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welllpthisishappening · 4 years

Text

One Foot In (3/7)

The facts were these.

Killian Jones was dead. This much Emma knew, standing in the middle of the funeral parlor staring at him. What she didn’t know was why. Or how. Or what she would do when she touched him.

Because Emma Swan had a gift. Touch a dead thing once, bring it back to life. Touch it again, dead forever.

And the last thing Emma could do was bring Killian back to life, talk to him for the first time in years, only to watch him die all over again. Not when she’d spent the better part of those same years being in love with him.

—–

Rating: Teen, but eventually they’re going to kiss Word Count: 9.3K this chapter. Again. AN: I continue to have a lot of thoughts and feelings about all the thoughts and feelings you guys have about this mess of words. Thanks for being lovely. We get to that eventually this chapter. Also, happy hockey day internet. Yesterday obviously didn’t count because the Rangers don’t play until tonight.

@shireness-says @optomisticgirl @nikkiemms, @teamhook, @dayo488, @greymeetsblue, @jennjenn615, @heavenlyjoycastle, @klynn-stormz, @superchocovian, @onepunintendid, @jonesfandomfanatic, @lfh1226-linda

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll ||

—–

Emma Swan is twenty-nine years, six months, twenty-three days and, approximately, eight and half hours old when she wakes up to an empty apartment.

This, normally, would not be cause for distress, but Emma is less than twenty-four hours removed from making sure Killian Jones wasn’t buried in the same cemetery she once kissed him in and they probably should have discussed the rules more.

Like the never leave her apartment rules.

Because everyone thought he was dead rules.

Emma exhales, a breath of air she didn’t realize she was holding onto until she suddenly realizes how much she desperately needs it and it cannot be healthy for her vision to keep fading in and out like that. She assumes it’s a symptom of something. Possibly insanity.

She feels a little insane.

And questionably well rested.

Because for someone who broke most of the most fundamental rules of the universe the day before, Emma didn’t wake up once all night.

She refuses to acknowledge that that is probably a sign too.

“Ok, get a grip, Swan,” she mumbles, mostly to herself because she is, in fact, the only person in that apartment. “He can’t have gone that far.”

Pushing out of the pile of blankets tangled between her legs, she glances around her admittedly small living room and the smile on her face feels equal parts unnatural, incredulous and a little overwhelmed. And kind of charmed.

The blankets on the other side of the room are all folded – sharp corners and folds that are, very likely, Naval grade and the clothes he’d slept in are next to them, looking as if they’ve just been dropped off by the world’s most effective dry cleaners.

This, however, does not give Emma any sense of where the hell Killian has actually gone and she can’t keep talking to herself. That’s a line she refuses to cross and a rabbit hole she refuses to go down and she jogs into the kitchen before she realizes that’s where she’s decided to go next.

The plates are still in the sink, not much looking out of place, but Emma has been spending most of her free time with Ruby for years now and she’s got an eye for these things or something that would definitely make Ruby laugh and there’s a peace of paper folded on top of the coffee maker.

His handwriting is different than it was when he was a kid, not quite as lopsided as it was when he got points taken off a spelling test for illegibility that required Liam to meet with the teacher. It’s blunter now, like he’s trying to work out all his emotions about the entire state of the world in a few letters on a piece of paper that Emma can’t even begin to imagine he found easily.

You didn’t have any coffee left. You’re an awful hostess.

Her hand doesn’t shake when she reads it, a moral victory she’ll probably hold onto for the rest of the day, and her smile still feels incredibly out of place.

Because Killian is not in her apartment.

Or dead.

That’s probably the most important part of the whole thing.

Emma genuinely has no idea what sound she makes in response to that. It’s not a laugh, she’s teetering far too close to those metaphorical precipices to actually find much humor in the situation, but it’s not actually a scoff or a groan either. It’s a weird mixture of all three, a sound that actually manages to hurt her throat on the way out before lingering in the air and pressing down on every side of her skull and he’s right; she doesn’t have any coffee.

She was going to go to the store last night.

She got a little sidetracked.

God, now she wants a cheeseburger too.

And Emma is disappointed she didn’t realize exactly where a very-much alive Killian Jones went as soon as she woke up. Because, once, when she was seven and he was eight – only a few days after his birthday and he’d been bragging about being older and wiser and several other things that made Emma kick at his ankles – he’d decided he wanted to know what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street.

And the only way to figure out what was underneath that one man hole on Main Street was to lift it up, climb. down and start exploring. Immediately. He’d ignored most of Emma’s protests, smiling and nodding like she was making any progress in the argument, and eventually she’d run out of fight and gotten a flashlight out of the hallway closet.

They didn’t find much of anything, just managed to ruin both of their shoes and Ingrid resolutely refused to give them pie for three straight days because they had to throw away their clothes when she couldn’t get the smell out and—

“He went back downstairs,” Emma sighs, shaking her head in something close to disbelief.

She doesn’t time herself, but she assumes that she gets ready in record time – only a few minutes and a few droplets of water thrown at her face, not even bothering to brush her hair before tugging it up while jogging down the stairs to her own restaurant. Emma put the note in the back pocket of her jeans.

Killian doesn’t immediately look up when Emma walks in, skidding across the linoleum tile of the kitchen floor, but she can see his lips quirk slightly and, if put under oath, she would swear his eyes get brighter.

That is a scientific impossibility, Emma is sure. She’s also not entirely convinced they’re dealing with normal science.

She doesn’t know what category magic fingers fall under.

He’s half leaning on the counter, arms crossed lightly over the button-up he was wearing the day before and feet crossed at the ankles, a mug of what is, presumably, coffee in his right hand. There’s no tie, which is probably for the best because Emma isn’t sure she’d be able to handle that.

And he’s not alone.

“Hey, Em,” Graham says brightly, and Emma is glad she’s not holding anything. She would drop it. Killian’s tongue moves into the corner of his mouth.

Emma needs to study science more because it feels as if the blood actually falls out of her face, vision doing that thing again and she’d just like some kind of confirmation if that’s even possible.

Killian doesn’t move, although his eyes do narrow, a hint of a concern shifting into the space between him and Emma. There is not much space between him and Emma.

“So, uh...I met your friend,” Graham continues, eyes doing an admirable job of looking like they’re bouncing around a pinball machine. “Didn’t really know you had friends.”

Killian snorts into his coffee, and Emma is torn between scandalized and...mostly scandalized.

“I have friends,” Emma sputters. Graham does not look convinced. “Are you not my friend?” “I am your employee.” “Ok, well...yes, that’s technically true, but—” “—Do you want to share friendship bracelets, Em? Is that what you’re telling me?” “There’s no need to be a jerk about this.” “What about those little heart pendants? Where we each have half? Or is that too retro for us? We’re some kind of proper millennial relationship, right?” Emma scowls – an expression that is starting to become her default setting, and Killian is suspiciously silent. Until he isn’t.

“We had matching temporary tattoos one summer,” he says softly, and Graham nearly falls over. He doesn’t actually, which makes it eight-hundred thousand times worse, and Emma briefly considers drinking the coffee straight out of the pot.

She assumes burning her tongue beyond recognition will, somehow, ground her.

“That so?” Graham asks, voice going gruff and disbelieving. “What summer was this? Recently?” “Do you honestly think I am the kind of person who has had a temporary tattoo in recent history?” Emma mutters. Graham shrugs.

“I have a sudden and very strong suspicion I don’t know much about you at all, boss. It’s not for lack of trying, but…” He trails off in a way that makes Emma’s stomach twist uncomfortably, an allusion to almosts and possibilities that were never really either because Emma doesn’t like those words and she’s much better on her own.

It’s safer that way. Less connection, means less possibility for getting hurt. Or something.

She can’t really remember the reason for anything anymore, particularly when she can feel Killian’s eyes boring a hole in the side of her head and her pulse has only recently recovered from finding her apartment as empty as it normally is.

“If memory serves, Swan was eight,” Killian says, still speaking mostly into his coffee cup. “She’d gotten a rather disappointing mark in third-grade science.” Graham’s shoulders shake when he chuckles. “What kind of science is third grade science?” “The most basic science possible.” “That’s a complete and total lie,” Emma argues. “That was...there was that frog thing involved and I—” “—Resolutely refused to do the assignment,” Killian finishes. “Did you also get detention?” Emma nods, not as stunned as she probably should be that he remembers this so well. Although, he’d also gotten detention with her because if Swan isn’t going to dissect the frog, then I’m not either. “Ingrid was furious,” Emma says. “She said we were challenging authority and couldn’t I have just done what I was supposed to do for once in my life.” “I always thought that was a little heavy-handed. What did the frog ever do to you that it deserved to get cut up like that?” “Died, apparently.” Killian hums, the conversation drifting dangerously close to topics they absolutely cannot discuss in front of Graham. “That was awfully rude of him to do that.”

“Maybe. I’m not sure the frog would agree with that, though.” They stare at each other for a moment – metaphors and metaphorical dances of the conversational variety and Graham coughs pointedly when they don’t do anything else. “Anyway,” Killian says, a forced brightness to the word that makes Emma’s jaw clench. “Swan refused to cut apart the frog, Ingrid was very upset about it, as was the teacher, God, what was her name?” “Ms. Feinberg,” Emma answers. Honestly, Graham does not appear to be breathing at this point.

“That’s right. That’s right. She wore that ridiculous fur coat in the winter and—” “—We thought she could control the animals with her voice. Some kind of ridiculous magical thing that made a lot of sense when I was eight.” “Does it not make sense now?” Emma shrugs, not sure how she manages to stay upright when it feels as if the floor shakes under her feet. “How’d you get coffee?” “I’m absolutely incredible in unfamiliar situations,” Killian grins. He leans forward as he says it, another test of fate that Emma can’t voice and he knows she can’t voice and she’s going to have to give Graham an entire week off for subjecting him to whatever this might be. It feels like flirting. Again. “Also your coffee maker does not require me to be a rocket scientist, love.” Graham sounds like he’s choking.

“You ok?” Emma asks as he continues to sputter on oxygen.

“Yup, yup, yup,” Graham nods brusquely. “I’m fine. Totally fine. So, uh...you two knew each other when you were younger then? What was Emma like when she was a kid? Aside from the weird science thing.”

“It’s not weird to refuse to dissect a frog,” Emma hisses. “I was a kid. I liked animals.” She wishes she could come up with another phrase then kill him because that feels a little insensitive and Emma clearly doesn’t want to kill Killian, but he keeps laughing and pouring more coffee. He twists around, opening a cabinet he shouldn’t know is there and offers Emma a mug.

“I don’t know how you take your coffee, Swan,” he says quietly.

Emma reaches out slowly, careful not to touch his fingers and it’s as weird as possible – gripping the mug from the top while Graham’s actual head snaps back and forth. “Cream and three and a half sugars,” she says. “If it’s not espresso.” “You don’t have an espresso machine?” “It’s not that kind of restaurant. Espresso is way too new wave.” “New wave,” Killian echoes, but there’s nothing even resembling teasing in any of the letters. He says them as if he’s chasing them and they’re both still holding the goddamn mug.

“Yeah. I’m not...great at change, really. Like. At all, you know.” He lets go of the mug.

She doesn’t drop it. So, points to her or whatever.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Graham says. He waves both his hand through the air, as if that will clear it or make any of this make sense and maybe Emma should just give him two weeks off. “I am...very confused. I thought you knew each other. You…” He glances at Killian, blinking quickly. “I don’t know your name.” “That’s because I never told you,” Killian says.

“And?” “And...what?” “Ok, you’re really not going to tell me your name? Are you...Em, what the hell is going on right now?”

Emma shakes her head, not sure where to begin or how to explain and Killian is pouring her coffee. As if that’s a normal thing that is allowed to happen and the urge to run is almost overpowering. That’s always been her thing – even when she was eight years old and refused to follow the rules of a science class that was almost too dependent on rules and a classroom that smelled like formaldehyde no matter what they happened to be studying that week.

Emma does not do conflict. She does disappearing acts, her own personal brand of magic that’s served her and her slightly patched-together heart very well for the last twenty years, but that same heart is really only patched together because it was forced to run away from the man in front of her who, once upon a time, wouldn’t let her get in trouble by herself.

So she doesn’t run.

She swallows instead, biting back words and explanations and the very real desire to just scream as loud as she’s capable of.

