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rosaliepostsstuff · 4 years

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Little steps (George Weasley x reader) | pt 2 - Interest

Pairing: George Weasley x reader, (hinted) OC x reader

Part 1

Word count: 3059

Summary: When the term starts Y/N tries to enjoy everyday life at Hogwarts, finds herself treated by the twins no more as just their brother’s friend or the popular girl and is excited for the Triwizard tournament to come. The announcement of the Yule Ball leaves her with many propositions, when she already thought she had a date set

Warnings: just a few swears

A/N: Strap back folks, cause I let loose. Didn’t want to rush things and was worried about the pacing of the plot. Excited for the next part cause we’re getting there...

September, 1994

This year was going to be a good one. All three of your previous years at Hogwarts, you and your friends never got to enjoy the ordinary. Each and every time, something was brewing, only to blow up right before the school year ended. Evenings spent on studying and essays were followed by trying to save the world. Or Hogwarts, at the very least. But not this time. You were trying to push back the memories of what happened after the Quidditch World Cup final and just be a teenager.

You sat between Hermione and Harry at the welcoming feast. The sorting hat had sang its song, and you curiously watched the sorting ceremony, wondering who’d join your house this year. But the most exciting thing that happened was, without a doubt, the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament. Even if it meant cancelling the Quidditch Cup that year, you hoped it would prove entertaining enough. You were also looking forward to what having students from two foreign wizarding schools would change in Hogwarts’ life. Only you’d have to wait two months to find out.

The next day was your first day of class, when everyone was starting to get back to their Hogwarts routine after weeks of vacation. The table was busy, some were discussing magical ways of making oneself older a few seats further, some were discussing their new timetables. You studied yours, chewing your toast and listening to what your friends had to say about it. -Today’s not bad… outside all morning, - said Ron, running his finger along Monday’s column -Herbology with the Hufflepuffs and Care of Magical Creatures… damn it, we’re still with the Slytherins… Herbology with Hufflepuffs, huh. You smiled a little to yourself. You had some friends in that house, two of them – Matthew and Eric – you’ve known since childhood. You even went to muggle elementary school together, before your adventure at Hogwarts began – your parents, even though pure-blood and rather wealthy, were progressive. Eric was a year above you, but Matt was your age, so you’d partner up in herbology. This year it would be slightly different, as over the summer things between the two of you changed a bit.

In the first weeks of the term, things had slowly but surely settled down. You had a new, as usual, questionable DADA teacher. Hermione decided to found S.P.E.W., trying to fight for house-elves’ rights. Although slightly unsure of her methods, you couldn’t help but agree with her message. In your world, it seemed normal, in the mansion owned by your dad’s ancestors it was normal, you never questioned it. But in your parents’ household there never was one, and you were just fine.

The day was nice, mid-September air still quite warm as you were making your way through the open corridors near Transfiguration. Your thoughts were shifting between schoolwork and leisure. As you were approaching an intersection, you heard quick, heavy steps. Most people were already in the great hall, as lunchtime started not long before.

Fred and George ran out of one of the corridors, ran past you sparing a glance in your direction as you watched with interest, and then they hopped a half wall to hide behind it. What was it this time? After them, emerged Filch, panting heavily.

For half a second you panicked. Would he blame you for whatever they did? Take you for an accomplice?

It wasn’t logical, you were just casually strolling, but you wouldn’t put anything past the old maniac. You tried to keep yourself together when he looked at you expectantly. Quickly, you pointed into one of the corridors. Your chances were 50/50, he could believe you and let himself be fooled, or see right through you, finding it suspicious, that you tried to help him and try to convince the Headmaster to allow him to tie you in his beloved shackles that were always ready in his office.

He ran. You slowly pretended to continue your way, until he was gone, when you approached the wall the twins were hiding behind. -Bli-meey, he definitely added something special to his oatmeal this morning, he never lasts this long -said George to his brother -I expected him to snuff out halfway through! -added Fred -You lads owe me one. – you said smugly, crossing your arms over your chest -That we do, flower. – George said, smiling at you, showing off his dimples -Just say a word when you wanna break some rules – Fred winked at you, then grinned at his twin and the two walked away, as you forgot where you were going before that encounter.

October, 1994

October was passing quickly in huge amounts of work, as if all the teachers made some kind of pact to rob you of free time. George and Fred seemed more confident in their bantering with you, though.

Before you knew it, there was just a week left until Halloween. You were now in the entrance hall, in front of a sign Ron was reading out loud:

TRIWIZARD TOURNAMENT

The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving at 6 o’clock on Friday the 30th of October. Lessons will end half an hour early —

-Brilliant! - said Harry. -It’s Potions last thing on Friday! Snape won’t have time to poison us all!

Students will return their bags and books to their dormitories and assemble in front of the castle to greet our guests before the Welcoming Feast.

The following week, the faculty was getting more and more nervous. The castle was being thoroughly cleaned and everything was supposed to be perfect for the visit. When the time for the feast came, you and your friends arrived in the great hall, which was decorated beautifully overnight. Enormous silk banners hung from the walls, each of them representing a Hogwarts House: red with a gold lion for Gryffindor, blue with a bronze eagle for Ravenclaw, yellow with a black badger for Hufflepuff, and green with a silver serpent for Slytherin. Behind the teachers’ table, the largest banner of all bore the Hogwarts coat of arms: lion, eagle, badger, and snake united around a large letter H.

Before dinner, everyone headed to the Entrance Courtyard to greet the guests. Examining all the young witches and wizards from both schools you couldn’t help but feel slightly intimidated. But nonetheless, you were looking forward to the following months, when the events of the tournament were explained to you scrupulously.

The next day was Saturday, which would usually mean late breakfast for most, but not today. Students were huddled around the Goblet of Fire, placed in the centre of the entrance hall. You watched curiously to see who could become the Hogwarts champion.

George, Fred and Lee decided to try their luck with aging potion, all three taking a drop of it and clearly confident in their ability to survive win the tournament and split the prize.

When you saw George follow Fred and step over the age line to place his name in the goblet, your eyes narrowed down a bit. You were just about to contemplate, what if, when- Loud sizzling noise and the twins were thrown back, rocking long, white beards. You laughed at the sight, just as everyone else. But you also felt something else deep down, which you didn’t give a thought – relief.

November, 1994

November was weird for you. Harry was chosen to be Hogwarts’ champion along with Cedric Diggory, but Ron wouldn’t believe he hadn’t thrown his name in, so now your group of friends was split. You thought the whole conflict to be a tad ridiculous, but you found yourself alone with Harry more, who most of the school seemed to hate now.

You and Hermione helped him prepare for the first task of the tournament, once you learned what it would be. Thanks to Moody’s tip, you spent hours practicing the summoning charm. You grasped it faster than Harry, and you tried not to show that it worried you a bit.

The 24th finally arrived. You found a place for yourself in the wooden stands, fellow Gryffindors around you. George and Fred were doing rounds, taking bets. After it seemed they were finished, as the first contestant was about to walk out, they took an empty spot next to you. -Care to make a bet, young lady? – said Fred, leaning down a bit and wiggling his eyebrows at you. -Gambling, huh? – you said, smirking and looking between the boys -Sign me up. -Atta girl. -George said and opened their suitcase once again. You were thankful your cheeks had already been a bit pink from the November chill as you were taking out the money. -3 galleons for Ced, 2 for Harry. – you handed them the coins -just don’t tell him -You pretended to whisper but just loud enough that they could still hear you over the crowd.

At some point after the task had started you got a bit cold and decided to put on the warm scarf you packed in your bag just in case. In the tight crowd, you clumsily fumbled with the bag and the jacket, trying to wrap yourself up. You were about to attempt to hold the bag between your knees to avoid placing it on the floor, when a big hand reached out to you from your right. You looked up to see George silently offering his help. You smiled and said ‘thanks’ just above a whisper. Handing him the bag, his warm hand brushed your cold one for just a moment. You put the scarf on, took your bag back and resumed your spectating position, this time, just a bit more to the right.

December, 1994

At the beginning of the month, the Yule Ball was announced. For you, it meant hordes of boys asking you to be their date. Even ones you haven’t exchanged a word with before. Some of them you politely declined, some of them just got a short ‘no.’

Professor McGonagall took it upon herself to make sure students from the house of Godric Gryffindor knew what they were doing on the dance floor, and not behave like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons.

And so, you were all gathered in her classroom, cleared of all desks, boys on one side of the room and girls on the other. When she called Ron over to demonstrate, you couldn’t help but stifle your laughter at your friends awkwardness, when he was asked to grab her waist. Soon, she directed everyone to pair up and practice.

Just like always in these situations, you kind of stepped forward, trying not to be awkward and hide, but at the same time looked around the room a bit nervously – wondering who’d ask you, if you could afford to pick and choose or if anyone would come up to you at all.

Your eyes involuntarily found George Weasley across the room. But you didn’t expect him to also look in your direction. Neither did he, but he tried not to let it show. You weren’t able to predict, what he’d do next. You didn’t know what you wanted in that moment, either, as your thoughts seemed clouded. Whether it was for him to run over to you and sweep you off your feet or just leave you, in your nervous state, so he didn’t have to witness you like that. After all, it was unlike you. Y/N Y/L/N, the talk of the school.

You’d rather not think about what your facial expression looked like, when you saw his eyes on you, his lips slowly curling into a small, shy smile.

You were brought to the world of living by Dean Thomas who walked up with a kind smile, holding out his hand for you and asked you to dance. You liked Dean. He was nice, smart, tall and cute. You said yes and smiled charmingly. When you glanced at the spot where George stood previously, for just half a second, he wasn’t there anymore. You weren’t sure what you expected. Why would he? Besides, it was just George after all, right?

Dancing with Dean, there was some small talk about classes, a few jokes about poor dance skills, and before you knew it, Professor McGonagall thanked you all for your time and you were dismissed.

The group headed to the wide, wooden doors at the back. Dean still beside you, the two of you also making your way out. -You know who you’re going with, then? – he asked you. -To the ball, I mean. - You didn’t, to be fair. You assumed you’d be going with Matt. -No, not really – you replied, skipping the details. -So.. any chance you’d like to go with me?.. – asked Dean, smiling shyly and looking down at your face, bringing his hand to the back of his neck. You felt someone’s eyes on your back, or maybe you just imagined it. Shit. You didn’t expect that. You looked at the tall boy beside you, trying to hide your shock. In the corner of your eye, you see two tall gingers pass you by in the corridor. You liked Dean, you thought again. He was cute. -No.. sorry, mate… - you muttered, truly apologetic -Hope you find somebody nice, though – you offered him a wide, hopeful smile. -That’s alright. Had to try my luck, though – he said, nodding and grinning to you. He truly seemed to take it well. –See you around – he gave you a little wave, which you returned, and picked up his pace, losing you in the crowd. So you walked the rest of the way to your common room, in the black-and-red sea, making a little mental plan of the homework you were to do for the rest of the day.

A week later, you made your way to the library in the afternoon. You seized the moment when you were in a relatively good mood and decided it’s a good opportunity to work on some assignments, to maybe wrap them up before the Christmas break.

Walking through the library you were trying to find an optimal spot for your little session. When you picked one, you walked into the aisle and were about to sit down when you spotted George sitting in the opposite row, facing the bookcase, away from you.

He didn’t see you, as he was bent over a book, his hand supporting his head and holding hair out of his face, elbow propped on the desk. He held a quill in his other hand and seemed – focused? Maybe just a little distressed. You caught yourself staring but you couldn’t blame yourself – you don’t see a Weasley twin working in the library often. In fact, you rarely see them separately.

You looked around, stepped back and forth awkwardly for a bit, unsure what to do. You heard him mutter a few curse words to himself and have to hold back a chuckle. You debated just sitting down and just getting to your work, but you take a few careful steps to try and look through his shoulder aand-

Defence Against the Dark Arts. What sometimes seemed to be the only thing you were good at – Merlin had your back. You decided to take your chance, your own schoolwork be damned. You walk up, lean on the desk next to him- -You come here often? – was not what was supposed to come out of your mouth, but it did, before you could think it through. Merlin would surely be proud of the bunch of curses you directed at yourself in your thoughts. What was wrong with you?!

George was looking up at you with wide eyes but amused smile.

-Eh, erm.. you need any help with that? – you tried to save yourself, gesturing at his parchment -I’m pretty good at DADA, ahead of my year, actually… - you continued, looking down, because if you kept looking into those warm, brown eyes, you’d surely be finished. -Uh, yeah, sure – he answered, chuckling slightly -I mean, I could use the help -He straightened up and shifted slightly as you grabbed the back of the chair next to him. -I don’t come here often… -he said under his breath with a cheeky smile.

After you settled into the seat next to him, surprisingly, the both of you relaxed pretty quickly. Even if you suspected it had been the first time the two of you properly talked alone. It was nice, your banter was natural and you actually managed to help him with the assignment, your own ones long forgotten.

-Thanks, Y/N, I really appreciate it. I’d probably rot in here, trying to do it myself, or just give up – he said and rolled his eyes, packing up his things and you were getting up. -No problem, really. I know how often you just need someone to put it in different words and everything starts to click. – you paused for a moment -I’ll see you around, George. – you started to slowly to walk away -Yeah, see you.. -he had packed his things already, and was looking at your back, retreating- -Hey, Y/N? – you stopped and turned back, looking at him curiously, your eyes telling him you were listening. -D’you have a date to the ball? – he asked, not believing his own words. Matt still hasn’t asked you. You suspected why, after you and Eric went a little far with your teasing when you hung out the other day, he got a little salty. But you knew he’d get over it, it wasn’t really serious, and there was still almost two weeks to the ball. -Noo.. -your tone almost saying ‘go on’. -Fancy going with me? – he asked looking into your eyes expectantly, but his voice was soft, and if we weren’t talking about George Weasley here, you’d say shy. You really had set your mind on going with Matt, Georges question was really surprising. You were not aware that was the case for the both of you. You’d never expect that. Yet the idea was interesting. You knew you’d have fun with him. -Yes – you smiled sweetly and bit your lower lip a bit, standing small in front of him He let out a breath, grinned at you and nodded too, looking away -Yeah, cool.. wicked.. – the last part almost inaudible.

Part 3

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter imagine #x reader

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blue-angel-wings · 4 years

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Halloween with Angel.

Word count: 1,468

Characters: Angel Reyes x reader (Y/N), Gilly Lopez, Coco Cruz, Leticia Cruz.

Warnings: Cursing, Halloween (? Idk some people don’t like it 🤷‍♀️)

It was nearing Halloween, and whilst all your neighbours had started to decorate their homes and front lawns, yours was bare and depressing, due to no fault of your own. Your boyfriend Angel had made it clear that the decorations in the house you to shared were perfectly fine and served their purpose but Christ they were depressing.

The decorations were disgusting collecting dust and growing mould from being thrown randomly in the attic and you were struggling to tell the difference between the real and fake spiders. But Angel had yet to grant you the permission to buy new decorations. Not that you need explicit permission but you viewed you and Angel as a team so you made decisions like these together. Sadly.

You and Angel had lived together for years at this point so you got used to each other’s ways and quirks, so really Angel should’ve been prepared for your enthusiasm for the holiday.

“Knock, knock and I’m already in.” Said your brother whilst you were sat a the table eating breakfast. Angel had gone for shower a few minutes ago so the house was quiet apart from the quiet sound of the water running.

“Hey Y/B/N, you okay?” You rounded the corner of the island to see your brother with your niece wearing a cute little pumpkin onesie.

“And hello to you too precious girl!” You cooed to the young baby currently yanking on your hoop earrings. You tickled her tummy just to hear her giggles whilst your brother babbled on about work. Obviously hearing the adorable shriek of laughter from your niece, Angel entered the kitchen and snatched her from your arms to have his fill of the baby cuteness. Begrudgingly you turn to brother to now pay attention to his words.

“So I was wondering if you remember where it is that Mama always took us for Halloween so we could go to the ‘kid friendly’ haunted house.” He said making air quotations when saying kid friendly. He stole a piece of bacon whilst you took your mind back to time when you were younger.

“Yeah she just took us to the garden centre, god knows if they still do it, people always complained it was a bit scary.” you reminded him, whilst continuing your breakfast.

“So you wanna go, think it would be a bit of fun, take us back to our childhood and pass on the tradition to Mia.” Your bother spoke whilst removing Mia from Angel’s arms, she fussed a little but settled quickly.

“Yes! I can get new decorations for the house, they have the best decorations!” You bolted out of the chair heading to door before Angel spoke up. “ No! We don’t need decorations we have them here.”

“But Angel-“

“No babe I’m putting my foot down, please it’s a waste of money, just don’t. You’ll spend more time putting them up and taking them back down than them actually be img on display!”

“Ooh he’s putting his foot down.” Your brother mocked, provoking Angel to throw the tea towel at him.

“Fine I won’t bring home any new decorations.”

“Thank you, I love you baby.” Angel spoke kissing your forehead and leaving to speak with the guys about an incoming run.

You stuck to your word, and didn’t return with any decorations, that’s because you ordered them to arrive to your home a few days later. This was for multiple reasons, 1) you couldn’t fit them all in your car and Angel would flip his shit if he saw you carry what is seemingly the whole store and 2) You knew Angel was going on a run so you order it to come whilst he was out. It was perfect because by the time it all up and looking pretty it would be too late. What can you say, you always get your way.

The day arrived and you were buzzing, it was time to get your spooky season started. You woke up alone in bed which wasn’t strange, as Angel was due to be on a run. It wasn’t until you heard yelling and swearing in the living room did you discover that was not the case. Walking out you were greeted with site of your boyfriend and his 2 extra shadows Gilly, sat at the table eating your food, and Coco sat next to Angel playing PlayStation.

“What are you doing here?” You exclaimed from shock.

“Uhh I live here-“

“I’ve been paying the bills with you for the past 2 years.”

When you don’t respond to the comment and continue to stare at him confused.

He points to his chest stating, “I am Angel” condescendingly thinking it’s funny.

“You’re supposed to be on a run.”

“It was only a small run,we weren’t needed.” He said shrugging like it was nothing when I’m reality it was huge.

“Damn Y/N you ain’t happy to see us?” Coco asks standing to hug you, you accept the embrace with a smile but on the inside you are screaming, why did he have to be here when you don’t need him to be but gone when you did need him?

A few hours into the day and they were still here and your delivery when due to arrive imminently.

“Don’t you want to go to the clubhouse I mean it’s more fun there, I mean you spend every waking second of your days there anyway why not go there now.” You exclaimed getting antsy.

“Nah we’re good.” Coco replied, you roll your eyes and spin on your heel to go to the kitchen and watch for your delivery of doom to pull up. “Why you trynna to get rid of us sweetheart?” Gilly asked jokingly, startling you in the process. “The other day I went to the store with my brother and bought way to many Halloween decorations when he specifically told me to not to and I thought by having them delivered whilst he was on his run, it’d be too late for him to do anything about it but now I know he isn’t on a run that planned it fucked.” You confessed. “Well damn baby you in shit now.” “Gilly” you whined palming his chest softly.

“Okay stop I’ll get him out and tell Coco to call Leti to come and help you put them up. Don’t stressed your pretty head!” He said tapping your temple.

“Thank you Gilly you are a lifesaver!”

“I know baby, it’s a gift.” He joked shrugging his shoulders like it was nothing.

Gilly stuck to his word and got them out the house, just before the delivery turned up. Coco had indeed called Leti to help you but you guys spent more time gossiping than actually hanging anything.

“ I think you may have gone a little too far with this.” She said holding a 7ft robotic witch on your porch swing as you cable tied it’s ankles to the structure of your porch, so the kids didn’t steal it.

“Oh shush you’re as bad as Angel, it looks great so don’t complain, it was worth all the time it spent to put it up and the ...$300 it actually cost.” You muttered the last bit hoping she didn’t pick it up.

“ Y/N, holy sh-“ she was cut off by the roar of bikes coming down the street, announcing the arrival of your man and his brothers.

You braced yourself for the backlash but when you turned around to man your man he had nothing but a smile on his face, Coco and Gilly hung back on the bikes whilst Angel took in the scene.

“Baby-“ you started.

“I like it.”

“What?”

“I knew you couldn’t resist the decorations at the store and when you came back home empty handed I was shocked, then earlier when you wanted us out I knew you had this arriving.” He exclaimed gesturing the house covered in fake cobwebs and pumpkins, and obviously the freaky witch on the porch. You breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him with total adoration.

“ I love you Angel, thank you for understanding but your lazy ass coulda helped if you knew.” You complained cuddling into his side. He chuckled lowly. The moment was ruined by a scream and then followed by a gunshot. You ducked into Angel from the fear.

“You scary motherfucker, jump at me and imma shoot yo’ ass! Do it again hoe and see what happens.” Coco shouted with gun pointed at the witch.

“What the fuck Coco it’s not real.” You pointed to the now ruined witch.

Coco stepped forward gingerly, gun still cocked, inspecting the witch, confirming with a slight nod of the head that it was in fact a robot.

“My bad” He shrugged.

Taglist: @mayans-sauce.

#mayans mc #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #coco cruz #gilly lopez #leticia cruz #my fics

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years

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Survey #306

i’m v talkative today so pardon my jabbering below.

