know,” says Mary Margaret carefully, “you don’t wanna open yourself up the the hope that he’s alive, but you should,” completely stops her in her tracks.

Why, She stares at Mary Margaret, heart sinking.

She had wanted some closure from Neal, yes, she deserved that closure after all that he’s done to her, the memory of that damn alleyway, cuffs closing around her wrists, and months in a cell with nothing but a keychain, car keys, and a positive pregnancy test, the way she couldn’t even bear to look at her son after she gave birth because then she’d never be able to let him go, to give him a life he deserves, the two years in Tallahassee waiting, just waiting, had her building up her walls higher and thicker than when she had left the system.

But with Neal gone, Emma had thought she could finally let it go, move past that part of her life, could live without the constant worry she had lived with for years that she would see him again someday, except she did, in possibly the worst way, slamming into him in some New York alleyway, with him getting mad at her for bringing Gold to him, scoffing and dismissing her like she was still sixteen and he hadn’t set her up to take the fall fo his crime. No, then he followed he back to Storybrooke with a fiancée who wound up kidnapping Henry for Peter Pan, even as he and her parents had dismissed all her suspicions as some petty jealousy.

No, she wanted to get closure and move on. She wasn’t sixteen and in love with the cool, older guy who had understood her anymore. She didn't want to feel sixteen anymore. She wanted to feel at ease, like she feels around Henry and his endless faith and belief in everything, around Mary Margaret before things became so much more complicated, around Hook, of all people, when he offers her a drink, when compliments and praise slip freely from his lips but seems to expects nothing in return, when he is always so open and easy to read when they are alone, when he reads her unnervingly well, not needing her to speak her doubts before he replaces it with that easy faith and a small smile.

“Because you deserve a happy ending, Emma,” Mary Margaret turns to face her, earnest, “and happy endings always start with hope,”

But what did it mean if the only hope she feels regarding Neal is the dark, grim hope that this was just a trick?

9.

“I thought Emma would wish to have something to remember you by,” Hook’s voice is terse.

“Oh, thanks, but she’s got me now,” and what? The hell is this about?

She holds out an arm to stop Hook from following Neal, woah, what was that about, but Hook is standoffish, can’t meet her eyes right, and dammit, he’s been having difficulty doing that since the Echo Caves. His words are halting, tense and just a bit uncomfortable, “I assumed he heard my secret, I also assumed you told him of our shared moment,”

“Why would you assume that,” she asks sharply. This time, he has no trouble holding her gaze, because I was hoping it meant something, but that is not the point, that is not what meant something, because it occurs to her that the only time Pan could’ve told him about Neal was immediately after their kiss, and still — “What meant something was that you told us Neal was still alive. Thank you,” she seems to be saying that to him a lot, and each time, she means it more and more. “Otherwise you could’ve kept Pan’s information to yourself.”

“Why would I have done that?” he asks genuinely, as though it never once occurred to him, as though he didn’t have everything to gain and nothing to lose if he kept the information to himself.

“Maybe Pan offered you a deal, why else would he tell you?”

“It was a test,” he says simply, unbothered, “he wanted to see if I’d leave an old friend to die, even if that old friend happens to be vying for the same woman I am,”

She stares, and thinks of how refreshing it is to speak with him, the way he doesn’t beat around the bush, the way he states his intentions plainly, never bothering with a lie, thinks of that gentleman he mentioned once, so long ago, shining through again, always there, underlying most of his actions, “And you chose your friend,” she doesn’t mean to sound so surprised.

He only shrugs, “Does that surprise you?”

She thinks she’s more surprised by how unsurprised she is.

Emma has learned so much more about Hook in their short time together, thinks of how easy it always is to be with him, to speak with him, to understand him, because he never says the words, but she knows the reason she is an open book to him is the same reason he is an open book to her.

You are a pirate, she says instead, smiling at him, wanting him to smile back, to laugh, but when he does, it is tinged with an uncharacteristic self-deprecation, yeah, that I am, and he looks down, looks away from her, and Emma thinks he shouldn’t sound like that (thinks she doesn’t want him to sound like that).

He takes a step closer, and somehow, she doesn’t feel even slightly uncomfortable by his closeness, by his openness, his sincerity, “But I also believe in good form. So when I win your heart, Emma — and I will win it. It will not be because of any trickery. It will be because you want me.”

She’s already known this, deep down. He never mentioned saving David voluntarily, even cautioned against David’s acknowledgement, he decided to be the first to speak his secret, to bear his heart to save Neal, never once bringing it up as a point of praise, and he’s so so honest, expecting nothing in return, simply happy to lay his heart down in her hands. She has to turn this conversation away from the direction it’s going, she has no time to examine her own feelings and desires, not while Henry is still in danger, she isn’t nearly as brave enough to examine herself, too scared to find out what that answer may be, where it may lead her to, and she’s nowhere near as brave as Hook to simply put herself out there like he is. “This is not a contest, Hook,”

“Isn’t it?” he questions mildly, “You’re gonna have to choose, Emma. You realize that, don’t you? Because neither one of us is gonna give up,” he gestures towards Neal’s general direction, but —

“The only thing I have to choose is the best way to get my son back,” she corrects him, because Henry will always be her priority, now, on Neverland when he’s in constant danger, back in Storybrooke where he is happy and surrounded by family, even regardless of whatever danger Storybrooke winds up in, and even when there’s no danger to be had.

“And you will,” says Hook simply, as though there isn’t even a single shred of doubt in his mind, and once again, Emma is struck by his simple faith. The answer is plain on his face, in his voice, in the silence of her lie detector, but somehow, the quiet doubt constantly on the back of her mind is calling out to her, and she can’t help but ask, can’t help the creeping vulnerability, you think so, because she has the feeling he wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t brush it away, or mock or whatever else.

I’ve yet to see you fail, and there’s a shadow of a smile on his face as he stares back at her, but Emma knows it’s not a smile of mocking, “and when you do succeed,” he continues, uses when because in his mind, her victory is already guaranteed, no matter if they have no concrete plan to get to Henry, to defeat Pan, to leave Neverland, “well, that’s when the fun begins,” and he’s smiling properly now.

“Guys!” Neal calls out then, and Hook’s eyes dart to somewhere behind her, his face smooths out into his usual vaguely disinterested expression, hiding away the heart he so easily opens when they’re alone, but Emma is slow to tear her eyes away from him, because she still shaken, moved by his confidence and belief in her, the same that she’s only ever seen on Henry, with his unfaltering faith in the goodness of people, even ones he’s called evil, with his but I believe in you, before he collapsed and leaving her in panic and believing in magic, for him.

(She thinks she could be in serious trouble with this man.)

(She thinks she might already be in serious trouble with this man.)

10.

Emma doesn’t want to leave. Not when she had finally found her parents, found her son, found a place she could belong (a place she could call home). She’s barely holding back her tears, can see Henry doing the same, and they’re at the town line, her Bug already at the edge, but she doesn’t want to go.

Hook approaches her as soon as she moves away from the crowd, and she starts to feel even worse.

She doesn’t know what to say to him, what she wants him to know, and judging by his uncertain expression, he feels the same.

“That’s quite the vessel you captain there, Swan,” he attempts lightly, and it brings out a smile from her, however shaky, because he always seems to be able to do that to her.

She doesn’t know what she wants to say to him, but she knows she could very possibly regret not saying anything at all more than anything else.

If she has to leave, if she can never see him again, Emma knows she has to say goodbye, knows she owes it to him, owes it to herself, owes it to them.

But the smile fades from his face, and he looks about the same as she feels, and “There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you,” and she knows he is not lying, does not need to use her superpower with him because he wears his damn heart on his sleeve when it comes to her, because if there’s one thing she can count on, it’s Captain Hook — Killian Jones’ honor and dedication and honesty, knows that when he makes a promise, he keeps it, and she doesn’t even have to look much further than how they met, him dedicating himself to centuries avenging an old love.

There was something building between them, she knows. It’s why she ran from him in the first place so long ago on the beanstalk. She doesn’t need his open honesty about his feelings, doesn’t need the Echo Caves to know. She was in trouble with him from the start, since he read her like an open book, and she ran from it, and she knew the moment she kissed him that whatever it was, it wasn’t something she could keep running from forever.

Until now.

(Until she felt that she might not really want to run anymore.)

But even now, when they’ll never see each other again, when there’s no consequence to keeping his heart hidden from her, he tells her the truth, tells her he won’t stop thinking of her, and she thinks, for once, he deserves some honesty in return, because she may not know what she feels for him, may not return whatever it is he feels for her, but dammit she cares about him, and she’s going to miss him. So she says good, because that’s all she can manage to say, but he still manages to understand her meaning, and he smiles, and steps back.

(She thinks her heart might just break a bit more.)

They may never know what it was that was building, but she has never met another person she could understand so well, who could understand her so well, who she feels she could someday let her walls down for, who she felt truly connected with.

She never knew what kindred spirits meant until she met him.

But then Regina says she and Henry will lose their memories, lose the years they spent in Storybrooke, lose the knowledge that she had found her family, the knowledge that she was wanted, and that Henry has more family than he could possibly know to do with, but could still easily love enough to fill his big heart, and her own heart breaks, breaks for her son, for herself, for her parents and Regina, who can’t even have the comfort that they would be thinking about them, and for Hook, who had promised her everyday but she can’t even return the favor for one more day.

(somehow, she knows, even without her memories, she would have regretted not saying goodby to Hook.)

But they are out of time, and she and Henry get into the Bug, and she starts driving.

She can feel her parents gaze, can feel Hook’s eyes, can feel her memories fading, being replaced, but she holds on as long as she can, until there’s nothing left to hold on to.

(She wonders, later, at the incredible sense of loss she feels, wonders at her acquired taste for rum, wonders at the melancholy she feels when she stares out at the ocean, or when she watches Disney movies with Henry, wonders why everything just feels wrong, feels like there’s something missing.)

11.

Emma had started to wonder who was more insane; the madman dressed head-to-toe in leather rambling about curses and family — or her for thinking, for feeling, that some part of what he’s saying actually made sense.

The moment he had turned up, nothing felt right anymore (nothing had felt right all year), felt strangely like she had known the man who showed up at her door, felt very much insane for actually leaning into the kiss for a split second, felt like she wanted to trust him, felt so much like she was missing something, something so, so, important.

Except nothing the man had said made any sort of logical sense, and she can’t get him out of her thoughts, her head, and Walsh’s proposal wasn’t helping her keep her head straight, and even when she’s throwing him in jail, she can’t help but seek him out again. But she needs answers, and he’s just pleading with her to take a baseless leap of faith, to trust him, trust herself, and he hasn’t lied once to her, no matter how insane the words spilling from his lips are.

(Everything in her is telling her to do it, to try something new.)

“As much as you deny it, deep down, you know something’s wrong, deep down, you know I’m right,” he insists, but it’s not possible, and how could she forget all of this?

He pulls out that tiny blue vial again, offers it out to her again, and again, Emma is struck by the strange familiarity of the action struck by the feeling that she knows what it feels for him to offer a drink, (for her to take it). “If you drink this it will,” he says quietly, and it’s all insane, he is insane, and she must be insane for wanting to take it, because —

“If — if what you’re saying is true... I’d have to give up my life here,”

“It’s all based on lies,” he insists.