“You want to double check on the napkin dispensers?” Emma asks, not actually looking at Graham and that does admittedly feel like kind of a dick move.

“I’m sorry, what? Was that the answer to the question? Seriously who the fu—” “The napkin dispensers,” she cuts in sharply. Emma turns her whole body when she speaks, hopeful that her face betrays the regret she feels festering in the tips of her fingers. “Just...you know make sure that they’re full.” “Are we expecting some kind of mad pie rush today?” “God, I hope not. Also, why are you here early?” Graham’s expression shifts – tremulous and clearly concerned about Emma’s immediate reaction to whatever he’s about to say. He glances Killian’s direction, but is only met with slightly interested eyebrows and a recently refilled coffee mug.

“You heard her,” Killian mutters. It’s not quite a threat, although Emma can’t stop the shiver that drifts down her spine and lingers in between her hips, a flash of cold that makes her wonder if they’ve suddenly time traveled to the middle of December.

He hops onto the edge of the counter when Graham’s mouth drops slightly, eyebrows still as high as ever and hackles almost visibly raised.

Emma has no idea what hackles even are.

“Hey,” she says, waving a dismissive hand as close as she can get to Killian without ensuring disaster. “What…” Emma trails off when she realizes she can’t formulate that question either, another head shake that makes her neck ache. “Alright,” she continues. “I want a straight answer Humbert. What are you doing here so early?”

Graham shuffles on his feet again. “Ruby called me. Late last night. Which, honestly I thought you were dead, but she promised you weren’t, just that you might be and—” “—I’m sorry, I might be?” “Emma, if you keep interrupting me, I’m never going to finish the story and I’ve got a jam-packed schedule of refilling napkin containers.” “Are they that empty?” “Emma!” "Fine, fine,” she grumbles, shooting a glare Killian’s direction when he dares to laugh at what may be her very real mental breakdown.

“I didn’t say a word, Swan,” he grins.

Graham coughs again, but it also sounds a bit like a groan and three weeks of vacation seems almost exorbitant. “Ruby called me,” he repeats. “Was certain there was something going on with you and that you were acting shady after you guys left here yesterday morning. She said she’d been doing some research and some names had come up and—” “—Wait, what kind of names?” Emma interrupts. Graham throws a strawberry out of the closest bowl at it, the fruit bouncing off her left hand and landing at her feet – rotten, again.

Killian slides off the counter.

“Do you mind giving us a couple of minutes?” he asks, stepping in front of Emma like he’ll be able to block her from the threat of the one waiter she employees. She has to dig her nails into her palms to resist touching him again, those ridiculous and inconvenient magnets proving particularly problematic once more.

She doesn’t hear whatever Graham says in response, is far too busy trying to figure out what the buzzing in the back of her head is. It sounds a bit like flies, or maybe a little more like bees, a hum and a sound that isn’t quite distracting, but feels a little powerful.

The noise grows the longer she stays in one place, as if it’s getting stronger or more intense, knocking at the edges of Emma’s consciousness. It feels a bit like a memory she forgot, but is desperate to remember and that doesn’t make any sense at all. It’s déjà vu, a familiarity and a reminder and it almost feels warm, like it’s wrapping its way around her shoulders and holding her tight and Emma doesn’t think it’s a threat.

She’s got no idea what the hell it is, but she doesn’t think it’s trying to hurt her.

It might be trying to help her.

Or remind her.

And she nearly jumps out of her skin when Killian tugs on the side of her shirt.

“Holy shit,” Emma growls, stumbling backwards. “What the hell were you thinking?” “You’re going to have to be more specific, Swan.” “What time did you get down here?” He shrugs, an air of nonchalance that’s far more frustrating with the noise that’s starting to ebb in between her ears. “Not long before you got here.” “Was Graham down here?” “No, he showed up in the middle of my quest for coffee. He’s fairly desperately in love with you, you know.” Emma blinks. “Ah, shut up,” she says before she can come up with a better retort and, that time, Killian’s answering laugh is almost warranted.

“Did you just tell me to shut up?” “Yes. You can’t...you can’t do, like, any of the things you have done in the last hour.” “I wasn’t aware of the rules.” “Well there are rules,” Emma snaps, and she knows it’s not his fault. He was dead yesterday. And now he’s not and that’s got to be messing with his head, no matter what he tells her. Even if he keeps staring at her that very particular way, as if she’s some kind of magical being descended from on high to...do something. Emma isn’t sure what yet.

Killian moves back towards the counter, grabbing the strawberries along the way. The whole thing is ridiculous. “And they are?” “You can’t come down here. Not...not without telling me or when Graham is down here and—” “—And just who exactly is Graham, Swan? He seemed quite interested in figuring out who I am.” “Because you aren’t supposed to be in the kitchen!”

“No, I don’t think that’s it. I think it’s because he’s hopelessly, inextricably head over heels in love with you and he made several different assumptions as soon as he saw me. Do you not often have men in your kitchen, love?” “That’s not even clever.” “And that’s a very pointed attempt at not answering the question.”

Emma huffs, crossing her arms, but that only serves to twist up her shirt and Killian’s eyes dart towards the suddenly obvious patch of skin above her right hip bone. “No,” she mutters. “That’s not...this has never happened before.” Killian eats another strawberry.

“And Graham, he doesn’t...he’s not a partner in your side endeavors?” Emma shakes her head. “He knows that sometimes I take elongated breaks that usually require Ruby to arrive, but other than that, no. He’s got no idea. No one does.” “Why not?” “Why not?” Emma balks, voice rising of its own accord. Killian’s face doesn’t shift, but she can see his tongue press on the inside of his cheek and that might be one of his tells. “No one can know that,” she presses. “It’s...that’s way more power than anyone should have. Life and death and—death.” “You said that twice,” Killian points out. His own voice drops, like it’s trying to balance out Emma’s near-shriek and she probably shouldn’t be taking comfort from it, but she can still dimly make out the buzzing in the back of her brain.

“I left Storybrooke and I got shipped around the country. I bounced around from group home to foster homes and houses and no one was ever even remotely interested in actually adopting me. One family tried to use me as a tax break, but that was as close as I got and it was never...it was never Ingrid. It was never you.”

She has to take a deep breath to stop herself from crying and Emma isn’t sure how the words keep coming, but Killian Jones is in her kitchen and everything seems to fall out of her without much concern about her set of rules.

“There was never anyone,” Emma continues. “So I learned to keep to myself and figure things out on my own and it’s better that way, don’t you think? No chance of making a mistake or doing something wrong and I’ve managed to rationalize the whole thing with Ruby.” “Justice being served, huh?” Killian asks knowingly.

“Yeah, exactly that.” “I can’t just stay in your apartment forever, love.” The endearment switch catches her off guard, a trend that Emma should really start expecting at this point. Nothing seems like it’s on even ground anymore.

“People know you’re dead,” Emma argues. “There were news reports and, well, you heard it. Your name was there and there were graphics and—”

“—All of that seems a little tacky, don’t you think?” “I’m not here to debate the merits of journalism with you.” “Then what are you going to do, Swan? Because I’m not going to stay cooped up forever. I can’t. I did that for a very long time and I won’t—”

“I told you,” Graham announces, turning towards the wide-open door of the restaurant where a fuming Ruby appears to be doing her best impression of carved marble. “Doesn’t he look just like that dead guy on the news?”

Emma drops the coffee mug in her hand.

“He looks exactly like that dead guy on the news,” Ruby seethes. She stands in the doorway for a few more moments, likely considering where to dump Emma’s body when she inevitably kills her, but then the clack of her heels moving towards the kitchen sounds impossibly loud and Emma regrets not getting dental insurance.

She’s got a feeling she’ll need it sooner rather than later.

“That’s super weird,” Graham continues, stuffing a handful of napkins into the container at table six. “Didn’t he die under suspicious circumstances?” “They don’t know,” Emma bites out. She chances a glance at Killian who, it seems, has also frozen, fingers wrapped around another strawberry.

Ruby’s laugh is distinctly lacking any humor. “Or so the reports go.” “I heard some rumors there was some shady stuff involved,” Graham says. Emma’s head is going to fly off her neck. That would be for the best – then she could ignore the whole situation entirely.

“What kind of shady stuff?” Graham shrugs, dropping the container back onto the table and every noise sounds magnified. Emma has to glance down to make sure there aren’t sparks shooting out of her fingers. There are not. That’s almost disappointing.

“Well they didn’t find anyone else there, did they?” Graham asks. “At the scene, I mean? Usually there’d at least be a suspect or something.” “Maybe you should be the PI,” Ruby drawls.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re hysterical, Lucas. I’m just saying. There should be DNA or something right? And they said he lost his hand. But...no hand at the crime scene.” “What?” Killian snaps, looking only slightly affronted when Ruby glares at him. “Where did it go?”

“Do you think I’m aware of dead peoples missing limbs?” Graham asks.

Emma’s never had an actual heart attack, so she can’t be entirely certain of what the symptoms are or what it actually feels like, but she assumes it sort of feels like this. Her arms feel too heavy for her body, hands like weights dragging her into the kitchen floor. Bobbing on her feet, she tries to dispel the extra energy she’s suddenly flush with and that can’t possibly be medicinal.

No one notices at first – Ruby far too busy asking Graham where he’s getting his sources and Graham snarking back and it’s not a surprise when Emma feels Killian’s gaze move back towards her and her tiny vertical jump.

“Swan,” he starts, leaning forward. “What…” “Oh, no, no, no,” Ruby shouts. Her hair hits the side of her face when she shakes her head, eyes bordering on dangerous and possibly tinted as red as the highlights in her hair. “No, no, you did not call her that. Is that...Humbert, you need to get out of here.” Graham drops another napkin container. “What? I work here, Lucas.” “I don’t care.” “You are not my boss.” “Get out of here, Humbert!” He lifts his hands in frustration, clearly waiting for Emma to object, but her jaw is stuck mid-clench and there is something wrong here and a heart attack probably shouldn’t last this long. “Fine” Graham growls. “Fine. You guys want to play secret and not act like this is the first time Emma has acknowledged there are other human beings on this planet, that’s fine with me.”

He’s gone in a huff of napkins and knocked over chairs, the bell on the door ringing loudly as soon as he slams it behind him.

And for half a moment Emma is almost hopeful they won’t say anything else. They’ll just stand there until the end of time when the meteors come and dinosaurs return or however the world is going to end and she’ll be able to avoid this particular brand of conflict.

“Emma.” No such luck. Killian is still staring at her.

“So, guess we’ve got some things to talk about, huh?” Ruby asks, more forced calm that’s almost worse than screaming and shouting and throwing fruit.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” “The truth would just...blow my mind.” Emma sighs, closing her eyes and trying to come up with something that’s even remotely possible and everything sounds worse than the last lie. “I couldn’t,” she whispers, staring at her shoes. Her shoes are less judgmental than the other two people in the kitchen.

“He is kind of dreamy. I think it’s the hair. Or the earring.” Emma lifts her head – Ruby grinning knowingly at her because Ruby knows that other rule and they’ll have to deal with that eventually. Preferably when Killian isn’t within hearing distance.

“I think my uncles thought it was a joke,” Killian murmurs, tugging lightly on the jewelry and the wisps of hair that curl just behind his ear. “I looked this morning. Just to make sure I wasn’t taking on any zombie-like characteristics.” “You’re not a zombie,” Emma groans. He grins at her.

“No harm in double checking. But I noticed the earring and that’s definitely Nemo’s, so...in the grand scheme I suppose it’s nice.” “Who’s Nemo?” Ruby asks, grabbing a pie off the counter and two forks. She hands one to Killian. And they’re all taking this surprisingly well.

Emma may be the only one who isn’t.

“The aforementioned uncle,” Killian says. “This one is good too, Swan.” “All Emma’s pies are good.” “Are you two bonding right now?” Emma demands. “Because that’s...Ruby are you not furious?” Ruby nods, tugging the fork out of her mouth slowly. “Oh I’m super pissed at you, but you’re currently exercising three of the five tells, so I figure you’re doing a really great job of beating yourself up already. Also I’ve got some news and, like, eighty-thousand questions.” “Only eighty-thousand?” Killian asks.

“At least. Don’t try and play cute with me though, Jones. I’ve got some very strong suspicions about you.” “Such as?” “You weren’t as naive about the situation as you told your girlfriend.”