What is the strangest type of candy you have eaten? I think I've had one of those lollipops with a bug in it before as a kid? I don't remember. What would be your most ideal profession? A freelance photographer. But I'm honestly starting to lose hope. Have you tried those coloring books for adults? Yeah; it's funny you mention 'em, 'cuz a family friend got me one for my birthday earlier this month. What is a topic you definitely don't want to talk about with anyone? I don't like talking about my sexual history, doesn't matter who you are. It's just uncomfortable. What was your first gaming console? An Atari. Is there something you're eagerly waiting for? What is it? *SLAMS FISTS ON TABLE* MAY NEEDS TO FUCKIN' HURRY. My tattoo appointment is set then. :''') Do you/have you ever belonged to an organization? If so, which one? I was a Girl Scout when I was young. What is something you're very passionate about? Nature conservation, gay rights (equal rights in general, really), the pro-choice movement, and then there are less "important" things like certain hobbies interests and such. I'm sure there are more big ones that are just slipping my mind right now, considering I feel passionately for a shitload of stuff. What are you studying or what was the last thing you studied? I majored in Art & Design with a focus on Photography in college. But guess who dropped out. What was the last present you gave someone? I don't know... I mention enough that I don't have a source of income where I can really buy anything. I think the last thing I did was a Christmas gift for Mom a year or two back of a drawing I did of our late dog Cali, whom she absolutely adored. Do you enjoy plays? If so, what was the latest one you saw? Not really, no. What was the last thing you achieved? PHP has helped me focus on little victories, so prepare for an underwhelming answer haha, but it's something. I Facebook messaged an old friend I really wanted to catch up with, and everyone in group cheered for me. :') It was really heartwarming. What a shocker that this program is really helping me once again. What is something you would like to achieve at some point in your life? I would love love love to take at least one "famous" or award-winning photograph. It'd be such amazing validation that I'm talented at something I love so much. What is one philosophy you have regarding life/living/purpose? That's... difficult to answer seeing as I'm trying desperately to find my purpose. I do try to live by this old quote a therapist said once: "Deal with life, or life deals with you." I think it holds an incredible amount of depth and meaning in such a short phrase. How would you design the inside of your own home? I don't know the details of it, really, besides that shit is gonna look like a Halloween house year-round. I can imagine wanting black furniture, too, and having loooots of decor expressive of what I love and find comfort in. Gotta make a house feel like a home just for me. What is a band you remember liking from your childhood? Backstreet Boys, duh. Do you ever get mad at people for not having the same opinion as you (i.e. abortion being wrong/right, meat-eating being wrong/right)? Two things: it depends on the topic, and "get mad" is the wrong term for what I feel. It's more disgust; ex., I'm repulsed by anti-gay rights people and want absolutely nothing to do with 'em, but I'm not like, mad at them. Do you edit any of your pictures? In what ways? Oh yeah, and it definitely depends on the raw photograph. I edit depending on the mood it emanates; like if you've seen my roadkill photography versus nature shots, there is an extremely distinct difference in editing style and vibe. I'd say in general though, I tend to like to brighten my photographs and add more vibrance. If you like to take pictures, what is your motivation? God, I could write an essay on this. I just love and am so thankful for the fact we can literally freeze time forever with the click of a button and look back on fantastic sights, beautiful moments, memories... It's just magical to me, and I adore contributing to that art. Would you ever consider living anywhere cold? Well yeah, that's my preference, actually. What is your absolute favorite food? The spicy shrimp fritas from Olive Garden, jfc. Would you ever wear snake-skin pants, or other animal clothing? Fuck to the absolute hell no. What foreign country would you like to go to for a shopping spree? Idk, considering I'm not well-versed in the artistic creations of other countries. Perhaps India? Japan? I dunno. If you met your favorite musician, what would you ask him/her? I'm asking for his fucking autograph and a hug while I smile my face in two AND cry lmao. What do you spend most of your day thinking about? I ain't gonna bullshit nobody, my PTSD. In some way or another, he's lurking in that head of mine through memories, flashbacks, wonders of what could have gone differently... but thank God it's no longer in the forefront of my mind after my first PHP. I've come very, very far, but especially when trying to blank out my mind to fall asleep, parts of PTSD strangle my brain until I'm just finally out. I really hope that changes someday. Where is a busy place you would like to go to? Yikes, nowhere, really. I like to avoid busy locations. Do you think video games cause people to become violent? Absolutely not. You are responsible for the decisions you make; music, games, movies, etc. have no deciding voice in stupid shit you do, and it's bullshit that people blame art and entertainment for such things. Vocabulary: What was the last word you learned? I'm unsure. Have you or could you build your own site? Absolutely not from scratch. The closest I've gotten to that is my photography website, but it was through the assistance of Wix. What's the best thing you can cook yourself? Scrambled eggs, haha. I do make some bomb eggs at least. Are there a lot of graffiti around your neighborhood? No. Do you have a hobby that forces you out of the house? If so, what is it? Nature photography. Would you stop eating meat, if you had to raise and slaughter it yourself? Absolutely. God, I want to go vegetarian again... Besides English, what other languages can you speak? I can speak a very little bit of German. Took four semesters of it in high school and became very good at it, but lack of practice has pretty much ruined that. Besides English, what other languages can you read? I can read German well; as in, I can pronounce most words I see, but that doesn't mean I understand what is written. Do you think you could make it as a chef? Gordon Ramsey would deadass kick me off his show on day one, lmao. What's your favorite kind of tea? It marvels me JUST how many tea and coffee questions are in surveys. Anyway, I don't like tea. I am an embarrassment to NC culture. What thing/person/happening has made you the happiest you've been? lask;dfjal;wekrjwe What's the most freeing thing you've ever done? Stealing my happiness back from someone who had no right to hold it all in its entirety. That shit's mine. Do you think today's kids are really impatient? Most, probably, but in some ways I can understand it - at least, in the sense that with the assistance of modern technology and advancements in satiating our wants so quickly, kids just expect it. I definitely believe that patience is something to try to be deeply instilled in everyone, though. I don't have an ounce of it (in most situations) and wish I did. Have you ever tasted birch sap? No. How about the young buds/shoots of spruce trees? No. Which edible flowers have you tasted? One of my favorite Southern experiences is finding a bunch of honeysuckles and tasting the honey (is it technically even honey??). Tastes amazing. My family's hairdresser lives down a beautiful path that sprouts a massive amount of them, and as kids, my sisters and her two boys would go tasting them while our parents talked for so long, or if we were waiting our turn. Good memories. What has been your worst restaurant experience? I'm not sure, really. What's the most immature, adolescent thing that still makes you laugh? "Inappropriate humor type jokes." <<<< They can get me sometimes, too. Have you ever had a life-threatening condition? If so, what was it? No, thankfully. Have you ever had a custom print done on a shirt? If so, what was it? I don't believe so, no. Besides making a tye-dye one in HS with our school colors. Wasn't my idea and never wore it, haha. Do you ever read other people's survey answers? It depends on the person. If it's a friend, absolutely, because I love learning usually obscure things about them I wouldn't have known otherwise. If it's a user I don't know from wherever I got the survey, sometimes, depending on how short the answer is and my eyes kinda just scroll over it. Do you like daytime or night time better? Why? Daytime, especially mornings. I'm generally happier when there's light around. What's your highest level of education so far? Some college. Describe your ordinary day: My average day is embarrassingly uneventful. It's sitting on the laptop doing shit on various sites, none of which are actually important, and playing WoW, which is also without true substance, save for social interactions with my friends on there. I spray Venus' terrarium everyday multiple times as well to keep the humidity up, and obviously eat and handle that kinda bodily needs stuff. Would you ever have a UV tattoo? Ugh, that'd be so dope. I've seen some awesome ones, but idk if I'd get one, considering when am I actually going to be under UV light?? Like I wanna be able to see my tat. What is the brand and color name of your favorite lipstick? I have one black lipstick, but it comes right off so I don't even like it. I only ever put it on to take pictures. What do you like on your tortilla? Just ham and cheese. How about inside your pita bread? I've never had pita bread, actually. What do you like in your burger? It depends on where I'm getting the burger. My basic is cheese, ketchup, mustard, a bit of mayo, pickles, and a light sprinkle of diced onion, but sometimes I add bacon and take away the onions. How about on your pizza? I have three I tend to pick from: pepperoni, jalapeno, or meat lovers. Do you work better alone or in a group? Alone, definitely. Which body part would you not mind losing? I'ma be extremely honest, with just how horribly weak my legs are, I could live without them, I guess. Not saying I want to by any means, it's just exhausting using them. Ideally, I'd take away something minor, like a finger or something. What common saying people use is absolute BS to you? “'Everything happens for a reason.'” <<<< Fuckin' colossal "same." I won't rag on people who believe it, especially if it gives you courage to keep moving forward, but I don't believe it in the slightest. If it were so, I'd like to talk to whoever is in control of those "reasons," please. What is the most interesting thing you’ve read or seen this week? I had no idea elephants were pregnant for two years, like holy shit, can you imagine. It was in an article I saw on Facebook about a mother and daughter elephant who are both expecting and doing well. Wonderful to hear. What’s the most useless talent you have? Ha, I'm a master in the arts of catastrophizing and jumping to conclusions involving people hating me in one way or another. What’s something everyone looks stupid doing? I'm one of those people who hate dabbing done by anybody, like you look like you're just smelling your armpit. Which kids’ movie scarred you for life? I wouldn't say "scarred me for life" by any means, but when I was little, I was terrified of the Wicked Witch from The Wizard of Oz and even had nightmares about her. It sucked because my little sister was obsessed with that movie, haha. In one sentence, how would you sum up the Internet? A source of incredible knowledge but also hate and misinformation. What would be the most ridiculous thing for the government to make illegal? I literally dread the idea of Roe vs. Wade being reversed. Banning abortion would kill so many people with operational uteruses and cause absolute pandemonium. How many friends do you have on social media and how many of them do you know for real? On Facebook, I have 124 friends, and I'd say I know most of them "in real life." However, having been on the Internet since I was so young and befriending loads of incredible people, a good chunk are "online friends." Hell, I'm more interested in their lives than most "real" ones. Long-distance friendships are so valid. What fact amazes you every time you think of it? Lots of things, generally regarding the stupidity of humanity. What’s the most spontaneous thing you’ve ever done? Probably going to the beach w/ my old friend Colleen. We had zero plans of doing it, but she just called me one morning and asked if I wanted to go, and off we went. It was a fun day. What has taken up too much of your life? I'ma be real, WoW. I don't think I'm addicted to it like I once was seeing as I go through spans where I barely want to play it at all and don't, so I truly am capable of not playing it, but rather it's just the most entertaining way to kill time in my life. I just don't like how much time I've invested into a game over six or seven years regardless. Where do you not mind waiting? Uh, nowhere lmao. Is there an app you hate to use, but still use every day? No; why would I use it if that was the case? Who is the funniest person you know? My friend Girt is fucking hysterical. What three words describe you best? Complex, passionate, and creative. What makes you think you’re smart? Lol who says I think I'm smart? Who inspires you? Korean Jesus. Okay on a serious note, not just him, of course, but he's #1 in an entire universe of ways. Do you aspire to be like somebody else? If so, who? No; I want to be my own authentic self. How did you meet your best friend? YouTube, back when it had more social aspects. Which one of your accomplishments are you the most proud of? I want to say my recovery, but like... I wonder a lot if it's "enough" to be proud of with how scarred I still am? I still struggle with a lot and feel like I could be so much better by now if I tried harder. If I'm completely honest with myself, I think it's finishing high school in the top percentile of my graduating class. There was a ceremony for the handful of us and all, and I cherish my plaque probably too much. Reminds me of a time when I knew what the fuck I was doing. What's the strangest thing you ever did as a child? Thinking I had "animal powers" where I could invoke the traits of certain animals at will, like what the actual fuck, Brittany. What did your mother teach you? Christ, a lot. Dad didn't do a lot of the raising, honestly, so much of my core values and whatnot were instilled by my mother. She taught me to care for and be nice to others, respect myself, try my best in everything, and most importantly that she is always there for me and my sisters no matter what and can tell her absolutely anything. She was very serious about us going to college and saving sex for marriage when we were younger, but she diverged from those ideas as absolutely necessary with experience. I'm extremely lucky with who I call my mom, overall. What did your father teach you? Eek... Read above. Not a lot as a kid (save for riding a bike and playing softball); most he's taught me has come following reuniting with him after my parents' divorce. I remember we went to lunch once and talked about my breakup, and he talked to me about sometimes, you just have to let people go in order to be happy, like with him and Mom. He's very serious now about ensuring us girls know that he is always there for us and will help us in any way he's capable. What makes you feel powerful? "Powerful" isn't something I really feel, if I'm being real. What are you ready to let go? It would be inexplicably fantastic if I could let every speck of Jason go in both my head and heart. What is your most bizarre deal-breaker? I don't really find any of my expectations and limits as "bizarre?" They're all valid to me. Well wait, idk if you'd find it strange that I absofuckinglutely would not date someone who hunts, but it's not to me. That's a difference in a very serious value to me. Would you rather be hated or forgotten? Hated. God, I don't want to leave this earth having given just nothing. I can live with some people hating me for whatever reason. What’s the biggest personal change you’ve made? Accepting my bisexuality, probably. That's something that I consider pretty big for two reasons: 1.) I could end up with a woman forever, and especially 2.) I was originally homophobic. I still have difficulty in fathoming how I ever was. What are some of your short-term goals? PHP is finally starting to make me build these again. I want to get better at selfcare, draw, write, and read more, I want to drink a lot more water, exercise way more... Lots of things, really. What is the weirdest thing about you? Uh. I dunno. Probably that I RP meerkats, which is a very obscure RP niche for sure.

#survey #surveys #questions

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btsqualityy · 5 years

Text

BTS Toddler Series #24: Halloween

Kim Seokjin

“Hi guys!” Hobi exclaimed as he opened the front door to his house.

“Hi Hobi-ah,” Jin smiled.

“Oh, that’s such a nice costume Kade,” Hobi said as he ran his hand over the top of Kaiden’s head.

“Someone really wanted to be a cowboy this year,” you chuckled. Hobi stepped back from the door, giving the three of you room to walk inside where you saw the other members, their wives, and a few other friends talking. All of their kids were running around the house, squealing and laughing loudly.

“Do you wanna go and play with the other kids Kade?” You asked him, and you frowned slightly when he shook his head and grabbed ahold of your jeans.

“Are you sure Chinny?” Jin wondered and Kaiden nodded silently. Knowing that the large amount of people was all that was making him nervous, you decided to let him stay with you for a while until he became more comfortable.

“Hey guys!” Jimin greeted as the three of you walked over to the table where him, Jungkook, and Namjoon were sitting.

“Hi Jimin,” you smiled.

“Oh, I love your costume Kade!” Jungkook exclaimed, making Kaiden smile softly.

“Why aren’t you playing with the others?” Namjoon questioned.

“Too scared,” Kaiden whispered back, making Namjoon nod in understanding.

“Mason!” Namjoon shouted suddenly, and Mason came bounding over to the table at hearing his father call for him. “Kade is feeling a little nervous so why don’t you play with him and help him feel better?”

“Ok!” Mason nodded rapidly, stepping over to Kaiden and grabbing ahold of his hand. “Come play with me Kade.”

“Scared,” Kaiden said as he shook his head.

“It’s ok,” Mason promised. “Lenny and Noah are over there too.” Kaiden sighed before looking over to where Lennox and Noah were playing together.

“Oh, ok,” Kaiden relented and you and Jin both smiled as you watched Mason lead Kaiden over to the other boys.

Min Yoongi

“Oh, you look so pretty sweetheart,” you gushed, helping Kinsley fix the hem of her princess dress.

“Pretty princess,” she giggled and you nodded in agreement. “Show daddy?”

“Just a second, you have to have your tiara,” you smiled as you set it on top of her head, taking a second to make sure that it would stay secure in her hair.

“Now I show Daddy?” She asked again and you chuckled.

“Go ahead Kins,” you relented and you followed her as she quickly walked out of her bedroom and down the hall to your and Yoongi’s bedroom.

“Look Daddy,” she squealed and Yoongi looked up from his IPad, gasping when he took in the sight of his daughter.

“You look so beautiful baby girl,” he grinned as he set down the IPad and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He took his hands and set them on her cheeks, squishing them together gently. “My baby girl isn’t a baby anymore, huh?”

“Daddy, stop,” she giggled, bringing her hands up to try and pull Yoongi’s off of her face.

“Kins, why don’t you go get your basket for your candy?” You suggested and she nodded before walking out of your bedroom.

“Is it over dramatic that I want to cry at how grown up she looks?” Yoongi asked as you walked over and sat down next to him on the bed.

“Nope, because I feel the same way,” you laughed. “I’m still surprised that she even chose the princess costume in the first place.”

“Well, even though she looks amazing, I hate it,” Yoongi grumbled, making you laugh before you leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Kim Namjoon

“Ready to find a costume Mase?” Namjoon asked him as the two of them stepped into the Halloween store that was full to the brim with costumes, decorations, and everything in between.

“Yeah!” He exclaimed, making Namjoon laugh. The two of them walked over to the aisles that housed the costumes and Namjoon led Mason down the one that held the toddler costumes.

“What do you think of this one Mase?” Namjoon asked as he pointed to a Superman costume.

“Don’t like it,” Mason said as he shook his head.

“You love superheros though,” Namjoon pouted slightly before putting the outfit back on the rack. Namjoon then continued to rake his eyes over the costumes, a soft gasp escaping him as he picked up another one.

“What about this one?” He wondered as he held up a shark costume.

“Wore that before Daddy,” Mason huffed, and Namjoon sighed heavily at the fact that Mason even remembered that. He put the outfit back and the two of them continued to slowly walk down the aisle.

“Oh Daddy,” Mason exclaimed as he ran to the opposite side of the aisle, pulling on a costume to get it down off of the rack.

“Whoa, hold on Mase,” Namjoon chuckled as he walked over to him, picking up the costume and removing it from the rack. He held it out at arm’s length and couldn’t help but to laugh when he saw it.

“You want this one?” Namjoon questioned as he pointed to the astronaut costume with his free hand.

“Yeah,” Mason nodded. “Like Daddy’s from on stage.” Namjoon grinned widely at how Mason remembered his MAMA outfit for Anpanman.

“Well, I guess we’re getting this one then,” he announced, making Mason cheer loudly.

Jung Hoseok

“Wait Berk,” You giggled as you watched Berkeley try and take the top off of the pumpkin with her bare hands. Since it was October, you and Hobi had decided to get the twins their own pumpkins and let them carve them however they wanted to.

“Won’t come off,” Berkeley grumbled and Hobi laughed before grabbing the knife and showing it to her.

“That’s because I have to use the knife to get it off for you,” he explained and she nodded slowly. You then turned to Lennox, who was sitting on his knees and concentrating really hard as he drew on his pumpkin.

“Are you sure that’s where you want me to cut it out Len?” You asked him and he nodded rapidly.

“Yeah. See?” He said as he pointed to a triangle that he had drawn. “That’s the eye.”

“Alright,” you chuckled, realizing how hard it would be for you and Hobi to cut out the weird shapes that they had both drawn on their respective pumpkins. Once the twins had deemed their art work satisfactory, you and Hobi literally ended up spending a half hour carving them accordingly.

“Ok, all done kiddos,” Hobi announced with a clap of his hands.

“Lights now?” Berkeley asked and you nodded as you grabbed two small candles.

“Here, you can put them inside,” you said as you handed one to each of them. You watched as they both set their candle into their pumpkins and Hobi proceeded to light the candles for them.

“What do you think guys?” You wondered.

“It’s pretty,” Berkeley smiled.

“Yeah and cool!” Lennox added with a squeal, making you and Hobi laugh.

Park Jimin

“Daddy, Daddy!” Noah yelled as he ran into your and Jimin’s bedroom.

“Whoa whoa, mini me,” Jimin chuckled as he caught Noah in his arms, chuckling when he saw that his son was covered in toilet paper.

“Noah!” You shouted, jogging into your bedroom after him and smiling when you saw him in Jimin’s arms.

“What are you two up to?” Jimin asked as he looked over at you.

“Noah decided that he wanted to be a mummy for Halloween but while I was wrapping him up in toilet paper, he got the bright idea to come and try to scare you,” you explained.

“You’d try and scare your Daddy mini me?” Jimin fake gasped as he let Noah slide down his body back onto the ground.

“Argh!” Noah roared softly, holding his hands out like a mummy and pawing at Jimin’s legs.

“Oh no jagi! It’s the Noah monster!” Jimin screamed, running out of the room and Noah quickly chased after him.

“Can you at least let me finish wrapping you up, Mr. Scary Mummy?” You shouted after them, speed walking out of the bedroom in order to catch up to them.

Kim Taehyung

“Mommy, look,” Spencer cheered as you, her, and Taehyung walked into the field of pumpkins. Since this was the first Halloween that Spencer could really participate in and remember, you and Taehyung wanted to give her the best experience possible and what better way to start than letting her pick out her own pumpkin?

“I see,” you chuckled as you let her pull you further into the field. “Why don’t you go pick one out?”

“Any one?” She asked.

“Any one,” Taehyung nodded. “And then we can take it home after we buy it and make it pretty.”

“Ok,” she chirped before letting go of both your and Taehyung’s hands before walking off to inspect the pumpkins.

“Has she given you any idea as to what she wants her costume to be this year?” You questioned as you looked over at Taehyung.

“She said that she wanted to be TaTa,” Tae said with a laugh.

“Wait, are you serious?”

“Yeah, but I’m still not sure if she was or not,” he shrugged. “You know that our kid is a little weird sometimes.”

“Just like her father,” you mumbled with a snort.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” you smiled and before Tae could question you any further, you both heard Spencer calling for him.

“Daddy! Help!” She said as she attempted to lift up a huge pumpkin on her own.

“Leave it to her to choose the biggest pumpkin out here,” Tae grumbled before jogging over to help her.

Jeon Jungkook

“Jeon Jungkook, you cannot be serious right now!” You hissed as you watched him wipe the water from the front of his face.

“Why are you so mad at me?” Jungkook huffed as he looked at you. “I was just playing with the kids.”

“Kook, the bobbing for apples game was supposed to be an easy way for the kids to win some prizes,” you explained. “It wasn’t an opportunity for the Golden Maknae to come in and win every damn round.”

“Those kids just weren’t trying hard enough,” he shrugged and your eyes widened.

“Those are your nieces and nephews over there, you know,” you chuckled. “And it’s moments like these that make me wonder what the hell I saw in you sometimes.”

“It was my big di-,”

“Hi Ave!” You said loudly, alerting Jungkook to her presence as she walked up to the both of you. “Are you having fun?”

“Yeah, a lot of fun,” she smiled as she nodded her head. “Daddy, you come play bob game again?”

“You want me to play again Angel?” He asked.

“Yeah, we all do,” she said as she pointed over to the small bins that were still full of water, and the other members’ children were all standing around waiting.

“I’ll be right there Angel,” Jungkook promised and Ava grinned widely before walking back over to the other kids. “So, what was that you were saying?”

“Just because they enjoy seeing you make a fool out of yourself doesn’t mean that it’s fair,” you pointed out with a smirk.

“You can really cut me deep sometimes, you know that?” Jungkook pouted, shaking his head so that the water from his still wet fringe flew onto your skin.

“Kook,” you groaned loudly.

“I love you,” he said, quickly pressing a kiss to your lips before walking back over to the kids.

“Love you too, you idiot,” you smiled softly.

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spookysweet-heart · 5 years

Text

A Spooky Night With You

Request: “You're like my new writing hero. Maybe planning/spending Halloween with Lydia, please? Like, if you'll do matching costumes and what they are, what you'll do together the night of (movie night, party, school dance, whatever you think would work for you best honestly), things like that? Preferably for a female reader?”

Pairings: Lydia Deetz x Fem!Reader

Fandom: Beetlejuice! The Musical!

Warnings: None

A/n: Let’s kick off this spooky season on this blog with something scary(ish), something sweet, and pretty gay. Hope you all like it! (Collage was made by me!)

“(Y/n), C’mon we’re gonna be late!” Lydia shouted up to your bedroom window.

Popping your head out your window you looked down at your girlfriend and waved off her concern. “I just need to get my bag and I’ll be right down!!”

Ducking back into your room you double-check your face paint one more time and grab your bag rushing down the staircase. Giving your parents a quick wave goodbye you bolt right out the door smiling wide when you look over at Lydia wearing her black and white outfit and matching Skull make up. She decided to do her whole face while you only did half of yours.

Lydia held up her finger, as you got closer to her you held up yours and intwined your fingers together like a pinkie promise. Smiling at each other you couldn’t help but giggle at how silly the act was, You couldn’t help it either since you two agreed to do that instead of actually giving each other kisses while you both were wearing facepaint.

Taking her hand in yours you two started to walk to school. It was pretty fun walking by the little kids when they would look over at the two of you with amazement and sometimes terror in their eyes.

Once getting into the school you two looked around at everyone’s costumes and complimented some of them while getting compliments on your own.

The day went on as usual and nothing out of the ordinary. So it was pretty nice to just see everyone being spooky and having fun. Especially Lydia, You know Halloween is her favorite Holiday and seeing her light up at everything creepy and spooky was so cute since it was rare the rest of the year.

At the end of the day, you were hanging around Lydia’s locker when someone came up to the two of you. “Hey, are two going to Amys Halloween party tonight?”

Lydia smiled and shook her head. “No, we’re gonna be giving out candy at my house.”

“Your house? Isn’t it haunted? Are sure any kids would show up?”

“I’m pretty sure they will, kids love all spooky things so why not get a thrill of going to an actual haunted house?”

“That’s true...maybe we’ll stop by before to party for a bit if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. We’ll see you later then.”

You both waved goodbye to them as they did the same while walking out of school.

You look over at Lydia and raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you really sure it’s okay for them to stop by? I thought you never wanted anyone else from school at your house?”

“It’s Halloween, might as well let Beej have some fun too right?” Lydia gave you a knowing smile and took your hand leading you out of the school, and on the path to her place.

---------

Setting up the two huge bowls of candy on the two chairs on Lydia’s porch, you were quick to slap Beetlejuice’s hand away from the bowls. “Why do you want any of the candy? You can’t even eat it anyway.”

“Just because I can’t really eat doesn’t mean I can’t taste it (Y/n).” Beetlejuice placed his hand on his hips trying to intimidate you.

“Yeah, no. why did you want the candy?”

“...I wanted to chuck it at the kids nearby.”

You sighed and shook your head. “You can do that with the last of the candy at the end of the night, not in the beginning.”

“Fiiine.” BJ grumbled and floated back into the house passing Lydia as she was walking out.

“Is he still bummed about not being able to do anything till it’s actually nightfall?” She looked over at you while you fix one of the scarecrows.