“It’s real,” she protests, “and it’s pretty good! I have Henry, a job — a guy I love!”

His face falls, and he looks down at the grown as though he can’t meet her eyes, as though it will give him something to say, give him courage, and “Perhaps there’s a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost,” and Emma —

Stares. He’s talking about himself, she realizes. Knows it in herself, knows it like she knows anything else, although, perhaps that’s the wrong analogy now that he’s turned her life upside down in the span of a day.

“Regardless,” he plows on, as though he hadn’t really meant to reveal so much, like he’s trying to cover up his vulnerabilities, cover up the heart he hadn’t meant to open up to her, “if you wanna find the truth, drink up. Do you really want to live a life of lies? You know this isn’t right, trust your gut, Swan, it will tell you what to do,”

“Henry always says that,” she says quietly, staring at him, and he stares back, open, honest, earnest, and she thinks that maybe her resolve has crumbled.

“Then if you won’t listen to me, listen to your boy,”

Emma has no reasons left, not when he clearly means well, not when all her instincts are saying he can be trusted, that she can take a leap of faith with him, not when he’s looking at her like that, not when both he and Henry trust her to trust herself, when he had — intentionally or not — revealed himself to her with a man that you love in the life that you’ve lost.

So she takes the vial and drinks and —

She remembers, remembers lighting a candle on a cupcake, remembers Henry smiling at her on her doorstep, remembers Storybrooke, the clocktower moving, the dragon she fought when she finally believed, remembers Henry, cold and pale and lifeless until he woke with a kiss, remembers her parents, Neal, shot, falling through the portal, remembers Hook, the way he had looked at her at Echo Caves, remembers saying goodbye, remembers leaving —

She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes until she opens them, sees Hook watching her, anxious, worried, and oh, “Hook,” she breathes out, and he lights up at her, smiles like everything is okay, alright.

“Did you miss me?” he grins, and Emma wonders if it’s possible to have missed something she never even knew she had lost, but she remembers now, remembers the drinks they shared, the moments they had alone, the words and promises given, remembers the times she had wondered why she suddenly had a taste for rum, had a strange sense of melancholy whenever she took Henry to the seaside, knows now that yes some part of her had missed him even when she didn’t know she had lost h—

(He is not hers to lose, she reminds herself.)

(But she also remembers ‘until I met you’, remembers ‘when I win your heart’, remembers ‘not a day will go by’, and she simply knows, knows from the way he looks at her now that he had kept that promise, and she thinks, somewhere deep, deep down, that he just might disagree with that.

She wonders at how she is more scared at the fact she isn’t as scared at that as she should be.)

Later they are sat at her apartment, and she sets down two glasses and a bottle of rum as he recounts what happened after their return to the Enchanted Forest, recounts his return to piracy, and “Glad to see you haven’t changed,” she quips, because her mind is still reeling, the sudden simplicity and comfort of her life the past year twisted upside down, the sinking feeling that her memories of holding Henry as a baby, of changing her mind, of taking care of him and raising him are just stories, and nothing feels real anymore, nothing feels right, and if just one thing, just one person could still be the same, that would be very much appreciated.

But Hook only picks up his glass, “There wasn’t anything for me in the Enchanted Forest,” he says simply, “Why would I stay?”

And Emma has nothing she can think of saying, but she wants to say something, because again, he’s talking about her, knows he is, even if he never says the words, thinks (hopes) he hadn’t just disappeared off all on his own, thinks maybe he doesn’t do all that well on his own, thinks of the centuries he had spent on revenge for his first love, thinks of the promise he had made her in Neverland and at the town line, and thinks just maybe —

She opens her mouth, but before she can scrounge up something to say, he tilts his glass for a toast, and she falters, tapping her own glass to his. “And all was well,” he continues, leaning back in his seat, “until I got a message, a message saying there was a new curse, and everyone had been returned to Storybrooke, the message told me that the only hope — was you,”

“You came all the way back here to save my family?” she doesn’t mean for it to sound so doubting, but once again, there was absolutely nothing in it for him, he clearly hadn’t even been caught up in the curse, hadn’t even been with any of them for a year, yet he had gone to pains to track her down in New York, gone to pains to keep trying to convince her to trust him, no matter how long it had taken, how many times she called him crazy, or had slammed the door in his face, or left him to prison.

I came back to save you, is said plainly, so matter of factly that it nearly sounded flat, and Emma doesn’t know what to say to that, because again, he isn’t expecting praise or gratitude, isn’t saying it for anything other than to keep honest with her, because he had again, come back for her, because even back in Neverland he never kept his feelings a secret from her and she can’t even bring herself to return the favor, because he isn’t even expecting her to return the favor, and just how had he managed to find her, get to her?

So instead, she asks him who could’ve done this, but he knows just about as much as she does, alas, you’re the Savior, not me, and he downs the rest of his rum, but Emma can’t help but laugh, because, “You know what I was yesterday? A mother. Until you showed up and started poking holes into everything I thought was real. Drinking that potion was like waking up from a dream — a really good dream,”

She wonders at how easy it is to confide this to him.

“Well you have what matters most — your son,”

“Now I have to figure out how to explain this to him,”

Hook looks apologetic, “Alas, I could only scavenge together enough for one dose of memory potion,”

“I’d better start figuring out what I’m gonna tell him,” she replied quietly, and dammit how the hell had her life just gotten so much harder, so much more complicated in a single day? She has no idea what to even say to Henry, how to make this not sound absolutely insane, and —

The door buzzes, and Hook asks who it is, but oh shit how had she forgotten about Walsh? Henry invited him, she explains, and Hook turns, offers to get rid of him, but her life may not have been real, her memories all jumbled up and twisted and messy right now, but whatever lives she and Henry had made this past year was real, the eight months she spent with Walsh was real, and I owe him an explanation, even if she doesn’t know what that explanation is, or even where to begin.

“What are you going to say to him?” Hook asks, and Emma just feels very tired, just wants to take a damn moment to process everything, take a moment without having to figure out how to explain this insanity to Walsh or Henry, but Hook has been honest to her, and the least she can do is return that honesty.

“I don’t know. But I care about him too much to drag him into all this. Wait here,” she requests.

But turns out she hadn’t needed to think of something to say to Walsh, because Walsh is a fucking flying monkey and Walsh had just tried to kill her, because of course. Why had she even thought that having some semblance of a normal life would be possible for her?

Hook comes bursting through the door to the rooftop, calling out to her in worry, because of course he did, what the blazes was that, but Emma just feels the betrayal, the grief, rage, bitterness swelling up, and maybe the stress of the whole day is getting to her, because again, she just answers him honestly, “A reminder. That I was never safe, that what I wanted — what I thought I could have was not in the cards for the Savior,”

The way he looks at her just makes her feel a bit worse, like he knows exactly what she’s referring to, like he wants to disagree but wouldn’t know if he would be overstepping, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what, but she’s exhausted, drained from the day, from finding out her life is a lie, from Walsh, so she pushes past him, “We leave in the morning.”

(The next morning Hook pounds on the door, she lets him saunter in and he greets her with a wide grin, looks amused at Henry asking if he skipped bail, looks offended at the slight against his clothes, and she calls him Killian for the first time, it’s strange how right it feels to use his name, no matter how wrong it feels lying to Henry, and she reaches for her red leather jacket, reaches for her armor, because she needs it after Walsh, after how her life turned out to be wrong, after how easy it was to confide in Hook.)

(Somehow, she feels that not even her armor can help her much when it comes to Hook.)

12.

“You’ll look for any excuse to use that thing, won’t you?” Emma doesn’t bother hiding her amusement as Hook shakes at the berries with his — well, hook.

“At least we know we’re in the right place, what now?”

“Now we start searching.”

“You know something, Swan,” he starts lightly, “whenever you’re around, I inevitably find myself trekking through some manner of woods or forest courting danger,” he drawls.

“And here I thought you weren’t afraid of anything, always looking for the next adventure,”

“Oh, is that what this is?” he questions her.

“Isn’t it? The hell were you doing for the last year alone on that ship? I’m guessing it was one swashbuckling tale after another. Until you decided to come back and save me,”

She isn’t being fair to him, she knows. But something happened to him in the past year, something has that melancholy constantly in his eyes shining even stronger, something he’s hiding from her, and Walsh is still fresh in her mind, just one more person she had opened her heart to, only to have been hiding something, only to have been lying, just one more person she hadn’t expected the worst from, only to turn around and betray her, and the bitterness at the memory is just rising, frustration from everything going on building, and she still doesn’t know why he came for her.

She isn’t being fair to him, Emma smiles bitterly, because Hook may not be lying, but he’s certainly hiding something from her, and she’s incredibly tired of people not being who they say they are, and fuck she’s stressed and frustrated, frustrated from Walsh, from the lack of answers, from the new curse, her false memories, lying to Henry, and Killian is right there.

“Exactly,” he answers her shortly, and Emma thinks this is the first time he’s really lied to her since they met, and her frustration grows. She isn’t being fair to him but she’s too frustrated to care right now, you’re lying, she turns, confronts him, and Hook’s eyes go flat. “Excuse me?”

“What happened back there, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing,” he says cooly, “It’s my tale and I’m sticking to it,” but I still don’t believe you, and she’s only half aware of why she’s still pushing it, still desperately wants answers, wants to know what was so bad that he’s lying to her, wants to know what he’s been doing, how far he had to go to find her, why he went through all that trouble to return her memories, return her to Storybrooke, why he came for her at all, because as much as she wants to trust him, as much as she already trusts him, experience has taught her there has to be more.

But he’s not budging, he’s standing tense, he sounds frustrated as well, “Let’s just leave it at that and you can just say thank you,”

“For my memories? I already did,” and then he mentions Walsh, calls it a would-be loveless marriage, and that — that wasn’t — is that — “Is that what you think you’re doing?” because as good at Hook is at making her feel good, feel at ease, he’s equally good at pushing, getting her on the defensive (just as she knows she is equally good at doing the same to him).

“He was a flying monkey,”

“I didn’t know that,”

“Were you considering it? His proposal?” he asks quietly, and why is he — does it matter, because she really doesn’t want to get into this with anyone, with him, “Humor me,” and Emma kind of wants to laugh at the situation, two people who can read each other ridiculously well, keeping their secrets close to their chest, pushing for answers, but neither willing to budge. But as frustratingly as ever, as much as she wants to shove him away, wants to keep her own feelings, own thoughts in check, he is frustratingly good at pushing her, pushing her buttons, frustratingly easy to speak to.

“Yes, okay,” she snaps, “I was in love, so of course I was considering it. But as usual, he wasn’t who he said he was, and I got my heart broken, that enough humor for you?”