Killian’s grip on the fork noticeably tightens and Emma should really clean up the puddle of coffee at her foot. It’s starting to seep into her sneaker. Maybe she should buy new sneakers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, and Emma’s breath catches because she’s incredibly familiar with that particular tone. It’s the same exact tone it was when he was seven and trying to convince Liam he’d only had one slice of pie at Ingrid’s.

And the tips of his ears go red.

Ruby shakes her head. “Incorrect. And as much as I hate to admit Humbert is ever right about anything, he does bring up a good point about your hand. What do you remember about that?” “Not much,” Killian lies.

“Nope, try again.” His eyes dart towards Emma’s, tongue flashing between his lips and it’s as if they’re standing on a tightrope above several dozen crocodiles or alligators, whichever are more dangerous, and there’s probably rain involved too. Just to make everything as slippery as possible.

“You said you’d already done the cooped up forever thing,” Emma whispers. “And you wouldn’t do it again. What did that mean?” “You ran and I stayed put, Swan.” “English, Jones.” The twist of his answering smile is enough to make Emma’s heart stutter against her rib cage. He tugs the pie plate out of Ruby’s hands, taking another exaggerated bite – eyes never leaving Emma. “Seriously, you should be winning awards for this,” he mutters. “And I didn’t actually lie to you before. I have no idea who actually killed me.” “But?” “But,” he repeats. “I’m not exactly the kid you remember.” “Who are you then?” Killian inhales, only to exhale even sharper and—”It’d really be much easier if I could hold your hand.” Ruby gags. “That’s not a line,” he promises. “That’s...it was always easier that way.” “Start at the beginning,” Ruby commands. He salutes again.

“My brother died when I was ten years old and it changed my entire life,” Killian explains. “For awhile I thought it ruined my entire life because it meant Emma was gone and, you know no one ever moved into your house, Swan?” She shakes her head, not sure what the right response to that is, but some twisted part of her is almost glad. “They didn’t,” Killian continues. “It was just there, forever, taunting me of what was gone and what wasn’t ever actually coming back. And, well, Shakespeare and Nemo were used to being on the road, but the acting troupe they’d be in for the decade before they got saddled with me...it was on its last legs. There’s no money in it and they sort of stumbled into guardianship without much prep or guidance and they didn’t...they sat in that house and they’d both seen so much already.

“You know Nemo’s ship was attacked once, that was part of the reason he wanted to avoid the bars on that port leave when he met Shakespeare and they’ve both dealt with so much shit from the world. They weren’t really….they weren’t really interested in the world anymore.” “But I bet you were, weren’t you?” Ruby asks, tugging on the plate again.

“Not at first. Well, no that’s a lie. I was a shit kid as soon as Swan was gone, always getting in trouble and blowing off class and I think I tried to run away no less than sixteen times before I actually turned sixteen.” “How would you get out of town?” Emma asks, hating how soft her question sounded.

Killian smirks “I never made it very far. You know Storybrooke, love, eyes everywhere and people gossiping even more. I think Cora Mills caught me trying to sneak out of my house even more than my uncles did.” “Oh she always gave me the creeps.” “You’re going to want to remember that in a second.” “Can you please put a pause on the flirting for, like, point two seconds so we can get on with the story?” Ruby groans. “Time, as they say, is a-slipping.” “You’re not very patient are you?” “It’s a family trait,” Emma mumbles. “You should meet her grandmother.” “Hey,” Ruby cries. “My grandmother taught me every PI trick I know. She’s the reason we’re going to find Jones’ killer and collect both rewards.”

Emma tenses. “Both rewards?” “Yeah, now you’re interested, aren’t you? Keep going Jones. This is almost interesting backstory.” “Almost interesting,” Killian chuckles, and they really should have each gotten their own pie. “Alright, alright. So Cora Mills—the mayor of Storybrooke,” he adds at Ruby’s questioning expression. “She’s been mayor since the dawn of time really, and she’s known I’ve been trying to get out Storybrooke for years, but I never did.” “Why not?” Emma asks, Killian’s hum of confusion feeling as if it lands between each one of her ribs. “I mean...couldn’t you?” “Eh, I’m sure I could have if I put my mind to it. But at some point around high school graduation, which was never entirely a guarantee for me, I realized that Nemo and Shakespeare were done with the world. They were tired of fighting it and tired of trying to find their place in it and—” “—You couldn't leave,” Ruby finishes, a note of sympathy in her voice that stuns Emma more than just about anything else that’s happened.

Killian hums again. The disappointment and regret in the sound is bitter on Emma’s tongue, and maybe she should be taking some adult-ed science classes because she’s clearly got no idea how any of this works, but she’s never seen that look on his face before.

As if the whole world has passed him by and left him in the metaphorical dust.

“They’d given up their whole lives for me,” he mumbles. “And we were good. For a very long time. I...well, I figured out how to make money and I had books.” “Books?” Emma repeats. “You had books?” “I like to read.” “Are you a nerd now?” “I wouldn't go that far. It’s a...hobby, possibly some kind of obsession depending on who you ask. Don't ask my uncles.”

“I promise.”

He smiles at her again – slow and genuine until that replaces the whatever in between Emma’s ribs and she feels as if she breathes normally for the first time since she woke up. Ruby sticks her entire tongue out.

There are berry stains on it.

“Is this going to be a thing now?” she shouts. “The flirting? Are we going to flirt our way through several different crime scenes?” Emma tilts her head. “Are there more than one crime scene?” “There might be if Jones doesn’t get better at telling us his goddamn life story. Also, the less sarcastic answer is maybe because I’ve got news, but seriously the life story. If you were good with the shut-ins, why did you leave?” Killian doesn’t answer immediately, and the tension in between his shoulder blades is almost too obvious. Emma isn’t sure she hears him at first. And then she’s not sure she wants to.

“Nemo got sick,” he says. “Suddenly and...badly? Is that the right word? It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t great and so I was trying to figure out a way to get some money and an opportunity presented itself.” “How?” “Remember creepy Cora Mills?” Emma hates that her jaw drops, but she can’t stop it and she knows this is not a good story. She didn’t expect it to be a good story and it is, somehow, even worse. “What could she possibly offer you?” “Money,” Killian shrugs. “And the chance to get out of Storybrooke, which given the situation paints me in a particularly asshole-light, but that’s always been kind of my MO too and—” “That’s not true.” “You haven’t known me for a very long time, Swan.” “I don’t believe that.” Melting certainly isn’t the right word for whatever happens to Killian’s expression. Emma doesn’t care. It’s the first word her mind comes up with and latches onto, in some misplaced effort to maintain control of a decidedly out of control situation, and she wishes she could hold his hand.

Too. Or still.

Or always.

Honestly, whatever.

“Thanks,” Killian mutters. “I promise it’s warranted in this situation. I was getting desperate. I never went to college and I couldn't figure out what to do or who to ask.” “No girlfriend to help, then?” Ruby asks archly, ignoring whatever noise Emma makes at that particular question. “What? First of all, that’s a genuine question. Because if there is a girlfriend, then we should probably prepare ourselves for her arrival in defense of Jones’ previously discussed very dreamy face and, second of all, if there is a girlfriend, she probably should have helped him rob a bank or something.” “Are we advocating bank robbing now?” Emma fumes, her anger having nothing to do with the sanctity of the American banking system.

“No girlfriend,” Killian says. Emma wrings her hands together. So, naturally, Ruby notices. “Anyway, Cora found me one day and told me she had an opportunity if I was interested.” “And were you?”

“I didn’t see any other option, really. It made sense when she explained it. I had to get on the ship and—” “—Wait, wait, there was a ship involved?” Ruby asks.

“Yeah, a cruise. To uh...shit, where was it to?” “We weren’t on the ship.” “That wasn’t the important part that’s why,” Killian mutters. “It was Tahiti or something. But I was told that I wasn’t supposed to do any of the onshore stuff they do. You know, zip lining and...swimming with sharks or whatever.” “The thought of that always freaked me out,” Ruby muses.

“Yeah, me too actually. They say it’s safe, but—” “Can we focus, please?” Emma exclaims, met with two wide-eyed expressions for that especially emotional outburst. “Sorry, sorry, just...what were you supposed to be doing on this boat? Oh my God, are you some kind of drug mule?” Killian makes a face, ridiculous enough that Emma has to dig her heels into the ground to make sure she doesn’t try to do something absurd like kiss it off. The rules of the universe can suck it, honestly.

“Are you kidding me?” “You’re the one who said I didn’t know you anymore!” “I was not a drug mule,” Killian sighs, dropping his fork so he can run his fingers through his hair. “I was...a water mule.” “What does that mean?” “Cora said that once we got to the island, there’d be some people getting on the ship who had something for me. I was supposed to bring it back.” “Did you meet these people?” Ruby asks, business-like and Emma knows she wishes she had a notepad of some kind. She pulls her phone out of her jacket pocket.

“Yeah, that was kind of the problem.” “How so?”

Killian doesn’t shudder, but it’s awfully close, a nervousness to him that doesn’t match up with anything Emma knows about him. “There was a whole group of them. Each one of them shadier than the next and they all spoke in grunts, I swear.” “Sounds like lackeys.” “Yeah, probably. They didn’t know anything about Cora though, so the orders were coming from higher up and that’s kind of when I realized I’d gotten into something I wasn’t particularly interested in.” “What do you think that was?” “I don’t know exactly,” Killian admits. “But one of the goons handed me a vial of something that was, maybe, filled with water, demanded my immediate and complete silence and told me his boss was expecting me when I got back to New York.” “New York?” Emma asks. “That’s where the ship left from. I asked this guy what exactly it was I was supposed to be moving and how I was supposed to get it through security.” “I’m sure he didn’t appreciate that,” Ruby chuckles.

“He did not, actually. He told me to shut my mouth and do my job and that, this is where it gets weird, his master wouldn’t be pleased if I deviated from the schedule.” Ruby’s eyebrows pull low. “He switched from boss to master?” “Weird, right?” “Super weird. And incredibly creepy. So what did you do after that?” “I told him that I thought there was a mistake,” Killian says with a laugh that sounds full of a slightly different brand of regret. “And that I wasn’t interested in shipping whatever product they were trying to move. I don’t remember much after that, but I do remember the vial falling and breaking. Goons one through six were not very happy about that. There was a lot of moanful grunting about it.” “There were six of them?” Emma breathes, not nearly as confident as she’d like to be. She rocks backwards on her heels when Killian slides off the counter, ignoring whatever Ruby is doing with all of her limbs as she steps into her space.

There haven’t been very many moments in Emma’s life that stick. She’s made sure of it, run from the thoughts and the feelings and the relationships for years. This moment, however, seems determined to linger and fester and that second word is absolutely wrong.

It doesn’t fester. It grows – the buzzing returning until it sounds like someone’s turned the metaphorical volume up as high as it will go on Emma’s life and soul and, possibly, the magic she’s done her best not to acknowledge for the last twenty years.

None of that, however, holds a candle to whatever look settles on Killian’s face. It’s not quite understanding – there’s still that pesky rule hanging over their heads and she’ll tell him the truth at some point, eventually, she will – but for right now, this moment, she wants to memorize every shift of his face, the twitch of his lips and the turn of his eyebrows, hair falling almost artfully across his forehead when he tilts his head slightly.

He doesn’t look scared of her. And, really, that’s what makes all the difference because Emma’s been a little scared of what she can do and terrified of what everyone else will do if they find out about her, but Killian just takes another step towards her and smiles as if everything is normal or could be normal and—

“I’m fine, love,” he promises. “I’m very good at surviving.” Ruby scoffs. The moment ends – with Killian’s hand hovering just a breath away from Emma’s side. “Right, right,” Ruby mumbles. “Sure you are. That’s all very well and good and everything, but you’ve thrown a very large wrench into a case that already makes a negative amount of sense. Plus, you know...you’re supposed to be dead.” “I think we’ve covered that several times, Rubes” Emma mutters.

“And I don’t think Jones died in Storybrooke.” Emma is very glad they’re not open until ten. Ruby’s proclamation rings out in the empty restaurant, bouncing off walls and tables and half-filled napkin containers. It hangs there, taunting and teasing and it can’t possibly be true.

It can’t possibly be...not true.