“Yeah, but you told him about the plan right?”

“Of course, He’s just excited and bummed cause he wants to start now.” Lydia giggled and sat on one of the chairs.

“Should’ve seen him right now. He wanted some of the candy just so he can throw it at some of the kids nearby.”

Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head before smiling at all the decorations. “It looks great out here.”

You smiled as you got the scarecrow to stand upright on its own. “How are Adam and Barbara?” You smiled over at Lydia and took a seat next to her.

“They’re doing great, they’re decorating the attic and keeping an eye out for kids so we can be ready.”

“So what did you tell Beej to do when the group comes?”

“I told him to go wild if there are no kids around.” You smiled getting excited to see what will happen later.

Hearing the attic window open you and Lydia looked up to see Adam smiling and waving. You both waved back and he shouted down, “There's kids coming! They’re rounding the corner now!”

“Thanks, Adam!!” Lydia yelled back and grabbed her candy bowl getting ready.

----------

The night went one without a hitch, passing out candy and taking a few pictures with the kids that also had skull costumes.

Most of the candy was gone and it was getting pretty dark. You walked into the house and got your sweaters giving Lydia hers as you sat back down outside with her.

Barbara poked her head out the window smiling at you two. “There’s a group of teens coming our way! Are they your friends?”

“Yeah! They said they were stopping by for a bit!” You smiled up at her as Lydia opened the front door. “Hey Beej! Get ready!!”

In an instant, Beetlejuice was at the door grinning from ear to ear. “This is gonna be so fun!” He giggles and hides in the shadows when he sees the group of teens approaching the house.

“Hey, Lydia, (Y/n). Hows the night going so far?” Hannah, one of the main girls smiled over at the two of you.

“Good! The night has been pretty good. We’ve had a bunch of kids come by so far.” You smiled back at her and waved to the rest of the group.

One of the other girls smiled back and asked. “So everyone here knows your house is allegedly haunted.”

“It is.”

“It just kinda looks creepy. If there are ghosts here can we see them?:”

“I’ll do ya one better girly. How about a demon?” BJ was suddenly by the girl's side causing her to scream.

One of the other girls raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably just some creep in a costume.”

“Costume? I’ll have you know these are my actual clothes.”

“We should get going…we’re going to be late for the party”

Beetlejuice smiled at the girl who was genuinely scared. “So soon? I thought you girls would wanna come hang out with us. I hoped you wouldn’t mind that I brought a couple of friends with me.”

“F-friends?”

“Fellas...It’s Showtime!” with the snap of his fingers, Beetlejuice took out all the lights as purple and green replaced the bright yellow ones. The girls felt strange like they were being surrounded, Shadows popped up around them only to be revealed as clones of the first man.

“Wh-whats happening?!” Shrieks and screams could be heard but Beetlejuice wasn’t done yet.

“Don’t go away just yet girls! You haven’t even said hello to our dear friend Sandy!” With a motion of his hand, the girls looked into the doorway and they were shocked to see a giant black and white snake slither its way to them.

Frozen and shaking each girl held on to one another for dear life. One gasped as the snake lifted her head above them. There was a pause, pure silence. None of the girls dared to move. Beetlejuice gave Sandy a wink and that signaled for the Snake to open it’s mouth revealing rows of teeth and little Sandy inside hissing at the group causing them to scream at the top of their lungs and bolt out of there as fast as they could.

Beetlejuice and his clones laugh in unison until in a flash they’re gone leaving you and Lydia bursting with laughter in your seats petting Sandy. Beetlejuice goes over and takes a few candies from one of the bowls making his way inside. “Thanks, Lyds, that was amazing!”

Sandy slithered back into the house. You and Lydia stayed outside a bit more just admiring the night sky and enjoying the cold air.

“We still have some candy in this bowl.” Lydia smiles and sakes the bowl a bit. “Let’s go get rid of the paint and we can go watch some scary movies in my room for the rest of the night.”

“Please! I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day!”

Lydia giggles as she stands up and takes your hand in hers leading back into the house being careful not to knock over the jack-o-lanterns you two made the day before.

---------

Sighing as you and Lydia settle into her room after cleaning your faces you make yourself comfortable in her bed. Lydia lights a few of her candles, one being a scented candle to fill the room with a pumpkin scent.

Lydia blows out her match and leaves on her desk for it to cool off before she throws it away. “So what should we watch?”

“I was thinking of either Halloween or Trick ‘r Treat, to start us off.”

She smiles as she reached for both movies from her bookshelf. “Looks like we’re watching Halloween first.” putting on the movie Lydia grabbed the bowl of candy and made her way to her bed. “Scoot over babe.”

Scooting a bit closer to the wall you wrapped your arms around Lydia once she got comfortable and turned her face towards you, kissing her and giggling a bit at the fact that she tasted like chocolate.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #lydia deetz #lydia deetz x reader #beetlejuice bway #beetlejuice broadway #Halloween #halloween fic

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robinrunsfiction · 5 years

Note

HIIII. 53 "Halloween is my aesthetic" with Frank!

Halloween Is My Aesthetic

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female ReaderRating: GeneralRequested By: @glittercupcakes-and-squatsWord Count: ~900Author’s Note: Ok, this will likely be short (like Frank) but hopefully adorable… like Frank lol Also I was playing Hemmingway when I wrote this so I was a little buzzed and didn’t proof read it (and still haven’t!)

Frank had arrived at your door for your first date with a small bouquet of roses in hand. He had been an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, for a while and you were totally surprised when he nervously asked you out one day. You were totally flattered that someone so gorgeous and talented had noticed you, and for him to want to take you out on a date on top of that? You could hardly believe it.

“Is there anywhere you wanted to go for dinner?” He asked as you walked to his car.

“Umm, there’s this one place that’s cool,” you offered as he opened the door for you and you slid in to the seat, smoothing our your black dress.

“Wanna punch it in the GPS?” he asked handing you his phone. When you glanced at it, he had left your text message open and you spotted the little heart emoji he had added next to your name and you couldn’t help but smile.

You punched in the address and he followed the instructions as you rode quietly to the restaurant. When you pulled up Frank’s face lit up.

“Wait is this it?”

“Yea, it’s a zombie themed restaurant, but it’s super cool,” you explained as you both got out.

“That’s so rad,” he grinned as he took your hand and you went inside.

When you were seated at your table and you both had your drinks ordered, Frank looked around at the decor wide eyed.

“Is it like this year round?” He asked.

“Yea, I love coming here because Halloween is my aesthetic and it’s always like this.”

“I love Halloween too, it’s my birthday actually,” Frank replied.

“No way!”

“Yea, check this out,” he said as he held out his knuckles showing they spelled out Halloween.

“I’ve never noticed that in all the times we’ve hung out!” You laughed.

You continued to chat about your shared love of Halloween, zombies, horror movies and everything creepy until your meals were finished and you both had finished your milkshakes, both having chosen the red velvet with oreo cookies had a drizzle that looked like blood on top.

Frank’s hand had held yours from across the table for a good portion of the date. You couldn’t help but blush when you realized how intently he listened to you when you spoke, his caring eyes watching you, and the way he laughed at your stories.

Soon you were pulling back up in front of your house, and you very much did not want the evening to end.

“Hey Frank,” you started.

“Yea (YN)” he asked hopefully, glancing over at you.

“You wanna come in and watch a movie or something?”

“Yea, that would be awesome,” he said with a soft smile.

Frank followed you in and you smiled at the flowers that you had put in a glass of water on the table before you left and settled in to the couch. He sat down next to you, but not too close, as you found a movie on tv to watch.

As you watched it and talked about the movie that you had both seen a few times, you could feel yourself sliding closer to Frank. Soon he stretched out and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. You settled in against him and rested you head against him. He then rested his head on top of your and you sighed happily. If you had looked up, you would have seen the smile on his face as well reflecting how lucky he felt to finally get a chance to be alone with you and finding out you were even cooler than he could have ever hoped.

When the movie was over it was getting late and Frank announced he should probably head home. You got up and followed him to your door.

“I had a really great time,” you smiled up at him.

“Wanna do it again some time?” He asked, trying to sound casual, but his heart started thumping in his chest, worried you would say no.

“I’d love to,” you smiled and he grinned in response. You reached out and wrapped your arms around him in a hug and he pulled you in just as tight. When you pulled back and looked up at him he decided to take his chance.

He leaned down and his lips met yours. He smiled into the kiss as you kissed him back. He marveled at how soft your lips felt against his, how right it felt to hold you against him. He couldn’t believe how quickly he was falling for you, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was this moment to last forever.

When you did eventually have to pull back for air, you smiled up at him again. “Yea I’d really love to do this again.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Frank smiled. “Night (YN),” Frank said as he turned and headed out the door.

You were still practically swooning as you leaned back against the door and spotted the flowers on the table. You couldn’t believe that someone as cool as Frank was interested in you and that he wanted to go out with you again soon. But if you had happened to look out your window, you would have seen spotted Frank in his car doing a very dorky celebratory dance over the fact that you seemed to like him just as much as he liked you.

#frank iero x reader #frank iero fan fic #frank iero fan fiction #my chemical romance fan fic #my chemical romance fan fiction #requested #not proof read whoops #glittercupcakes-and-squats #frank iero imagine

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fanfictionandmore · 5 years

Text

Stitches | Edward Scissorhands [Two Shot]

Cinnamon's POV:

"Are you excited to move into our new home?" My adoptive mom asked me curiously as we pulled into our new neighborhood. "I guess." I replied, shrugging my shoulders. The houses that lined the street weren't the ones I was use to. Most of the houses I've seen in my life were either white or made out of red bricks, but these... these were painted all different colors.

One was mint green, another one was pastel pink, and there was a powder blue one as well. 'This place is strange, but... I kinda like it.' I thought inside of my head as my adoptive dad drove slowly down the street. Eventually we ended up parking in the driveway of a lavender purple colored home, which made me smile a little. Lavender and purples have always been some of my favorite colors. "Alright, let's get everything inside before it gets too dark." Larry, my adoptive dad said before he un-buckled and opened the driver's door.

My adoptive mom, Jamie followed him. I was the last to get out of the car. I took in my surroundings as I did so, and I couldn't help but notice that some of our neighbors were looking out of their windows. The sound of kids playing in near by back yards filled my ears as well as some singing birds. Then I looked down the street and saw a large black castle sitting at the top of a large hill. "Wow. I bet they have a nice view from up there." I said quietly under my breath.

I shoved my curiosity to the back of my mind before grabbing some stuff and headed inside with my things. After we got everything in the house I went to my brand new bedroom where I'd probably be spending most of my time. Larry ended up helping me set my bed up and everything before he moved on to the rest of the house with Jamie. Once I was left alone I made my bed and started organizing everything that needed organizing. Suddenly the sound of our doorbell interrupted the tranquil silence that had settled in.

I sort of figured it was one of our neighbors welcoming us into the neighborhood, so I didn't even bother leaving my room. People kept coming and coming with hot food, cookies, welcoming gifts, etc. It was really nice of them to be so kind but I knew that most of it was because they were being nosey. They wanted to know who were were and how we act... what kind of people we were. It happens every single time we've moved somewhere.

In a way it was kinda old and slightly annoying. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind and just tried focusing on getting my room decorated. 'I'll need a new bookshelf... and a desk.' I said inside of my head as I finished putting my clothes into my closet. That was really the only thing I could unpack. We left and sold all the old furniture with the last house we lived in.

I really liked that house and that neighborhood, but school was brutal there. Everyone always picked on me because of my name, apparently having someone named Cinnamon is too gypsy-ish or hipster. But it wasn't just because of my name. I also got bullied for the clothes I wear, music I listen to, and books I read. Someone even made fun of the art I do, because it was too different.

It's like if you're different then people immediately attack you because of it, because they don't understand it. 'Come on, Cinnamon. Don't think about all of that negative stuff. You're getting a new start and that's all that matters.' I said inside of my head as I laid down on my new bed. 'I really hope things will be different here.' I thought as I stared up at my ceiling fan. A few minutes passed and I glanced out of my bedroom window. The sun was still out even though it was setting. It looked so beautiful out, so I decided to go for a walk.

"Jamie, Larry!" I said as I walked into the kitchen. Both of them were unpacking the dishes and putting them in cupboards. "Yes?" Larry asked me. Even though they've been my legal guardians for two years, I still wasn't able to call them mom and dad. The memory of losing my biological parents was still too fresh in my mind to move on just yet, and they seemed to understand. They were truly the kindest people I've ever met and appreciated them dearly; I appreciate them more than they'll ever understand.

"It's really nice outside, and I thought I'd just go out for a little walk." I said. "That's fine, just don't be out too late." Jamie said. "I won't. I promise." I said with a small smile before I left the kitchen and headed out the front door. As I walked out into the sidewalk I could still hear kids playing. There was a faint lawnmower running as well, and the refreshing scent of freshly cut grass filled my lungs. 'Thank god it's summer.' I thought inside of my head as I walked down the street on the sidewalk.

It was only the last part of May, so I had a good long while until school started back up. This year I was going into my senior year of high school. One more year and I'd be able to chose which college to go. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind as I walked onward, and just enjoyed the lovely weather. Eventually I reached the end of the road. The black top completely stopped at an open rusty gate that was falling apart.

Half of the bars in the gate were bent or broken from years of neglect and weathering. A dirt driveway lead all the way up to that castle I spotted earlier, and I wondered if anyone loved up there. "You don't wanna go up there." A young kid's voice said. I turned around to find a boy that looked about six or seven. He was a on a bright red bicycle with black racing stripes.

"Why? Someone unfriendly live up there?" I asked him curiously. "No, but it's haunted. It has been for years, according to my bigger brother." He said with a serious look on his round boyish face. "How does your brother know it's haunted? Has been up there himself?" I replied with furrowed brows. "I don't think so. He said his friend Henry went up there last Halloween and he saw a ghost up there." He said.

He welcomed me to the neighborhood and told me to have a good day before he sped off up the street. I turned back towards the rusty gate and figured his older brother's friend just scared himself. It wasn't because I didn't believe in ghosts, it's because I wasn't getting any bad vibes from the castle at the top of the hill. Maybe I didn't feel anything due to how far I was from the place, but I highly doubted it. The more I thought about it, the more I was intrigued.

I found myself wanting to know if it really was haunted or not. I took my phone out of my pocket and checked the time. 5:30pm read on the center of my screen, and I figured I could go up and take a quick look around. I walked off of the black top and onto the dirt driveway that dad to the castle above. As I got closer the steeper the driveway got, and I suddenly wished I would have taken the car. But it was good exercise.

Everything was grown up and it looked as if no one had been here for years, maybe even decades. Sweat broke out on my brow and I wiped it away as I reached an easier patch of path. In front of me rose another rusty gate, but this one wasn't bent or falling down like the one before. It looked like it was in just as bad shape, but still intact and overgrown with vines. I gently pushed it open with my foot in case there was any poison ivy hiding in the vines.

The gate slowly swung open with a groan before I walked through it. I audibly gasped when I looked around at my new surroundings. The dark, decrepit castle was blocked in by a stone wall, and it seemed to keep the overgrown vines and whatnot out. The grass was neatly trimmed and beautiful flowers grew almost everywhere. Shrubs and large bushes had been trimmed and cut to take the shape of many different animals and mythical creatures.

It was like I had fallen down the rabbit hole and ended up in Wonderland. I felt as if I was in a literal dream, but I knew I wasn't sleeping. After I had fully digested the information my eyes were feeding my brain, I turned my attention to the blackened castle in front of me. The structure was a complete contrast to what was surrounding it. My eye caught movement in an window that was at the top of the castle.

I wondered if it was the lighting playing a trick on my eyes, but I definitely knew I had saw someone or something. "Hello? I'm sorry if I'm trespassing. I didn't know anyone loved here." I said loudly, but no one replied. I stood there for a few minutes before deciding to go back home, but the sound of a door opening and footsteps stopped me. When I turned towards the sound my stomach filled with anxiety and fear. A man in a black leather outfit was walking towards me with what looked like knives for hands.

I knew he wasn't holding weapons, because there's no way a human hand can hold several knives in one hand. "I... I'll... um..." I said, swallowing thickly. "I'll be... be going then. I didn't mean to disturb you." I said nervously as I backed up slowly. "Don't go. I... I won't hurt you." The soft voice that came out of his mouth was almost shocking. It wasn't intimidating at all, it was... honestly it was cute.

The innocent and shy look on his face made me go soft, and I stopped trying to plan my escape. He looked like a lost puppy just trying to find a friend, and it pulled at my heartstrings. "Who are you, and... and why do you have... scissors for hands?" I asked him after a long moment of silence. Now that he was closer I did notice that his hands were made out of scissors instead of knives. I had a feeling he was dressed head to toe in leather, so he wouldn't hurt or kill himself with the blades on his hands.

"I'm Edward. I'm not finished." He replied shyly. "Hi, Edward. My name is Cinnamon." I replied as I slowly walked towards him. "Cinnamon?" He asked. "Yeah, it's technically the name of a spice but my parents named me after it I guess." I replied with a slight laugh. Now that I was even closer to him I noticed how pale he was and the many scars on his face. His lips looked kinda purple-ish; his bottom lip had a scar as well.

The jet black hair on top of his head was messy and stuck out at odd angles. "It sounds pretty, I like it." He said, which made me smile and he smiled too. Suddenly I realized that it was getting late, and I wished it wasn't going on six thirty already. I just met someone who was interesting and different. I had so many questions that I wanted to ask him.

"Edward, it's getting kinda late and I have to be home for dinner. But... I promise I'll be back again tomorrow. Would you like it if I came and visited you tomorrow?" I said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled around us. "Yes." He replied with an excited look in his chocolate brown eyes. "Good. I'll see you tomorrow then." I said with a smile. I was so glad he wanted to see me again as much as I wanted to see him. "See you tomorrow, Cinnamon." He replied.

I waved him goodbye before I made my way back home. Deep down I was feeling kinda sad for leaving Edward up there, but I knew it was for the best. If he came down here with those scissorshands of his, he'd send everyone in a panic. I walked into the house and quickly washed my hands before I joined my parents in the kitchen. "Did you have a nice walk?" Larry asked me curiously.

"Yeah, it was great." I replied with a small smile. "Good." He replied with a bright smile on his face. The three of us had to eat on the kitchen floor, because we didn't have a kitchen table yet. So after we finished eating we made a list of the many furniture items we needed to pick up tomorrow. After we talked for a little while I ended up going into my room. I read a bit of the current book I was reading before getting ready for bed.

I changed into my pajamas and climbed into my new and comfortable bed. It took me a while to actually fall asleep, but when I did all I could dream about was Edward.

The next morning I woke up to the sound of chirping birds. After I stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes I got out of bed. I used the bathroom and got ready for the day. I slipped on a Black Veil Brides t-shirt, a pair of ripped black jeans, and my black and white converse. Then I went downstairs to eat breakfast on the kitchen floor with Larry and Jamie.

"Do you wanna come to town with us and help us buy some furniture?" Larry asked me curiously as he helped Jamie wash the dishes. "Actually, I wanted to explore the neighborhood a bit more. I hope you guys don't mind." I replied, hoping they didn't. I really wanted to spend most of the day with Edward. "That's fine, just be careful and don't get into any trouble." Jamie said, and Larry agreed. "I will and I promise that I won't. Thanks." I replied with a small smile. They smiled as well.

They knew I wasn't a trouble child, even if I am emo/goth. People like me always get a bad reputation just because of the way we dress and the music we listen too. It sounds like a cliche, but it's true when people say that normal people don't really understand us. After they finished washing the dishes they got ready to leave and I told them goodbye. I waited a few minutes after their vehicle was completely out of sight. I didn't want them turning around and coming back if they forgot something.

Having them catch me going up to that castle would probably get me grounded. So when I decided that it was safe I grabbed my house keys and locked the door behind me before leaving. The sound of lawn mowers, music, and kids playing filled my ears as soon as I stepped outside. The weather was gorgeous. It really was a great excuse to be out and about on a day like this.

I shoved my thoughts to the back of my mind as I walked down the street. A couple of neighbors said their hellos as I passed their houses, and I said hello back. 'I hope they don't see where I'm going. They'll tell my adoptive parents and I'll get grounded.' I thought inside of my head, which gave me a little bit of anxiety. As I approached the broken and fallen gate I made sure no one was watching me before I stepped through it. Sweat broke out on my brow once again during my walk up to the castle, but I didn't mind.

It was good exercise and it was totally worth it to see Edward again. When I reached the second gate I had to push it open just like before, because I closed it when I left last night. My surroundings were just as beautiful as they were before, and I couldn't help but feel a bit magical. This entire property seemed to exude good energy. I walked towards the castle door and found that it was closed, but not locked.

I knocked before I opened the door and announced my presence. The inside of the structure looked dull and gray; the exact opposite of what laid outside. A thick layer of dust slept heavily on sheet draped furniture and steal machinery. Cobwebs laced together many gaps and small spaces. There wasn't any doubt that whomever use to love here no longer did, and I wondered if they had left Edward behind.

As I closed the door behind me I could hear footsteps upstairs. Edward came down a flight of stairs that was right in the middle of the foyer. He looked the same as he did last night, but his hair some how looked wilder. "Cinnamon, you came." He said with a happy and excited look on his face. "Of course I did. I promised you that I would." I replied as I walked towards him.

I got the urge to hug him, but I was hesitant due to the sharp blades that were his hands. "Can... can I hug you?" I asked him curiously. He nodded shyly and I gently grasped each of his arms to wrap around my body before I wrapped my arms around him. The black leather outfit he was wearing was rough, yet smooth in some places. The metal buckles and whatnot felt cold to the touch on my warm skin, but I didn't mind.

To my surprise he gently tightened his arms around me and I did the same to him. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the closeness he and I shared. It felt like our souls had intertwined and it was the most comforting sensations I've ever felt. We gently broke the hug and he lead me upstairs where a gaping hole was in the ceiling. I couldn't help but wonder what had happened to have cause that, but I figured the long years of neglect was the cause.

"Do you live here alone?" I asked him curiously as he and I took a seat on a creaky little bead I figured was his. He said he did, and I proceeded to ask him the many questions that swam around in my brain. He answered every single one of them the best he could. His father had died before he could give him proper hands, but he just said that his father didn't wake up one day. It was such an innocent way to describe the death of a loved one, and I figured that death didn't exist in his mind; he didn't understand the concept of death.

Then he described how he was found up here in a way kind how I found him. But the woman that found him ended up taking him down into the neighborhood. The family that took him in was nice and kind to him and so where the neighbors. That changed when the girl he fell in love with asked him to break into her boyfriend's house; he ended up getting caught and thrown in jail over night. Then it was like everyone turned on him... everyone except for Kim and her family.

When he finished telling all of this I was crying. My heart ached for him, and I wished there was some way for me to make everything better... to make him feel better. "Oh, Edward. I'm so sorry." I said as I placed a hand on his shoulder blade and gently rubbed his back. "It's okay. I never really expected Kim to come and visit me after that night. Our goodbye felt way too permanent." He replied with slumped shoulders.

He was looking down at his laced blades, and my heart hurt for him. "Well... I promise to come and visit you as much as I can." I said as I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and sort of gave him a side hug. "Really?" He asked me curiously. "Absolutely." I replied, and a big smile spread across his handsome face. Since he was feeling a little better I suggested that we go outside and enjoy the nice weather. He went around trimming some of the bushes and shrubs and I admired his technique.

He was truly a gifted and creative man. It was sad knowing that virtually no one else would have the opportunity to witness his art. When he was finished we laid down in the soft green grass and watched the white clouds floating by. I was snuggled into his side with his arm underneath my head. He moved one of his blades and it nicked my arm, which made me gasp.

I sat up and looked at the cut, which was nothing but a little scratch. "Did I cut you?" He asked with a panicked look in his chocolate brown eyes. "It's just a little scratch. It's okay." I replied as I used my shirt to wipe the blood off of my arm. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." Edward said, trying to make himself as small as possible. He looked sad and scared. "It's okay." I said softly as I tried to comfort him.