Because the lies, the betrayal is still raw, because she had lived a damn good life in New York, with her son and a guy she had loved, because Hook had shown up on her doorstep and woke her up from that life, because now, once again, she’s been burned by love, betrayed by someone she trusted, because Hook is frustratingly good at bringing out all sorts of feelings she’d much rather keep locked away, because she had started pushing him for answers and in the end, she was the one spilling her secrets, and now she’s even more upset and frustrated than when they had started speaking.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m glad to hear that,” he says instead, and what? Is there any right way to take that? But because it’s Killian, she knows he means what he says, and she has already let him see past her walls, showed him a piece of her heart, so she gives him the benefit of the doubt, you’re glad to hear I had my heart broken, because she wants to know —

And he’s taking a step closer to her, “If it can be broken,” and her sharp intake of breath was completely involuntary, because he’s so close, he hasn’t been this close since their kiss, and the way he looks at her — “It means it still works,”

She had wanted answers from him, but he’s answering the wrong questions. She doesn’t need her superpower to tell he’s sincere, not with the way he’s looking at her, like he’s speaking from experience, like it’s a lesson he had recently learned (like it’s a lesson she had been the one to teach him), but she has nothing she can say, nothing she wants to say, not when he’s still hiding something, not with Walsh still fresh in her memory, in her heart, not with this damn new curse, and goddamn everything, not now.

Not when, as much as she trusts him already, trusts him to have her back, to be around Henry, she can’t trust him with her heart.

So she does what she does best and runs. (She can hear it takes him several moments to follow, wonders what he was thinking, wonders why she cares about what he thinks.)

13.

Her magic swells, and she can feel the hot cocoa in front of her disappear, shift, reappear over to the booth Killian sits in, on top of the book he’s reading, and the success has her slamming her hand down the counter in delight, “Boom! Granny’s to-go. I should open a franchise,” she sings out, because she feels great, and it’s always so easy to be with Hook, and even just thinking about him makes her think of what he did for her, for Henry, for Ariel, and she feels good, dammit.

“It’s impressive,” he offers, and what, that’s it? She settles into her seat across from him, and she wants him to look impressed, sound more impressed, but he’s been looking drawn and exhausted since he helped Ariel, and she wants him to smile at her, laugh with her, tease her, wants him lighten up, to open up about whatever is bothering him.

“Wanna see something really impressive?” she asks him, pleased smile spreading as she looks at him, and he only sighs, looking back, and nope, that isn’t lightening up, so she waves her hand, feels the surge of magic, and hears the clink of his hook falling onto the coat rack. The continued success has her giggling (god, giggling, what the hell does being in his presence do to her?).

She wants him to laugh, to smile, to make some snarky comment or casual praise, or tease her, wants to help remove whatever cloud has been settling on his shoulders, whatever it was that had him distant, closed off.

Instead, he scowls, getting up to retrieve his hook, that’s bad form, Swan, tampering with a man’s hook, and if she hadn’t already been worried for him before, she certainly would be now. “Okay, seriously, what is up with you?” she keeps her tone light, because maybe she’s reading too much into it, but she’s still curious, worried for him.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” he sighs, getting back to his seat, “It’s a long story, too long for now,” and he takes a swig from his flask, and clearly she wasn’t reading too much into it, but now she is properly worried for her best friend.

Oh god.

Emma had to stop and take a moment as it occurred to her. Because somehow, somewhere along the way, between Neverland and New York and the Wicked Witch of the West, Killian Jones, Captain Hook, had become her best friend — her confidant.

Because in this completely fucked up town filled with fairy tales, where her parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and she’s after the Wicked Witch with her friends Belle, and the Evil Queen, and — yes, Captain Hook — for as long as she’s known him, even with his flowery language and pirate regalia and cluelessness to modern conveniences, he’s always felt the realest person around, both of them equally cynical and sarcastic, both burned by the world, both had to learn to fend for themselves early on.

How was this her life.

But regardless, something serious is bothering him, and she has confided in him many times before, back in Neverland, in New York, about Neal, about Walsh, about her doubts, her frustrations, and for once she wants to be able to return the favor, “Okay,” she starts slowly, “obviously, something’s —“

But then Belle slams the door to the Diner open, stumbling in with a great, old, massive book, calling out to her and dropping the book on the table hastily. “Zelena’s plan,” and she must’ve been running to them because she’s still panting, “I figured out what she’s doing,” and suddenly Emma has more to worry about than how Killian had managed to secure his spot as her best friend, has to take a rain check on figuring out what was wrong with him, has to push her worries aside for now.

(They may not be in the forefront of her mind, but it certainly resurfaces every time her eyes fall on him, sees the shadows in his eyes, sees the way he looks like he’s holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, sees the way he has no patience for just about anything, the way his quips are born more often from frustration than attempts at humor, and the way she doesn’t know how to help.)

14.

“I never should have brought Henry back to Storybrooke,” Emma tells Hook, because no matter how pissed of she is with him at the moment, he’s still the easiest person to talk to.

“You did what you felt was right,”

“I did what you manipulated me into,” and yeah, she isn’t being all that fair to him, knows she’s not being rational, knows it was very much her own choice, but she’s still so angry, still lashing out at him, because he lied to her, put Henry in danger, and she cursed me, and had broken her trust, and he’s talking about her parents and the town needing her, but “Henry, also needed me. We were happy in New York, and when I’m done melting this witch, I’d like us to be happy again.”

“You know, as content as you were in that city, it wasn’t real,”

“It was real for me,” she denies, “For him, everything that happened, happened,” but, as always, Hook isn’t afraid to keep pushing her, even when she’s already furious with him, when he knows she’s angry, and like it or not, a big part of you and Henry belongs in this town, but Henry had nearly died today, Neal had died in her arms, Zelena’s after her unborn sibling, Killian himself had been cursed, been turned into a weapon against her, turned into an attempt at taking her magic.

“What does the boy think?”

“He’s a kid! He wants chocolate milk in his cereal, I’m his mother, I know what’s best for him.”

“What’s best for him?” he asks, slowing his walk to face her properly, to urge her to a stop as well, and he looks rather unimpressed by any of her arguments, “or for you?”

“Excuse me?” she scoffs, pushing past him.

“You’ve taken care of the boy quite well here,” he points out, catching up to her “you talk about danger all you like, but it isn’t that. So tell me, what is it? Why are you so scared of staying? I think it’s because you can see a future here — a happy one,”

She does not want to get into this with him, doesn’t want to consider just how right he might be, doesn’t want to look any deeper for why she wants to run back to New York, so she reaches for the nearest thing she can to push him away, “Let me guess — with you?”

It hits the mark, and before Emma can even start to feel guilty at the look on his face, the look she put there, Zelena interrupts, drawling sarcastically, and Emma has no patience for her, the weeks of frustration that had been building in her, the fear for Henry, for her parents, for her sibling, the anger for Neal and Hook —

“Next time you try taking my power, why don’t yo try enchanting the lips of someone I’ll actually kiss,” she snaps at her.

“See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make,” and Emma’s just getting more annoyed by the tone of her voice, “You can keep your magic, which makes you oh-so-sad, or you can save the man that you can’t wait to run away from,”

She barely even has time to register Zelena’s words, to question her, before Gold sends Hook flying and into a water-filled well, holding him in place, and —

Her heart leaps into her throat, any anger she had been holding on for him rapidly fading in the face of him being in danger, and she’s running for him, grasping at his shoulders, pulling and pulling, but he doesn’t budge, he’s trapped and drowning and he’s struggling, struggling, and Killian is the one drowning but Emma can’t breathe, because his fight is fading, he’s falling limp and —

“Try all you like,” Zelena calls out to her, and Emma snaps out of it, turning to her, “you can’t free him,” and Emma thinks the coldness of her voice might just be worse than the mocking, because she’s staring down at them impassively, only the faintest smirk on her face, but Killian is still underwater, and she disappears in a cloud of green, and only then does she finally, finally, pull him free.

The relief is short-lived.

She’s calling out his name, but he’s just lying there, and he’s not responding, not breathing, she’s calling his name but he still won’t wake up and he can’t die, she couldn’t handle it, Hook, wake up, she thinks of Graham, thinks of Neal, and she couldn’t bear to lose one more person she cares for, and Killian, come back to me, she doesn’t even care if she’s begging, because he’s too still, he shouldn’t be this still —

Not this man who’s always so animated, who speaks thousands of words with just a look, who wears his heart on his sleeve, who feels and shows his emotions with all his whole being, who’s constantly emphasizing his words with hand gestures or his stupidly animated eyebrows, or his deep blue eyes, who’s smile and humor always manages to brighten her own mood, who had come back for her, who keeps coming back for her.

She can’t lose him.

She has nothing to help him with, but he’s still lying in front of her, Hook, she tries again, but there’s nothing around, and she’s out of options, but they still need her magic to stop Zelena, but Killian is dying, and she thinks the last time she felt this all-consuming fear was when Henry had been cold and limp and breathless, under the sleeping curse, and when he had given his heart to Pan.

She can’t lose him.

But without her magic, they’ll be out of options, out of weapons.

See, Emma, you’ve got a decision to make.

She can’t lose him, magic be damned.

Son of a bitch, she mutters, before pinching Killian’s nose shut to give him CPR.

(As if there’s any decision to be made.)

She feels her magic drain, feels the wrongness of it, but Emma pulls back, and he’s still not breathing, and she’s starting to get desperate and she’s cradling his face, and, Hook, come back to me, she whispers, she pleads —

And then he’s twisting, coughing out water, and Emma thinks maybe she could cry from the relief, she certainly feels herself slump over a bit, and her hand comes up to cradle the back of his head just before it slams back on the ground, and he’s saying her name, and it’s shaky, it’s weak, still just a bit waterlogged, but Emma can’t remember the last time she felt so relieved, so happy to hear someone just say her name, but Hook’s hand comes up to his lips and —

“What did you do?” he asks roughly, “What did you do?” because of course he cares more about her magic than his own life, because he’s so ridiculously selfless despite what he pretends, because she had been furious at him just minutes before, had told him she couldn’t trust him anymore, didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt, because she keeps pushing him away, keeps running from him even when he’s the easiest person to talk to, confide in — maybe because he’s the easiest person to talk to.

But she won’t take this from him, not now, not when she had nearly lost him, not when she can’t bear to lose anyone else she cares for, not when all she could think of when he lay limp and lifeless was how much he means to her, his smiles and jokes and sarcasm and cynicism and even his damn broodiness, how much she couldn’t stomach the idea of losing him, losing what he is to her, even if she doesn’t know what that is yet.

Right now, right this moment, all that matters to her is that Killian is still alive, that Killian is breathing, and she’ll bask in this for now.

15.

David’s calling her.

She should answer, but she can’t think of anything to say to him, doesn’t particularly want to talk to him about this, doesn’t want to try to get him to understand. You’re making a mistake, Hook calls out, because of course he’d be the one to come after her, to follow her, and if she didn’t to speak to David about this, she definitely doesn’t want to speak to Hook, who’s far too good at knowing how to push her.

“Don’t listen to me, listen to your son,” he says, undeterred, slowing only once he’s reached her, “he thought this,” and he pulls out the stupid, goddamn storybook out of his satchel, holding it out to her, “might remind you of what you’re leaving behind — your family.”

“Henry is my family, and I am taking him where he is safe.”

“No, Swan, safety first nonsense is just that. You defeated the bloody Wicked Witch, you defeated Pan, you broke the curse — but you keep running. What are you looking for?”