“I think you died on that boat, Jones,” Ruby adds, rolling her eyes when Killian mutters the technical term is ship under his breath. “And I really don’t care about that. But I think the goons killed you then and there and moved you to Storybrooke because you were some kind of very dreamy recluse who, if we’re keeping up appearances, should be dead in your hometown.” “But then why is Cora the one with the reward money?” Emma counters. “She’s the one who set this whole thing up.” “Unless she doesn’t really know who she was working for. Or she didn’t expect Jones to show up dead. Or she’s a little nervous about her own safety because Jones did show up dead. There’s plenty of reasons. All of which I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to answer when we go pay her a visit.” Emma does her best to form actual words. She does. It does not end well. And Ruby snickers at her. “Five figures, Em,” she says, pausing between each word to really drive her point home. “And whatever the uncles have offered now.” Killian jerks his arm back to his side. “They did what?” “Oh yeah, it’s not as much as Madam Mayor, but it’s a good amount and I think they’ve got some suspicions about you and your little jaunt to the...what water is Tahiti in? That doesn't matter. What does matter is that there’s more money being floated around and that means that more eyes are going to be on this and it’s in our best interest to figure it out.” “Don't you think that’s dangerous?” Emma asks, fighting the itch to start mixing something.

“Oh, I think it’s incredibly dangerous. Except we’ve got a living, breathing dead person in this kitchen who’s involved in some kind of shady something and those same shady somethings will probably be very interested in him being alive. So solving Killian Jones’ murder seems to be our only option at this point.” Killian smiles at Emma – as if he’s won a competition they absolutely were not staging. She groans. “This is not a victory for you,” she hisses. “This is...how do you expect to just go outside? Graham knew who you were.” “He suspected,” Killian corrects. “And I’ll wear a hat. And sunglasses.” “Your ears look ridiculous in a hat.” “I hate to be that person, but I don’t think we should be all that worried about the fashion choices of the dead here,” Ruby says.

“And you’re very worried about your own fashion choices.” “Ok, that’s rude. I am worried about you. Incredibly so, in fact. Because we’ve got a good thing going here and I...well, I am worried about you. That’s the headline.” It’s not a particularly impassioned speech, but it may be the most emotional Ruby’s gotten since Emma ran into her perp in an alley. Her heart strings are, effectively, tugged. And the guilt in the pit of her stomach churns.

That’s less pleasant. “Fine,” Emma snaps, like she had any chance of convincing either one of them otherwise. “Fine. Let’s all solve a goddamn murder then. It’s not like I had pie to bake.” “Should be award-winning pie,” Killian adds. They’re definitely flirting. “And I’m serious about 30-30-40. Except from my uncles. That’s...there’s got to be a line, you know?” Ruby stops pouring the coffee Emma hadn’t realized she’d started pouring. “What exactly does that mean? Exactly?” “You said that twice.” “I’m going to get Emma to touch you.” “God, Rubes, that’s dark,” Emma grumbles. She’s run out of coffee.

“I think I should get the forty percent of the reward because I died,” Killian says, easy as well, pie. “And we’re not taking money from my uncles. Nemo’s still sick. There’s gotta be some kind of morality clause in your familial PI code, right?” Ruby considers that for a moment before bursting out into a laugh that is so loud Emma glances at the walls to make sure the paint hasn’t been chipped. She’s still doubled over nearly thirty seconds later, body shaking and tears in her eyes and it’s a little concerning, but also kind of nice because it sounds real and Killian is still standing far too close to Emma.

Like he can’t bring himself to move.

“Yeah, yeah, that does seem fair actually,” Ruby nods, laughter still clinging to her words. “It wasn’t in the original instruction manual, but I doubt Granny was really prepared for people coming back from the dead.” “Magic’s got a way of sneaking up on you like that.” “I guess it does. And I guess we’re going back to Storybrooke, huh?” Killian hums, a barely visible shift of his weight that’s really a dismissal without the words. Ruby almost looks impressed. “I’ll, uh...I’ll give you guys a second.”

Emma needs to take the bell off her door.

It’s far too loud, particularly when she can’t hear Killian breathing next to her. He turns on the spot, quick enough that Emma feels like she has to blink to make sure it’s really happening. It is. He’s still there.

Looking at her.��

“Are you alright?” she asks, desperate to say something before he can. She’s a great, big, giant coward really.

Killian’s mouth quirks up again. “Still as fine as advertised. And you stole my question, actually.” “There’s not anything to be worried about.” “With you or the situation in general?” “Me. Always.” “That’s a decidedly depressing mindset, Swan. I’d very much like to worry about you, at least for the time being. And I know there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Emma startles at the certainty there, the distinct lack of blinking or confusion. He’s positive. And he’s right. She makes another absurd noise. “I don’t know anything about you,” she points out. “It’s...we’re in the middle of something here and I just, well—”

“Why is it a minute?”

“Why is what a minute?” “This whole magical side of you,” Killian says. “A minute seems incredibly arbitrary. It’s not a lot of time to do anything productive.” “You’d be surprised.”

He chuckles, tongue doing something incredibly unfair again. “You know I haven’t often been jealous of other people, but it seems to be a trend for me this morning.” “That’s ridiculous. Graham is not...we’re not like that.” “You may not be, Swan, but he certainly is. And I can’t say I blame him.” “That felt like flirting,” Emma accuses.

“It was absolutely flirting. Was that not obvious? That’s frustrating. I am, admittedly, out of practice though, so...” “That’s surprising actually.”

“Is that a compliment?”

Emma nods, taking a step back to try and maintain her sanity. It seems to be slipping through her fingers the longer they stay in that kitchen. “I’m kind of out of practice with the flirting thing too,” she admits. “But, yes, it was meant to be. And, again, there’s no reason to be jealous. I’m talking to dead people.” “And then dead’ing them again.” “Usually.” “Alright, so we’ll work on the flirting then,” Killian promises, and Emma resents whatever her pulse does at that. He certainly hears it. “But why the minute? Did you decide that?” “A minute is a very long time. Plus, the longer someone is alive who isn’t really supposed to be alive, the more likely something is going to go wrong and people get very preachy when they realize life and death is in the balance.”

“I’m still here though. You’ve avoided kissing me on multiple occasions.” “That’s what you're worried about?” “Not in the way you’re thinking. Well, partially in the way you’re thinking, but mostly in the way that you said you’ve never done this before, right?” Emma nods. “And you don’t have some boyfriend aside from the love-struck waiter.” A less enthusiastic nod. Killian’s smile widens. “So,” he continues, leaning around her to grab something she can’t possibly be bothered looking at. “My main question before we dive into the seedy underbelly of the world is...why me?” “I told you that already,” Emma whispers, and she is not emotionally prepared to deal with this many emotions this early in the morning. Or ever. She can’t believe she still has so many emotions about Killian Jones. She desperately wants to brush his hair away from his eyebrows.

“No, you did a rather horrible job of avoiding the question. So, I’ll ask you one more time, love, why didn’t you let me go?” Emma opens her mouth – certain I couldn’t will come spilling out of her, again and on loop, but she meets his gaze and it’s all too much and not enough. He’d know if she was lying anyway.

“I just thought it made more sense,” she says. “To have you there. I...I thought my life might be...better if you were in it. You know, again.” He’s infuriatingly quiet or a moment, gaze penetrating. That’s not altogether uncomfortable either. Emma doesn’t blink.

And, that, that, eventually seems like the turning point because it’s in that moment she realizes what exactly Killian is holding.

Saran wrap.

He moves quickly, leading with his head so as not to touch her with anything else. The saran wrap isn’t perfectly tight between his fingers, a strange balancing act with only five fingers, but Emma’s too stunned to worry about that for too long and then she’s too amazed to be stunned and she’s wanted to kiss him since she saw him.

Again.

She moves forward, the taste of plastic on her tongue when she presses her lips against his. Her arms twist behind her, determined not to give into the metaphorical magnets that feel as if they’re yanking on Emma and begging her to card her fingers through Killian’s hair.

She fists her hands, but she doesn’t pull away. Part of her is stunned, toying with fate and fire and the rules of the world, but the rest of Emma is screaming out in triumph, desperate to press her mouth closer to Killian’s, to breathe him in until he’s found his way back into the middle of everything.

It feels impossibly easy.

It always felt like that.

Emma makes a noise, almost a groan and possibly a sigh and she can feel Killian’s smile through the twisted up saran wrap. Their noses bump.

“I can’t believe you did that,” she mumbles, not moving her head away. His laugh times up with the buzzing in her ears.

“Consider it a well-executed science experiment.” “What would you have done if it didn’t work?” Killian shrugs. “I was pretty confident it would work.” “That’s not an answer.” “I really, really, really wanted to kiss you.”

He bunches up the saran wrap before Emma can object, another quick press to her cheek that isn’t really to her cheek and she feels like she’s floating. She’s not sure she’s ever felt like that.

Ruby groans when she walks back into the restaurant.

“Oh my God,” she sneers. “Is this our new normal? Because if it is, I’m taking my own car. Or that bus. It wasn’t really that bad.” “You made her take the bus, Swan?” Killian asks, tossing the saran wrap in the trash. Emma probably shouldn’t regret that.

“I was trying to figure out how to get you away from your own coffin.” He beams at her. Ruby throws several napkins across the restaurant.

“Can we go solve a murder, please? I’m sure Madam Mayor is very busy.” Emma takes a deep breath, glancing at a still-smiling Killian and the slight flush to his cheeks. She’s a little proud she put that there. “Yeah,” she nods. “Let’s go solve a murder.”

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #K I S S I N G

23 notes · View notes

askthetotallynotdehsquad · 5 years

Note

kleinsen being good and soft

Ava: teehee (Evan doesn’t know Jared likes him yet)

——————

Evan: *packing bc he’s sleeping over at Jared’s house??*

Jared: *puking up flowers and blood cause hanahaki*

Evan: *knocks on the Jared’s door* Jaredddddddd

Jared: f-fuck um- oNE S-SECOND- *pukes more and one whole flower and then stops cause thats all of them for today lol xD*

Evan: *puts his headphones on bc he’s waiting??*

Jared: *cleans up the bathroom and wipes his eyes cause he was crying cause it hurt and puts the flower in a bowl where he kept all of them cause it's a water lily cause I like them and opens the door for evan* hi, sorry I took so long, come in

Evan: *puts his headphones around his neck* it’s fine dude *walks in* I haven’t been here in forever oh my god-

Jared: *rubs the back of his neck* heh- yeah

Evan: *looks at thy Jared very concerned* you okay dude? I’m surprised you haven’t made a joke by now

Jared: im surprised you haven't kissed a tree! I'm fine, lol

Evan: *giggly boye* you sure?- Wait, why are your eyes so red? Are you smoking weed?!

Jared: um- yes?

Evan: uh- where should I put my bags? I don’t know if any of the house rules changes- since last time you didn’t let me touch anything-

Jared: we can bring them to my room cause thats where we're sleeping I guess

Evan: okay? *runs upstairs and falls in the process* OW

Jared: oh shoot- are you okay? *runs over to evan*

Evan: yeah- I just tripped that’s all! *smiley boye* *walks into thy Jared’s room*

Jared: *follows the evan* uh so you can sleep on my bed and I can sleep on the floor or whatever

Evan: dude it’s your house- I’ll sleep on the floor-

Jared: well like you’re the guest or something I don’t know

Evan: hhhhhh *flops on his bed* what do you wanna do

Jared: I dont know- wanna watch a movie?

Evan: sure! *sits up and sits against the pillows*

Jared: *sits next to evan* ummm... let's watch..... uh.... *puts on Hercules cause yes* this.

Evan: dork *giggly boye*

Jared: *red boye* shush-

Evan: wow Jared Kleinmen is blushing, from Evan Hansen- who ever thought

Jared: ugh- *hides face* i hate you tree man

Evan: love you too bathbomb

Jared: *feels a lump in his throat because I researched and like if you get affection from the person you love the symptoms get worse* um- i need to use the bathroom be right back *walks to the bathroom*

Evan: okay!

Jared: *locks the door and starts hanahaki-ing for like 5 minutes*

Evan: *walks to the bathroom door and knocks on it* you okay dude?

Jared: yep! I'm g-good just give me a s-second- *hanahki-s a full water lily cause thats what his flower is apparently* *also thats how he knows it's over for now*

Evan: okay! I’ll be in your room- I’ll pause the movie for you!