I left a gentle kiss on his warm cheek before I wrapped my arms around him and held him close. I felt so bad for him. It was probably so frustrating and hard to be so afraid of hurting the ones you love and care about. Edward finally relaxed and we went back to having fun. We had such a good time together I forgot I skipped lunch. Eventually I had to go back home though, because I didn't want my parents worrying about me.

We said our goodbyes and he apologized for the little scratch he had given me once more. We hugged goodbye before I walked back down to my house. When I got there my parents were putting together some furniture in the living room. "Hey, did you have a nice day?" Jamie asked me curiously. "Yeah, I didn't actually. Thanks for asking." I replied before I went to the bathroom. I used the toilet before cleaning and putting a band aid on the scratch Edward accidentally gave me.

Then I went out into the living room to help Larry and Jamie put together the furniture. "What happened? Did you hurt yourself?" Jamie asked me curiously, and I knew she noticed the band aid that was on my arm. "I got into a fight with a thorn bush." I replied, which made Larry chuckle. "Well, at least you didn't get scraped anymore than you did." He said with a small smile on his face. The rest of my day was filled with furniture building, and I wondered what Edward was up to now that I wasn't around.

I couldn't help but feel bad knowing the he's probably just sitting around up there bored out of his mind. After we ate dinner Larry helped me out together my book shelf and a small little desk for my room. When we were finished I grabbed my book and sat down on the bed to read. My life was way different now, and I wondered what was going to come of my friendship with Edward.

*****

The past couple of months I've been sneaking off to see Edward at all hours of the day and night. Occasionally I'd food and water up with me Just so I could stay longer. Not to mention the fact he always looked so hungry and malnourished. I wasn't entirely sure if he was human or not, but he could feel emotions so he had to be at least a little human. The only thing I was worried about was getting caught.

If Jamie or Larry spotted me leaving the house in the middle of the night I'd be grounded for life. But right now all of my worried was elsewhere, because I was with Edward. We were laying in the grass looking up at the night sky. The moon was bright and full; the stars sparkled in the inky blackness above. "I love being with you, Edward. I wish we could live together so we could see each other more often." I said, breaking the silence.

"So do I, but we can't. I can't go down there and you have a family to think about." He said. We cuddled and he was so extra careful not to hurt me in any way, which was so sweet and cute. Sadly I eventually had to say goodnight to him and go back home. He left a gentle kiss on my cheek and I did the same to him before I went back down the hill. I felt so happy, but my mood instantly changed when I walked into the house.

The living room light switched on, and my adoptive parents were standing there in their pajamas. "Cinnamon, we need to talk. Have a seat." Larry said, pointing to the couch. I slowly walked over to the couch and sat down. I kinda already knew what they were going to tell me, and it made me feel a little sad. There was no way I was getting out of this without getting grounded, which meant I wouldn't be able to see Edward as much anymore.

"We know you've been sneaking out each night." Jamie said. "We just wanna know where you've been going." Larry said. Both of them looked worried and scared. I sort of figured they might think I was out taking drugs or defacing public property. "I've been going to that castle at the end of the street on top of the the hill." I replied after a few moments of silence. "Why have you been going up there?" Jamie asked me curiously with wide eyes. We sat there and looked at each other for a while before I came up with a solution.

"I'll show you why tomorrow. It's better if I show you, because if I tell you you might think I'm crazy." I said, and they looked at each other with an uncertain look in their eyes. They agreed to go up to the castle with me tomorrow tomorrow, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I was worried that they'd be close minded and shut down everything I said, but they didn't. We said goodnight to each other and I went into my room to change into my pajamas. Before climbing into bed I set my alarm clock so I'd be up bright and early.

I fell into a restless sleep, but it wasn't surprising. I was jolted awake from the sound of my alarm clock, and I stretched before rubbing the sleep from my eyes. After I got out of bed I used the bathroom and then got dressed. I put on a Twenty One Pilot t-shirt and a pair of ripped black jeans before putting on yellow converse. Then I went into the kitchen to make the three of us breakfast.

Shortly Jamie and Larry came into the kitchen and we ate silently. "Are you ready to go see why I've been sneaking off at night?" I asked them once we were finished eating. They said they were even though they looked nervous and worried. Instead of taking the car I insisted that we walked instead. I didn't wanna frighten Edward. "This hill is steeper than it looks." Larry said, and Jamie agreed.

I didn't have any trouble with it now, because I had gotten use to walking up the hill every day. I pushed the gate open and lead them into the beautiful flower garden that I have grown to love. Their eyes widened as they took in their surroundings. "It's so beautiful." Jamie said, breaking the silence. "This isn't the only reason I've been coming up here." I said. I told them to wait outside, and I quickly popped into the castle to call for Edward.

He came hurrying towards me from upstairs and we held each other in a tight embrace. "Edward, I brought my adoptive parents up to meet you." I said, and he seemed a little nervous. "It's okay, they're really nice. I think you'll really like them." I said. I turned around and walked back outside first. "This is why I've been coming up here to spend my time. Don't worry, he's really sweet and gentle. He won't hurt any of us." I said to my parents who looked nervous as well.

Jamie gasped when Edward came out of the castle behind me. They were in awe of what they were seeing, but they didn't seem afraid. I introduced them to each other and the nervousness in the air seemed to disappear. It was like Edward was a part of our family all along. We spent the majority of the morning with Edward in his beautiful garden. Edward needed stitches and we just happened to be the thread to put him back together.

THE END

++++++++++++++++++++++++ A/N: Thanks for reading!!

#johnny depp #edward scissorhands #tim burton #fanfiction #fantasy #romance #love #love story #two shot #cute #fluff #oc

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lovemesomesurveys · 5 years

Text

Do you prefer apple cider or chai? I’m actually not a fan of either one. Do you prefer pumpkin spice tea, pumpkin spice coffee, or no pumpkin spice? No pumpkin spice. I wish I liked it and could get hyped about it, but I don’t. Have you ever made a stupid mistake? HA. I’ve lost count. Do you ever feel insecure? I am very insecure. What does your trick-or-treat bag or pail look like? I’m 30 years old, my trick or treating days were over long, long ago. How old will you turn on your next birthday? 31. Blah.

What are your plans to celebrate? Ew, I’m not thinking about my next birthday right now. I just turned 30 and I’m in no rush to get any older. What floor do you live on? We live in a 1-story. Do you have a balcony? No. Do you ever feel alone? Yes. Do you like fall evenings or mornings better? I just love fall, man. I can’t wait. What is your favorite way to spend a fall evening? I do much of the same things, but the best part is I’m not hot and miserable like I am during the summer. What is your favorite way to spend a fall morning? Like I said, I don’t do anything different. I just love that it’s cold. What is your favorite fall drink, if you had to pick just one? I drink hot coffee all year round, but it is especially nice during the colder months. I also like some of Starbucks’ seasonal drinks. Which X Factor audition(s) was/were your favorite? I don’t watch X Factor. Were you a straight A student in spelling and grammar? I was, yes. I’m not in school anymore. Were you a straight A student in math? Noooo. I barely got by in math with a C. That was always my worst subject, I was just lucky I had good teachers and I was a good student because they wanted to help me and see me pass. Also, just doing the homework counted for a lot, so that is what really saved me. Would you rather wear orange or black? Black. Were you abused or do you know anyone who was abused? I know people who have been abused. Are you scared of something right now? Yes. Are you a democrat or republican, or neither? Blah. Do you plan on voting in this November’s election? There isn’t one this year. Do you have trouble keeping your room clean? No. Who would take care of you if you needed surgery? My mom. Do you have anyone that you can rely on? My family. Do you tend to wake up early or sleep in? I usually get up around 9 or 10, sometimes 11. Do you wish you could wake up earlier? No. What is the name of your favorite coffee shop in your town? I just go to Starbucks. Yeah, yeah I’m basic. What is fall weather usually like where you live? It doesn’t usually start to feel like fall until like late October here. D: Our summers are so long and miserable. Do you think you have an accent? I guess everyone does, but it’s weird to think of myself as having one. It’s not distinctive like a southern or British accent, for example. Have you been told you have an accent? No. Where do you live (country or state)? California. Are there any churches you feel welcome at in your town? I think so. If you could start a church, what would it be like? I wouldn’t start a church. What color is your favorite laundry basket? My hamper is red. What color is your clothes hamper? The one for dirty clothes is red, but I have another hamper for extra clothes storage that is teal. Do you use plastic, wooden, or wire hangers? Plastic. What is your favorite shade of yellow? I like various yellow shades. Are there any shades of blue that you don’t like? If so, which ones? Not that I can think of. What is something you want to accomplish before you turn 30? Welp, I’m already 30 so it’s too late for that. There were a few things. Are there paper-thin walls where you live? Yeah, kind of. Do you feel happy today? No, but I saw It Chapter 2 this morning, which was awesome. The movie was very well done, the entire cast is very talented. Perfect casting. Do you ever experience paranoia at random times? Yes. Who has the best decorated house in your town? *shrug* Like for the holidays? There’s several houses that I’ve seen that really go all out. A few that are known for that every year. What is your favorite part of Halloween? The spooky time, but I really love that time of year because of fall most of all. Is there a cemetery in your backyard? My dog, Brandie, is buried in our backyard. Do you feel a connection to the moon? No. What does your heart long for? Happiness... Do you know what your purpose in life is? No. If so, what is your purpose? Why are you here? If you live in an apartment, what is the maintenance man’s name? I don’t. Did you decorate a pumpkin this year? Not yet, but I likely won’t. I haven’t the past 3 or 4 years. If not, will you decorate a pumpkin this year? Probably not. What are some fall activities you would do with your kids? I don’t plan on having kids. Have you ever seen a fox? No. What color are the squirrels where you live? Normal squirrel color? Do you find Halloween fun or scary? I enjoy it. There’s spookiness, but I love it. Is there anything about Halloween you find offensive? Nah. What was the last thing you drank? Starbucks Doubleshot. What do the trees look like where you live? Like trees. lol. There’s various kinds. I’m not a tree specialist. What is your dream vacation? Beachy places, mountainous places, scenic and touristy places. I just wanna travel. What was the best vacation you’ve been on so far? Beach trips. What is the best class trip you’ve been on? Senior grad night at Disneyland. Having the park closed to the general public and only open to a few senior classes from different schools from like... 10 to 5AM I think it was, was awesome. Did you like field trips when you were a kid? Yeah. Do you find museums boring or interesting? I find them interesting. What was your school’s rival team’s mascot? Do you wish you could do your life over again and make less mistakes? Absolutely. What are three issues you are passionate about? I don’t really feel very passionate about much. :/ What are three countries you have no desire to visit? Hm. Do you like your country’s flag? Yeah. Would you ever wear a shirt with your country’s flag on it? I have. Do you have a bedspread or a comforter? Both? What size is your bed? Full. Do you prefer cotton or microfiber sheets? Microfiber. Does anyone love you and support you? My family. What’s a medicine that makes you sleepy? My pain med, allergy medicines, medicines intended to make to make you sleepy. Do you like bath bombs? I’ve never used one. I’m a shower person. What was the best summer of your life? Childhood summers. What year do you wish you could go back to? Childhood years. What did your favorite homecoming dress look like? I didn’t go to homecoming. Who is your favorite neighbor? I don’t know any of them. What did you last have for lunch? A sandwich. If someone told you “trick” instead of giving you a treat, what would u do? I’d prefer the treat. Who are your favorite small youtubers? A lot of the YouTubers I watch have a big following, but there’s a few smaller ones as well. Who are your favorite big youtubers? Shane Dawson is one of them, and a few ASMRists. What was your favorite girl group when you were growing up? Spice Girls, probably. Do you like Disney movies? Yes. Were you ever in the popular crowd? Nope. I was more than fine with that. If not, do you want to be popular? No. Would you rather live in a log cabin or Smarthouse? Smarthouse, ha. That reminds me of that old Disney Channel movie. Have you ever used an outhouse? No. What does your middle name rhyme with? What was the name of the first dorm you lived in? I’ve never lived in a dorm. Were your college years the best years of your life? No.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years

Text

Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 7

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, little bit of Angst

Word Count: 6,441

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Listen up, fuckers!” Negan called out as he got out of the van that had been used to transport the guys and girls to the ceremony so you wouldn’t call attention to it with a bunch of bikes (or ruin your outfits). “I’m fucking proud as fuck… to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Opie Winston!” The street erupted in an explosion of cheers and whistles as you and your husband walked around the front of the van with Hunter in his carseat in Opie’s hand. The cheers didn’t stop as he spun you around in your dress for the Saviors to see, giving you a fast look at the unbelievable party Frankie had managed to throw together in only a week.

“Jesus, look at this.” You said as you started with the green, blue, and pink streamer and balloon covered light poles to represent everyone in your family, and the same decorations on all the houses in the cul de sac.

There were at least a dozen tables covered with food and desserts under net food covers, and glass domes to keep any bugs that were still around in the early November weather away, and every inch of space between those tables had coolers, and ice buckets full of drinks of every kind. You recognized most of the silverware, cups, and plates as the ones from the diner, which made you nod your head at Frankie’s resourcefulness. On top of that, there were games for every age spread out on the front yards of peoples houses, as well as chairs, more tables that you knew came from the Sanctuary’s holiday stock pile, and the few fire pits the clubhouse had outside as well.

“I did my best.” Frankie said as she was walking past toward your dad’s house to find something to put dirty dishes in so they could get washed the next day at the diner by the prospects and the harlots. You reached out and grabbed her arm to address her for the first time as your dad’s old lady and not the harlot she was.

“Thank you.” You said earnestly as you let go of her arm. “I… we honestly, deeply appreciate what you’ve pulled together.” She smiled at you as if she had just won the lottery and nodded.

“I’d hug you, but I’m all sweaty.” She giggled as she wiped her forehead as if to make a point. “But I put that white bride sweatsuit you showed Maggie that you liked in case you get cold or wanna get out of that dress on your bed. I hope it’s the right one.”

“Thanks Frankie.” You repeated before your attention was called away to your guests. As you said hello to Carol and Ezekiel, you heard your dad’s deep chuckle behind you.

“Told you she’d warm up to you after a while.” You smirked to yourself, and shook your head as you realized that you were going to have to accept that after 13 years, your dad was moving on.

——

You figured that there was eventually going to be an issue between the Sons and the Saviors, but you honestly didn’t expect it to be because of what it was. You assumed that it would just be a slight pissing match between Chibs or Jax and either Simon or one of the many prospects in attendance… not because the VP overheard Romeo updating Negan about Clay’s demise directly in front of you.

“How are you still awake, Hunter?” You said as you rocked on the rocking chair you had had a prospect carry up to the street for you while you tried to get your son to fall asleep after his last feeding.

“Probably because of all the noise.” Aaron, one of the patches from the Hilltop said as he rocked beside you. You shook your head as you moved Hunter in your arms so you could lay him on your chest for a while.

“He never really seems to be affected by the noises around him.” You said as you rubbed your son’s back in a small, slow circle. “He slept through the Halloween party and the raid, no problem, and he sleeps right through movie night despite the fact that our surround sound is pretty loud.” You shook your head and looked over at Aaron with a smile. “He’s just stubborn like his mommy.”

“What?“ Jax said loudly directly in front of you as he turned away from his path toward you to see Hunter, and spun Negan around to face him. “The fuck did I just hear?” Your dad looked relatively unfazed as he shook his head.

“You need to hear me out…”

“The fuck I’m gunna hear you out!” Jax shouted as he yanked a gun from the back of his jeans. You moved before you though as at least twenty guns were drawn on both sides.

“No, stop!” You cried as you held Hunter to your chest and moved between Negan and Jax. “Stop!” You realized a moment to late exactly what you had just done when you were looking down the barrel of a glock, and you closed your eyes in sheer terror for yourself and your child.

“Put the fucking guns down!” Opie roared as he ran up your driveway with the blanket he had offered to grab for you for Hunter. There was a murmur of the repeated sentiment as Opie threw himself between you and Jax and pulled you forward against his back carefully, to not hurt his son. He sighed to catch his breath and shook his head at his best friend. “Can you just fucking listen? Two minutes before you react.”

“For you.” He growled with a death glare at Negan and Romeo. “Two minutes before I put a fucking bullet through his head.” You and Opie let out a sigh of relief as Jax turned toward your drive way and stormed off with Chibs right behind him. Your husband rounded on you with fear and rage in his eyes as he grabbed your upper arms.

“Are you outta your fucking mind?” He shouted. “What the fuck were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t.” You said you said as you burst into tears and started to shake. He pulled you into his chest and held you and Hunter tight as his son started to cry from the shouting and tense feelings around him.

“OK, alright.” Opie breathed as he took a step back and kissed your forehead. “Don’t fucking do that shit again, you hear me? You run from the fucking guns. Not act like a fucking dumbass and run toward them.” You nodded your head and sniffled as he carefully took his son from you with a small smirk. “You’ve lost Hunter holding privileges for twenty minutes.” You let out a choked laugh and nodded your head as you pulled the blanket from his shoulder and helped wrap it around your son.

“Alright, shows over, people!” Frankie called out as she stepped around one of the food tables where she was making leftover dishes for you to store in your fridge so you wouldn’t need to cook. “We still got s’mores over here! And the champagne will go flat if it’s not finished!” You gave her a weak smile of thanks before Opie turned you around to go back to your house to oversee the conversation between the Sons and the Saviors in your living room.

“…didn’t have another fucking option.” Negan said to the three Sons as he set your laptop down on the coffee table in your living room and pulled up the video. “He had us fucking raided when we had fucking kids there.”

“They had the right to retaliate.” Opie said as he sat down on the chair and moved Hunter to his bent arm. “But they did it strategically.”

“Clay was the only one taken out.” Romeo said as he leaned against your fireplace.

“From what Ope said, he would be the only one to blame here.” You tried as the camera switched views from the raid to Clay pulling up to the Sanctuary’s driveway.

“Since he broke the fucking peace treaty we established, we felt he was to much of a fucking threat. My guy has already been handled.” He said as he gestured to Dwight on the screen, who you just realized you hadn't seen in a week.

“And I made sure to pull the three of you out first.” Opie said as he sat forward. “We had this all planned. Set you up to take the gavel…”

“Make the cartel take the hit of the murder.” Romeo chimed in.

“So we can all settle back into the damn treaty like you and I originally wanted.” Negan finished as Jax finally looked away from the screen.

“We didn’t want to cause problems with the Sons.” You said with a shake of your head as you sat down on the arm of the chair beside your husband. “But there was no other way. We couldn’t risk telling you over the phone and you being overheard…”

“Or any of you giving us away early out of spite.” Opie said as he looked pointedly at his dad. Piney rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically before looking away.

“We have to keep the fucking Sons together.” Negan said as he leaned forward in his chair. “Both our fucking clubs depended on it. Because if we didn’t fucking go about it this way, we would have had to drop ATF right back on your fucking doorstep. And it would have turned into a fucking bloodbath.”

“So wha’ do we need ta do, now?” Chibs asked. You looked down at Ope, and over at Negan for an answer before Romeo took the lead.

“Now, you finish celebrating your friend’s marriage.” He said as he pointed at you and Opie. “Then, you’ll go home, and go back to what you all were doing since you don’t know fucking shit about this. The cartel only supplied the means for the hit. It was a favor to an associate. We have no qualms with the Sons, and we’d appreciate it if you could try to turn any retaliation away from us.”

“Same here.” Negan added with a slow nod. “I trust my new son-in-law. Wouldn’t let him marry my fucking daughter if I didn’t. I know he wouldn’t point a fucking finger at your former president if he wasn’t fucking positive it was just your fucking president.”

“Honestly, I didn’t know.” Jax said as he glanced over at Chibs, who also shook his head. “Tig probably did.”

“Ye think anyone else had their dicks in the dyke? I don’ think he’d’a gone ta Juicy, nor Bobby. ‘app’ would be more obvious ‘bout ‘is retribution ‘ad ‘e called ‘im in. Oth’a cha’ta’s knowing woulda come down the pipeline. ‘ad ta be just Clay an’ maybe Tig.” Chibs said quickly as he looked at his new president.

“Wait, what did he just say?” You asked in a loud whisper as you leaned down toward Ope with a confused look at the thick accent.

“You get used to it.” Piney said with a chuckle as he went over to raid your fridge for a beer.

“He basically agreed with Ope.” Jax translated with a nod as he looked back over at your dad. “No more. This shit ends here.”

“Consider the fucking treaty still intact.” He said with a nod as he stuck his hand out to the other president.

“Well alright then.” You said as they shook hands. “I’ve been dying for a s’more so since y’all are all caught up and have settled the pissing match, I vote you join me. Because I’m not breast feeding tonight and I also want another glass of champagne. So let’s go. Up, up, and out of my house. I’m the bride and I make the fucking rules here.”

“Yea, and you step in front of a mother fucking gun again, and you’ll be a dead mother fucking bride.” Negan said as he got up from his chair.

“She already got in trouble for it.” Opie said with a nod as he moved his yawning son to his chest. “She lost her Hunter holding privileges.”

“Which leaves me with two hands for champagne now.” You joked as you held open your front door for the men to leave. “So I still win.”

——

“I think they’re trying to tell us something.” You said with a small giggle as you opened up yet another set of bathing suits with the word ‘bride’ on the back of your bikini and the word ‘groom’ down the leg for the one for Opie before bed because the temptation was just too much to resist.

“Hawaii, maybe?” Opie suggested as he took the card from you to make a list for thank you cards.

“Some sort of beach.” You said as you pulled the last giant box toward you, and started ripping off the paper. “Maybe a water park or… what the fuck is this?” He looked up at you and his brow furrowed as your read the box label. “I already own suitcases…” Frankie, who had been trying to fit all your leftovers in your fridge, and freezer, glanced over her shoulder at you.

“That’s part of the gift from me and your dad.” She said as she fit the last container of a couple slices of your wedding cake in the fridge, and shut the door. “Don’t open it yet. It was supposed to go last.”

“It is last.” You said with a nod as you pointed to the pile of essentially just beach gear beside you.

“OK, let me go grab Negan. Give me a minute.” You nodded your head as the red head grabbed the full trash bag from the floor and quickly walked out the door.

“Do I have to like them together?” You asked as you turned to Opie.

“You kinda do.” He said as he started collecting the wrapping paper. “You have to accept them together because they accepted us together. Croweater or not, she’s now your dad’s old lady. So you have to accept them…”

“You didn’t say like.” You pointed out as you got up to grab the trash can for him.

“Quit.” He chuckled as your dad and Frankie walked back in.

“So what are the guesses?” Your dad asked as he held out a stack of three boxes roughly the size of your palm each, tied together with a ribbon.

“Hawaii.” Opie guessed as you took the stack of gifts. “Some kind of water park.”

“Maybe the beach somewhere.” You suggested.

“Close.” Your dad said as he sat down on the couch beside you. “Start from the smallest and work your way down.” You nodded your head as you pulled off the ribbon and set it on the table to add it to your holiday ribbon stash. The bottom two boxes got placed in your lap before you ripped off the wrapping paper and dropped it in the trash can.

“Really?” You asked as you pulled out a small stack of what looked like only hundred dollar bills. “I have money…”

“Next!” Negan interrupted as he leaned back in the chair with a smug smile. You rolled your eyes and passed Opie the money so he could add it to the growing pile of gifts. The paper came off even faster than the first as Negan and Frankie shared an unseen to you smile.

“OK, now you’re just being a fucking smart ass.” You said as you pulled out a sandwich size bag of quarters.

“Shut the fuck up and keep going.” Negan said as he gestured you on.

“I swear to God if the next box is a bag of mother fucking dimes, I’m whipping them at you.” You mumbled as you set the bag of quarters on the table so it wouldn’t break open. The final box was opened with a slight sigh and you froze as you looked at the contents. “Fuck off.” You said as you looked up at your dad. “You’re kidding.”

“What?” Opie asked as he got up off the floor to look as well.

“You’re sending us on a cruise?!” You exclaimed as you picked up the tickets.