Because he always seems to know that there’s more, always manages to read her fears, and really, there isn’t much point in lying to him, either, so she answers quietly, home, hopes he’ll leave it at that. Except he never does. “And that’s in New York?” he questions doubtfully. “That wasn’t real,”

Except the last year, the last year when she had some semblance of a normal life, with her son and a job (a guy she loves), and yeah, they were fake memories, but she and Henry can go back and make new memories, make it real, make it feel like home, but Hook shakes his head, “Why can’t you do that here, with your entire family?”

And her eyes fall to the storybook he’s still holding out to her, and she’s reminded, again, of the story her parents were telling her new brother, some ridiculous first meeting with a robbery, and ogres, and knights, of magic and True Love, and Emma?

Emma is no fairytale story, no outlandish adventures, no balls and gowns and crowns and ruling kingdoms — just foster home after foster home, either unwanted by the family or she herself making the decision to leave, to run. She was just a bailbonds person with a criminal record and a son from a teenage pregnancy, and she may have magic, may be from True Love, or whatever else fairytale story she hears, but that’s all they are — stories — and she snatches the book from his hands impulsively, “Because of this! I don’t see my family here, I see... fairytales, I see stories of princes and princesses and — that’s not me. I was never a part of any of this,”

Because Emma feels that if anyone can understand her, it is Hook. “Then what are you a part of, Swan?” he asks gently, because her instincts about him are rarely wrong, and she realizes, suddenly just how swapped their positions are now from the year before, when she told him he could become a part of something rather than going off and being alone.

He had done it, had helped them rescue Henry from Neverland, had found her and returned her memories, brought her to her parents, stood and helped and fought at her side, and is now — one of the heroes. And now he sits with her, asks if she is a part of something, if she would rather try and be a part of something or go off and do what she does best. “Besides being with Henry, I don’t think I’ve ever been a part of anything,” she answers him honestly.

“But you could be,” Killian finally moves to sit beside her.

Emma sighs, shutting the book, turning to face him properly. “Look, when I was a kid, I ran away, it’s just what I did,” she would get no judgement from him, she knows this, “The first time I did it, I had the same exact thought. I wondered, what if I’m making a mistake, what if I miss this place?”

“And did you?”

“Not the first time. Not any time.”

“So you just keep running,” and Emma can’t quite figure out what’s in his voice, but she has never found a home, never found a place she missed when leaving, and home is the place, when you leave, you just miss it, and she couldn’t miss what she never even remembered she had, couldn’t miss her parents or Storybrooke or Hook, not the past year, couldn’t remember if she ever, truly regretted running from some place, something, someone, and really, she doesn’t even miss New York, only the vague idea of a normal life, and until she feels that? She’ll just keep moving, keep running, keep her walls high up, keep doing what she does best, keeps being alone.

“So you’re just going to leave your parents then? Don’t you even care about them? Or anyone in this town?”

He’s not talking about the town. Emma knows this as well as she knows he had been talking about himself in New York, perhaps there’s a man that you love, but does he really not know? She still remembers him cold and lifeless, not waking up no matter how hard she shakes him, how loud she calls his name, still remembers the cold terror that she might lose him, remembers all the drinks they shared, the times he was her first thought when looking for someone to take care of Henry, remembers him sitting across from her in an empty diner, the weight of his curse leaving him distant, snappish, and all she had wanted was to hear him tease her again.

She thinks sometimes he is the only one she wants to talk to, thinks he might be the only one she feels comfortable telling all of this to, thinks she’s —

She’s leaving, but she doesn’t want him to doubt, “Of course I care. I just have to do what’s right for me, and Henry, and —”

There’s a great, glowing beacon reaching up to the sky, and she’s up and heading towards it before she even registers getting up from the bench, and, again, Hook is up and calling after her, chasing her.

16.

“You might not be able to move, Swan,” Hook starts, sounding mildly amused, “but you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

Emma can’t stop the pleased grin spreading on her face. You’re not so bad yourself, pirate, she thinks delightedly, but before she can speak, Midas approaches and greets them, who do I have the honor to welcome into my home, and oh shit, they hadn’t discussed aliases, and Hook is being absolutely no help, “Charles, Prince Charles,” she interrupts his stammering, “And I am Princess... Leia.”

Henry would be so proud, she thinks as she curtsies. They move in, and she’s been told so many stories, but now she’s living it, thinks of all the time Mary Margaret and David mention this or that ball and, “What’s the big deal about these things?” she asks Killian, but he doesn’t answer.

He doesn’t have to, after all, and Emma stares at the people mulling about in lavish clothes and sharing food and socializing, and stares at the center of it all, where people have paired up, dancing smoothly to the music, and it really is as fairytale as it sounded.

“You were saying?” he whispers teasingly, and only then does Emma realize she’s gaping, and all these princes and princesses, dancing with one another in unfamiliar movements — what am I supposed to do?

But Hook is taking her hand gently, slowly tugging her into the crowd, and he’s got a look on his face that Emma doesn’t want to name, smiling at her delightedly, blend in, and for a pirate, he doesn’t look remotely out of place, looks completely at ease with the situation, and hang on, wait, so many things could go wrong, she doesn’t know how to dance, and, “Wait, are you saying you know how to do — whatever this is?”

“It’s called a waltz,” he says cooly, settling one of her hands on her shoulder, moving the other to his false hand, and “There’s only one rule,” he continued, gently resting his hand on her waist, and he’s so close to her, their eyes meet, and and he’s completely open to her, another one of those moments when he’s completely dropping his pirate persona, the flirtatious bravado, letting her see that gentleman beneath, and he’s staring at her like he’s —

“Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing,” he grins and starts to move, and it isn’t difficult at all to follow his lead, because they make a great team, they always have, and that partnership had always carried over, whether it was knocking out giants, or getting around Neverland, or fighting Zelena, or even in quieter moments, when they are alone, when they have a conversation with a single look, or their easy banter, or, apparently — dancing the waltz.

He’s grinning at her like he just can’t help himself, and she’s smiling back because she just can’t help herself, and with Hook it’s so easy, and once again, she is so unspeakably glad that he is here with her, that she wasn’t alone falling through the portal, that he is the one who somehow managed to be by her side through this. She still doesn’t know if he had fallen in like she had, or if had simply followed her, because he always follows her, and she can’t think of anyone else she’d rather have by her side right now.

(she thinks she’s falling in —)

“Watch the mocking, I’m actually getting the hang of this,” she whispers to him, because there can’t be any other reason for why he’s looking at her like she’s the greatest thing he has ever seen.

“I’m not mocking you, Swan, I was just thinking about what you said in Storybrooke, about not being a princess,”

“Really,” she nearly laughs, “You get my first dance at my first royal ball, and all you can say is ‘I told you so?’”

“I believe what I’m trying to say, your Highness,” he corrects her, “is that you appear to be a natural,” she spies her father across the room before she can respond, and they quickly look away before anyone can notice them staring, and it isn’t all that hard to pretend to focus on Killian’s face, because she doesn’t have to pretend at all.

They dance, and Emma is helpless to grin back when Killian is looking at her like that, and Emma thinks the feeling of his hand on her waist feels right, and he feels good standing this close, and they are good together, they always have been, and Emma thinks that right this moment, the world consists only of the two of them, because she thinks she’s already halfway in —

17.

“But you can,” Killian insist, “All he said we need is magic, you’re the Savior, Swan, you can do it,”

“Not anymore, I lost it,” she reminds him, because she still can’t really feel it, can’t reach her magic, no matter how much she tries.

“When Zelena dies, all of her spells were undone, your powers should’ve been restored,”

“Believe me,” she snaps, “If I could make it work, I would, you think I’m faking it?”

And clearly he isn’t interested in holding back his opinions much longer, “I think not having magic makes it a hell of a lot easier for you to run back to New York and pretend to be somebody else,” and Emma thinks this is the first time he really gave her his own opinions on her leaving, gave her his true thoughts, told flatly and matter of factly, rather than just a vague disapproval and gentle persuasions to change her mind.

“But listen to me, Swan. You’re not. It’s time to stop running.”

Except Emma already knows this, has finally accepted it after one to many blank expressions, her parents looking at her, but not seeing her, of Ruby giving nothing more than polite conversations, of Blue’s knowing looks, and even the way Killian’s past self had looked right through her, missing all of their shared moments and connection, just another warm body to take to bed for the night.

“Yes, I run away, that’s how I’ve always survived, but believe me, I want this to work, I wanna go back. I wanna stop running.”

Almost immediately, Killian softens, “What’s changed your mind?”

And she remembers the way they were all helpless to watch her mom get executed, the way she had panicked, so scared of losing another loved one, remembers the way Killian had pulled her into him, remembers the way all she could do after was replay that single moment over and over until Killian mentioned his brother, until they realized Snow was still alive. She thought of the way she leapt forward to hug her mother but she had simply smiled politely before moving on, thinks of how her father had helped with her escape from Regina’s dungeon but barely gave her more than a curious look, remembers the way Killian had wiped her tears, the way she had watched her father fall in love with her mother, thought of what Mary Margaret had said to her so long ago, back when she had just been her roommate, thought about how she had been so busy trying to keep out pain with her walls, she hadn’t been able to let love through, either.

Not her parents’ love for her, not her own love for them, for her new baby brother, had constantly kept Killian at a distance because of how he made her feel, regardless of how little reason she has to not trust him, regardless of how much she feels she could someday return his feelings (especially because she feels she’s already on her way to returning them).

“I had saved and lost her, too. And that’s what I’ve been doing to her since I met her. It’s gotta stop,” Killian is only watching her patiently, encouragingly, and it just makes the words tumble out of her mouth, “When Henry brought me to Storybrooke, he told me I was the Savior. I didn’t see what he was really doing. He was not bringing me back to break a curse, he was bringing me home.”

And she misses it. Misses the loft, misses the diner, the clocktower and library, misses the docks and the forests, and her parents and her brother, and Henry, misses the grilled cheese and onion rings, misses the cocoa with cinnamon, the coffee at the sheriff’s station, misses the feel of magic and Leroy’s screaming about danger, misses it all, and Neal was right, because she feels at home in Storybrooke, at home with Henry and her parents and her brother and she wants to go home, because “Being with my parents these last few days but not really being with them — I’ve never missed them more.”

She’s ready to accept it now. “Storybrooke — it’s my home,”

But Killian is smiling down at her, knowing and proud, and she doesn't know why he’s smiling, but it’s Killian and she can’t help but return his smile. “What?”

“Look down,” is all he says, still looking entirely to proud and pleased and smug, and the wand is working, and she’s just staring, looking back at him to see if it really is, if she really does — “I’d say you’ve got your magic back,” he says simply. “Now, shall we go?”

18.

Emma’s home. Emma’s home, and she’s called her parents mom and dad and Henry is delighted by the fact that they're staying now, and she is too, except —

Except something isn’t right, something is missing, someone is missing, and she has told the story of her fairytale adventure, has shared her success to he mom and her dad and Henry, and even her baby brother but —

But Killian, who had been by her side throughout it all, who was the only piece of home she had left as they were trapped in the past, Killian who had taken her to Rumplestiltskin, helped plan Snow stealing the ring, who had taken her hand and led her to the dance floor, who had opened himself to her as they danced her first dance at her first royal ball — Killian who had pulled her close when she thought her mother was about to die, who comforted her and wiped her tears, who she is halfway —

He is not at her side now. She misses him.