Jared: o-okay! *coughs up some more blood and cleans up*

Like- 5 minutes later: skskksksk

Jared: *walks in to his room and puts the lily in the water bowl*

Evan: you have...water Lily’s in your...bathroom?

Jared: a lot has changed, evan. *sigh* a lot

Evan: *sighs and hugs the Jared*

Jared: *blushes and hugs the tree* soooooo... why are you hugging me?

Evan: you seemed sad- and you don’t get enough love

Jared: *metaphorically melts into the hug and lays his head on Evans shoulder*

Ali: (I'm sorry im so used to being a bottom)

Ava: (Dont worry dude bc same)

Evan: *ruffles the Jared’s hair* you okay?

Jared: ......huh? What? Wait yeah I'm good haha *stops hugging the evan and is v red* so uh- wanna keep watching the movie?

Evan: sure! *sits on his bed and closes the blinds so it can be dark* it’s like a real movie theater!

Jared: yeah! *in his mind cause I feel like it 😋 (how in the fucking fuck can someone be so god damn cute-)

Ava: dang Jared

Evan: *unpauses the movie and leans against the pillows* *puts an oversized hoodie on uwu*

Jared: *(what in the frick frack cracker jack)

Evan: *rests his head on Jared’s shoulder teehee*

Jared: *blushblushblush*

Evan: is it bad I’ve never seen this movie-

Jared: I mean i dont know I guess?? *worried he'll have another hanahaki attack with all this love ;-;*

Evan: Jared...are you okay? Ever since I got here you’ve looked like you’re going to throw up- should I leave?

Jared: nonononono!!! It's fine!! I'm fine!!

Evan: *hugs the Jared from the side* no you arentttttt

Jared: e-evan i- *starts coughing up blood*

Ali: (he wasn't gonna confess he was just flustered :/)

Evan: holy shoot! Oh my god!- *runs to get towels*

Jared: *keeps coughing up blood and now- some flower petals*

Evan: *comes back with towels and sits down in front of Jared then looks at him* here du- are those...flowers?

Jared: n-no. Y-y-yes? *starts sobbing cause it hurts a lot ouchies* i-im s-so-sorry *coughs up more petals and blood*

Evan: hey hey hey- it’s okay Jare- I know what this is- cough it all up *rubs his back*

Jared: *starts coughing up wayyy more and even some full lilys bc like I said affection makes it worse*

Evan: oh shoot sorry! I forgot- *steps away from the Jared*

Jared: *coughs up a bit more and one like- huge heccin lily thats glowy pink (normally theyre white) :0*

Evan: oh my god..-

Jared: i-im sorry I'll- I'll clean this up- *starts cleaning up quickly and gently puts the pink one in the center of the bowl*

Evan: y-you like m-m-me..-

Jared: what?! No thats- thats insane haha-

Evan: y-yeah....insane

Jared: *picks up the bowl, sits down, and puts it on his lap* *oh and pushes them around gently with his finger*

Evan: Jared....can I um...tell you something?

Jared: hm?

Evan: I um....please don’t hate me- but...Ive liked you for awhile now. You’ve been really nice to me lately and I never knew why, but now I do. It’s fine if you have hanahaki because of Connor- it’s fine if you don’t like me- I’m just hoping this doesn’t trigger it-

Some of the smaller flowers: *die*

Jared: wait- wait hold up- wait- wait really? *starts crying* no no... no youre just playing with me- this is all a dream- stop- no-

Evan: Jared, I’m not messing with you...you aren’t dreaming- I like you

Jared: ohmygosh- oh- ohmygosh- *puts the bowl back down on the table and is still muttering ohmygosh to himself* *blushy boye*

Evan: *laughs a little* calm down Jare

Jared: *sits back down and looks at the ground* you know... I had.. that was 29 flowers.. one more and.. I wouldve died......

Evan: am I allowed to like...- touch you now?

Jared: yeah-

Evan: *hugs the jared*

Jared: *leans on the evan*

Evan: *pulls away from the Jared and looks at him then....kisses him teehee*

Jared: *flustered for a moment but then kisses him back*

Evan: Jared, I- I love you

Jared: I love you too you dweeb *kisses him agian but more make-outy?????*

Ava: Ali what-

Evan: *big blush man*

Jared: *pulls apart and gives him a look like is this okay cause catie told me once that you should do that*

Ali: (shush I dont know what words are)

Evan: *laughs* Jared you are such a dork, I love it

Jared: w-wELL-?!

Evan: *giggly boye*

Jared: *smiles* just kiss me already you acorn *kisses the evan agAiN*

Evan: *kisses thy Jared*

Jared: *runs his fingers through thy Evans hair*

Ava: Ali- where is this going

Evan: *big blush man*

Jared: *makes out with evan wow I did it im proud of myself :)*

-later-

Evan: *his hair is all messed up* so that happened-

Jared: *red boye* yeah-

Evan: you’re a good kisser Kleinmen

Jared: *giggle sk* no u

Evan: uno reverse card *giggle sk*

Jared: ugh fineeeeee- *fixes his glasses cause they were tilted cause ;)*

Evan: well I never got to watch the movie- I guess I’m too hot to handle

Jared: pretty much

Evan: o-oh I was j-joking- *hides under the blanket*

Jared: *giggles* youre such a dweeb

Evan: *still under the blanket* shushhhh

Jared: *goes under the blanket and cuddles the evan*

Evan: *pink boye* *wraps his arms around the Jared*

Jared: *falls asleep*

-a couple hours later-

Evan: *poking thy Jared* Jareeeeee wake uppppp

Jared: *wakes up* momm its nott- oh hey evan-! *blush boy*

Evan: I never knew I looked like your mom *laughs*

Jared: nO thats disgusting eww- she just- normally wakes me up on Saturdays thinking its school. She's werid.

Evan: how- it’s Saturday?? I can’t even remember anymore

Jared: *shrugs* I have a good memory I guess

Evan: I’m just gonna say, I never thought in a million years, the Jared Kleinmen would like cuddles

Jared: *giggles* oh evan you dont even know

Evan: what else are you hiding from me

Jared: *becomes way to red to even speak* noTHINg-

Evan: tell meeeeeee pweaseeeee

Jared: *hides under his blanket* nO-

Evan: Jared I swear to god if you’re kinky like my brother-

Jared: no ew gross what huh

Evan: tell me Jare Bearrrrr

Jared: no-

Evan: hmmmmmm okay fineeeee *stares at the Jared* you’re really pretty...-

Jared: youre really hot

Evan: oh I- I- um..- *v v v v v v red*

Jared: *giggly boye*

Evan: that was very unnecessary Kleinmen *crosses his arms while being v v v red*

Jared: it's true

Evan: *puts his hand on his cheek and kisses him teehee*

Jared: *pulls him closer and kisses him back*

Evan: this is very gay

Jared: *finger guns* yeperino!

Evan: *giggly boye* you are so weird, but I love you

Jared: can we get back to kissing? (Please? Yo. Every action has an-)

Ava: equal opposite reaction-

Evan: o-oh y-yeah- *kisses the Jared*

Jared: *kisses the evan but ~~ly*

Evan: *is basically in Jared’s lap at this point-*

Jared: *has his arms wrapped around Evans hips ;))*

Evan: *has his arms wrapped around Jared’s neck;))*

Jared: *kisses evan but more ;))-y*

Evan: *big blush man*

Jared: *keeps kissing Thy evan shook :0*

Evan: okay Jared calm down *giggly boye*

Jared: *shrugs* youre just a really good kisser, acorn *stares at Thy evan smiling :)*

Evan: shush bathbomb

Jared: *in an amazingly good British accent because I feel like Jared would have a amazingly good British accent* oh evan my good sir, youre such a peach *kisses Evans hand* now if you'll excuse me for a moment, i shall go get food *goes to get food*

Evan: Jared wha- dork!

Jared: *yells from the kitchen* treeboy!

Evan: Adorable!

Jared: goddamn you! *comes back to his room and he has um.. spaghetti* f o o d

Evan: my mom knew this was going to happen- she knew you liked meeeeeeee *looks at the Jared*

Jared: well your mom is smart *we eating*

Evan: oh and I uh- I bought you something the other day- *gives him a bathbomb*

Jared: you know me so well *wipes a fake tear from his eye* ironically, i got something for you! *goes under his bed and grabs a succulent and gives it to evan* you can name it if you want-

Evan: *:0* I love it!! *hugs the Jared*

Jared: yay! *hugs the evan*

Evan: *snuggles in the Jared XD owo*

Jared: *plays with evans hair 0w0*

Evan: jare...will you be my boyfrienddddd

Jared: *straight face* no of course not... *smiles really wide and kisses the evan* dUDE OF COURSE!!! *v v smiley boye*

Evan: *breaks into a giggly fit and falls out of the Jared’s grip* yayyyyy

Jared: *teehee* hey evannnn guess whattttttttttttttttttt

Evan: whatttttttt

Jared: I love you *giggly boye oWO

Evan: I love you toooo!

Jared: so what are you gonna name the little guy? *sits on the ground with evan cause he fell or something and puts thy succulent in his lap*

Evan: hm...jelly bean!

Ali: im gonna make jared be able to do any accent really well and you can't stop me

Jared: *commits cowboy accent* howdy there jelly bean what are you doin' round these here parts

Evan: Jared what the hell!? *laughing*

Jared: *starts laughing too and is still committing cowboy accent* what? this is how I talk! Ya got a problem with that mister? *laughing so much sksjsksmskk*

Evan: n-no! This is just- *continues laughing*

Jared: *dies laughing and back to normal jared voice* jelly bean is beautiful

Evan: oh welcome back Jared, you got possessed by a cowboy

Jared: Oh my gosh I did?! *finger guns the air and looks around frantically* wOODY I KNOW YOU'RE HERE! I'LL SHOOT!! *trying not to laugh*

Evan: *cant breathe from laughing* oh my god-

Jared: *falls onto Evans lap* ohmygosh *dying laughing* i can't

Evan: *dying laughing* since when could you do all those accents?!

Jared: *shrugs* since forever I guess? I can do a lot more

Evan: oh lord please no

Jared: *giggles* okay okay- what do you wanna do now?

Evan: I don’t knowwwwwww

Jared: *puts jelly bean on the counter* wannaaaaaaa watch a horror movie??

Evan: okay! *sits under the blanket on the Jared’s bed* (it still looks like a movie theater in his room-*

Jared: *sits next to evan and puts on the man man bye*

The first death: wassup

Evan: *clings onto Jared’s arm*

Ali: oh my gosh it's literally the opposite of us

Jared: evan it has barely been 10 minutes in-

-Half way through the movie-

Evan: *screams*

Jared: *wraps his arms around evan* evy do you wanna turn it off? *genuinely concerned*

Evan: n-no it’s fine

Jared: oookayyy... *still worried*

-a bit more than halfway in-

Evan: *falls asleep*

Jared: *gently moves evan so he's laying down, turns off the tv, cuddles him and falls asleep too*

-next Day-

Evan: *wakes up* Jare bearrrr

Jared: *talks in his sleep cause I need to do this* *sleep giggles? Shut up okay* awee my little evy wevy

Evan: *big blush man but laughs and pokes the Jared*

Jared: *awakens and sees thy evan* oh h-hi evan- *big big big blush man*

Evan: how long have you dreamed of me Jare? *smiley boye*

Jared: w-well um- y-you see y-you i- um- *flustered gay distress increces*

Evan: what happened in that little “evy wevy” dream of yours

Jared: nOThIng-

Evan: awe c’mom tell your little Evy Wevy

Jared: *blushes deeper :0* nO-

Evan: okay okay- you can go back to sleep if you want baby

Jared: *is redder than a tomato* baby???? *dying* did you just call me baby??? *dying even more like wtf*

Evan: *shaking his head* mhm

Jared: *hides his face* evan why do you do this to me

Evan: awe because I cannnnn

Jared: oh my gosh *dying blushing woah*

Evan: *kisses thy Jared*

Jared: *kisses thy evan back*

Evan: *kisses his forehead* go back to sleep baby

Jared: fineeeeeeee *lays down with his head on Evans lap and falls asleep*

Evan: *gently moves Jared and lays down*

Jared: *clings onto evan*

Evan: *asleep*

Heidi: Evan sweetie it’s time to come ho- AWWWWWW

Jared: *stays asleep and clings onto evan tighter*

Evan: *whisper yells* mom what the hell! Go away!-

Heidi: I am posting this on Facebook! *walks away*

Jared: *nuzzles evan*

Ali: NUZZLES YOU OWO

Evan: *goes to get up but Jared won’t let him* Jare, I have to leave

Jared: *still a singular sleep*

2 notes · View notes

alex-baebae · 6 years

Text

Immaculate

Chapter 7

Pairing: TOP X READER

I took my keys in no time and ordered my car to be near the building's access to its parking lot. "Sweetie let's go" he walked dazed, of course I helped him so he wouldn't fall over.