“Not just any cruise.” Negan said with a smile, knowing he had just won the wedding gift lottery. “A fucking Disney cruise since you’re a closet Disney freak and all.”

“Not so closet in this house.” Opie said as he picked up the passports from the box as well.

“Since you’ve never been to Disney ‘cause I was a fucking shitty parent, I figured honeymoon cruise on a Disney ship was the best gift I could give you.”

“It’s in April?” You asked as you looked at the tickets.

“Hunter will be six months old.” Frankie said with a smile. “So he can go, too.”

“And just to pre-warn you so it’s not a fucking shock. Frankie and I are going too. Different fucking room, different fucking deck, different fucking everything. But that way, we can baby sit for you one or two of the nights so you can be newlyweds and shit.”

“Open the box.” Frankie said with a smile as she jumped a bit in her spot on the chair.

“Now this shit makes sense.” Opie said as he looked at the dozen or so bathing suits for both of you, the pirates costumes, the matching, nicer than the ones you have, beach towels, and the gifts cards for Babies-R-Us, Baby Gap, and Gymboree. He picked up the three gift cards and held them up as you pulled an extra large, wheeled duffle bag from the box with your dad’s help. “For clothes Hunter can’t fit into yet?”

“Toys, bottles, swim diapers… whatever you need. The whole club pitched in for that stuff.” Frankie said with a nod as you set the duffle on the floor and unzipped it. “They also put in money for the trip. Figured since you guys have already moved in together and have all the kitchen shit you need that helping get you guys ready for your honeymoon was a better gift.”

“Ope, look at this.” You said as you pulled out gift set after gift set from the top of the bag. “Medicine kit, bath set, hooded Disney towels…” You said with a shake of your head as you looked up at your dad. “You did all this?”

“Not my idea.” He said with a shake of his head. “That’s all Frankie.” You looked over at her and shook your head slowly.

“Why are you so nice to me after I’ve been such a bitch to you?” She shrugged her shoulders as she moved her long hair over her shoulder.

“Because I’ve been around long enough to know that you’re not the bitch you pretend to be. I also know that you are fiercely protective of your father. It didn’t matter that I used to be a harlot, it could have been anyone trying to date him, you wouldn’t have liked them. And I also knew that… well, essentially buying your love would be the best way to show you that I am serious about being in your dad’s life.”

“Fuck, I’m a shitty person.” You sighed.

“No you’re not.” She said with a chuckle. “You’re just protective. That’s all. It’s all water under the bridge.” You nodded your head as Opie pulled out what looked like a black tent bag. “Oh! That’s a travel pack n play. I left the receipt in there in case you don’t like the design. It’s got some frilly bullshit on the bottom but it’s a cute teal color. There’s a matching sheet set in there somewhere, too.” She said as she got up to kneel on the floor beside you and the bag.

“This is too much.” You said with a shake of your head. “Thank you. Thank you both. From both of us.” Frankie looked up at you with a smile as Negan reached over to squeeze your knee while Opie thanked them both as well.

“It’s not to damn much.” He said with a smile. “It’s what you deserve.” You nodded your head as Opie set up the pack and play behind you.

“Not to bad.” He said as he tilted the travel crib away from him to look at the ruffle around the bottom.

“It’s a lot fucking better than some of the ones there.” Negan said with a nod as he got up to grab a beer from your fridge, knowing that you were going to want to open every single gift set to look at them all.

“What is this?” You asked as you moved down to the floor as well and pulled on a small but heavy lunchbox looking thing.

“That’s cool.” Frankie said as she moved from kneeling to sitting on the ground beside you. “It’s a solar powered freezer I found at the Walmart that can get plugged in as well so you can freeze or keep cold bags of breast milk, and water, and baby food or whatever. I read the fridges on the ships are kinda shitty.”

“Well, fuck me.” You laughed as you opened the lid to look at it while Opie pulled out packages of baby food spoons, pacifiers, and teething rings and toys. “Remind me to go shopping with you more often. I didn’t even know this shit existed!”

“You’re more than welcome to join.” She said with a giant smile as she glanced back at Negan. “I love shopping.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who’s ready to go cruising?” You asked your son as you unbuckled his carseat from your truck in the Disney Cruise ship parking lot. “Are you ready?” You cooed, receiving a smile, and some babbling and limb waiving in return.

“Babe.” Opie said beside you as he locked the brakes of your stroller beside you. You nodded at him and turned to latch the carseat into place as Negan started piling your “half a fucking million” bags on the ground.

“How the fuck did you pack so much shit?” He asked as he tossed his medium size duffle and Opie’s similar sized duffle on the ground. You looked up at him with your eyebrow raised as you pulled your diaper bag out of the back seat floorboard, and stuck it in the bottom of the stroller.

“You’re gunna ask that of two women and a baby? Really?” You teased as you held your hand out for the handle of your suitcase.

“Passports and tickets.” Frankie said as she came around the back of the truck, and held out your paperwork for you to take instead.

“Did you remember to grab the…”

“Signature papers, and the family release forms for Hunter.” Frankie finished for you as she handed you the copies of the paperwork from her folder just in case the electronic ones didn't work.

“Let’s go, ladies.” Negan said as Opie came around to grab your suitcase, and the duffle of everything you needed for Hunter.

“Look out, hun.” Opie said with a slight yawn as he moved the diaper bag to your shoulder to put the heavy cooler in the bottom basket.

“Happy honeymoon.” You said to him with a smile as he stood up and locked your pick up.

“Happy honeymoon.” He chuckled as he bent down to give you a chaste kiss. “Happy first vacation, little man. You gunna get on the boat? Yea? We’re going on the boat, buddy!”

“Keep talking about it in the parking lot, and the fucker’s just gunna leave you here.” Negan said as he waited for you at the checked bag cart.

“Language.” Frankie hissed at him when he got a glare from the cast member stacking up suitcases.

“Please excuse my father.” You said as you stopped beside the cart with a small, apologetic smile. “We don’t let him leave the basement often.” The man looked nearly horrified as he took the last bag from Opie, who shook his head.

“Ignore both of them.” He sighed. “I’m sorry. We’re a sane family, I promise.”

“No, we’re not.” You and Frankie said simultaneously as you headed toward the crosswalk to go get yourselves checked in and on board. Your son was enthralled with every single color and noise around him; absolutely loving all the little peeks into the stroller, and the baby talk he was getting from everyone in the boarding area. He surprisingly didn't mind the picture with Mickey but he was not a fan of the metal grated ramp leading up to the boat.

“It’s too bumpy for him.” You responded over Hunter’s screams to Opie’s questioning look as you stopped the stroller to pick him up. “Say, tell Daddy you don’t like it.”

“You’re gunna effin’ spoil that baby.” Negan said over shoulder as he kept walking, only a little slower so you could catch up.

“Not your child.” You said as you put your son on your hip, and smiled at him. “See, all better. Yea, all better.”

“You think he’s going to have a problem with sea sickness?” Opie asked as he took the diaper bag off your shoulder and put it in the car seat.

“Well, I brought that sea sickness stuff for him.” You reminded him with a small shrug. “But let’s just pray for the best?” He nodded his head as you paused behind another family at the ship’s main doors. Your dad and Frankie went first, grabbing your phone for you so they could get a photo for you starting your honeymoon. You laughed a bit when Hunter startled at the announcer welcoming ‘the Winston family’ over the ship’s PA, and smiled at him when he laughed at the cast members clapping.

His adorable laugh continued as your group took the elevators up to the pool deck, thanks to your husband playing peek-a-boo with the two room keys hanging around his neck. You could see your father trying so hard to keep his hard, biker personality up but he couldn’t help but huff a laugh when your six foot four, big bad biker husband started making the most ridiculous noise just to keep his little boy laughing.

“Oh look! Perfect!” Frankie said as she pointed to a pair of deck chair half in the shade a little ways down the deck on the opposite side. “They’ll be more and more shaded by that thing as the day goes on.”

“You’re right. Go, go!” You said as you gave her a little push and walked quickly after her to snag the shaded chairs you had purposely picked an early boarding time to get. You were actually surprised you were able to grab such good lounge chairs, right at the end of the row, and close to the ‘Nemo’s Reef’ splash zone Hunter would be able to go in.

“Sunscreen for him before anything else.” Opie said as you sat down on the end seat with Hunter in your lap.

“Diaper bag.” When the bag was handed to you, you sat your son on the chair between your legs, and pulled off your sundress so you could start your summer tan in one of your many ‘bride’ bikini’s. The giant bottle of baby sunscreen came next as Opie pulled off the Disney shirt Hunter had on, and traded that one for a rash guard and a swim diaper.

“Give me one of your room cards.” Negan said as Ope started to slather on sunscreen, while you set up the changing pad. “I’ll put this shit up…”

“Dad, we can do it.” You said as you looked up at him. He shook his head as he dropped Frankie’s carryon bag from his shoulder on the stroller.

“You’re on your honeymoon, princess. Besides, I need a fucking beer, and a fucking smoke if I’m gunna make it through the next seven days.”

“Don’t sound so cheerful, baby.” Frankie giggled as she laid down on the chair beside you in a semi-revealing bathing suit that seriously toed the line of being decent.

“Smoking is one deck up.” You said as you pulled Hunter’s clean swim diaper into place, and tossed the dirty one in a grocery bag to throw out. “And I will love you forever and ever if you find me a drink menu on your way back.” You said as you looked up your dad with a smile.

“Brat.” He groaned as he kicked the brakes on your stroller and grabbed the key card from Opie and the trash bag from the floor. You yelled after him that you loved him too as Opie sat down on the chair at your feet and pulled off his shirt.

“Happy honeymoon, baby.” He said with a smile as he rubbed your ankle.

“Happy honeymoon.”

——

“And he’s out.” Opie chuckled not two seconds after he laid Hunter down in his travel crib. “Damn, kid. Mommy tuckered you out.”

“He’s not use to that kind of excitement.” You laughed as you started the long process of unpacking two suitcases of clothes, and the seemingly endless duffle of Hunter’s stuff. “Sun, pictures, the little water park. So much excitement for my little guy.”

“So much excitement for your big guy, too.” He said as he kicked off the flip flops you had forced him to buy and laid down on the bed. He groaned and rolled over on his stomach. “Fuck, this is perfect.”

“You could always help me unpack.” You said in a sing song voice as you carried all the bathroom products and the bathroom bags in the bathroom so they were out of the way. You barely heard Opie mumble something back as you unpacked the bags on the counter and by the time you stepped back into the room, Opie was passed out as well.

“Of course you’re asleep.” You sighed over his snoring as you shook your head. With a huff, you put the empty bathroom bags in your husband’s empty suitcase and pushed it under the bed with yours with your foot. You turned to finish unpacking Hunter’s stuff, when there was a soft knock on your door. You glanced over to make sure neither of your boys woke up before you tiptoed over to the door to answer it.

“Your dad fell asleep.” Frankie sighed.

“So did my husband.” You said as you stepped back into the room. “And my son.”

“Didn’t we drink more than both of them?” She asked softly as she stepped into your room so you could close the door.

“Yea, exactly.” You agreed as you pointed to the bag on the floor. “Help me then we’ll go up stairs for a smoke?” She nodded her head and walked over to give you a had. With both of you working, it was done in a matter of a couple minutes, so you grabbed your cigarettes, sunglasses, and your phone, whisper yelled to Ope that you were leaving (getting a muffled ‘k’ in response), and grabbed your room key from the light panel by the door on your way out.

“My dad really passed out?” You finally laughed as the two of you walked down the hall to the elevators. “He never takes naps.”

“Turned on the TV and was out in a second. But you gotta figure, both of them shared the ten hour drive to Port Canaveral, and we left at one AM to get here on time.” She pointed out as you stepped into the elevator. “We slept the whole way. They stayed up all night packing the truck, then spent the last three hours in the sun.”

“This is true.” You said with a nod as you stepped out on the twelfth floor, and headed toward the smoking area overlooking the pool. “So we let them sleep a while. We don’t have to be at dinner until 5:45.”

“More drinking time for us.” Frankie giggled as you both leaned against the rail, and lit a cigarette. You nodded slowly in agreement as you looked over the rail a ways in front of you at the Mickey pool below you with a small smile.

“Thank you.” You said with a glance over at your new-ish friend. “Thanks for talking him into this…”

“Oh, this wasn’t me.” She said with a shake of his head. “I suggested the beach somewhere. He’s the one that said Disney World.” You smarted a bit and turned to look at her as she took a drag of her cigarette. “Yea. His suggestion. But I knew sending you to Disney right after your wedding with a month old baby was a suicide trip. You wouldn’t have had fun, Hunter could have gotten sick being that young.” She shook her head as she ashed in one of the ashtrays on a nearby table.

“Not good. So we went with a combination of the two ideas. Disney plus the beach equals Disney cruise. We didn’t have a choice but to wait until Hunter was six months because we knew there was no way you would leave him for the first time for a week long over night trip, and he couldn’t get on the boat until he was six months old. So that meant baby on a cruise ship for a honeymoon. Not ideal but doable. But since our two year anniversary is in a few days…”

“Wait, two year?” You said as you tilted your head the slightest bit. “Not one?” A small smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she held out the ashtray out for you.

“Two.” She repeated as she looked down at the cigarette she was slowly putting out. “Negan didn’t want to tell you at first. Let you get used to the idea that we were sleeping together before he told you we were dating. He didn’t…” Her brow furrowed as she set the ashtray down for a moment and grabbed another cigarette from her pack. “We didn’t want you to think I was trying to replace your mother.”

“I don’t mean to be rude.” You said as you shrugged your shoulders. “But you could never replace her. It’s impossible. But you’re right. I wasn’t keen on the idea of my dad dating. For years I was his little girl. His one and only, and his pride and joy. I always thought him dating would make me secondary in his life. But I guess I couldn’t have been more wrong. That’s even more obvious now that you guys are celebrating two years. And I guess I needed Opie to see that… and I needed you to show me that it was possible for him to fall in love again and not turn his back on his daughter.” You sighed and looked away from her as tears welled in your eyes. “Has my dad told you about Kelly?” Frankie stayed quiet as she pulled out a chair of the table you were standing by, and sat down.

“I… umm…” She whispered as she curled into herself on the chair. “I found a letter… from your mom. He just said she was the biggest fucking mistake he ever made.” You nodded your head, and sat down at the table on your other side with a sigh.

“It was before my mom got sick.” You said softly as you lit another cigarette off the last. “She was a harlot. His road bitch is what my mom called her.” You shook your head as the memories came back to you since you had opened the flood gate doors. “For a whole year, he spent a whole lotta fucking time on the road. Mom and I, we were just… forgotten. Until his precious Lucille got sick. He had some kind of epiphany then. I just…” You shook your head as a few tears fell from your eyes and landed on your thighs.

“You thought he’d do the same thing again.” She said softly.

“I think I always will, you know?” You choked as you wiped at your tears angrily and looked over at her through your sunglasses. “That’s not something you just forget. I was only eleven.”

“It’s not an easy thing to forget, sweetheart.” She said as she reached out and gently laid her hand on your knee. “But I can promise you, at least from my part, I will never, ever let him turn his back on you.”

“I know.” You said as you nodded your head. “He knows better now. We went through a real rough patch for a few years and I even moved to Alexandria for a few months to live with Rick and Michonne. We both said some pretty shitty things to each other… until we both almost died. Run gone bad, I was in the cross fire, wrong place wrong time. My dad risked his life, and that fucker, Dwight saved us both.” You smirked and sat back in your chair with a sigh. “Guess I can be grateful that asshat wanted to be at the table so bad. Negan almost lost his daughter and I almost lost my dad.” You looked over at her with a half shrug. “He saved our family. And I can’t lose my daddy again.”

“You won’t.” Frankie said with a cocky smile. “As your possible future step-mother I won’t allow it.”

“Oh, God shut up!” You laughed as you pushed her shoulder, playfully before grabbing yet another cigarette. “But you don’t know that story.” You said around the butt as she lit another cigarette as well.

“What story?” She asked as she kicked her feet up over the side of the chair like she owned the place.

“Smart girl.” You said as you turned your chair enough to put your feet up on hers. “So, two years…?”

“Two very interesting years.” She chuckled with a nod as she flagged down a waiter that was sort of wandering aimlessly, looking for someone to help. “Two of those Pomegranate Passion champagne thingys, please.”

“It’s happy hour, miss.” He said as he took her room card. “Buy one get one free for the next fifteen minutes today.”

“Then by all means bring us each the happy hour special!” She cheered as she kicked her feet in joy. He nodded his head, and passed her back her room card with a smile.

“We’re gunna be in so much trouble.” You laughed as you ashed your cigarette in the ashtray.

“So worth it.” She said with a nod.

Part 8

#opie winston x reader #opie x reader #Star Crossed Rivalry #SOA/TWD Crossover

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pickeringawd · 6 years

Text

TITLE — spider webs & first encounters. WARNINGS — none. WORD COUNT — 550 words. AUTHOR’S NOTE — my writing thrives during the holidays, it seems. happy halloween !

"More spider webs on the bushes, Mom." You stand in front of her, motioning with your hand the areas in need of more webbing.

The pathway leading up to the front door is littered with carved pumpkins and grotesque insects. The front yard is haunted by the presence of tombstones, brittle skeletons, and the disfigured limbs of zombies.

"How's this?" She asks.

"Great," you beam. "Everything looks great, Mom." She joins you by the sidewalk and rounds an arm around your shoulders, praising the day's work.

"We'll light it all up after dinner. Speaking of, I'll go see if your father needs a hand in the kitchen."

Pulling your phone out, you decide the document the moment and share the pictures with friends. It leads to silly exchanges of pet pictures in adorable Halloween costumes in the group chat.

"Great decor, neighbour."

You turn around at the voice. It's the boy next door. He's situated across the street and he seems to be emptying his recycling bin.

"Back at ya, neighbour." His house stands out. You'll give him that. However, his decoration skills don't surpass yours. Not in the slightest. He can claim second place, for sure.

"Yeah," he muses, staring back at his house. "What can I say? We Mendes love the holidays."

Mendes must be his last name. You've seen him around the neighbourhood a couple of times and in the hallways at school but you've never said more than two words to him.

"Is that so?" You interject, taking a few steps forward. "Not enough to put in more effort, it seems. We were the talk of town last year."

"It was just a bad case of Shiny New Toy Syndrome. They've gotten over it." He crosses the street and plants himself in front of you. "Before your arrival, we consistently placed number one. For Halloween, Christmas, Easter... You name it."

You pocket your phone and stare up at him. "Even Michael Jordan had to retire."

He laughs heartily and extends a hand in greeting. "I'm Shawn, by the way."

"Y/N."

"I know."

Before either of you can say another word, your dad steps out onto the porch, kitchen apron fastened around him and all, and calls out your name. "I'll see you around."

You're watching Get Out in the dark, wrapped in a thick blanket. The house is quiet, your parents having gone out for the night, leaving you to tend to the trick-or-treaters. As the doorbell rings, you grab the bowl of candy and drag your feet to the front door.

"Trick or treat."

It's the boy next door. He's dressed as Jim Stark from Rebel Without a Cause.

"Aren't you a bit old to be trick-or-treating?"

He smiles, big and wide. "Going to a Halloween party. I thought maybe you'd wanna tag along."

"Are you asking me out?"

"I guess I am. I mean, it's the right thing to do. After all, I'll be stealing the title of Best-Decorated-House from you tomorrow, so. Well, taking it back, more like."

It’s your turn to smile. "Bold statement. Brave enough to bet on it?"

He extends his hand once more and you shake it. His hand is firm but warm. "Loser buys dinner on our next date."

"Next date, huh? Already?"

"Next week?"

Your smile widens and you nod. "Uh, come in." He steps in as you widen the door. "I probably have an old costume somewhere upstairs. You can wait for me in the living room, I won’t be long. Get Out is playing on TV."

#anyone else just stayed home and watched tv????#that ending SNDJDJ #i didn't know how to end it #shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes fluff #title: spider webs & first encounters

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fix-it-feesh · 6 years

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I’m currently working on two other fics at the moment, but this one wouldn’t leave me alone today. I figured it might be nice to dip back into the Hero’s Cuties AU, especially around this time of year~ For those of you who might not be familiar with the AU (looking at YOU, new followers! :DD), it’s set in the real world and not in the arcade/video game universe.

Without further ado, my lovelies, I present some holiday-themed fluff starring our favorite fixer and his gorgeous gal. ❤

It doesn’t matter if a holiday is involved or not. Felix never passes up an opportunity to jazz things up somehow. For Halloween that included tons of candy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a trip to a hokey haunted house attraction. She should have expected that he would try to do the same thing around Christmastime.

- - -

“How’s that coffee tastin’, hon?”

Tamora waits until she’s finished drinking and lowers the festive cup away from her mouth. “Like overpriced, commercialized consumerism,” she deadpans.

Felix, who was expecting a different answer entirely, glances down at his own cup in confusion. They’re not really the type of people to have hot beverages outside of their cozy apartments, but it’s a chilly morning and they’re out and about in town. It just felt right to stop by the local Starbucks and start their day with warm, happy tummies.

When it becomes clear that Felix is thinking too much on what she said, Tamora rephrases her previous statement into a less sarcastic set of words. “It’s decent.”

That perks Mr. Sunshine and Daisies right up. “Glad to hear it!”

He goes for another sip of his lidless hot chocolate, and when he pulls away there’s a patch of whipped cream on the end of his nose. It’s so painfully childlike (and cute) that Tamora is absolutely unable to leave it where it is.

Rather than wipe it away with her coat sleeve or a napkin, she motions him closer, leans across the small table, and brushes her lips against the rounded end of Felix’s nose, clearing it of the spot.

Felix squeaks in surprise, and by the time Tamora pulls away he’s blushing a bright and rosy red. She sure ain’t shy when it comes to public displays of affection, and while that’s something he’s come to know over the course of their relationship, it’s still a bit startling when she just goes for it all willy-nilly and unabashed.

“You’re welcome,” Tamora says, nodding down at Felix’s hot chocolate.

He takes the cue and looks down at it as well, seeing the indent he made in the whipped cream. Doesn’t take a lot of common sense to figure out what happened from there (whoops). Just as Felix goes to thank her for cleaning him up, Tamora breezes into the next topic as abruptly as she always does.

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Well,” Felix starts, holding his cup between his hands. “I thought we could have ourselves a look at some of the decorations they got set up around here. It’s our first Christmas together, so I wanna make sure it’s extra special for us.”

Of course you do, Tamora thinks. It doesn’t matter if a holiday is involved or not. Felix never passes up an opportunity to jazz things up somehow. For Halloween that included tons of candy, a homemade pumpkin pie, and a trip to a hokey haunted house attraction. She should have expected that he would try to do the same thing around Christmastime.

“And then, dependin’ on how long we stay out, maybe we can head on over to that indoor ice skatin’ rink,” Felix continues. He takes a second to rub at the back of his neck when a sheepish thought occurs to him. “Eee-ooh-boy. I haven’t ice skated in years. I’m probably a little rusty.”

Tamora shrugs and goes back to drinking her coffee. “That’s longer than I have. I’ve never been.”

Felix shields a surprised (and slightly scandalized) gasp behind his hand. “Never? Oh my land, Tammy. We gotta fix that! It’s a little tricky at first, I’ll admit, but once you get the hang of it it’s pretty fun.”

Tamora mulls over what Felix said. Ice skating isn’t something she planned on doing—that day or ever, really—but Felix looks so hopeful, and so eager, and—yup. They’re going ice skating.

“You talked me into it,” she concedes, just as he takes her hand in his. “There’s just one condition.”

Felix brings Tamora’s slender fingers to his lips and kisses the back of them tenderly; his blue eyes are practically overflowing with adoration as he asks: “What’s that now?”

“If I go down,” Tamora tells him, grabbing the end of his chin. “You’re going down with me.”

—

Luckily for them the ice skating rink isn’t very busy when they get there later that afternoon. There’s a few families, a small group of teenagers, and two or three couples. Felix makes sure to lace up Tamora’s skates for her nice and tightly, so that she questions whether or not they’re actually cutting off the circulation in her ankles. She waits for him to do the same to his own skates, and once they’re both good to go Felix stands up and looks down at her.