He isn’t even in the diner. She finds him alone outside, and her heart aches at the lonely picture he paints, playing with his flask.

She does not want him to be alone.

“So,” she starts lightly, taking the seat closest to him, “do you think Rumplestiltskin is right? I’m in the Book now. He said everything besides our little adventure would go back to normal. Do you think that it is?” She does not even know why she’s asking this, just knows she doesn't want him to sit alone.

“He’s right,” he says, “Otherwise I’d remember that damn bar wench I kissed.” he eyes her slightly, and Emma has to laugh, how would that prove anything, because Hook had looked right through her as well, does not look at her like Killian does, like he’s in —

But Killian just smirks at her, looking unfairly attractive as he reminds her, “I know how you kiss. I’d have gone after her. But I didn’t, my life went on exactly the same as before.”

“Must’ve been the rum,” she murmurs, because he isn’t lying.

“Everything’s back to normal. You’re a bloody hero, Swan,”

“So are you,” she reminds him, because sometimes it seems he needs the reminding, and he only chuckles, only looks away, but Emma won’t let him dismiss it that easy, not when he has done so much for her and for her family, not when he had brought her back from New York, “I wanted to thank you, Killian.”

He looks up, meets her eyes, and he looks so confused, as if she has no reason to thank him, and it just makes her want to push this further, regardless of the more dangerous territories the conversation might head towards. “For going back for me in the first place in New York. If you hadn’t —“

“It was the right thing to do,” is all he says, and Emma — Emma has wondered, for so long how, how he found her, how he tracked her down, for he crossed realms to find her, to save her, to bring her home. She’s been dancing around the question for so long. “How did you do it? How did you get to me?”

(Emma doesn't even know if she’s talking about New York or her heart.)

“Well, the curse was coming. I ditched my crew and took the Jolly Roger as fast and as far as I possibly could to outrun it.” he says it like it’s nothing, you outran a curse, but she should really stop being so surprised by him, “I’m a hell of a captain,” he laughs, and continues, “And once I was outside the curse’s purview, I knew that the walls were down, transport between worlds was possible again... all I needed was a magic bean,”

“Those are not easy to come by,” he shifts, then, looks away from her, looks uncertain and melancholic and suddenly, Emma feels that she is missing something major, and Killian looks like he doesn’t want her to press anymore, but —

“They are if you’ve got something of... value to trade.”

“And what was that?” she asks lightly. How many doubloons or jewels or gold and treasure —

“Why the Jolly Roger, of course.” he says as if it’s obvious, as if it’s something anyone would do, as if it was just another object, another piece of jewelry, like it wasn’t possibly one of the biggest sacrifices he could make, and Emma —

Stares.

Stunned.

Because he’s plastered on a forced smile, kept his tone light, because he’s trying to shrug it off like it’s nothing, trying to keep his bravado up, as if it’s —

Maybe she heard wrong, you traded your ship for me, but he only drops the act, and he’s staring at her, honest, “Aye.” and she knows, knows what this means to him, to her, knows he’s giving her his heart to keep or break, knows he likely wouldn’t care either way, because he came back for her, took her to Neverland, helped save her father’s life, helped save Henry’s life, and he bore his heart to her for the first time on the beanstalk, and again under the decks of his ship, in Neverland, at the town line, in New York, in the forests of Storybrooke, in the past, knows she has had his heart for so long now, and she knows he wouldn’t break her heart because he is who he says he is.

Because he’s saying it not to gain favor but simply because she had asked and he didn't want to lie. Because she thinks she might already be halfway in love with Killian Jones. Because she’s tired of denying that she couldn't bear to lose him in her life.

So she kisses him, and he doesn’t even move until her lips are pressed to his, letting her take the lead and they are kissing for the first real time, because Neverland was passion and attraction and heat of the moment, but now, now doesn't kiss him for his ship, or as thanks or for some diversion tactic, she kisses him because she can’t bear not to, because as much as she had buried away her weaknesses, as much as she put up mile high walls around her heart, he sees right through them, and waits patiently for the ones he can’t get past, and she wants to let him in.

They stop for a breath and she smiles at him, because it’s perfect, and he smiles in return, and this time he is the one leaning in, and Emma’s letting down her walls to love her family, to love her home, to someday, maybe, love Killian, and she’s letting down her walls to be loved in return, and she has never felt more safe, has never felt more at peace.

She thinks she’s finally ready to take that chance and let him in.

[silvanable]

Idk if hcs are open and ignore me if it isnt!! Can i request an angsty ikevamp prompt? How would suitors react to an MC he likes who likes another suitor? Both suitor and MC's love can be unrequited, and MC could come to suitor to talk about her unrequited love. If you want to make it super angsty, MC could be suitor's first actual romantic interest in a very long time. Plz feel free to choose any suitor, but my favs are leo/comte. I love your writings :) thanks so much!

i know you said headcanons but i saw this as a perfect opportunity to slap down an angst filled fic because i’m not doing so hot and i can’t process emotions unless it’s written format. anyways, i hope you don’t mind!

i figured it was about time i got back to my roots, bringing the unholy angst back that started this blog— 

SO HAPPY THANKSGIVING AND WHY NOT WRECK CELEBRATE THE HOLIDAYS WITH A LITTLE ANGST, EH?

and everyone can cry with me because we all abso—fucking—lutely know that comte would sideline himself and his feelings for the better of others.

↪  GUIDELINES

✒ tags : unrequited love, comte x mc, mentioned mc x leonardo, angsty af, gn!reader mostly but love languages don’t have fucking gn terms

✒ warnings : n/a

✒ word count : 1740

It seemed this was some sort of punishment. It had to be, perhaps to make up for all the things he had done in his youth. Fitting, he would agree, but it did not lessen the pain.

Here you are, sitting in the garden with him.

A wistful sigh falls from your lips.

The things he would do to comfort you. To assure you that you were deserving of all admiration and love.

He would steal your breath with amorous kisses, only daring to relent when neither of you could last a moment longer without air. He would whisper every loving and reassuring word he could muster from his tongue. He would hold you close and keep you in his embrace until you understood how much he adored you.

He would do all these things because he loved you like any other before. You were intoxicating. The way you smiled brought warmth to his chest. The sound of your laughter was a melody he could never tire of. The scent of you was more intoxicating than any vintage wine that ever grazed his lips.

Without you, he was empty and hollow. You had brought the light back into his life. You had offered a hand to him and showed him a gentleness he believed he was undeserving of.

And perhaps he still was because your heart belonged to another.

Comte forced a small smile.

“Ma cherie,” He called your attention. Those beautiful eyes flickered away from the cup of tea in your hands and up to him. His heart still had not gotten used to such a sweet gaze upon him, yet now it was broken with sorrow.

“You said you wanted my advice on something?”

You pursed your lips in response. It seemed you were second-guessing yourself on the need to talk. Comte knew the expression you made all too well and offered a small, encouraging nod.

Another sigh escaped you, far heavier than the one before. “There’s… Someone I like and the problem is, well, they don’t seem to feel the same way.”

What a bitter irony of life.

“See,” You shifted, sitting up and twisted your hands in the hem of your sleeves, “It’s been a long time since I felt something for someone and… I don’t know— maybe I’m just over-analyzing it because they were nice.”

He understood, Comte understood entirely what you meant. After all, he was looking at the very person who had set a spark to his heart’s fire and he would never say a thing.

“Are you sure this mysterious suitor is just unaware of your affections?” He took a sip from the teacup in his hands. He tried to play it off calmly, to hold himself together.

Nothing was allowed to slip through his carefully crafted facade. It took decades to build such a gentlemanly persona and he would not allow himself to fall in shambles, back onto his old ways. No, he had to be a better man.

No matter how much this drove a knife into his chest.

You shrugged, defeated with a gesture of your hand. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because we’re just too different—personal—and don’t even get me started on time-traveling culturally!” An exasperated huff left you, somewhere between a broken laugh and squashed sob.

Comte said your name softly, “Surely there are things you have similar, things that drew you to this person,” He set the tea aside on the table between you both, “Have you confronted them about your feelings?”

As if he was one to talk about such a thing, with you just across from him, yet he hid a secret from you.

A growl of frustration erupted from your throat. “That’s the thing! I’ve tried so many times to find a good moment but any time I start, he somehow always manages to run away!” By now you were on your feet, angrily pacing through the gazebo.

“I mean, did I do something wrong? Is it because he’s a vampire and I’m not?” You vented, too caught in the whirlwind of your growing anger to notice the softness the pureblood gazed at you with.

He understood the fear of that commitment. You were mortal after all, he was not. No doubt the resident—who Comte had a growing suspicion of who, yet would not dare entertain the thought, not yet—feared their long life and falling for someone who would, eventually, pass away and leave them a broken heart.

He would love you nonetheless. If you were his, he would dare to turn you if you let him, so that he could have you to himself longer.

Selfish, yes, but if he had been fortunate enough to have your heart he would never want to let it go.

“Or is it because of the door? I don’t have to go back—hell! I’ve thought more than once these past few weeks about not going back!” You glared heatedly at the mansion. A gaze that was so fierce that the flames of it practically glowed in your eyes.

“But when I mention I might suddenly Leonardo—” Comte visibly flinched, you did not notice, “—is insisting that I go the moment I’m able when all I’ve been trying to tell him is I want to stay for him!”

How could you be so cruel and yet so gentle at the same time?

Comte had only wished you had never said his name, his closest friend. He could feel his heart twist, the ugly head of jealousy reared like a viper, but he forced it down.

He was a gentleman, one of the utmost kind.

Comte’s smile strained but to you, it was sympathetic. “You must understand, ma cherie, as pureblood vampires things are different for us.”

“Yes and?” You turned to Comte, expression twisted and asking to explain how any of that mattered. How did being different like that matter so much when you were so enamored with him that you were willing to give up everything you knew just to be with him.

“Does he not want me and just doesn’t want to tell me?” Your voice welled with emotion suddenly, “Does he think it’s sparing my feelings instead of telling me straight?” Tears gathered in your eyes.

It was painful to see you becoming so unraveled. At that moment, it took all his strength to remain poised and still, to not reach over and take you into his arms and kiss away all of your tears. But he could not be the jealous man, it was not his place, because he was not your lover. He was nothing but your host and he had to remain the courteous host for you. 

 And now of all times, he damned himself for taking that position, because it meant he would never have you.

“Perhaps he believes that not telling you will spare you of forcing your decision, of stealing the life you have ahead of you.” And to protect you from the heartache I feel now.

You sank back into your seat. A disheartened sigh fell from your lips as you put your head in your hands. “What should I do?” You lifted your head to look at Comte.

He could not resist your gaze, the way your beautiful eyes plead with him. He wanted to see that stunning smile of yours again, the one that brightened his days, the one he cherished in his dreams.