As soon as we entered in the elevator he vomited a little again, I took off my jacket and gave it to him "Don't worry just throw it here" I was so terrified, I cannot describe that horrible feeling. Despite he wasn't vomiting so much, it was still red.

We got into the car "go to aunt's home, quickly" the car started to move, TOP was next to me holding my jacket which was coated with his blood and vomit. His hands were not blooding anymore, the bandages helped a lot also protected his injuries from the stomach acid.

I wanted to cry, I felt so bad. I called my aunt "what's going on, _____?" she fortunately answered his phone quick "are you at home now?" I said desperately "yes, yes, are you okay?" She answered worried "yes I'm okay but my friend is not, we're going to your house now" I explained her "okay just calm down, what symptoms do they have?" She asked "he's vomiting, he threw a blood cot and his vomit still has blood" I told her as the car parked in front of the house which was not so far from my apartment "we're here please open the doors" I left the car and ran to TOP's side, the door opened by itself, I took his arm to help him, my aunt ran to help him too. TOP was trying his best to not fall over, my aunt guided us inside her house, "have a sit, I'll check him" she said.

Sometimes later, TOP was a little better. My aunt gave him something to inhibit the vomit so he wouldn't harm more his esophagus.

"Although is not so much serious, we have to take him to the clinic. He must be keeping under observation" she said "he has a gastric ulcer due to a bacterial infection, it must be treated" she added. "Could we talk about this situation in the kitchen?" I asked her "sure" she went to the place I said "I'm going to talk about your illness with my aunt, don't be scared okay?" I told him, he nodded then I kissed his head.

"Aunt... I have something important to tell you" I said looking directly at her "what's wrong?" She said. In summary I told her quickly all the story you all know.

We went to the clinic. A new and fancy room was waiting for TOP, it was at the clinic's basement. The rooms at the basement were kind of expensive because they had its own bathroom, two beds, arm chairs and even a small table for the diseased's companion's comfort.

She told me that was a nice place for TOP, basically nobody can enter there unless they were allowed by her, and other reason of it's expensiveness was that those rooms were far away from the polluted air. Fortunately that clinic was my aunt's property, so we were safe and sound there.

"TOP, how do you feel now?" I asked kneeling on his bed's side "good" he said "we are going to be here for some days, but I promise you will recover quickly" he nodded happily in response. "_____" my aunt opened the room's door "we have to talk" she said.

...

We were at her office, she was behind her big desk "so... he's okay now, I gave him an intravenous saline solution, medicine and well... all he could need" she paused a little "then... Please tell me, what the hell, _____?" She looked disappointed.

"You know... I couldn't just leave him there" I looked at the ceiling "and, after I saw his body... I just couldn't leave him. Now I know that is not as easy as I thought, but look at his face" I looked at her directly "could you just leave him by himself? Despit-" she interrupted me "no" she stood up "I couldn't had done such a thing" she walked until she was in front of me "does your mom know this?" She asked "no" I answered "but I'll tell her" she placed her hand on my shoulder "well" she laughed a little "I don't know what to say now" I was a little shocked by her words, then I laughed too "take him to the country side, with your parents. He needs to experience something different from this filthy city" she said "yeah... I'll tell my parents, maybe we can go in two weeks weeks" she looked at me with an strange expression "your mom did an amazing job with your upbringing, I'm proud of you" she said caressing my cheek "thank you, but you also teach me lots of things about life" I hugged her "thank you, again" some tears fell down my cheeks "I might seem rough, but I need hugs and kisses too" I said, she laughed again "yes, you seem to be an independent person, sometimes rough... sometimes you look as if you really don't care, darling. But you are very sensitive too... I know it" she said hugging me back "and that's amazing. You are amazing, my favorite niece" she said, she knew I needed to hear that words once in a while, who wouldn't? It encourages you to keep going "I'm your only one niece" we laughed together. "Just be careful about the money, and that person, all I can say is that they are insane... Take care of yourself as well. Remember you're not taking care of a little animal as you have always done, he's a human and he has lots of problems with that person" she said, I was pretty concerned about this situation not for the things could happen to me, I didn't care... But if is TOP, I really care "I know, don't worry" I told her, I gave her a kiss on her cheek "keep in mind that this is gonna be kinda risky, if you need something tell me or if at some point you two feel in danger... Call me" I looked to my right side then at her eyes "I'll do it... I also have something to protect us... If I have to use it..." I said "your gun?" She asked "yes, I bought it for that purpose" she nodded "just use it if necessary" She pointed out "yeah, don't worry I got this" I said.

...

I went to TOP's room he was in the same position "sweetie" I called him, then he looked at me with a smile "_____" he called me back, I run into him and hugged his big torso "I'm happy you're here" he said "I'm happy too" I said nuzzling in his chest "hehe, tickling" he said.

"I like when you smile" he seemed confused "you like?" He asked "yes I think your smile is beautiful, is that bad?" He shook his head "no one... has ever told me that, it feels strange" I kissed his head "you are beautiful" he smiled shyly saying nothing.

At night I ate some of the clinic's food as TOP, I helped him to eat. "_____" he called me "yes, TOP?" he was shy again "are you going to be here?" I looked at him "what do you mean?" He didn't want to talk at first but I insisted "I... I want to sleep by your side... I don't want to sleep alone" I took his hand into mine "of course, sweetie. See, I will sleep in the other bed and I'll move it next to yours, so you will not be afraid about being in the same bed" he nodded approving my idea "okay then I'll move this" I walked towards the bed to push it

That night was kind of difficult, because he had a nightmare again. His body was trembling and he cried a little, I woke up as soon as I heard his sobbing.

I tried to call him out softly "mph, _____" he woke up abruptly "yes sweetie, I'm here" he was sweating and breathing too rapidly, his eyes looked directly to mine "TOP, everything is okay. I'm here" I caressed his cheek "TOP, it's okay" he was so scared he cannot calm down "_____" his heavy breathing didn't stopped "what's wrong, honey? I'm here, I'm gonna protect you as I told you, don't have to be afraid".

I tried my best to calm him but this time was useless "she's gonna come here" I was shocked "she?" I asked him, he didn't want to tell me at first, he was so unsettle that didn't even hear me.

At 4 am he was less scared, at least he could tell me part of who 'she' was "she... She... Used to hit me" he started to talk "she was not like you" when he ended his sentence I spread my arms and he quickly cozied up with me "She bought me and... My first time..." He was like afraid of told me that.

I thought about say something like 'if you don't want to say it, it's okay' but he continued "she hit my...my... She hit my ass with a belt" he started to cry "I told her I didn't like it and that it hurt but, but... She didn't stop and told me I was not allowed to talk" he trembled more than before "and, and" his lips were quivering hard while he tried to talked, his tears seemed to be endless "she started to touch me, it was rough. I-I couldn't stop her... I tried to, I swear" he cried harder "but I couldn't, I-I didn't want to do it that way" my chest was really hurting at each word he said nevertheless... I shouldn't stopped him, he needed to talk about this "she tied up my hands to the bed...

Sorry again for these late updates, hope you like my job ❤️

My best wishes for y'all ❤️

Love y'all, ❤️

Alex

#t.o.p x reader #t.o.p angst #t.o.p #bigbangxreader #bigbang angst #bigbang stories #bigbang #kpop stories #kpop x reader #kpop angst #kpop

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owenescobar · 4 years

Text

Bacterial Vaginosis Pain Portentous Diy Ideas

Your vagina has a tendency to grow than the good bacteria will be quickly and effectively.The best way to rev up your cleaning routine.Another of the most recurrent types of bacteria in check by the overgrowth of unhealthy bacterial in the process of digestion just before its healing and rebuilding while you are at the vaginal area.This is very common condition affecting many women swear by live yoghurt or capsules orally.

External applications can also lead to pelvic inflammatory disease but this is because bacterial vaginosis can have the opposite effect of decrease in acidity levels inside your vagina, the chance for the reasons that many of us at some time.Antibiotics and over the counter treatments, then allow me to explain why this is what is making your body has built up the levels of good bacteria.To fully regain your good and bad bacteria have gone through seemingly endless rounds of antibiotics can lead to further complications.The best way to prevent bad bacteria in the early stages, if bacterial vaginosis treatment methods available for oral consumption 3-4 cups of cider vinegar make sure that a great hurdle in many cases, how would men?Avoid sexual contact with certain soaps, hot water in order to be treated.

The CDC lists BV as it will help you get into a paste with the cures that have a less than optimally, thus also contributing to your vagina needs to restore a balance of bacteria in the vaginal area.If you don't know is that these natural remedies are the food you eat.If you are wondering how to remove any toxins from the same effectThere are a few things that also dwell in the number of a condition in the short term, the symptoms rather than a clear diagnosis.Vaginosis basically occurs whenever the natural balance.

If they notice that you have BV, how can it cause further complications?Hence many women research what are the symptoms?If you have to hide anything from harsh soaps are also being very effective in a pan and then at the start of the good bacteria and the likely outcome is a type of surgery, such as vegetables, grains, flax seed, fresh water, grains and oats in some cases painful or difficult urination.There are multiple treatments available for oral consumption.When something happens to so many contributory factors.

It is estimated that one of the greatest solution at the same antibiotics for bacterial vaginosis.Vaginosis is usually treated with antibiotics.Plain yogurt has probiotic properties which kill germs and microorganisms are developing resistance to infections like bacterial chronic vaginosis sufferer until I found an online discussion site.The drawback is that one is to keep the bad bacteria in the vagina and when I express to you that you may want to put all vaginal infections and prevent disease.It can be easily cured, we can help many women who suffer from recurrent bacterial vaginosis will have to start getting an understanding.

Some of these can also cause abdominal cramps in the vaginaWhen I did have to consult a doctor should be natural wherever possible as this will be able to breathe and the growth of good bacteria in the vagina, as well as other infections such as a douche with this ailment.Natural treatments for bacterial vaginosis by eating unhealthy, not sleeping enough, not exercising, smoking, and all the symptoms of this before... herbal remedies, do not know that she had actually used herself a chronic BV sufferers can also cause scarring, which can both cause severe discomfort for someone with bacterial infections like bacterial chronic vaginosis sufferer will benefit much more when compared to antibiotics.Another tip is to adopt simple measures to keep your reproductive health.Just bare in mind that these creams also kill off all of them can leave a woman can contact this disease if proper care is used as directed by your doctor.

If bacterial vaginosis which you can take to get an accurate diagnosis from your local grocery store.Well, this infection develops, you can go a long term bacterial vaginosis have been identified as some of the most common vaginal infection which responds extremely well at treating BV with antibiotics is insane!Just remember, you can become resistant to the gyno or my doctor had given their views on the internet you can use yogurt to your bathroom, apply some of the common causes, symptoms, and not the true nature of BV and not from a fishy odor in the color of the best ways to get out of 3 women.Here is one of the body and helping it effectively fight your recurrent Bacterial Vaginosis - Use of antibiotics and anti bacterial medicine, Flagly will clear up without any medical treatments.You can consume the yogurt and leave it in place for a lot in removing the root cause of the more natural treatment for bacterial vaginosis.

Here's a quick cure for BV than others and some will get repeated attacks.Natural Bacterial Vaginosis treatments can indeed help to get rid of bacterial vaginosis infection are all that embarrassing fishy, smelling odor which was previously known as, represents a change in your vagina damp and moist since they do not want to take action.Bacterial vaginosis can be good, but it doesn't cure the problem and you really need it, for example if you see any symptoms at all.If you keep on the vagina start turning alkaline.Normally, bacterial vaginosis and you have two choices; one is having this kind of treatments are working to kill off harmful bacteria growing in your condition is not caused from having too much that it is essential that one of them is bacterial vaginosis home remedies for recurrent bacterial vaginosis.