His cheeks and ears are flushed from the cold, and his blue argyle sweater is the epitome of dorky, but Tamora has never loved someone so fiercely or deeply.

“Ready, sweet pea?” he asks, holding out his hand.

Tamora takes it firmly. “Let’s do this.”

Standing up with the skates on isn’t so bad, but walking on the thin blades is definitely weird and disorientating. Tamora does her best not to wobble as she and Felix make their way to the rink. Felix steps onto the ice first, and before she can do the same he politely suggests:

“Tell you what. Let me get a feel for this again, and then I’ll come back to help you. Okay? That way there’s less of a chance of the both of us fallin’ all over creation.”

Temporarily leaving her, Felix glides onto the ice and tries to remember the basics. Tamora watches as he takes smaller, careful strides around the rink until they become longer and more confident. So much for being ‘rusty’. The guy’s a natural.

Felix waves to her as he passes by a second time, and when he comes back around he’s ready to show her the ropes. “My lady,” he proclaims, reaching for her hand again.

Tamora takes it and steps onto the ice as gracefully as she can (which isn’t very gracefully at all, because that’s just not the kind of person she is). Not being in control is something she’s never liked, which explains why she immediately grips the barrier when her feet start to slide sideways without her consent.

“It’s alright,” Felix reassures gently, encouragingly. “You’re doing great, honest! Just take it nice an’ slow. We’re not in any hurry.”

They might not be in a hurry, but it seems like everyone around them is (especially the little kid who keeps weaving through the other skaters without a care in the world). Tamora tries to ignore the youngster as she moves with Felix along the edge of the rink. When she feels like she isn’t going to fall on her face and eat ice, she slowly lets go of the barrier and lets her arm extend out to make up for her lack of balance.

“There we go!” Felix praises, pleased as punch that Tamora is catching onto ice skating so quickly. He knew that she would.

By the time they’re halfway around the rink Tamora reels in her arm and tries not to look down at her skates as she moves forward; her hand has yet to unclasp itself from Felix’s, but it has loosened from the death grip she originally had on it. Ice skating isn’t crazy difficult, but she’s not sure if she’d make it a regular thing. Not unless Felix was really itching to go for whatever reason.

They complete their first lap, and then a second, before Felix figures that a short break might be good since it’s Tamora’s first time and he doesn’t want her to overdo it. He leads them back over to the entrance and towards the bench they’d occupied when they were lacing up their skates. Sitting down, Felix turns to Tamora eagerly.

“Now you can say that you’ve ice skated,” he states, and then presses on, “golly, I feel honored that it was with me. Makes me feel kinda special that I got to experience it with you.”

Tamora doesn’t think it’s a huge deal, but she humors Felix and his big, soft heart anyway; it’s hard not to when he wears it on his sleeve, open and vulnerable for the world to see. She wants to protect it. She wants to protect him.

“You’re not a bad teacher,” she points out, watching as Felix’s already flushed cheeks darken to a bashful shade.

“All in a day’s work, ma’am,” he laughs, scooting a closer to her on the bench. When he can reach without craning over too much, he kisses Tamora on the lips sweetly. “I’m real excited to spend the holidays with you, Tammy.”

It’s been one hell of a year—for the both of them, honestly—and it could be something they need. Felix seems to think so, but then again he thinks a lot of things. Tamora considers this as she reaches for Felix’s sweater collar and reels him in for another kiss - one that lasts longer and makes Felix see stars when they eventually pull apart.

#hero's cuties #hero's cuties au #wreck it ralph #sergeant calhoun #fix it felix #feesh fics

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thejollyroger-writer · 6 years

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Tricks & Treats

Art by: @branlovesouat - which is perfect and excellent and perfectly captures parts of this story. The way Emma and Killian are looking at each other, the smiles on Henry and Alice’s faces--it’s just perfect!

Author: flamboyantanaconda surprise, it’s me!! I absolutely loved being part of this event and getting to share this story with everyone in a blind date format for the first time ever. The story started out as a tiny little one-shot, and then everyone started having feelings and very emotional back stories and suddenly turned into y favorite thing I’ve ever written. Thanks to the mods for putting this perfect event together and helping us spread our love of Captain Swan!

Rated G—general audiences. Just a cute, fluffy Halloween-themed one-shot

Wanna read me on AO3 instead?

SUMMARY:

This will be Alice Jones’ first Halloween since moving to Storybrooke from England, and spending time with Henry Swan is the only positive she can see in joining the Storybrooke Elementary tradition of trick-or-treating together, but the only way she will go is if he father, retired soccer player Killian Jones, agrees to come with her. Because Killian will do anything for his daughter, he finds himself at Henry Swan’s front door dressed in his old pirate costume—but the blonde witch that he meets makes up for any embarrassment he may have felt. Will the Jones family’s first Halloween in Storybrooke be filled with tricks, or treats?

“Please, papa,” she pleads, sitting in front of him on the floor as he brushes her hair. “I told Henry that I would go with him, but I’m scared. What if I do it wrong? The girls in the class already don’t like me, and this would just give them a reason to be meaner.”

Killian can’t help but let out the small laugh that fills his chest with Alice’s statement. “Listen, starfish, I know you’re nervous, but I’m fairly sure that there’s not a wrong way to trick-or-treat.”

“Well, if there is, surely I would be the one to learn it the hard way!”

“Alice, darling, all you need to do is to ask your friend Henry. After everything you have told me about him, I feel confident that he will give you any assistance you may need, and will probably even do so before we leave his house.”

“But what if he doesn’t?! What if he just—just assumes that I know what I’m doing, doesn’t even stop to think that I’ve never done this before, and then I’ll embarrass myself in front of him! Oh! , I wouldn’t be able to get over that! I would never be able to leave the house ever again!”

“You should never be too embarrassed to ask for help, especially from a boy as charming and understanding as this Henry of yours.”

She whips her head around to face him, almost taking the hairbrush with her, and when her bright blue eyes meet his, they are filled with excitement, adventure and… something else that Killian cannot quite place.

“You should just come with me, papa! I know you still have that pirate costume that you would wear with the team for Halloween visits. I’ve seen it in your closet! You could just put on your costume, and come with me to Henry’s, make sure I don’t make a complete fool of myself, and then—and then I’ll have a reason not to go to Gina’s Halloween party!”

“I thought you already told Henry that you would go with him to the party?”

But Alice ignores his question, her words already flying from her at a mile a minute. “Who holds a party every Halloween, anyway? And why does it have to be the mayor’s daughter? The mayor’s daughter, who she named after herself, by the way! And what do they do when Halloween isn’t on a Friday? When it’s on a school night? Or a Sunday night? Because everyone knows they’re the worst nights to stay up late since nobody ever wants to get up on Monday, after being able to sleep in the two days beforehand.” She pushes herself up off the floor, straightens out the white apron tied over her light blue dress, and begins pacing in front of him. “And, yes, I did already tell Henry that I would go with him to this party, but that doesn’t mean I have to! I am only ten years old, so I shouldn’t be expected to keep every promise I make, but I know that it would be so much better if you came with me! At least to Henry’s, and to the first few houses until I get the hang of what it is I’m supposed to do!” She turns to him to see him smiling up at her from his position on the floor, and huffs, a frown taking over her very expressive face. “Come on, papa! I don’t see how this is funny.”

If he was completely honest with himself, Killian would agree that he, too, does not know why it’s funny. Because, of course, his daughter is the most important thing in his life, and damned if he wouldn’t do anything for her.

Even if that means pulling the pirate costume out of the back of his closet, reliving the days when he and the rest of the team would don these ridiculous outfits and visit the children’s hospital.

Back when he was part of something, part of a team.

Back when he was a whole man.

Back before the accident.

In place of his prosthetic hand, he slides the hook over the stump of his left arm, a gift, half-joke, half-serious, from his best friend and starting forward, Will Scarlett, perhaps the only player on the team that was more of a star than he was. Running his fingers over the cool metal, he can almost hear Will’s voice as he opened the package: “Now Captain Jones can be Captain Hook!” Will thought it was the funniest thing he’d ever said, but the rest of the team didn’t quite agree, though Killian couldn’t help but laugh.

That was the day he decided to retire, especially making his rounds and trying to play other positions, obviously no longer able to be the goalie he has spent his career working to be. After Liam was injured on his deployment, then losing his Milah in the same accident that took his hand, the team was the only thing keeping him in England. The very next day, he and Alice sat down and made a list of the things they want from their next adventure, their next home.

That was the first leg of the journey that started two years ago and led them to Storybrooke, Maine.

Seeing him standing in front of the mirror, completely costumed from head to hook, Alice lets out a squeal of delight. “Papa, look at you! You even found the hook from Uncle Will!”

Repressing the memories that the costume brought up, he turns around her and smiles. “You like it, starfish?”

“Of course I do, papa!” she squeals again, wrapping her arms around his waist, proving to him that every moment he spends in this outfit tonight is completely worth it.

“Are you sure this is the house, love?” Killian asks, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He has no idea why he is as nervous as he seems to be, but he can feel his heart pounding in his chest, hear it in his ears.

“This is where Henry told me he lived,” she says, her voice small from the passenger seat next to him, and when he turns to face her, he watches as he wrings her hands in her lap. “But it—it doesn’t look like anyone’s home…”

Killian had seen his daughter upset before—because of course he had, she’s ten years old and gets upset. But this is a whole new level of upset to him, skipping straight over crying right to shaking, seeing himself in her more and more. Because he, too, is fuming, angry that anyone would have the audacity to treat his Alice like this. From the rest of the stories she had told him about this Henry, he seemed like a nice, polite boy—but anyone that pulls a stunt like this, letting her get excited just to let her down, is neither nice nor polite.

“Alice, dear,” he starts, definitely not looking forward to breaking her heart, but before he can continue, they hear the door to the house across the street slam shut, followed by the voice of a young boy screaming Alice’s name.

“Henry!” Alice almost does not get the word out before she is out of the car, rushing across the street to where the young boy in a knight’s costume meets her, wrapping his arms around her in a soft hug.

“Thank the Lord,” Killian breathes, shutting off his engine before climbing out of the Chevelle.

“Papa, papa, meet Henry!”

He looks exactly like Killian thought a ten-year-old named Henry should look, with dark eyes and a mop of dark brown hair and cheeks just chubby enough to still be classified as cute.

“Henry, my boy! How nice to finally meet you. You know, lad, I’ve heard so much about you through my Alice.”

“It really is nice to meet you, too, Mr. Jones.”

“Henry!” He hears her voice from the porch, and it is the first time he really takes in just how extremely decked out the house is, like Christmas turned orange. Orange lights line the porch, the roof, the windows, with lit-up Jack-o-lanterns lining the walkway and the wooden porch. But the kicker, the real central piece of the whole ensemble is a large, blow-up vampire Mickey Mouse, centered in the front yard.

But as soon as she pushes through the large wooden door out onto the porch, Killian’s attention is no longer on the decorations. She is, without a doubt, and without any nods to the cliche, the most beautiful woman Killian had ever seen, even dressed as a witch, with a knee-length black dress, black-and-white striped tights, and even the pointed witch hat. The lights from the porch, both the regular and the string of bright orange ones, accentuate the curls falling over her shoulders, brighten every contour of her perfect face.

“Henry, please get out of the middle of the street!” she calls again, crossing her arms over her chest, and then realizes that, though her ten-year-old is in the middle of the street, he is not alone, and Killian corrals them back onto the decor-covered lawn, then makes his own way to the porch.

“Sorry, love,” he says, his voice soft, and he is thankful for the cover of darkness, for he feels the heat rising to the tips of his ears. “You know how ten-year-olds love to play in the street.”

When she smiles at him, illuminated by the harsh lights of the porch and the holiday, he can swear he feels his heart stop beating, even if only for a moment or two.

“Well, of course. They wouldn’t be children if they played anywhere else.”

When he is almost face-to-face with her, standing on the sidewalk while she is on the step, he feels her eyes really take him in, head-to-toe; but Killian Jones is nothing if not a gentleman, and as much as he wants to let the urge to do the same to her, his eyes stay locked on her face, even when momentarily covered by the brim of her witch’s hat.

“You must be Alice’s dad,” she says finally, her eyes meeting his again, eyes that sparkle the brightest emerald green he has ever seen, even in the orange lights of Halloween. “Mister Jones?”

“Please, love, call me Killian. You’re Henry’s mother, then? Ms. Swan?”

“If you’re going to call me anything, then call me Emma, because I am not your love.”

This time, when the heat rises to his cheeks, he hopes the orange lights of the porch cover for him, though somehow he feels it does not.

“Of course, Miss Swan. I meant no harm.”

The smile she flashes him this time is less authentic than the first one, and he wishes more than anything that he had not offended her so quickly, starting off on the wrong foot. “Of course not.”

He is dumbfounded, unsure of what to say next in hopes of never, ever, insulting her again, and the silence in the conversation is heading towards awkward before it is perfectly saved by the curious ten-year-olds, specifically Henry.

“Mr. Jones!” he yells excitedly, running up to him through the yard, though his movement is slightly awkward, weighed down by the plastic armour of his costume. “Your costume is so cool! You look like a real pirate!”

“Well, thank you, lad. It better look bloody real, with all the money I spent on it.”

“Did you buy it just for tonight?”

“No, no, I bought it in England, when the team and I used to visit the children’s hospital for Halloween. I’m assuming Alice has told you what I did in England?”

“Goalie on the Chelsea team! That’s so cool!” Even with his excitement, taking in the detail on Killian’s costume, the stitching in the leather and embroidery on the vest, Killian doesn’t miss when his eyes stop on the hook for more than a few moments, and the soft intrigue in his eyes when they meet his again. “But what about your hook? She told me about—about your hand, but is the hook where you put the fake one? And how did it happen?”

Killian opens his mouth to speak, ready to tell the same story he used to tell the children at the hospital, and at the games, when they asked him the very same question, but Emma beats him to it, yelling out to her son before Killian can even begin.

“Henry David Swan! You do not ask people questions like that! Apologize to him, right now!”

He wants to correct her, assure her that Henry asking him is far from a problem for him, but he has already gone too far once; he does not want to add to it by going back on her yelling at her son. So, instead, he waits for Henry’s apology, given softly from a truly embarrassed ten-year-old, before turning around to Emma and offering her a soft smile.

“I appreciate your apology, lad, but you’re definitely not the first young man to ask me about my injury.” He leans down, finding himself on his level. “However, it is only to the most polite of boys that I tell the real story of what happened, because there’s a not-so-noble knight involved, and I don’t very much like reliving the tale unless they’re asked very, very nicely.”

Henry’s eyes go wide, a smile growing to take over his face, and he almost begins jumping up and down when he pleads, “Please, Mr. Jones! Please, please, please!”

Killian stands up again, searching for Emma out of the corner of his eye, and he is pleased to find that the scowl on her face has grown to the beginnings of a smile as he starts the story that he has not told since he moved to America..

“About two years ago when I was playing in England, I got into this argument with a gentleman after one of the games. And I thought we had settled the whole thing—looking back, I don’t even remember what the argument was about, that’s how trivial the whole thing was—until one day, he showed up to my practice dressed all in armour, very much like yours, except his was made of metal, of course. He approaches me on the sidelines and draws a very, very large sword. Now, thankfully, I decided to also bring my sword with me to practice that day, or else he may have ended up taking more than just my hand from me. He approaches me on the field, stops the entire practice to do so, and challenges me to a fight, a move which is rather unfair, given I’m in my football uniform and not a full suit of armour like he is, but little does he know that I am actually a talented and practiced swordsman. So we spar, a process that begins to take over the whole field. He advances on me, I parry back and take the lead again, over and over, back and forth, for what feels like hours. And then, of all things, I wind up right on top of the ball and it catches under feet, and I fall over it, right to the ground. I think, oh no, this is going to be the end! I hold up my sword, trying to block the blow I know he is going to deliver, but the bugger misses my sword and hits me straight on the wrist, cuts it clean off! I thought he was going to take the final blow, take his revenge on whatever argument we had a few days before, but apparently taking my appendage from me is enough for him, because he sheaths his sword and walks right off the field, like nothing ever happened!”

Killian’s recalled this story to children of all ages in the two years since he found himself without a hand, but he is almost entirely sure that no child has ever reacted as strongly to it as Henry Swan does, eyes wide, tossing his toy sword aside as if it was poisoning his hand, or like it would make Killian relive the terror of losing his hand to an (albeit imaginary) sword fight.

No one speaks, not even Alice, who has heard his rendering at least a dozen times. She is smiling at Henry, as humored by his response as Killian is. Finally, it is Emma who breaks the awestruck silence of the yard.

“Well, kids, you better start soon if you want to get to all the houses before you have to be at the Mills house!”

Killian turns to Alice, still smiling at Henry. “She has a point, starfish. We should get ready to go.”

“We?” Henry asks, turning to Killian, obviously confused, and Alice sets her hand on Killian’s arm.

It is at this moment that Killian realizes the other emotion hidden in Alice’s eyes as they got ready to go: mischief.

“Actually, papa, I changed my mind. Henry and I can go together, and you can stay here with Miss Emma!”

Shaking his head at his daughter, far too smart to only be ten years old, he sighs deeply, letting out a short laugh. “Whatever you want, starfish.”

“Great! I’ll see you later, papa!” she says quickly, wrapping her arms around him in a brief hug before turning on her heel and practically running in the opposite direction, her arm linked with Henry’s.

Killian watches her walk away for as long as he can before she turns to head down the block and out of his sight. When his only distraction is finally out of his sight, he turns his eyes back to Emma, looking up at her through his eyelashes for just a moment as his hand shoots up to scratch the spot behind his right ear, and lets out a long, deep breath, trying to take as much time as he can before he has to speak to her.

“Well,” he says slowly, awkwardly, hitting his fist against the side of his leg. “If she—if she doesn’t want me to go with her anymore, I can… I guess I’ll just head home.”

His eyes find hers for another moment, quickly trying to find a reason to stay even though he just excused himself. They hold for a moment, neither of them daring to move even a muscle, but she breaks first as a slow, soft smile makes its way across her face.

“Alice is just going to come back here with Henry when she’s done, so if you want to—if you want to stay, help me hand out candy and drink beer by the fire, I, uh,” Her eyes meet his again, and her smile grows when he returns it. “I wouldn’t mind.”

His right hand scratches behind his ear again, pulling at the hair there that has gotten a little long. “Are you sure?”

She takes a step back, onto the porch, and opens the front door, gesturing for him to go inside before her. “Definitely.”

The inside of the house is just as decorated as the outside, and he wants to be surprised, but he finds that he’s not. The house is just as silent as the conversation between him and Emma, so he uses this as the opening thought, hoping it blossoms into more.

“So, Miss Swan, you must really enjoy Halloween then?” he asks with a chuckle, and when she turns around to face him, her face riddled with confusion, he gestures around him, to all of the Halloween decorations.

“Oh,” she says, smiling back at him through a particularly low purple spider web hanging down from a doorway. "This is my brother’s house, actually, and his wife.”

“So then your brother is the Halloween aficionado?”

“His wife. Mary Margaret, the kindergarten teacher. She’s a little….” her voice trails off, trying to find the right word.

“Eccentric?” Killian asks, smiling at her while she pulls two bottles of beer from the fridge, handing one to him.

She returns his smile. “Yeah, eccentric is a good word for it, actually. You think Halloween is a big deal, you should come back for Christmas.”

“Of course, love, I can imagine,” he comments, following her through a door that leads into the garage. Though it smells like it usually houses an old car, its normal occupant is gone, replaced instead with a… Killian’s brain even takes a moment to find the right word for it.

Halloween wonderland. The phrase he decides on is Halloween wonderland.

“I’m not your love,” she says again, this time more under her breath, and it completely ruins whatever rapport they have going on between them. He has to pay more attention to that.

If he thought the front yard was overkill, the garage has died twice over. The matte gray walls all covered— covered— floor to ceiling with orange, white, and purple spider webs, embellished with fake plastic spiders, bats, and pumpkins. The back wall has ghost silhouettes hiding within the webs, the wall farthest from the door lined with witches, plus a table covered with a dozen real, candlelit Jack o-lanterns. But, in the center of the room, lies the real focal point of the decor, almost enough to take anyone’s focus from the rest of the garage: a shining golden cauldron, at least five feet tall, with a solid bottom half and a grate around the top, plus a door to let users into the inside of it.

Or, Killian thinks, the most extreme overkill of a cauldron he has ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on. As he fills the space between himself and it, Emma opens the garage door, letting in the cold air of the October evening, revealing to Killian just how warm the garage has become. She turns to him in just enough time to watch him stretch his hand out toward the cauldron as he realizes why the garage is so warm: the cauldron is a fire ring—one which already was a small but heat-emitting fire churning in the bottom of it.

“I wouldn’t -” she starts, but he is already pulling his hand away, and when he turns to her with wide blazing blue eyes, she can’t help but let out a soft chuckle.

“ Bloody hell,” he mumbles, taking a step back to really take in what he is seeing before him.

“I told you, Jones, my sister-in-law really likes decorations.”

Nodding, his eyes are still wide and fixed on the cauldron. “I, uh… yes, I see that.” He lets out a breath, then takes a few sips of his beer, cringing as it before finally taking his eyes off the fire ring again.

“Help me with these chairs?” she asks, and when he turns to her, she is gesturing towards a pair of wooden rocking chairs, which were against the garage door and blended in before.

“Of course, love,” he answers, immediately damning himself for the use of the endearment. “I’ll lend you a hand.” He means nothing of the unintended pun, but as he lifts the arm of the chair with his hook, they both realize what he said and simultaneously let out a quick laugh. "Just one, though,” he adds, smiling across the chair at her. “That’s all I have to offer.”

“How often does that pun come up in real life?” she asks as they pick up the other chair, and when they set it back down, he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Surprisingly not as often as you may think. Or if it does, maybe I just miss the pun on a regular basis.”

Usually, he’s embarrassed by any mention of his deformity, because that’s all that it has become to him. But this exchange is the nicest conversation he’s ever had about it, and with the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid his eyes on — not to mention the nicest conversation that’s passed between the two of them since their children practically tackled each other in the middle of the street.

Sitting down next to him beside the fire, she smiles up at him again, her gaze passing through her eyelashes and the thick, warm air coming off from the fire, now that the wind from the street is pushing it their way. Which is what makes him realize…

“How is there no smoke?”

Her eyebrows knit together for a moment as she realizes just what his question is pertaining to, since his piercing blue gaze has not left hers since they took their seats. Together, they turn their attention towards the behemoth before them, and Emma looks at it as if it is the first time she has ever contemplated the question.

“I really…” she says finally, slowly, but then stops for a moment before continuing, pulling her bottom lip up under her teeth. “I really have no idea, to be completely honest.”

“Maybe it’s a trick then? A magic cauldron, if you will. That is what Halloween is all about then, is it not, love? Tricks and treats?”

Even though there is not even a drop of humor in his voice, when she turns back to him, he has the biggest, doofiest grin spread across his face, one that reaches up into the creases around his bright blue eyes.

He realizes that he’s done it again, called her love for the second time without any backlash from her.

That has to mean something.

When she smiles back at him, shaking her head in response to his joke, he really hopes it does, because the more genuine the smile on her face grows, the more strikingly beautiful she becomes. Usually, he can blame this problem on the rum, because the only time he runs into women as beautiful as Emma Swan are the few times his friends cross the ocean to visit him and he can drink somewhere other than the solace of his own basement.

But tonight, there is no rum. Only whatever godawful beer she handed him out of her brother’s fridge.

If there’s one thing that Killian Jones does not enjoy, it’s beer, especially whatever the hell passes as it here in America. But because he is nothing if not a gentleman, he drinks it without a second thought, if only because she handed it to him.

He can’t be attracted to Emma Swan. It is at this moment, with her smiling at him, rocking slowly next to him, somehow even more beautiful than the moment before, that he hears this from somewhere in the back of his mind.