It was decided at that moment, he would see your smile again. Even if it meant he had to break his heart to have you happy. To see you happy was all he wanted.

“Let me speak with Leonardo,” He prayed you had not heard the jealousy hidden in his chest in his voice, “I’m sure I can find what is troubling my friend and spare you from any further pain.” He leaned forward, taking your hand in his.

If he could freeze time he would have, to engrave this moment in space and never let it pass. The warmth of your hand in his. How the light returned to your face with newfound hope. The sparkle in your eyes. Everything, he wanted to remember everything about you at this moment forever and preserve it.

Alas, time was fleeting, and moved on despite his desperate wishes. So he had to keep the memory, tucked away somewhere close to his heart, never to leave him even with the wear of time.

“You would?” The eager hopefulness in your voice was heart-wrenching.

“Of course, ma cherie,” He patted your hand before he reluctantly withdrew his touch, “This is an issue you have with one of my residents and I would not be a decent host to let these problems fester when they affect you so.”

You were absolutely beaming, a bright smile that could rival the sun’s own warmth and light. It was something he wished he could have basked in for eternity.

“Thank you so much, Comte,” You jumped from your seat, throwing your arms around him.

The action was so sudden it had taken him by surprise and yet before he could process and return the gesture, you drew away again.

“Thank you!” You repeated, gathering up the dishes from your tea chat, “I should go help Sebastian with dinner.” Your tone was practically ecstatic as you moved back towards the path to the mansion.

All the while Comte only smiled at you. Yet as your figure grew further and further away, fading into the gardens lush greenery, his smile began to gradually fall.

That facade of a caring, gentlemanly host shattered the moment you were gone. Emotions erupted from the tight fist that had held them at bay. Comte pressed a hand to his mouth, restraining the sounds of sorrow that threatened to burst from him. Amber eyes welled with unshed tears.

Emotions rushed over him like a tidal wave. There was no moment to breathe, not a chance to catch himself. No, these feelings grabbed hold of him and dragged him under. He would drown in them and nothing could save him now.

Comte swallowed hard and his eyes fluttered close.

The sky grew darker as time passed him by in silence.

He took a shaky breath and steadied himself, dropping his hand into his lap, as he regained his composure.

“For you,” His voice betrayed the emotions under the calm face, “For you, ma cherie, and your smile.”

[sparklymuses]

►   BASICS  ...  ??

·         PEN NAME:  Sparkle.

·         PRONOUNS:  He / him.

·         ZODIAC SIGN:  Capricorn. Literally do not give a single damn about zodiac signs but hearing about them and all that is interesting. I’m a goat.

·         TAKEN  OR  SINGLE:  Single. Would like to be taken but I don’t trust dating sites.

►  THREE FACTS  ...  ??

·         I have a certificate in Art and a diploma in Graphic Design !!

·         I grew up with the Playstation 2 and many of the games inspired me to pursue cartoons and animation as my passion. I also wish to make a video game one day because of their way to explore stories no other medium can.

·         My favorite video games are Kingdom Hearts 2, Metal Gear Rising, and Asura’s Wrath. One of my favorite movies is Shin Godzilla. Current favourite animes are Jujutsu Kaisen, Madoka Magica, and My Hero Academia. Most recent stuff I’ve watched is Oddtaxi, Spy X Family and Black Clover.

►  EXPERIENCE  ...  ??

·         PLATFORMS USED: Discord, tumblr and I used deviantart for the longest time until the update came along and made all the profiles look hideous. Place was also kinda dead so ... I tried my luck here. I also did Youtube roleplay when I was super young.

·         I started back in 2014-ish on deviantart playing Adagio Dazzle from MLP before going onto Peko, but if we want to be specific I’d say 2008 with Youtube RP with a group of three friends. We met up every day just to fuck around with DBZ fights and plots with muses of Sonic OCs and Pokemon OCs; it was amazing.

►   MUSE PREFERENCE  ...  ??

·         GENDER:  At first I didn’t think I had a preference, but then I realized all of my muses are ... girls. It never struck me at first, but I don’t know why  —  I just like girls.

·         LEAST FAVORITE FACE(S):  Personally, I don’t give a damn about face claims. As in I don’t care whoever you use - play them as a character however you want.

·         MULTI OR SINGLE:  I’ve used single accounts for the longest time, but I cannot recommend multi-muses enough. Not only do you not have to make a new page and set your shite everytime you want to try someone new, but even if they don’t work out it’s not a big deal.

►   FLUFF /  ANGST  /  SMUT  ...  ??

·         FLUFF:  Having times where muses calm down from the hardened persona’s a lot of them are crafted out to be to just be kind and relax with another soothes the soul. I don’t do them a lot compared to angst or memes, but just having a time for your muse to be happy tends to make me feel happier.

·         ANGST:  Angst is probably the most I’ve written out of these three ?? It is a lot of fun to consider the darker side of your muse and writing it out. I know everyone kinda does the meme of “ haha my muse about to have bad time ” but there is an interest of how dark you can be with your muse. Having them come out the other side is interesting.

·         SMUT:  I’ve done no smut in tumblr RP  -  mostly because of people’s rules and I mostly reserve anything lewd related. Also people are really really angry for certain muses doing lewd stuff. I don’t do any of that and I’m against minors doing lewd stuff. If I were to do smut RP, it be in Discord with close friends.

·         PLOT  /  MEMES:  I personally like to meme and plot! I think memes are easier since they’re more digestible and just ... kinda easier to think up on the spot. I love to talk plot with other people, but I tend to notice that plotted stuff gets dropped more frequently. I don’t know if that’s me or if I’m unlucky - but after talking so long about plots only for them to get dropped it’s kinda sad. I love plotting but I just don’t do it as much nowadays.

tagged  :  @cantillat​ tagging  :  anyone interested !!

[persephonesinfernos]

constellations | part six.

summary: there are only 88 officially recognized constellations, a small number considering you and your soulmate would have the exact same constellation on your skin. how can be sure if it was really them with so few of them? you could mistake your soulmate.

word count: 1578.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader.

warnings: abusive boyfriends, violence.

constellations masterlist | masterlist

Bucky did not appear, Nat did not appear. No one appeared for that matter. Not a knight in shining armour was running towards you to save the day. No, you were alone with someone you used to love and trust when it happened.

This was not a movie, nothing could’ve saved you from happening. This was real life and real life is hard, impartial and fucked up. You were not the first woman who has gone through this and you will not be the last one.

The slap to your face was not what hurt more of this situation. Neither were the successive hits you took from Erik. That was nothing, just physical pain that would go away.

What hurt most about the situation you were currently in was how you felt your heart shattered into a million pieces. How the love and adoration you once felt for someone were replaced by horror and fear. How your trusting persona was no longer there. Hit by hit, your whole being kept breaking down more and more, just as your cheeks and lips did.

The sun rays did not wake you up, you were not able to fall asleep after the beating.  Erik did not leave your side, he stayed over. His body pressed to yours, arms around you. Once in a protective way, not anymore. You haven’t dared to move an inched in case Erik noticed, well just breathing was hurting you.

He was clever, he’d hit you in places the bruises wouldn’t be too prominent and that you only could see once you were undressed. Expect for those in your face, that you were sure were placed there so every time you look yourself in the mirror you would know who you belong to.

Those were the words used by him along with some other nasty comments. Just the memory made you flinch.

Erik started to stir next to you, he was waking up. You held your breath, tears threatening to spill. When he was fully awake, he kissed your cheek.

“Morning love.” He said smiling as if nothing’s ever happened. You stood still, not being able to move. “I love you so much, you cannot imagine (Y/N).” His words almost made you puke right there.

“I need to go, I’ll see you at the end of your classes. You know where I’ll be” His voice made you feel chills all over your body and it ached, it ached so much due to the already formed bruises on your stomach and shoulders and to your broken soul. This time not a single tear could be kept.

You looked at your reflection on the mirror, you were a mess. Not even a shower could have helped you. The bruises and cuts on your once smooth skin seemed to be highlighted by the shower you just took.

How could you let this happen? How could you not see that? You were so fucking stupid and naïve, and now… Now.

You broke down crying hard, knees on the cold bathroom floor. You had no strength to support yourself up, everything was spinning. Panic was setting in and you could not breathe or you were breathing too much. Hyperventilating? Shit, panic attack.

Break through this (Y/N). You thought, do it for you. So you pulled all your strength together and got up. Hands clenching the sides of your bathroom counter, looking one more to yourself in that fucking mirror.

Something went wild inside you. With a scream you threw you fist to the mirror, destroying it.

This was not your fault, you should’ve not seen it coming. ‘Cause it is not your damn fault, it was only his. No other girls saw it coming when it happened. You would not endure comments as “it is your fault, you laid eyes on another man”. Well, you were free to feel love or to stop feeling it, you never promised anyone your undying love or your life. Your feelings were allowed to change and disappeared.

And you would not endure comments about Erik being just concern and jealous. No, you wouldn’t. You were sick and tired of this idea planted on everyone’s brains about how jealousy means concern and to keep someone safe. No, it does not. Jealousy is a scourge in this society, it means possession and not trusting and to want to be in control of your partner and all their actions.

The mere course of your thoughts made you puke all over the sink, but you didn’t matter. This was ending today, you were not going to be more afraid. Not gonna let Erik made you feel like last night, fuck him and fuck his bullshit.

Your apartment phone ring, you picked up.

“(Y/N)? I’m Steve, Steve Rogers. I was trying to get a hold of you but your mobile phone is dead or something.” You heard him.

“Yeah, sorry about it. How’s everything?” You answered him.

“Fine, but I need you in here in an hour tops to start your internship. Can you make it?”

You arrived in time to the base, make-up covering all your scars. Battle scars, that’s what you decided to call them.

As you entered the room you locked eyes with Bucky, you forgot about him with all the crap that went down. You instantly felt guilty and sad as you saw the sadness and confusion in his breathtaking eyes. He looked away, as he did not know you, it broke your heart even more. Something you couldn’t believe.

“(Y/N), I’m glad you could make it,” Steve said to you while patting your right shoulder. The touched sent a wave of pain all over your body and even though you tried not to flinch, a pained emotion flashed through your face. Steve was not aware but Bucky did, Bucky noticed every single detail about you.

“Had nothing better to do and this gives me a good excuse to not attend classes so…” You chuckled. Your eyes searched for Bucky’s, but he kept staring straight.

“Well, education is important young lady.” You rolled your eyes at his comment. “I just want you to get familiarized with the base of operations and where you’ll be working. So not a too rough star. Bucky will be your supervisor, I get a feeling that you two would get along.” Your jaw clenched and you gulped.

Steve eyed you, sensing the tension on your body. “I gotta go, have a nice day and whatever you need, give me a call.”

Bucky still didn’t glance at you and you couldn’t stand it so you walked to him “Hey, I’m sorry about…”

“I called you, too many time that I lost count.” He decided to look down on you, betray in his eyes. “You promised you’d be back (Y/N), you promised me.” He said with a slightly plead for an explanation.

“I know but things went crazy and by the time I was done with Erik I just couldn’t move and fell asleep.” You said softly reaching your hands to his. You did not lie, just omitted the whole truth.