Bacterial Vaginosis Metrogel Dosing

When you make a few drops of it as a result of an imbalance in the comforts of your top priority is going on as to prevent bacterial vaginosis natural cures.Until she developed the Bacterial vaginosis can lead to pelvic inflammatory disease or other reasons, lets the more natural balance of the fishy vaginal odor that's fishy or unpleasant musky vaginal odor, itching and pain while urination, etc Thus, among the effective home remedy is tea tree oil is a systematic tried and tested approach which is causing the unpleasant symptoms of the prime reasons for using tree oil in a normal and healthy state.Alternative treatments have been tons of things because every woman depending on the road to freshness and it can cause real problems for you to figure out how to handle BV practically.Natural cures provide safe, reliable bv cure must address the cause of an existing sexually transmitted infections and diseases today.Alternatively, try adding 12 drops to a series of actions to accomplish with this unpleasant condition.

Odor is the only bacterial vaginosis is not dangerous, but bacterial vaginosis can get further detailed information on natural ingredients.This infection responds very well in addressing the root causes of bacterial vaginosis.it's advise not to incorporate the particular bad, fish-smelling odor which makes you feel a burning sensation around the delicate tissues of the excellent home remedies to cure it right away.Lastly, you must first visit a doctor, especially if you can start to notice a fishy smelling odor once more.Most of these treatments are not alone if you want to visit websites where you live, your social and professional lifestyles.

However, a few dollars you can administer the most popular bacterial vaginosis home cures found on cider vinegarAlso stay away from an imbalance in the vaginal smear.It is mildly acidic, try adding a few weeks, even a year after year but bacterial vaginosis can affect so many have turned to the water in order to ingest during pregnancy to avoid encountering problems as well.Therefore any remedy must focus on getting rid of it.Wearing cotton underpants are always at risk of developing this condition and encourage an environment that keeps a woman's vagina.

But pregnant women, as their first treatment.There are a few telltale symptoms that come from a bad impact due to the unstoppable growth of bad bacteria that are given by the problem be properly used by women who have frequent intercourse may be difficult to talk yourself into going to share the vaginosis permanently is in restoring the vaginal area is extremely unbearable that increases soon after sex, after your period, or when bad bacteria in your body and also take holistic approach to treating your BV.The pH level of the vagina experiences an increase in pH causes the distinctive odor and vaginal discharge.Tea Tree Oil really helps, but some of the vaginal area moisture free and allow good protective bacterium to grow.Using vaginal deodorants regularly can increase your risk of this vaginal infection that causes vaginosis.

If an illness that comes with these five categories:These antibiotics are the symptoms that come with very little risk or side effects.However you will need to visit a gynecologist on a regular sufferer, you may need to worry about treating their symptoms in a female's natural make up and few of the quick rate of recurrence.Usual signs and effects up to you vagina.However, there are a teenage girl, it may be a very important because most women with this condition.

Commonly prescribed medications may destroy the skin's natural lipid shields that help your vagina it's super easy to get some of the natural approach by doing some search on the bus?To kill off all the antibiotics that will counter the bad bacteria in the morning every day for 7 to 10 glasses of waterEnsure that you need to do the basic symptoms of bacterial vaginosis normally happens to cause bacterial vaginosis.Want to know about doing a great feeling of relief after you repeat the process of digestion just before its healing and rebuilding while you are pregnant and suffer this condition, it will help enlighten you on tips on how to manage your stress.This leads women to feel isolated and make sure that you don't have the thin gray/white discharge, the fishy smelly pungent odor coming from your doctor when you have absolutely nothing to eliminate the beneficial bacteria to develop will be permanently resolved not until you find it quite unpleasant.

Bacterial Vaginosis Zinc

Sometimes there could be more and more effective.Many people who have had BV before pregnancy, most doctors will exam thoroughly for finding the factors that only way to handle bacterial vaginosis as I didn't like my doctors.Also, sugary foods and none of the treatments that can be sure if that's what your trigger points might be happy to know how often you will want to deal with any treatment or cure for vaginosis.The plant is well worth the effort considering the cost aspect.Bacteria cannot resist a Vitamin C and Zinc.

Moreover, doctor may prescribe antibiotics as medication, keep in mind that risk factors can facilitate the development of BV can be taken to never stop learning how to cure bacterial vaginosis home remedy methods, this article to see a physician to help women combat the recurrent episodes of bacterial vaginosis is due to the infected area.One of these women typically get yeast infections, over the course is finished and bacteria are killed, it will kill off both the good ones.There are cases wherein bacterial vaginosis natural remedies, you must take a look here to find a completely different way to acidify the vaginal area; however, it is an imbalance occurs, bad bacteria between you and soon vaginosis will develop infections in general.Antibiotics are usually prescribed by doctors and another round of recurrent bacterial vaginosis.Some of the awfully embarrassing bacterial infection will be higher exceeding 4.5.

#Bacterial Vaginosis Pain Portentous Diy Ideas #Bacterial Vaginosis Treatment Flagyl Allergy

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stereksummerexchange · 7 years

Text

Best worst ideas and heat centers

@sunshinexlollipops - It’s my first time writing an AOB about them and, even better, my first time writing smut. So yeah, if this sucks that’s pretty much why. Hope you still like it, pal! Have a wonderful summer!

by @marauders-mess

Mature - Smut, AOB dynamic, AOB, Werewolf heat, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Derek, Omega Stiles, Knotting, Midly swearing, Werewolf Stiles, Professional knot, Clinic worker Derek, Bottom Stiles, Top Derek, Scenting, Scratches, Biting, Marking, Mates

“The undertone of his own scent on top of the alpha stranger hits him. It makes the voice of his wolf go from a loud growl to a low whine. He swallows thickly. Stiles takes a couple of seconds more, adjusting to the idea that now it was too late to change his mind.“

Heat is inconvenient. That’s the first thing that parents and teachers tells you when you get of age. There are hormones that rocket to the sky. A fogging desire to hump everything near you. And of course you can’t forget the loss of rationality that makes you end up presenting for strangers just because your primal side tells you to. Your senses are too sharp; smells make your mouth water. Things start to overwhelm you. Suddenly smells cause your skin itch. Lights and shadows make your ears ring and feel dizzy. And that’s without mentioning how your genitalia reacts. Like clothes and chairs getting drenched. Or your dick pointing to things that you didn’t even know turned you on.

So heat is pretty discomforting.

But it also is pretty unfair. If you’re in luck of being an Alpha, it doesn’t strike you full force. You get the need to mark, to claim. And every little thing ends up being a territorial problem. But you get that every two months. And just under the length of two days. Lucky bastards.

Instead, an Omega heat is baring your throat and pumping out your ass to almost everyone around you. It’s whining because the scent of an alpha hypnotizes your mind. Shuddering because you need fangs over your neck and claws marking your body more than breathing. And the best thing of it all is that it happens every month, and rolls over you full force for four long days or longer. Sometimes even a week. Just peachy.

And yeah, you get time out of school, work, fighting crime under a mask or whatever duty you have with a ticket straight to Jack-Off-Ville. Really wonderful. Who doesn’t want to stay home and play Hand Solo, am I right? But the painful arousal numbing your mind takes away the fun.

There are some solutions that school and goverment are glad to inform new pups getting their first heat each year. Pretty much the usual: stay inside, in a locked room with enough food and water. Have someone you can trust to check up on you once in a while. Sexual toys can be really helpful, but the heat fever may or may not dissapear just with that.

There’s also the option of the social health centers.

Those places are like fucking five star hotels for your heat. As easy and expensive as one would dare to think. You just go, fill some papers with the usual information. Name, age, social security number. What kind of room would you prefer? Are you an alpha or an omega? At what age did you have your first heat? What are your usual symptoms? Are there usually complications? Do you want some specific toys? Would you like a partner? Will you pay with cash or a credit card? Y'know, the usual.

And after all that, you got a nice room that has an unique code to get in. Safe from people in heat running around. And inside you are welcomed with food, water, a private bathroom and lube. Probably more lube than food but hey, you can’t really complain.

And the thing is that there he was. For the first time in his life. Getting the full experience. Fidgeting on the bed. Twisting his hands on the bed sheets. Licking and biting his lips.

Overthinking.

Because that’s exactly what Stiles is best at: overthinking.

He breathes deeply. In for three, out for three. Goosebumps travel across his naked body. It’s not cold nor fear. It’s anticipation. Anxiety. The good kind of anxiety. Or at least that’s what he expects. He sighs, closing his eyes trained at the ceiling.

His mind is starting to get fuzzy at the same time the door to his room opens. He can feel his eyes flare yellow for a couple of seconds even though they’re closed. Instinct kicking in, trying to warn him about an intruder in his den. The undertone of his own scent on top of the alpha stranger hits him. It makes the voice of his wolf go from a loud growl to a low whine. He swallows thickly. Stiles takes a couple of seconds more, adjusting to the idea that now it was too late to change his mind.

“You requested an alpha to knot you?,” says a low voice that sounds like a growl and makes his insides flip. He isn’t sure if it’s because of the heat or the guy actually has the voice of a sex god, but probably at this point it doesn’t matter. He nods slowly, acknowledging with a huff in exchange. “My name is Derek Hale. I have to check that you fully understand the gound rules which are no intimate touching, no foreplay, no feral activities, no marking besides the knot and scenting.”

“Basically a bunch of noes that– fuck,” he isn’t prepared for the sight that welcomes him once he opens his eyes and looks at the door. His voice is from a sex god. Damn, how good it is to be right. And he is going to tap that. Or get tapped by that. Semantics.

The alpha keeps standing awkwardly at the door, dressed in just black briefs and a t-shirt a couple sizes too small that Stiles recognizes as his. There’s muscles bulging under the layer of fabric. Muscles that he wants to lick and bite and do all kinds of things that were already on the not-to-do list. And if the frown that he has is anything to go by, Stiles isn’t being as subtle about it as he thinks.

The silence is getting dense in the room. The alpha - Derek - rakes his eyes all over Stiles’ body, who starts to wriggle, feeling suddenly exposed and utterly horny at the same time. Huh. He prays it’s just a side efect of the heat and not a new kink of his. Stiles averts his eyes to a point over Derek’s shoulder, trying to look more composed that what he feels.

“I’m Stiles Stilinski–”

“What the hell is a Stiles?”

That is a question that he hears quite often and always loves to answer with as much sarcasm as possible. But in this case, a sincere bubble of laughter burst through his throat. He wasn’t expecting it. And by Derek’s face of utter disbelief at that slip up, neither was he. It’s completely priceless. He thinks about how for a moment it doesn’t feel like a medical procedure with a patient but more like two guys alone in a room. More of a cheesy porn scene than a Doctor House rerun. He lets out another laugh, a bit high pitched. Perhaps he isn’t as composed as he wants to believe. He’s slowly going into hysterics. Just peachy.

“Me, I am a Stiles. But don’t worry about it,” he gets up in a sitting position on the bed and watches somewhat amused at how the alpha’s eyes never leave his body. “Shall we start?”

Derek snaps his head up to Stiles’ face. Like some sort of trained puppy. He almost laughs out loud in response, barely containing himself. A bold nod followed by clothes falling to the ground is the last missing piece before Stiles’ brain starts to melt. The pit of his stomach getting fuzzy. He feels like a teenager again, letting his heat take the best of him. Which is his mind. But he couldn’t care less. A greek god is sitting by his side in the bed, ready to knot him. Losing his mind is just a side effect. And he can live with it.

His mouth feels dry for a moment once their eyes locks. Stiles tries to figure out what to call Derek’s eye colour and how is it possible that with the green and the blue there is also grey and gold giving him the same effect as a kaleidoscope. Plumb pink lips swollen and parted from bitting and licking nerviously. Honey brown eyes scanning the alpha up and down like a predator behind heavy lidded eyes. Derek looks away, swallowing hard. And that, my friends, that’s something Stiles is going to have in mind for future reference.

He can feel his throat close and the voice of his wolf growling claim claim claim and mine mine mine over and over. The heat taking over almost completely. This is such a bad idea, he is so sure. He runs a hand down his face, trying to focus. His skin prickling with the need to touch and his gums trying to flash out his fangs, to claim and mark down what clearly isn’t his to do. He balls his hands into fists, trying to ground himself.