And he realizes, as much as he seems to want to be attracted to her, he’s right. Alice has only just become friends with her son — the only damned friend she’s made so far here— and Killian would be beside himself if he did anything to compromise his daughter’s happiness, even if it means compromising his own.

Tone it back, he warns himself, before you do something you’re really going to regret.

But he doesn’t have to—a handful of young kids do it for him:

“Trick or treat!” Their first collection of visitors approaches them, running up the driveway and into the garage. Emma smiles at them for a moment, not poising herself to move, even as all their little eyes stare up at her, and it is not until Killian elbows her arm that she reacts.

“Shit, right,” she whispers, jumping up and running into the house, and he hopes he is the only one who heard her. Moments later, she returns with the large bowl of candy he remembers seeing inside the front door, plus the small table that it was sitting on. The five little kids—an astronaut, a dinosaur, two princesses, and a hot dog—rush up to her as soon as she sets down the table, causing her to take a quick step back with her hands in the air.

As they attack the bowl of candy—“Just two please,” she adds as one of them tries to shove a second fistful of candy into their little plastic jack-o-lantern—she walks around him, still sitting by the fire cauldron, and grabs a sign from under the pumpkin table, which she reveals to be a perfect handwritten bi-fold that reads “HELP YOURSELF! Only two each, please! Happy Halloween!” in three different fonts.

“Your handiwork, Swan?” he asks, chuckling at her as the children begin to walk away.

“Oh, god, no,” she says with a smile. “I could never make anything like that. That’s all Mary Margaret’s handiwork.”

“The kindergarten teacher, right?”

She nods, half-smiling at him. “Right.”

A silence passes between them again, and looking over at her, he feels like he’s going to tell her everything— everything —from Alice’s mother to Milah to the accident.

And, as soon as she asks the question she does, he bloody well just might: “So, what happened in England that made you move, if you don’t mind me asking?”

For some reason, he finds that he does not mind her asking, even a little bit, though his hand flies up to his ear to scratch the spot behind his ear. “Has your boy told you anything about what I did when I was there?”

She raises an eyebrow at him, shaking her head. “I didn’t even know he knew.”

“Oh, he knows. He’s a football fan, right?”

“Henry’s always been more into soccer, actually,” she replies, but when Killian laughs, she turns to him, her face brightening. “Right,” she says, accentuating the t at the end of the word, and he nods, smiling. After a moment, her eyes go wide, putting the pieces of their conversation together. “Wait, you were a professional soccer player?”

“Aye, love, that I was. And a bloody good one at that. ‘Best goalie in the league,’ some of the papers called me. Until…” he holds up the hook, releases the straps holding it on to reveal the stump hiding under the leather.

“An accident,” she says pointedly, reaching out and setting her hand on his arm again.

His eyes fly up to hers, and he is surprised to find them on his face and not on what is left of his arm, the part of him that people tend to not look away from when he reveals it to them.

“How did you know there was an accident?”

“Well, most people don’t purposefully lose their hands when their entire career depends on them.”

The corner of his mouth flicks up in a momentary smile. “That’s true, I suppose. But yes, there was an accident. It was—my brother was injured on his deployment and they wouldn’t tell me anything, and I got really emotional about it, drank much more than I ever should have and started to drive me and my girlfriend home when we were hit by a truck. It hit her side of the car, flipped twice and landed in a ditch. I was bruised and battered, a concussion, a few broken ribs, and a missing hand. But Milah… she didn’t make it. They said she probably died before the car even stopped moving. It was a miracle that I was alive, but there were parts of me that weren’t. I tried to recover, tried to get back into the game, into normal, everyday life, but I was too broken.”

“Was she Alice’s mother?”

His eyes flicker towards her again, but only for a moment. “No, no. Alice’s mother was… She decided to give her up for adoption after she was born, and we were no longer together by that point anyway, so I applied for sole custody and they granted it to me. Besides Milah, it’s always just been me and Alice. She has no memory of the woman who gave birth to her.”

“Oh, Killian,” she whispers, and he realizes that her hand has not left his arm. “I’m so sorry.”

At this moment, as kids are wont to do, an even larger group of teenagers, come up the driveway, searching for candy. “Trick or treat!” they yell, entirely less enthusiastic than the first crowd.

“Happy Halloween!” Emma says back, and Killian waves at them as they reach into the bowl for their candy. Even though there are at least ten of them, Killian does not fail to notice when only three of them say thank you.

Teenagers, he thinks, knowing the sentiment is less than fair, but then her question brings him back to the conversation they were having before they were interrupted.

“Then how did you end up here, in the middle of nowhere in Maine?”

Finally, he smiles, recalling how it happened. “I had enough saved up to take care of us for the rest of my life, so we really could go wherever we wanted. Alice said she always wanted to see America. So we bought a map and hung it on the wall, and we each closed our eyes and threw a dart at it. Mine landed in Montana, and hers landed here. I secretly didn’t want to go to Montana, so I told her we would play rock-paper-scissors for it, and she always—always—picks rock, so I picked scissors, and we started packing the next day and moved to Maine.”

“Do you regret it?”

He scoffs. “Regret it? Regret moving away from the pain and suffering and failure that I left in London? Regret moving to a town with the same population as the apartment complex Alice and I lived in? I don’t regret a single moment of it.”

She smiles at him. A soft, warm thing, the realest emotion she’s revealed to him since he got there.

“Trick or treat!” Three young girls, all dressed as Disney princesses, come up towards the house—and, unlike all of the teenagers, all three yell “thank you”’s into the garage before heading back down the driveway.

“Well, I for one am glad that you’ve found yourself here in the middle of nowhere,” she says once they are gone, voice soft, and as he practically feels his heart pound out of his chest, so loud that he’s pretty sure she can hear it, he realizes it’s too late.

He’s already started to fall for Emma Swan.

“As am I, love. But, you know, since my Alice and I have moved here at the beginning of the summer, she has only ever come home to me with stories about the other girls her age, about how mean they are to her because she’s different, and as much as we needed this new life here after…” He swallows quickly, washing it down with a mouthful of beer as he holds up his hook, still in his hand. “After everything, we almost went back. Because I would do that for my girl. I would do anything for her.

“When she came home from her first day of school, and I was ready for the worst. Ready for her to beg to move back to England. And then she burst through that door, and she had the biggest smile on her face. I thought I was going to melt, I was so happy for her. And do you know what she told me?”

Though his eyes have been set on a spot in the concrete in front of him, hers have not moved from him since he started talking, watching him intently, holding on to every word, but when he asks this question, pauses for a moment, her only response is a smile.

She knows.

“She told me that she has a new best friend. He—he stood up for her in front of the other mean girls and now they’re going to be friends forever. And that boy, he’s your boy.” As an emphasis of the your, he turns the bottom of the bottle in her direction, smiles at her again, and then takes another quick sip, finishing the bottle and setting it on the floor beside him, then setting the hook down next to it, rubbing the scars it was covering. “I’m thankful for that every day, because I’ve been the bullied kid, and I never want my Alice to have to go through that. So I don’t know what you did to that boy, but you did it well.”

Parents are a different kind of proud when it comes to their kid, a different kind of happy when they hear them complimented, especially so highly as Killian just did—and this is something that automatically reveals itself to be true to him when she smiles at him again, this one different than the others she’s flashed so far that night.

“Thank you, that really means a lot,” she continues. “I’ve always—I’ve always been a little worried about him, to be honest. His father was sort of a deadbeat, and I was always scared that he would end up like him. That’s why we moved back here when I learned I was having him, so that he would have someone like my brother to look up to instead of his father. At least David puts criminals in jail and has never wound up there himself.”

Killian is taken aback by her confession, though he supposes that’s what they’re doing now: confessing.

“Well, then, your brother must be a man of honor to have helped raise such a charming and kind boy. What does your brother do?”

“Oh, he’s the sheriff. Sheriff Nolan? Have you met him since you moved here?’

Killian lets out a breathy chuckle. “No, Swan, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the sheriff .” He emphasizes the last word, raising his eyebrows in the process, and it’s not until then that Emma realizes the tone of his words.

She touches him again, this time resting her hand on his lower arm, and the heat that surges through his body when she laughs is enough to power the whole neighborhood.

“Come on, Killian, you know that’s not what I meant!” she says, then laughs again, her face reddening enough to be noticeable in the weird Halloween light.

He may have stopped breathing. She called him Killian. She called him Killian and touched his arm.

Killian was in love before, once. Twice, maybe. But he has never before felt like this, all tied up and giddy and unable to put his words in the right order.

“David’s involved with a lot more around the town than just being the sheriff, so I was thinking—he’s not just in the police station, you know, so you’ve probably—you’ve probably seen him around town since you moved in and haven’t even realized it. I didn’t—of course, I didn’t mean… I would never think…” Her words trail off, and she takes a large mouthful of beer to fill the silence that Killian tries to desperately to keep, but fails. It is only a few moments before he bursts, erupting with laughter, and he is thankful when he hears her voice join his, the perfect harmony of them laughing together filling the garage.

It might just be the most beautiful sound he has ever seen, and he was a professional soccer player. A damn good one.

Their laughter dies down, stopped every moment or so while they meet each other’s eyes, and then it is gone.

Emma finishes her beer, smiling at him over the bottle before pushing herself up off the chair. “Do you want another? Or, I think I’ll switch to something stronger, I can’t stand this stuff, if you’re down for that.”

Killian has never been more thankful for a statement before.

Or, at least, he’s pretty sure he hasn’t.

He smiles at her, standing up and taking the bottle off the ground next to him.

“I would love something stronger. I’ve never been particularly taken by beer, and that was in England.”

Smiling, she takes the bottle from him, the tips of his fingers brushing against his hand for just a moment. “You could have said something, you know?”

“I always opt to remain a gentleman. When a woman hands you a bottle of beer, you drink it, whether you want to or not.”

“You know that makes absolutely no sense, right? What if you don’t know her? Do you just take bottles from random strangers in bars? Because that can’t be safe.”

He shrugs, the corner of his lips pulling up into a momentary smile. “Aye, it was never a rule I very much agreed with, and I’ve since rectified it to not include strange women. But you, love, are far from strange.”

“Am I now? What if the crap David leaves in his fridge is the worst beer you’ve ever tasted?”

“I still finished the bottle, didn’t I?”

Her eyes go wide, a smile spreading across her face, and she holds up the bottles in her hands. “Well, since this was the worst beer you’ve ever tasted, what can I get for you? Given David actually has some.”

“Rum, if you have it, love. If not…” He runs the edge of his fingernail against the side of his tooth, then smiles at her. “If not, I’ll take literally anything other than this terrible beer.”

She barks out a laugh before closing the door behind her.

Bloody hell, Killian, what have you gotten yourself into?

Another group of kids, about Alice and Henry’s age, walks up the driveway “Trick or treat!”-ing at him, and he waves his hand towards them as they follow the directions on the sign, each carefully picking out two pieces of candy each before retreating.

Heartbreak, he thinks to himself, and his gaze falls down to his forearm, currently hidden by the leather of the costume jacket, but he knows it’s there: the tattoo he got in her honor, the woman he was with for almost three years, whose death he was responsible for. It was a heart with a dagger in it, her name on a ribbon in front of it.

It does not take long for her to return, brandishing a glass in each hand, and the one she hands to him has a more than generous serving of rum in it; when he takes a sip of it, it burns his throat perfectly, and he smiles.

“Heartbreak is a funny thing, love. But sometimes, it’s a blessing.”

“You’re happy I got my heart broken?”

“If it can be broken it means it still works.”

Alice stares up at it, and it’s almost as if it stares back, the castle—well, mansion, looming down at her from the end of the street. The Mills house, home to the mayor and her family, and the very place that she is dreading going. Gina Mills, daughter of Regina Mills—because yes, of course, the mayor named her only daughter after herself —has been nothing but rude to Alice since the first day of school, and now her house is the very place Alice needs to go in order to go to this party.

“Are you sure we have to, Henry?” she asks, and when he turns to her, he sees just how wide her eyes are, still focused up at the house. She snaps her head towards Henry, and he can see the sheer terror in her face.

He does the one thing he can think of that makes him feel better when he is scared: he reaches out and takes her hand in his. “I promise you, it will be fine, Alice. We’re going together, and I won’t let them be mean to you.”

At his words, she smiles and squeezes his hand, then releases it as she sees the three girls walking towards them: Gina, dressed in an elaborate princess gown, her long, dark hair piled on top of her head under a tiara; her best friend Ashley, in a glittering black dress and a witch’s hat; and her stepsister, Margot, in a green tunic and brown tights, a bow slung over her shoulder and a quiver of arrows hanging at her hip.

“Well, well, well, look who it is!” Gina taunts, walking towards them. “The new girl and the little Swan boy.”

“Shut up, Gina,” Henry says, his voice hard, but he is smaller than them, looking up at the three girls, and all they do is laugh at them.

Well, Gina and Ashley do, but Alice realizes that Margot, standing behind them, has her arms crossed over her chest and is very much not laughing with them. In fact, she even looks upset by what Gina is saying.

“What are you even supposed to be, Swan? A squire?”

Henry knows that arguing is worthless and can stop his words, but he can’t stop the flood of warmth that takes over his cheeks, thankful for the darkness in the street.

She turns her glare towards Alice. “And you, a little orphan girl?”

But unlike Henry, Alice stands her ground. “Actually, I’m Alice, from Alice in Wonderland. You would know that if you ever read a book.”

For just a moment, Gina’s mouth is gaping, unsure of how to respond when she is the one being barraged with the insults. She knits her eyebrows, putting together a response, but before she can, Margot pushes past her and Ashley, flashing Alice a warm smile.

“ Alice in Wonderland is one of my favorite books! My dad used to read it to me all the time, when he wasn’t reading Robin Hood. ”

Finally, Alice smiles, shifting her eyes towards Gina for just a moment before Margot links her arm through Alice’s, starting to lead her towards their house. Alice reaches her hand out and takes Henry’s, dragging him along behind them towards the house, a smile slowly stretching across her face.

“Your house is beautiful, Margot,” Alice tells her when she opens the front door for them. “It reminds me—reminds me of the place me and my papa used to stay when he was on the off-season.”

“Thanks, Alice,” she says, leading them to a table in the kitchen covered in snacks and candy and drinks. While she and Henry take a few items each, then fill their punch cups with the blood-red juice Regina whipped up for the party, Margot just stands behind them, her arms crossed over her chest, thumb toying with the string on her costume bow, watching Gina and Ashley walk slowly throughout the room, whispering to each other, no doubt making fun of all the kids she invited to her own party.

With snacks and punch in hand, the three of them move through the kitchen to one of the small tables Regina set up in place of their large dining room table.

Alice and Henry eat their snacks in silence for a very awkward minute, sharing questioning eye contact while Margot’s gaze is locked across the room. After this awkward minute, though, Margot is the one who speaks up.

“Hey, look, I’m—I’m really sorry about the way Gina has been treating you. Both of you. She can be a royal brat sometimes, but she—not that there’s a good excuse for it, but she’s not usually like that.”

Alice smiles across the table at her new friend, then back at Henry.

“I hate seeing her treat you that way, and I don’t know why it’s taken so long for me to stop her. Hopefully she’ll back off a little bit now that she knows I’m on your side.”

“Thank you,” Alice says softly, and Henry just nods in agreement. “I really appreciate that, especially after everything she’s done to me since I moved here from England.”

Now it’s Margot’s turn to smile at Alice. “Now, I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. My dad is from England, too. From up north, near Manchester. I went over there once a few years ago, before he married Regina, and I remember it was the most beautiful green I have ever seen.”

“Papa and I lived in London, but he was actually born in Ireland. That’s where we went on the off-season, a little southern coastal town. But it really is beautiful. Almost as beautiful as it is here, in Maine.”

“How did you get from England to Maine?” Henry asks, and Margot nods, wondering the same question.

“Well, my papa, he… he got in a car accident and his girlfriend, Milah, died, and he lost his hand, so he couldn’t be a goalie anymore, and we decided that it was time to try something new.”

“But how did you decide on Maine ?” Now it’s Margot’s turn to ask the question.

Alice smiles, pulling the memory to the forefront, standing in front of the map tacked to the wall and throwing darts, finding somewhere to make their new home, and she relays the memories to her friends—then, how she hoped that she wouldn’t have to move to Montana, where her father’s dart landed, and how her whole life depended on a game of rock-paper-scissors, one which she won. “And so we moved to Maine.”

“Well, Alice, I know I’m glad that you did,” Margot comments with a smile, one that both Alice and Henry duplicate.

But before either of them can reply, their conversation is stopped by a rugged, sandy-haired man who comes up behind Margot and sets her hand on her shoulder.

“Margot, sweets, Regina needs your help with something.” Then he smiles at her before turning towards Alice and Henry, and through his accent, so similar to her own father’s, makes Alice guess that he is Margot’s father. “But first, who are your friends? Well, I know Henry, of course, how are you young man?” He asks, holding out his hand for Henry to shake it, which he does.

“Hello, Mr. Locksley,” Henry replies curtly, smiling softly.

“I’m Alice Jones,” Alice says, holding her own hand towards the man, flashing her own smile. “I’m –”

“Killian Jones’ daughter, of course.” His blue eyes light up with excitement, which only makes Alice’s smile grow. “Sweets, go help Regina, please,” he tells his daughter, his voice just above a mumble, then takes her seat when she stands up. “I’m a big fan of your father, you know?” he asks, leaning towards her with his forearms on the table. “He was the best of the best in his prime. You should be proud of him.”

“I definitely am, sir.”

Robin smiles across the table at her, then leans in closer. “Do you think—do you think you could introduce me to him?”

“Of course I can, whenever you’d like.”

“Thank you, love,” he says softly, almost as if he is overwhelmed by the fact that he has the opportunity to meet Killian Jones, before pushing himself away from the table to stand up. “I’ll let you two continue to party. Happy halloween!”

They both respond with curt, awkward “Happy Halloween”s, then give the awkward tension at the table a moment to dissipate before Henry states what’s on his mind:

“I wonder how our parents are doing.”

Alice leans towards him across the table, her smile as wide as she can make it. “Hopefully falling in love. That’s why I convinced him to come, you know? So he would have to spend time with your mother. He’s been so sad, so alone, since we moved, and he doesn’t think I know, but I know.”

“Alice! You tricked him!” Henry sounds astonished, but he can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face.

“Well, it is Halloween. Isn’t that what this is all about? Tricks and treats?”

“It’s almost 9:00, where do you think they are?” Killian asks, his eyes falling to his cell phone sitting in the cupholder of the chair, and as much as she laughs at his worry— “They’re ten years old at a party down the street, Jones,” —she also understands him. His daughter is new to the town, has never been to a party with these kids before, even one with lots of other parents, and, to top it all off, some of the kids have been less than decent to his little girl.

She watches as he takes another sip of his rum, pausing for just a moment before touching his lips to the glass, and he takes the rest of the liquid in one mouthful.

Somehow, by the volition of one of them or the other, their chairs have moved closer together, now more next to each other instead of facing one another, close enough that Emma’s hand can reach his with her arm still on the headrest.

“I’m sure they’re fine, and will be home soon.” Her voice is soft, matching the soft feel of her thumb on the back of his hand. She can’t quite understand what it is, can’t describe the pull that she feels towards the man sitting with her in her brother’s garage—not just a man, but her son’s friend’s father. It would be completely and totally wrong to be attracted to Alice’s father.

But then why can’t she stop touching him?

This is the question she is mulling over, taking a slow, pointed sip of her drink, when Henry and Alice finally come walking back up the driveway.

Killian, in all his endearing (and, Emma can’t help thinking, absolutely sexy ) dad protection, lets out a sigh of relief, jumping out of his seat and wrapping his arms around his daughter.

"Oh, Starfish, was so worried about you,” he says, pressing his lips to the girl’s forehead.

She takes a step back, and the way her eyebrow raises to her forehead is a trait she inherited straight from her father. “Why?”

Henry smiles gently at his mother, then turns his attention towards the Joneses. “I told you I would take care of her, Mr. Jones,” he says, and when Killian turns to him, the edge of his lips turns up in the beginnings of a smile.

"Aye, lad, that you did. But no matter who promised to take care of my Alice, I will always still worry about her.”

“Well, papa, Henry did stand up for me. and so did our new friend Margot.”

Even standing next to her, Killian does not miss the look that covers Emma’s face, or the tone in her voice when she asks, “Margot? Like, Margot Locksley, Regina’s stepdaughter?”

Both of the children nod but its Henry that speaks. “Yeah, her! Gina was making fun of our costumes, and she jumped right in and told her to leave us alone.”

Before Henry can say anything else, Alice jumps in, a flash of excitement taking over her face. “And she talked to us for the rest of the night! Plus, I got to meet her dad, and he’s from Manchester and is a really big fan of yours and wants to meet you!”

Killian smiles sweetly at his daughter, but still can’t keep the blush from rising up his cheeks, his hand flying to his ear to scratch behind it—the Killian Jones sign of embarrassment, as Emma is slowly beginning to learn.

“I look forward to meeting him, then,” he mumbles, his voice just as embarrassed as he looks, and Emma can tell that he is not quite sure what to do next, so she jumps in.

"Why don’t the two of you go in and watch a movie or something? No need to call it a night quite yet.” As subtly as she can, she turns her eyes up towards him with the last words, hoping he heard everything she was trying to say with them: that maybe she wasn’t quite ready to call it a night yet, either.

Alice looks up to her father, as if making sure he agreed with Emma’s suggestion, and he smiles down at her, pressing his hand to the top of her head. “Aye, Starfish, we won’t be too long.”

Both Alice and Henry seem to accept this as a reasonable answer, sharing a quick glance between them before turning to the door that leads back into the house.

When it closes behind them, Killian turns back to Emma, the small amount of space between them suddenly becoming incredibly apparent, but neither of them dare move a muscle, lest they burst the bubble and break the spell brewing between them.

The fire has died down to a smolder, both of them too distracted by their conversation and the amounts of alcohol they had allowed themselves that night—more than either of them had intended, but not enough to hinder their memories or feelings.

(Though, if Killian were being honest with himself, perhaps enough to make him uncomfortable with the idea of driving home with Alice in the car. But he could wait to cross that bridge until he got there.)

With the half-dead fire as their main source of light, he has to rely on the lights strung on the walls to read her face—though it is quite a lot easier given the small amount of space between them. Looking down at her, he wags his eyebrows, a smile peeking its way across his face. “Admit it, Swan. You just weren’t ready to be done with my company just yet.”

She doesn’t know what calls her to do it, if it is his joking attitude, his incredibly calm demeanor, the realness of their conversation as the night has gone on, or perhaps just the damn glint in his bright blue eyes reflecting the orange light of the smoldering fire; but no matter what the reason for it is, when she pulls his face to hers, her hand wrapped around the back of his neck and his hand finding its way to her hip, she knows that it does somehow feel incredibly right . Something about the warmth of his lips pressed against her own, the hardness of his chest through all that damn leather, and the sweet taste of rum and Halloween candy on his tongue as it slides against hers is perfect.

So perfect that she doesn’t even notice the group of people walking up the driveway towards them until the knowing sound of Mary Margaret clearing her throat causes Emma to push herself away from him, using her hand still pressed against his chest as leverage—as if putting a few feet of space between them would change the fact that her brother, his wife, and the mayor’s husband just found her making out with an incredibly good-looking, leather-clad British man in her brother’s garage.

“Hello, Emma,” Mary Margaret says. trying to keep a straight face, though the glare plastered on David’s is just about as straight as it gets. Her eyes turn towards Killian, trying to take him all in without making it incredibly noticeable, and she reaches her hand out towards him, reaching over her son’s stroller. “And you must be Mr. Jones, Alice’s father?”

Emma can tell that he is trying to seem calm, but she recognizes the same reddening in the tips of his ears from the few other times he has become embarrassed. “Yes, that’s correct,” he replies, his voice doing its best to stay flat.