He seemed to buy it and that only made the knot on your stomach to get tighter. “Okay, okay.” He let out a breath that was mixed with a light laughter, his other hand running through his brunette locks.

His hands reached to your shoulders to get you closer to him, it hurt but you said nothing. That was until he kissed you, your lips were broken and the lipstick could cover much but as he was kissing you they started to itch and burn, making you pull away with a pained groan.

Bucky observed you carefully, worry setting in his beautiful features. “Why is your lip bleeding?” His comment made you reached your lips with your fingers.

As you noticed the metallic taste of the blood in your tongue and the red colour of it in your finger you, alarm was all you could feel. You stepped back not daring to look at Bucky.

“(Y/N)?” His tone was a mixture of concern and anger. He strode to you and if it wasn’t for this current situation you would be turned on by this.

He grabbed your wrist gently “Look up at me doll, please. Let me help you”.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I just….” No more words came off your mouth but you didn’t cry this time, just looked down at your feet.

He reached to your waist to pull you in for a hug and this time you couldn’t help it. You flinched to his touch and whimper loudly.

He, Bucky, your soulmate searched for the origin of your pain and reached to pull your shit up and saw a giant bruise on your right hip. Clenching his left fist to his side, his jaw shut down and reached for your shoulder. This area was worse, besides the purple bruise, there were some cuts could re-open anytime soon, too recently done that were red.

“WHO. DID. THIS?” He whisper-shouted to you. “IT WAS THAT FUCKING ERIK SCUMBAG, WASN’T IT?” Your eyes not meeting his yet. “This is the reason you weren’t able to come back to me.” He stated, an interrogation tone in his voice.

Your lips quiver, a single tear fell on Bucky’s hand and he lost it.

“I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.” He said as he stormed off the room. He was fuming enraged.

Constellation Tag List: @zizzlekwum​ |

[all-things-mlqc]

What do you think Shaw's fairytale could have been, had he been included in the "Wonderland after Dark" event?

First and foremost, now that I’ve written my response, I went way over the top with this idea. Was originally going to just summarize this idea and maybe slap Shaw’s face on Disney’s “Robin Hood” fox as a shit edit for funsies yet here we are with a whole HC. Anywho, I hope you enjoy and feel free to comment what other fairytale stories you guys think Shaw would’ve been good for!

Honestly my first thought was Aladdin or Robin Hood. I’m trying to think what best goes with his personality and how you could twist those stories into something new like they have with the other boys. I honestly feel like Robin Hood fits his personality especially with his latest event where he basically pulls a Robin Hood move, stealing from an antique store that was trying to sell fakes for the price of authentic pieces. He “took care” of the owner and people who were involved with this shameless exchange and by took care I mean beat them to a pulp in the alley, stole the items, and even got the shop closed down. While he didn’t necessarily steal valuable items and distribute the wealth to others like what our known Robin Hood does, what he did still protected many people without them knowing. Shaw has that sly, fun way of living life and really does help others without their knowledge. Even if it’s in his own dumbass way which can be selfish at times, I think he could’ve had a pretty good Robin Hood story in this event.

Robin Hood Shaw

Here’s your shit edit that took a total of 4.6 minutes to make

I imagine it would’ve gone something like this:

Shaw as Robin Hood would never settle in one place for too long. He enjoys adventuring around and would often be found visiting many different villages.

There were rumors in nearby villages of a vigilante who would supposedly ambush criminals, bandits, and even rich folks in the nearby villages who were involved with some sort of dirty business.

While he is a stubborn moron who does stupid things and can be selfish at times, he’s never once harmed or stolen from innocent people. He finds it thrilling when he’s able to let loose and be on the verge of getting caught, so fighting criminals/bandits/bad people within the village was how he enjoyed living life.

While most of his reasoning behind it may be selfish, the people of the nearby villages still considered him a hero.

He enjoyed taking out the rumored bandits outside of the village, getaway criminals within the village, and most of all, he enjoyed stealing from tactless, arrogant “royals” is what these people call themselves who used dirty tactics to gain the wealth they had.

Shaw loved the thrill of sneaking in and stealing their valuable belongings that were acquired unjustly with the chance of getting caught. And what he loved more was seeing their infuriated expressions after realizing they had been robbed.

To cover up his tracks, he would distribute the wealth among the good people of the village. He insists his good deeds are nothing more than him wanting some good entertainment and only gives the villages the wealth to cover up his tracks but we all know he’s secretly soft. Under all that bitchassness ofc

He would, however, always keep one item for himself. Whatever seemed to have caught his eye in that moment. The items he collected varied. He didn’t always care about their worth and would often take whatever seemed interesting to him.

Most of the money he used to provide food, clothing, and shelter came from the bandits and criminals. He had plenty of money to get around.

So in this date, I imagine MC going around village to village looking for this vigilante so called “Robin Hood” to help her village. Similar to Disney’s “Robin Hood” film, the people of the village are forced to pay an unfair amount of taxes to the people in control who then use those taxes for their own selfish desires, leaving the people of the village to suffer.

MC uses Robin Hood’s latest sightings from different villages as clues to where she may be able to find him, but many villagers tell her it’s hopeless, that he never shows himself as Robin Hood in public.

While asking around in a nearby village, Shaw overhears her conversation and catches her outside the village during her departure back home.

He asks why she’s looking for Robin Hood so she explains her village’s current situation vaguely to him.

Without explaining himself, he joins her on her journey back to her village.

She was uncertain about him tagging along without an explanation but soon had some friendly banter I say friendly but this man is just annoying as hell and we love it with one another. Y’all know how friendly Shaw is. Annoying but good at making conversation. Ya know... like his usual self.

Anywho, they come across some bandits on the way back where *enter Robin Hood Shaw*.

While Shaw fends off the bandits, MC also joins in and surprises him with some fighting skills of her own which ya’ll know damn well he’s gonna like.

MC was able to piece things together after seeing his fighting style and capability in which she asks if he’s Robin Hood.

He chuckles and responds with a simple “let’s go” as he continues towards the direction of her village.

She follows suit with way too many questions like mood mc, I wanna know what life is like as a bitch vigilante too but you also gotta remember he’s an annoying asshat

To be honest, her first impression after realizing he was Robin Hood was something like “wow wasn’t expecting him to be a dumb bitch” after all that friendly banter. But then again what do you expect from a man who purposely gets himself into danger?

Her questions included those as such: Why did you become Robin Hood? Have you ever been caught? Why do you always keep one stolen item from each place you rob?

His response was a question of his own “Why do you need the help of Robin Hood when you are capable of fighting, yourself?”

She pauses and explains she isn’t capable of helping the village all by herself and thought if she could find Robin Hood, the village would have hope.

Shaw pauses and states his own desires, “I’m not the person people make me out to be. I don’t do these things for the people, I do them for myself. Whether or not you want to believe I help people, in the end, I’m only doing this for myself.”

With that being said, MC suddenly felt a wall being built between them. Not that they had a well developed relationship beforehand

Still, MC explains her village’s situation in much more detail in hope of coming up with a plan.

MC throws out a few ideas while Shaw asks questions about her village and the men in control and then offers his own ideas.

After a lifetime of teasing and bickering, they come to a conclusion.

Once again bringing in Disney’s classic “Robin Hood” film, I thought it would be fun to include a fox in this story and even did some research on Chinese mythological creatures.

Huli jings are fox like mythological creatures that have the capability to shapeshift.

So to add a little twist in this story like the rest of the boys, MC’s village just so happened to be guarded by a huli jing spirit, or so the legends within the village say.

Shaw, with his sly, sneaky Robin Hood persona decided to use this to his advantage.

For days after returning to MC’s village, they gathered materials for their plan for the next time taxes would be collected.

With Shaw’s skills, he would dress as the huli jing spirit shapeshifted as a human wearing a fox mask and fight those who come by to collect taxes, threatening them to leave the village and never return while MC was in charge of special effects to make the “performance” seem more realistic.

He thought the idea of these awful villagers being frightened half to death by a “spirit” was rather entertaining and would make this mission much more satisfying in the end after everything going according to plan. Basically his thought process was “imagine pulling something off so ridiculous yet so incredible”

Slowly driving one by one out of the village, Shaw continued to “haunt” and threaten anyone involved.

However, it was only a matter of time when one of them realized it was all staged after finding MC off to the side, helping Shaw with his “performance”.

MC was then taken to the person in charge and held captive.

Once Shaw realized she had gone missing, he suspected the remaining few caught on and had her as a hostage so he finished his job more quickly and efficiently. Mr. iM dOiNg ThiS fOr mYsELf

Being stuck with the man in charge who was responsible for the village’s suffering, MC began asking why he did everything he had done, why he doesn’t help the village like one should. Oh MC, sweet sweet MC, there are some terrible people in the world and you should know this

After talking with the man for some time, there was a loud crash following the man being knocked to the ground by a powerful force.

“I’ve come to steal you away” is all MC hears before being swept up into Shaw’s arms.

With the man on the ground letting out painful cries, Shaw reveals himself as Robin Hood, receiving an appalled gasp from the man lying on the floor as he demands him to leave the village for good and never return.

The man refuses to give up, calling for backup only to be met with silence.

Shaw: Oh? You haven’t heard? They all fled the village. The remaining ones have been dealt with as well. It’s best you do the same if you value your life.

With this being said, the man got up and frantically stumbled out of the building.

As Shaw carries MC outside, the villagers thank him as they distribute the wealth found within the mans home among everyone, now safe from their continued suffering.

Enjoying her embarrassed expression, Shaw quietly teases MC while continuing to carry her away from others.

MC: You can put me down now, Mr. Every man for himself.

Shaw: Oh? I guess I found that time spent with you is utterly amusing and would be a shame to lose such entertainment.

MC: Well if you don’t go back soon, everything will be taken and you won’t be able to get your reward.

Shaw: And what reward would that be?

MC: The one item you choose to keep from every theft you’ve ever done.

Shaw chuckles while leaning close, whispering in her ear, “I’ve already taken my reward”.

Bye, I’ll be suffering while wishing we actually had Shaw in this event because he would’ve been 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

[strangerontheotherside84]

Live Wire Part 2 (Billy Hargrove x Reader)

Disclamer: okay so this is part 2 and I’m actually considering to continue this story a bit more. let me know what you think.

Warnings: swearing, 18+, smut, underage drinking, cheating

tagged: @winter-captain-01

________________________________________________________

Billy’s POV

„Hello? Is anybody home?“

Actually Billy would have prefered to stay in the car and not have another meet-the-parents-experience but since Vicki didn’t come outside at 8 like she said she would, he had had no other choice than to go looking for her. She was propably busy doing her hair again.

He was already heading towards Vicki’s room as he heard loud banging noises coming from the basement. He followed the sound, quickly making his way down the wodden stairs. What he then saw was more than he could have ever excpected.

Y/n was sitting behind a drumset playing along to Mötley Crüe’s „Live Wire“. She was brutally hitting the drums, making it hard to hear the actual record which was playing over the speakers, while mouthing the words or maybe even singing along. Her y/h/c hair was falling in her face. Billy stood in silence, watching her for a while until she finally moved her head towards the stairs, meeting his gaze, which caused her to stop playing immediately.

„Wrong floor, thought you’d knew that by now.“, were the words she greeted him with as she got up and turned down the stereo behind her, barely bothering to look at him. „Vicki isn’t here.“

„Where is she then?“ „I don’t know and I don’t care.“ „She told me to pick her up at 8.“ „Well sorry bout that. But I hope you can understand that my compassion is limited to a minimum in this case. It was you who chose to voluntary spend time with her after all.“, y/n scoffed as she walked over to a trunk in the back of the room and bent over to grab a can of beer out of it. She was wearing a pair of red gym shorts that barely covered her ass, making it very hard for Billy not to stare at her. „So you’re not going to Tina’s party, huh?“, he changed the topic while leaning over the banister he was firmly grabbing onto with both of his hands, licking over his lips. „I never do.“, still no eye-contact. „And why’s that?“ „I don’t get invited and other than that I have better things to do.“

„Yeah I can see that.“ Billy noted with a smirk as he precisely watched y/n take a seat behind the drumset again, running her fingers through the messy hair that was sticking to her face. Cheeks flustered. One could only imagine how she would look like in other sweat-inducing activties, “Hey, how abou-?“

„Billy! What are you doing down here?“, Vicki’s voice suddenly interrupted him, „I’ve been waiting for you in my room! Hurry up! We’re going to be late for the party!“.

Billy rolled his eyes before walking up the stairs, pushing past her to make his way to the car. Vicki stopped him by grabbing his arm and basically throwing herself at the curly haired boy. „I missed you so much. Such a shame that you didn’t come upstairs right away.“

„Get a room! And please not this one. I haven’t got that many left to choose from.“, y/n groaned from downstairs.

Reader POV:

Before finally leaving the basement Vicki turned her attention towards you with an annoyed look on her face, „Also, calm down with the the drumming, freak! You’re not Nikki Lee.“

„It’s Tommy.“, you corrected her with a sigh. „Whatever. You’re neither of them. Just a sad loser that spends her friday nights in her parents basement.“, Vicki snapped at you before turning on her heels and walking away with a satisfied smirk.

Wow, what a burn. Wonder how long it took her to come up with that one. „Better than some dumb bitch who’s highlight of the week it is to show off her new boytoy to a bunch of boring Highschool kids.“ you muttered under your breath while picking up your sticks again, quickly spinning one of them between your fingers.

„What was that?“ „Nothing. Have fun at the party!“, you chirped sarcastically before turning towards Billy once again, “Do me a favor and try not to fuck out whatever is left of her brains.“

Vicki opened her mouth to protest but you had already turned the stereo back up, while smashing the snare and stomping your foot on the base-drum to the rhythm of „Take Me To The Top“, while sticking your tongue out at her.

From of the corner of your eye you could see Billy laughing to himself which earned him a deadly stare from Vicki before she grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room.

-

I want you, I need you I want you to be mine tonight You need me, you tease me Use you up, throw you away

You’re fire, taking me higher Don’t burn me, don’t let me down You need me now, I’ll teach you how Come on, let’s go all the way

You were lying on the couch in your parents basement, spinning your drumstick between your fingers while listening to the stereo. Okay maybe you had to admit that playing the same Mötley Crüe record over and over again while drinking by yourself wasn’t the best friday night you ever had. But at least you had finally been able to play the drums again without any of your family members complaining. Your parents were out of town, visiting some friends and you weren’t sure when Vicki and Billy would return from the party. Maybe they already did.

"Y/n?”,the husky voice coming from the top of the stairs made you jump a little,causing you to drop the drumstick to the ground, before you quickly sat up.

“Did I scare you?”

“Nothing scares me.”

„What are you still doing down here?“

„Well I live here, what’s your excuse?.“ you greeted Billy who was slowly making his way down the stairs, “Did Vicki kick you out?“

„No, she’s just completely shitfaced and fell asleep right away.“ „Well damn, all that stupid partying for nothing.“ you scoffed.

“Are you always this-?”

“Amazing?”

“Snarky.”

“Absolutely!”

Your last comment caused Billy to laugh and shake his head as he sat down on the couch next to you, „So y/n what are you doing down here? I thought you had a room.“ „I do but the walls are thin as paper and let’s just say… Vicki and I have an agreement about that.“ „An agreement?“ „Yeah. I stay down here whenever she’s busy faking orgasms or she’ll tell our parents that I went to a Mötley Crüe gig in Chicago last summer without them knowing, hide booze down here and get send to detention a lot more often than they think I do.“

„That’s pretty harsh.“ Billy muttered. It was only now that you realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt underneath his leather jacket and caught yourself staring at his chest a little bit too long. Luckily Billy hadn’t realized that, or at least pretended not to, as he simply continued the conversation by adding,“If the stuff she does really is faking it I wouldn’t wanna know how boring the real deal is to be honest.“, under his breath.

Wow did he really just? Okay somebody clearly wasn’t sober. But if Billy’s drunk-persona consistet of him talking shit about Vicki you might actually could stand his presence just a bit longer.

“Well you know, Vicki always gets what she wants. And as long as it makes our little princess happy it will be my pleasure to give her the illsuion that I don’t exist from time to time.”, you explained sarcastically while making a dramatic gesture with your hand, ”Especially if this adds a little sense of purpose to her dull life.”

Billy chuckled as he ran his hand across his face, moving his messy curls to the side, “Well she should be happy to have a sister that’s got the balls to sneak out of the house to go see Mötley Crüe. That’s pretty impressive if you ask me.”

“That wasn’t even the most impressive thing I did that night to be honest.”, you chuckled.

“It that so?”, Billy replied with a smirk.

“It is.”

“Well guess I chose the wrong sister to hang out with.”

“Oh don’t worry everybody does.”, you replied dry causing Billy to laugh again.

You had to admit that he wasn’t as much of a jerk as you had thought at first. However, this assumption had been strongly influenced by the fact that he was with Vicki the first time you met him. You had never seen him laugh with her and therefore just assumed that he was some sort of a buzzkill.

Still, you just couldn’t seem to get a certain thought out of your mind. It had been sitting in the back of your head for quite a while now and basically shifted into this big question mark burning in your brain within the last few days.

„Can I ask you something?“, you finally brought it up. Lowering your voice as if there were people watching you. „Sure. Go ahead.“, the curly haired boy replied in his low, husky voice while resting his left arm right next to you on the back of the couch, moving a bit closer towards you. His icy blue eyes almost seemed to be glued to your face with anticipation.

„So don’t get me wrong it’s pretty obvious that a guy like you would go for the hot cheerleader type of girl. But Vicki is just…Vicki is one of the most boring and shallow people I know, all of her friends are idiots and she isn’t even particulary nice to you. She just likes to show you off.“

You raised your eyes to check if you had somehow rubbed Billy the wrong way. It was his girlfriend you were talking about after all. But he didn’t seem to care too much about your words and more about what else you’d might have to say.

„You however,“ you continued,“You actually seem kinda cool. At least from what I can tell. And most definitely compared to the jocks she usually brings home.“

„So you’re trying to tell me I’m too badass for your sister?“ „No. Well yes. But what I’m actually trying to say is… you guys have absolutely nothing in common and yes she’s hot and popular but you could have also screwed and never called her again. Yet you chose to date her. Why?“

„What why?“ „Why do you like my sister?“, your voice was barely a whisper.

„I never said I liked her.“ Billy hummed, eyes still fixed to yours with a piercing stare. „Then why do you still come here every other day?“ „Maybe I do because I wanna see somebody else. Someone who actually is badass and nice-“

There was barely an inch left between your faces and before your brain could fully comprehend what he’d just said, Billy had already pressed his lips onto yours, brushing his fingers across your cheek and burying them in your hair. The kiss was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate as you leaned in aswell.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as he quickly grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, making sure not to break the kiss.

„You think I never realized the way you parade around the house whenever I was here?“ Billy muttered in a low tone while trailing kisses down your neck, “How good your ass looks in those shorts and the way your nipples always peek through your shirt? I couldn’t keep my eyes off you since I first saw you y/n.“ He buried his teeth into your skin right above your collar bone as he grabbed your ass with both hands and slapped it quickly afterwards, causing you to hiss with pleasure, „Whenever I got home I always couldn’t stop thinking about all the things I’d like to do to you.“

He placed another sharp slap on your ass.

„You like that?“

„Yes.“ you hummed before cupping his face and kissing him again while running your fingers through his messy curls. Billy immediately responded by playfully biting your lower lip.

You quickly moved back for a split second only to remove your shirt and throw it to the corner of the room. Billy licked across his lips as he ran his hands over your bare chest before finally getting rid of his leather jacket and pulling you closer again. Your kisses grew messier with each second, both of you wanting more. The curly haired boy hissed as you buried your teeth into his lip until you could taste blood.

With one of his hands still grabbing your ass he quickly moved your shorts to the side with the other, a dirty grin flashing across his face at the realization that you weren’t wearing any panties. He moved his thumb across your clit before pushing one of his fingers inside you, curling it almost painfully slow. His actions caused you to whimper into his mouth. “Jesus, y/n who got you this wet?”

Billy quickly unbuckled his belt and slid down his jeans just enough for his errection to spring free, before pushing you off his lap and onto the couch. „Good that I didn’t get to use this earlier, right?“ he muttered with a cocky grin on his face as he took a condom from the pocket of his jeans before taking them off completely. You quickly folowed his example, stripping out of your shorts while Billy was putting the condom over his throbbing cock.

Within a heartbeat he was on top of you again, his tongue playfully teasing yours as he forcfully grabbed your hip with one hand and softly choked you with the other.

You gasped with excitement as he finally pushed inside of you, almost immediately slamming his hips into yours at an unforgiving pace, making it almost impossible for you to keep quiet.

„Come on y/n, don’t hold back. Show me how much you enjoy this.“, his hot breath brushed against your ear, making you shiver.

„Fuck, you feel so good.“,you moaned loudly, very thankful for the fact that the stereo was still blasting music.

„You’re such a dirty girl. Fucking your sisters boyfriend while she’s sleeping upstairs.“ The curly haired boy growled.

„Fuck yes! Tell me I’m better than her.“ you managed to gasp in between moaning and whimpering. Your whole body was shaking and you had the feeling that Billy was making you see stars.

„She’s got nothing on you. Don’t act like you don’t know that.“,he hummed while making eye contact with you. The dirty blonde curls were sticking to his face and his pupils almost completely swallowed the blue of his eyes. Billy moved his head back down to kiss you, his tongue teasing you painfully slow while he pulled out of you, only to thrust back into you seconds later. He sped up his pace once again, chocking you as you buried your fingernails into his back.

„Fuck. Don’t stop! I’m gonna-“, you couldn’t even finish your sentence before your orgasm rushed over you, your whole body twitching and tightening underneath Billy’s weight. The curly haired boy hissed at the sensation quickly reaching his high aswell, his back muscles tightening as he buried his teeth in your neck one final time.

„That was fun, drummer girl.“, he gasped with a grin, breathing heavily, before slowly getting up and grabbing his jeans from the floor.