“I thought so,” Mary Margaret says, her collected demeanor unfaltering. “I’m Mary Margaret, Emma’s sister in law.” Smiling, she reaches her arm out and takes David’s hand, pulling him to stand next to her. The glare covering his face has not wavered. “And this is David, my husband. Emma’s brother.”

This time, Killian is the one to reach out his hand, but when David takes it, he does not return Killian’s smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sheriff Nolan.”

“Good,” David grumbles, and Emma notices the white of her brothers knuckles as he shakes Killian’s hand, squeezing as hard as he can. “You know who I am.”

Emma recognizes the tone of his voice—it’s the same one he uses when he is trying to intimidate someone into confessing. But if Killian is intimidated, then he does an incredible job hiding it, unlike his embarrassment. “Of course, Emma has told me much about the two of you. This is a lovely house, so eloquently decorated. And who is this charming little mate?” he asks, leaning down towards Neal, asleep in his stroller.

It’s with these words, pointed so specifically at Mary Margaret, that Emma remembers just what Killian Jones made his career in, and suddenly the way he seems to already have her sister-in-law under his thumb makes complete sense: captain of a professional soccer— football— team, a position that put him in front of a lot of cameras, and next to a lot of women. Of course he can rope Mary Margaret in so quickly—it’s just a part of who he is.

And the smile that spreads across Mary Margaret’s face proves that he has succeeded at his quest. “This is our son Neal. He’s almost a year old.”

“Excuse me, uh, Mr. Jones?” Robin pushes his way past David to stand next to Mary Margaret, holding out his own hand towards Killian. “I’m Robin. Locksley. Robin Locksley. And may I just say, I am a huge fan, even as a man from Manchester.”

“Please, Robin,” Killian says, taking his hand in his own. “Our daughters are friends now, you can at least call me Killian.”

Emma can swear that she can physically see the excitement spread over Robin’s face at this comment. “Well, Mr. Jones—uh, Killian—you’re right about that. I just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

"I’m glad you did, Robin. Maybe one day soon we can grab a pint and talk about home, eh?”

At this, Robin actually blushes from embarrassment. “I would like that a lot. I, uh, have to get home and help Regina and the girls straighten up, but it really was a pleasure to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, definitely, we will get together”

If it was possible for Robin to blush any harder, he may have, but he was at least at a loss for words when he turned back down the driveway to return home.

When he is out of earshot, Emma slaps Killian in the chest with the back of her hand, her eyes wide.

“What?” he asks, grabbing her wrist with his hand as a knee-jerk reaction, and Emma is almost entirely sure that she immediately would have started making out with him again if they didn’t have an audience.

But they do. So she doesn’t.

Instead, she answers his question. “You didn’t have to embarrass the poor guy!”

“Me, embarrass him? He was acting like I’m some sort of celebrity!”

“You are, Killian.”

“Wait, you are?” Mary Margaret asks, but they both ignore her question.

“No, Emma, I used to be.”

"You did?” Mary Margaret interjects again, and again they ignore her.

“I don’t want to be that guy here, the guy that ruined his career, had a mental breakdown, and moved as far away as he could.“

"No matter what happened, Killian, the guy obviously still sees you as the star, and not as anything that has happened since then.”

She has filled the space between them again completely, resting the palms of her hands against his chest. Hearing her words, he reaches up to cover her hand with his own, leaning towards her to rest his forehead against hers, a movement that somehow feels completely normal to both of them.

After a moment, he releases his breath. “Aye, love, I guess you’re right. It’s just still a little odd for me.”

Neither of them say anything, and the garage is silent for a moment before David speaks up. “Alright, someone’s gotta tell me what’s going on here, because this is my garage and I have a right to know.”

They break apart again, being made aware of their company, but this time is less violent than the last, their hands still clasped together between them.

“David, this is Killian Jones, retired soccer—”

“Football, love,” Killian corrects, but she silences him with a glare and continues.

“ Football goalie, ” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Newest resident of Storybrooke, Maine, and father to Henry’s friend Alice.”

For once, David actually looks impressed. Mary Margaret, however, does not. When David turns his gaze down to his wife, he sees this, and immediately claps his hand on Killian’s shoulder.

“Let’s go inside and find ourselves something to drink, shall we?” he asks, but doesn’t give Killian a chance to reply before pulling him beside him into the house. As if he can tell that his father just left, baby Neal wakes up in his stroller and starts to cry.

When the door closes behind them, Emma turns to the brown-eyed glare that she knows is waiting for her.

“What?”

Mary Margaret huffs loudly, her lips pressed together to form a thin line, before leaning down to pull her fussing baby out of the stroller. “You know what, Emma. Dating another parent? Someone Henry is actually friends with? We both know this isn’t a good idea. Is that why you kept it from us?”

“Kept it?” she starts to ask, but realizes that at least that’s a little better than just meeting him tonight and kissing him in their garage. So she changes her angle. “We’re still trying to figure it out ourselves,” she says, a statement not too far from the truth.

And then, she realizes that is exactly what she wants—she wants to figure it out with him, wants to find a way to be in a relationship with him in a way that isn’t weird for their kids. Because, yes, she may have just met him tonight, and yes, his daughter is friends with her son—but neither of those things had to keep them apart.

She could date Killian Jones without it being weird.

Couldn’t she?

“A professional athlete, right here in my town, huh ?” David asks, handing him another god awful beer out of the fridge—but he had been lucky enough to only have to have choked his way through one the whole night, and all the rum his had since then at least helps it go down a little smoother.

There is a weird sense of pride in his voice, as if something he did made Killian join their ranks, but he just smiles, taking a sip out of the bottle.

“Yes, my Alice and I decided it was time for a change after my career was over, and this was where fate brought us.”

“What ended your career?”

At first, Killian is thrown off by the question— isn’t it obvious? —but when he turns to David and sees the sincerity behind his eyes, he realizes that he had just not put the pieces together yet.

Killian holds up the stump of his arm, the tip of it just visible under the edge of the jacket sleeve. “Car accident,” he says, steadying his voice, and he watches as David tries to hide the flash of surprise that crosses his face.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice soft, and presses the beer bottle to his lips for a moment before taking a slow sip.

“I’m not,” Killian says, the confession surprising him—it was a thought he’d allowed himself to have before, but not one that had ever been put into words, especially not to a man he had just met. “I mean, of course I’m sorry it happened because I took the life of someone else, someone I cared about deeply, and I will never not be sorry that my actions led to that. But I’m not sorry about where it has brought me, about the changes I have enacted in my life because of it.”

The two of them are silent for a moment, the only noise in the house carrying over from the first Harry Potter movie playing in the living room. And then David bursts the bubble, changing the subject and breaking the silence all at once:

“How long have you been seeing my sister?”

The question itself is simple.

Answering the question, however, is not.

Killian assumes that Emma doesn’t usually kiss complete strangers in her brother’s garage on Halloween, and he doesn’t want to make whatever is brewing between them seem fickle.

Because, he realizes, he doesn’t want it to be fickle. He wants to be with her, wants to at least have the opportunity to try before they have to label anything

He wants exactly what he came to America searching for: he wants a normal life, surrounded by normal people, and to be in a normal relationship, where nothing is expected of him except to be himself.

And, more than all of that, he wants to know if he can find it through— with— Emma Swan.

“So that’s why we haven’t told you. Haven’t told anyone.” The lie rolls easily off her tongue, but the fact that she so desperately wants it to be true makes fashioning it all the easier.

She just hopes Killian is somehow attempting the same thing inside with her brother.

“We want to keep it quiet, to keep things simple, until we figure out just what it is we have between us. We both have kids, and we understand how difficult it might be for them if it doesn’t work out, so they don’t—they don’t even know about it, actually. Not yet, at least.”

Finally, Mary Margaret smiles at her, shifting baby Neal onto her other hip. “You seem to have given this more thought than I was giving you credit for,” she says, and Emma realizes just how right she is. For most of the night, Emma was subconsciously trying to piece together how she could have a relationship with Killian Jones without ruining the friendship that has flourished since he stepped into her brother’s yard—though, she imagines, neither of them were thinking about friendship.

She definitely was not.

But there was still the problem that she revealed to Mary Margaret: trying to be with him, to start from where they were interrupted before and see what happens, without letting it affect the friendship their children were forming. Or, even without letting them know that there was a relationship forming in the first place. Emma doesn’t keep much from Henry, and from what she gathered, she assumed Killian and Alice have a similar relationship.

Though, of course, you can’t practice hiding a relationship from your son if you never have one in the first place.

“We just need time,” Emma says finally, the words forming a sigh. She expects nothing from them; she is saying them more as a reminder for herself than anything else.

So she definitely doesn’t expect Mary Margaret to reach out and place her hand on her arm, drawing her gaze back to her sister-in-law’s, and say, “Then take it. David and I will keep Henry and Alice tonight, as long as Mr. Jones is okay with it. They may even already be asleep on the couch. Go home, take him home, and talk. Try to figure things out.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, suddenly worried that maybe Killian doesn’t want the same thing she does, but even through her worry, a smile still spreads itself across her face. “Don’t you need to talk to David or something? I don’t just want to throw two sugar-high ten-year-olds at you guys and run.”

But before Mary Margaret can respond, the door from the house opens again, and David leads Killian through it. Emma can’t help but smile at the bottles of beer in Killian’s hand, the very poison they had turned away from almost three hours ago—but, always a gentleman, he must have accepted some again.

And brought her one. Great.

“Good news, Snow!” David announces, using the nickname he has called her since college. “We’re having a sleepover tonight! Us, the baby, and two ten-year-olds!”

Eyes wide, Emma and Mary Margaret turn towards each other, bewildered smiles set on each of their faces. Killian fills the space between them, handing her one of the bottles of beer in his hand before wrapping his arm around her waist, the coolness of his beer bottle against her hip.

When neither of the women respond, David looks worried, and Killian leans away from her enough to take in her expression, trying to find the same signs of worry she looks for in him.

“Is there a problem with that?” David asks, and Mary Margaret takes the few steps to stand beside him, taking the glass of water she assumed was for her out of his hand with a smile.

“No, actually, it’s just—that was the same conclusion we came to out here and it threw me off for a moment, is all.”

With Mary Margaret’s words, Killian smiles down at Emma, his worry melting away.

“We should go tell the kids, then,” Emma says, starting her second bottle of the worst beer he has ever tasted, a knowing smile on her lips. Because not only does she want to give him a chance, but apparently the world agrees.

Her house is decidedly less decorated than her brother’s. A few jack-o-lanterns on the porch, a purple glass pumpkin sitting in a tray of fake leaves on the dining room table. Thankfully, there is not a spider’s web anywhere to be seen. Killian’s not sure that he could have the conversation that needs to be had in a room filled with fake spider webs and skulls.

And he really needs to be able to have this conversation.

She wants to have it, too. He can tell. After they have both changed out of their costumes, she into leggings and a tee shirt and he into jeans and a button-down that he keeps in his car, there is something in the pointed way she gathers all the dishes in the living room and puts them in the sink that speaks nervousness to him, something in the slow energy she dedicates to pouring them both drinks out of her own liquor cabinet—a rather hefty Captain, neat, for him, and an even heftier Knob Creek with a single ice cube for her—that tells him that something in her is trying to repress the conversation as much as she can.

But, once the dishes are cleaned up, the kitchen table wiped off, the blanket that was sitting on the couch folded, and they both have drinks in their hands, she sits down in the center of the couch, since he has opted for the armchair for himself, there is nothing else she can do to avoid it.

“What the hell are we thinking, Killian?” she asks, the glint in her eye somehow telling him that she wants to down the rest of her whiskey in a single gulp, but she does not.

Her question surprises him, even with all of the animosity she has already shown towards the subject. “What?”

“Our kids are friends. This whole thing could tear them apart. If we decide to go for this, and it comes back to bite us in the ass, then we have no one but ourselves to blame. But we won’t be the only people getting hurt.”

“But what if it works?”

“Now, come on, Killian,” she starts, but he doesn’t let her continue.

“You’re looking at this whole thing so negatively, but what if you didn’t? What if we go for this, and it works? And we give our kids a family ?”

“Henry has a family. He has me, he has David and Mary Margaret and Neal.”

“You and I both know that’s not what I meant, Emma.”

She does not respond to this, instead taking another pointed sip of her whiskey. He watches the rise and fall of her chest as she takes slow breaths, her eyes avoiding him by being drawn to the coffee table in front of them.

Now it is his turn to hit her with a question, just like she did to start this conversation: “Do you want this as much as I do?” He pushes himself off the chair and moves to take a seat beside her on the couch. His next words are slower, each of them chosen very carefully, but they reveal nothing but the truth. “Because the only thing I have thought about since I saw you open that door is how much I want to be with you.”

“Come on, Killian,” she says again, but this time, he does not stop her. “That just makes this even more crazy. Don’t give me this ‘love-at-first-sight’ bullshit, because we both know that’s exactly what it is. There are so many reasons we shouldn’t do this.”

“Then tell me them.”

Although this is far from the most insane thing he has asked, she reacts as if it is. Leaning forward to set her glass down on the coffee table, she stands up to leave him on the couch, pacing through the room in front of him. “I’ve already told you my main concern. Everything I have done since Henry came into my life has been for him. Every decision I have made, I made because I thought it would be best for him. There’s a reason his father doesn’t even know he exists, and that same reason is why I’ve refused to date anyone.”

“Ah,” he responds, taking another sip of his rum while waiting for her to turn her eyes to him.

“What?”

“This isn’t really about Henry then, is it?”

“What? What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?”

“You don’t have to hide from it, Emma. It’s a perfectly reasonable fear, given all that you have been put through. This isn’t about Henry, it’s about Henry’s father.”

Emma opens her mouth, poised to say something, but stops before any words come up, snapping her jaw shut. Killian just watches her emotions as they pass across her face, from stunned to angry to worried to upset.

“Don’t I have the right to worry about that, though?”

“Of course you do, love. All I’m saying is that you don’t have to anymore.”

“It’s not like that, Killian. You can’t just waltz into my life and tell me that I can forget everything that Neal did to me. He was a criminal, he tried to send me to jail for his own crimes. I lost everything because of him, crumbled into nothing when he left, and it’s taken me years to build myself back up to the point where I can be okay.”

Killian places his glass on the table next to Emma’s, then stands up and runs his fingers through his hair. “Wait, wait… Henry’s father’s name was Neal?”

She whips around to face him, confused. “ That’s your question?”

“That’s your nephew’s name.”

“Correct,” she says, a shadow of a smile passing over her face now that she understands his question.

“Does that mean that you never told your brother his name?”

“Also correct.”

“So, the fact that their son has the same name as the scum that impregnated you and left you is completely unknown to them?”

“Pure irony.”

He sits down on the couch again, running his fingers over the scars at the end of his blunted arm, a movement he has found himself doing without realizing it since the accident. “That’s just bloody brilliant,” he says under his breath, but Emma chuckles lightly.

She paces back and forth a few more times in front of the coffee table, then sighs as she takes her seat next to him again. Leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, she grabs both of the glasses off of the coffee table, handing him his, but continues to lean forward. He doesn’t push her any further, lets them lie in the soft silence that has settled between them for a few moments.

Until she sits back, setting her hand on his knee, her face close enough to his to take in every contour of his expression as he tries to read hers. “How did it work with you and her?” She moves her hand to his, reaching across his to thread her fingers through his, and then points to the tattoo on his forearm, visible now that he has changed out of the costume and rolled up the sleeves on his long-sleeved shirt. “Milah?”

“What do you mean, love?”

“What was her relationship with Alice when the two of you were together?”

“Honestly, most of the time we were together, Alice was with her nanny in Ireland while I was playing in London, and the first two years, I wasn’t comfortable enough bringing her home to such an impressionable child. Alice was too young to come with me, and we had been together for a while by the time I decided we had a steady enough foundation for her to come to Ireland with me.”

“Yeah, well, we don’t have that pleasure,” she whispers, taking a long sip of her whiskey, and he mirrors her action with his own glass.

“Emma, I—I know that you may have your doubts, but I have never been drawn to someone the way I have continually found myself drawn to you since I first laid eyes on you. So what if we just… jump in? I’m willing to be in this for the long run.”

She turns her face towards his again, closing some of the space between them as she tries not to focus on the way his tongue runs over his bottom lip while he waits for her to answer. “You’re nothing if not a damn charmer, Killian Jones.”

She lets him fill the space between them—it was his turn to kiss her anyway—and he does.

This kiss is less rushed than their first one, soft and slow and perfect as their lips brush together, and this time when his tongue brushes over her bottom lip, it is less demanding and more asking. Her hand finds the soft, dark hair at the nape of his neck, her other pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat; his is threaded through her hair, though his stump remains at his side.

Emma has noticed the way he avoids using it, avoids touching her with it, as if she is somehow disgusted by it, so when she slides her hand across his chest to wrap her fingers around his wrist, feeling the scars, he tries to pull it away as a reaction—one that she will not let him follow through with. When they do finally pull apart from each other, she opens her eyes first, foreheads pressed together, and he leans in to press his nose against hers as he opens his bright blue eyes, blazing with emotion.

When his gaze falls down to what is left of his left arm, hers follows, letting him hold it up between them. “Emma, love, you don’t have to –”

“No, I do. Because if you’re going to be with me and all of the ghosts that Neal left in my past, then I’m here with you and yours. This is part of you, what happened to you is part of you, and it’s a part of you that I am going to love along with everything else.”

“Ghosts and all?” His voice is soft, almost trembling, as if he is sure that her answer is going to be no. But she takes his arm in her hand again, kissing the skin just above his scars, then his cheek, then his lips.

“Everything, Killian. What was it you said to me earlier? You’re in it –”

“For the long haul,” they say together before he pulls her in for another kiss.

One year later:

Emma stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, she can’t help but press her hand against her stomach, feeling the soft black fabric of her favorite dress beneath it. Killian had insisted that they go out to dinner for their anniversary, even though all she wanted to do was sit in David’s garage and hand out Halloween candy; so they settled for a compromise, going out to dinner the night before instead of on actual Halloween. Since it was out of their way, he took Alice and Henry to David and Mary Margaret’s while she finished getting ready, since Emma had just put her house up on the market after spending most of the past year at Killian’s anyway. It was bigger, had two extra bedrooms, and the dock in the backyard was a commodity he wasn’t ready to give up quite yet. Applying a last layer of lipstick, she hears him pull up in front of the house, then when he closes the car door behind him. It is only a few moments before he bounds up the steps into their master suite, sliding up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, unknowingly resting his hand where hers were just a minute ago and pressing his lips against the sensitive skin on the back of her neck.

“You’re bloody gorgeous, d’you know that?”

She turns in his arms, locking her hands around the back of his neck, feeling his hair under her thumbs as she smiles at him. “Yeah, I think you’ve told me once or twice.”

The smile spread across his face grows, and he presses a soft kiss against her nose, knowing better than to mess with her lipstick before she has a chance to ruin it other places. “Are you ready, love? We need to leave soon to make our reservations.”

“Reservations? Killian Jones, you really went above and beyond, didn’t you?”

“I have to do the best I can for the woman I love.”

Shaking her head at him, she pulls out of his arms, knowing full well (and from experience) that once he started saying things like that, it just gets harder and harder to leave the bedroom.

“Well then, let’s go so you can feed her.”

He had already pulled out all of the stops, more stops than she even knew there were, and that was before they even started getting ready for dinner. It all started with breakfast in bed, pancakes and bacon and hot chocolate, and then he had shown up at the police station for lunch, toting more hot chocolate and and a grilled cheese, not to mention the dozen of perfect red roses—which he brought a vase for, knowing there was nothing at the station for them already. When she got home, there was another dozen roses on the counter, these ones white, and a small, handwritten note making sure she knew to be ready to go at 6 for their dinner—and now they were going somewhere that needed reservations? Emma was fairly sure— positive, actually, that no one had ever treated her as well as Killian had already today, not to mention the innumerable marvelous things he’s done for her on a daily basis.

And that’s why, more than anything else, she is excited to tell him her news, because if she was in another situation like she was when she found out she was having Henry, she’s not sure that she would be able to do it all again.

The restaurant is about a half an hour outside Storybrooke, a small, dimly-lit Italian restaurant with actual, real-life candles lit at each table, and the maitre’d leads them to a table by the window, looking out over the water.

Emma orders a water, which Killian raises an eyebrow at, but when the waiter walks away, she says, “Look at the prices on this menu, Killian. I don’t need a fifteen dollar drink.”

“Don’t worry about the prices, love. Just get whatever you want.”

They order appetizers, some fried seafood and this fresh mozzarella platter that comes highly recommended by their waitress, but Emma can’t wait any longer—she is practically buzzing with the excitement that has welled up inside her since she learned the news earlier that week, and especially since she decided to tell him here, tonight.

“Killian,” she says, reaching her hand across the table to take his, and when he turns her eyes up at her, staring at her through his eyelashes, she realizes that there must have been something in her voice that worries him, especially once he asks,

“What’s the matter, love?”

Smiling, she shakes her head. “No, no, nothing’s the matter. Actually, everything is perfect, but everything with you always is. I just—I have something I want to tell you.”

The worry melts off his face, replaced with a smile that she can swear lets off more light than the candle sitting between them. “What is it?”

Suddenly, she is so excited that she can’t seem to get her words out in the right order: “You know that—that thing that we talked about at the end of the summer, the, uh, the thing that we wanted to do, and that I said I might need to go to the—go back to the doctor for, before we were sure of anything?”

He raises his eyebrow, but the smile on his face continues to spread, though possibly just at her sudden inability to speak. “Yes, I think I know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, it—it happened, Killian, and we don’t have to go to see any doctors or anything because it happened and I’m—I’m pregnant.” She says the words out loud for the first time (though she has only been sure for three days), and then she says them again. “I’m pregnant, Killian. We’re—we’re having a baby. ”

She watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down, his eyes unfaltering from her face, the biggest and most brilliant smile that she has ever seen spread across his face, and the fact that he does not say anything worries her for a moment, until he pulls his hand away from hers to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye.

“You’re pregnant,” he says finally, then takes a deep breath, the candlelight between them flickering in his eyes. “ Bloody hell, we’re going to have a baby.” His voice is breathy, and she can tell that she is trying to hold himself together.

Until he suddenly jumps up, feeling the pockets of his jacket, then his pants, frantically, before turning her eyes back to her, quickly saying, “I’ll be right back,” before walking right past her and through the restaurant.

Intrigued, she watches him as he approaches the host’s station by the door, his hand against the man’s shoulder, and he leans in to say something into his ear. After a moment, they both turn to her, sitting at the table, and she raises her hand in a confused wave. The maitre’d nods, then leads Killian through the restaurant and back through a set of double doors.

Losing her point of concentration, she turns back towards the table, one hand on her stomach, and the other brings her glass of water to her lips. “You better not be causing trouble already,” she says out loud to the human growing in her stomach.

Killian is only gone for a few more seconds, quickly appearing back beside their table before she can take another drink of water, and the way his hair is sitting mussed on his head tells her that wherever he went, he was pulling at it with his hand.

“Emma,” he breathes, standing beside her, and she turns in the chair to face him. “I was going to wait until later to do this, and that’s why I gave it to the waitress to bring out with the dessert, but now seems as perfect a time as any. We’re—we already have our own little family, but now we’re adding another one, and I—I was obviously already going to ask you this before you told me you’re pregnant, but now it just seems all the more important to really become a family.” He pulls his hand out of his pocket, revealing a perfect, sparkling diamond ring, then kneels on the floor beside her chair. “Emma Swan, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

She reaches out, pressing the fingers of her right hand against his cheek while giving him her left, and he slides the ring on her finger. “You’re serious about this, Killian? You’re sure you want to marry me?”

“You’re carrying my child, love. There is nothing that I want to do more.”

She feels her lip quivering, threatening to burst out from where it is tucked under her teeth. “Ghosts and all?” she asks, her voice no more than a whisper.

“Ghosts and all, Emma Swan. I told you, I’m in this for the long haul.”

#fall for cs #fallforcs #my writing #wordsbymeganmichael #cs ff #cs fics #captain swan

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