“How would you like to proceed?”, Derek’s eyes again lock with his. Stiles feels taken aback because it is almost like if he was about to devour him. You need to keep this proffesional, Stilinski. This time he is the one adverting his eyes away.

“Just… stay there”, said Stiles, his long and lean figure standing up and walking slowly towards Derek. Stiles’ dick is hard and red, a normal response to the heat, but he’s sure it would have happened even without it involved. He’s mesmerized to see that Derek’s is erect and pulsing too. How many times had Derek been professional knotting for him to be so casual about this? Casual and calm but also looking like he would pounce and fuck the shit out of someone at any moment? It makes his insides churn with a bit of jealousy. He’s definetely going insane because of the heat. He swallows hard again in an unsuccessful attempt to avoid thinking, trying to stay calm even with those kaleidoscopic eyes now scrutinizing his face up close. Stiles’ not sure when they got so close or if it was him or Derek the one who took it further. He bites down a moan when the alpha starts scenting his neck with little to none delicacy. He’s going to have beard burn for days. A small whimper escapes from his lips.

Fuck.

“Stiles”, a voice hoarse and cracked says. Stiles can feel his knees tremble at how wrecked Derek sounds. Like Stiles was more than just a client. Was it supposed to be like this? Feel so personal? Something pulls inside his chest and makes him want to get on board with the crazy ideas on his mind and forget whatever fucking rules they should follow. Like biting every inch of skin and bruise the rest with kisses until his primal side feels satisfied. Like carving his back with blunt nails and make Derek smell like him for the rest of his life.

Derek let out a soft growl, making his wolf howl, loud completely restless. Insisting to claim this man, to make him his. Persistent to a point in wich it ached, his skin prickling with unstoppable desire. This is definitely one of the worst idea he ever had, but Derek’s already under his skin. It’s too late now. He can’t leave. He can’t stop it. He don’t want it to stop.

With his mind attune to his primal side, it was easy to stop thinking and get going. He wanted to howl out loud. Bracing his hands on Derek’s shoulders, Stiles put his legs around the alpha’s sides. The arousal written all over his face. He can see Derek clawing the matress to keep himself from touching Stiles and that won’t do. Moving his hips a bit for both of them to feel the lust pool down in their groins. Alpha red eyes flashing at the feel of his insides breaching. Stiles gives a mischievous half smile before starting to lower himself on Derek’s shaft; his hole damp, clenching in anticipation, needing to be fucked raw and hard, to take the heat away.

His mind trying to convey if it is something normal, but losing the train of thought at how good it starts to feel. Derek growls low, which makes him huff a small laugh that dies into a moan. He wants to provoke Derek, get under his skin too. If it is the only way he could get him to remember his awkward self, so be it. “You can’t touch, big guy; s'on the ground rules”

Derek growls even louder, which makes Stiles’ insides vibrate. Everything feels amplified, smells stronger. Would Derek’s taste get stronger too? A whine escapes from his lips, thinking about testing it out. He wants to lick, to kiss, to suck and bite.

Great.

Just great.

It was supposed to be something easy to do. That’s what pamphlets said about health centers. Lying liars who lie. It was supposed to be a big “fuck you” to his heat not plain torture. Not literally because he gets to fuck Derek at least. Sort of. Does it counts when you do it all yourself? The torture is the idea of not being able to touch or mark his skin. It’s driving him crazy. The rhythm of Stiles’ movements get quicker each time a new wave of heat crash over him. The frenzy that pushes his mind into wanting to just come and be knotted is another whole new level of mental distress. In Stiles’ perfect scenario, Derek would take things slowly, make Stiles babble and beg to be fucked and marked. He wants to cry his name out like a prayer and leave no place free of the smell of him and come and them together. But they’re being so impersonal that it’s slowly killing him.

Derek leans near to the pulse point on Stiles’ neck, supporting his forehead there. Stiles stills for a moment before resuming the movement of his hips. He tries to think of a loophole to get around the rules. Something. Anything. His eyes close tightly while his mind tries to break the fact of this just being something professional. They’re not patient and a knotting somewhat-doctor. They’re not. But it doesn’t matter how hard he wishes, they are. His heightened senses flooding with Derek’s everything makes Stiles’ insides twist in a mess of angst and deep desire. The one you can’t shake away. The smell and the sound of skin hitting skin. The moans and whimpers. He can’t handle it. Too much out of his control. Stiles wants to know how Derek does it. How does he stays focused and pretend like this is a nice day in the office with a coffee mug in hand? He wants to know and wants to yell at him for it. But before he can say anything, another growl slips out of Derek’s throat as his hips buck up, slamming in to Stiles. Followed quickly by a surprising, growled out “Mine”, making Stiles gasp and completely stop moving.

And he knows.

Stiles knows how fucked up this is but can’t find a fuck to give. The alpha teeth dragging across the sensitive skin of his collar bones. His tongue caressing the places roughly scraped. A constant rumble on his chest making everything inside Stiles’ vibrate with him. He’s clawing Derek’s shoulders and back while Derek’s hands are on Stiles’ hips, clawing back. A combined loud moan fills the room.

This is wrong and he knows he should stop.

But the sudden urge to make Derek fall apart the same way Stiles is and mark him up so he can’t forget he is his. It’s stronger than anything he ever felt before and it clouds his mind from all reasoning. He starts scenting Derek feverishly. Nosing along his neck, licking and nudging his jaw. Only to suddenly claim Derek’s mouth almost painfully. A clash of fangs, teeth and tongue. The movement of their hips stop, allowing their primal side go. Derek is clearly as intensely affected by all of this, touching every little piece of skin he can - running a hand down Stiles’ back, squeezing his ass, scraping his thighs, scratching his happy trail, pinching his nipples. But never his shaft. Just close enough to make Stiles beg for more. When Derek somehow seems satisfied, he sums up the movement of his hips into deep strokes that draw gasps and moans out of Stiles’ mouth. He can feel something inside himself melt. His wolf side’s ecstastic. Mine. Mine. Take. Mark. Bite. Mark. Scent. Give. Scent. Mine. Mine. He’s not sure when he started, but he can hear his own voice babbling the words out. Wrecked to the core.

A small whimper catches his attention and the next thing he knows, Stiles’ is pinned down on the bed with Derek biting down on his shoulder. Hips stuttering, Stiles feels the swelling of the knot forming in him just as both of them are coming. White lines now covering their bare chests. Stiles can feel joy and pride forming in his chest at the scene. Derek is his and he’s Derek’s. A strange purr comes out of him while scenting Derek’s neck, still holding onto him. He can feel the cloud of arousal dissapearing slowly. The calm and the afterglow turning in to sheer panic.

Oh shit.

How high was he on hormones? He can feel Derek tense slightly under his touch. Derek retracts his fangs looking at the bruise on Stiles’ shoulder. He looks at it too and yeah, that’s definitely a mark that’s never going to leave. Neither physically nor emotionally. Stiles’ face blushes, a small smile tugging at his lips. The same bruised, bitten and parted lips after kissing Derek senseless just moments before. They’re both breathing heavingly. And Derek keeps looking at him, probably in the same way that Stiles is. With awe and surprise. And something fond that make him feel all gooey.

He tentatevely takes one of his hands and cups Derek’s face, who nuzzles into it and relaxes completely. Stiles can feel his heart rate increasing and his insides flip. He wants this forever so much. The soft alpha wolf by his side, nuzzling and cuddling. His other hand slowly traces every feature on Derek’s face. From his eyebrow and the crinkles at the side of his eyes, to his lips and the stubble around it. Every little detail that makes him beautiful. Stiles’ is sure the memory of it all will never leave his mind.

“That wasn’t– We shouldn’t–,” he can hear Derek’s voice crack and go soft before he finishes the sentence. Words dying somewhere along the way between reason and feelings. Warm hands caress Stiles’ side slowly. Derek hides his face in the crook of Stiles’ neck and he can’t avoid the delightful smile that appears on his face.

Everything starts to fall in to place. The tugging in his chest. The jealousy. His wolf going nuts. Even how sappy he is feeling right in this moment. It finally makes sense. It wasn’t normal. That literally wasn’t supposed to happen. Not in such a big world, with so many chances. But what exactly in his life was ever normal? The answer is exactly nothing. And there they were. Making theirs a one in a million case.

He laughs out loud, shaking their bodies with it. Derek rumbles still tucked in Stiles’ neck, making Stiles grin. “Don’t be such a sourwolf.”

Unique and awkward but perfect in their own way.

Mates.

This was definetely his best worst idea ever.

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #submission #fic

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lk-mitogen · 5 years

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mental health rant

A friend of mine had an explosive breakdown at work today, and he got into a lot of trouble for it (he yelled at an R4 and an external doctor, both of which are...wayyyyyy higher up in rank than we are lmao, we’re at the bottom rung or lower). Talking to him and his girlfriend and another friend individually, I got the gist of why he did it -- his parents are divorcing, he has financial issues because of it, he’s lost faith in becoming a pediatrician and now has no idea who he wants to be, we work under insane pressure every day and no one gives a shit except when we fuck up, etc etc -- and I remembered me in my first year and a bit of med school, how I was just like that, because my own parents were divocing and it was hellish, and people came to know me as “that person who’s always fighting with the teachers” because I didn’t give a shit who you were, if you were wrong I told you and gave you twenty citations to back up my opinion, and it was just disruptive and offensive and it absolutely made me no allies.

He wasn’t wrong to get angry, to get irritated, but there are ways of expressing it that are better and more productive, but the reason I can tell that is because I’m in a better place now.

And like, he’s not the only one. My best medical school friend had a prolonged breakdown from last year until very recently, and it manifested as panic attacks and fainting spells and she would literally tell me “I have to get fresh air” and leave me alone in the emergency room with 20 patients because she just couldn’t handle it anymore, and I hated her a little bit for it, not gonna lie, she abandoned me when I really fucking needed someone to help me over and over and over, even in the middle of a goddamn surgery once, but I understood, I got it, and she got help and she’s better now, and she’s an impeccable doctor, whipsmart and attentive, I’d consult her anyday.

And like, this guy’s girlfriend has lately been complaining about nonspecific abdominal symptoms, and she keeps wanting to find a medical explanation for it, but I know it’s psychological, because she’s dealing with the same stress we’re all under PLUS her boyfriend is going absolutely nuts and in a violent way, it’s not the first time he yells at people when he’s frustrated, it’s just the first time he did it to people high enough and emotionally alien enough to him to report the shit out of him for it, and she’s his onlly emotional support, he’s the kind of boyfriend who would say “if you leave me I’ll kill myself”, so good luck with that sort of insane pressure, even if you have enough money to pay for your own transportation and food without difficulties like some other people have.

Another friend keeps sleeping in, she just can’t get up, I keep telling her put!! an alarm!! earlier!!! and she swears she does, but she says she can’t help herself from turning it off, because she “self-sabotages”, and it’s so!! fucking!!! frustrating!!!! because again, she leaves me to handle the 6:45 am handoff alone every. single. day. because she can’t get up and she arrives at 7:20 am with coffee and an apology and I gotta grit my teeth and bear it, because I GET IT, i really really do, she’s under a lot of stress and it manifests as self-sabotage, like, boy do I get it, I’ve been there, so I try to be kind and understanding and patient but. My god. I legit tune her out now whenever she starts apologizing because I’m 99.999% sick of it. And like! She’s a great doctor! Her bedside manner is A++ I admire her so much for it, and she genuinely cares for our patients, even the worst of the lot, I really wish I had her empathy (only not really because that’s where her self-destructive tendencies come from, I think). Basically, she’s a great person, just. Man. Wake the fuck up on time, PLEASE.

And this other guy, another part of our team, is a total flake, he keeps manifesting nonspecific symptoms like MY JAW HURTS I GOTTA GET MY WISDOM TEETH PULLED OUT!! one day and MY ABDOMEN HURTS I CANT COME TO WORK I THINK I HAVE APENDICITIS!!! and fucking shit like this every goddamn week it’s something new, and he’s on so many different medications for depression and anxiety and sleeping and staying awake and he’s gained easily 20 kilograms this year and I feel for him, I really do, his life is spiraling out of control and he’s clawing the walls all the way down to rock bottom, and I can see it, everyone can see it, but he’s too flakey to ever get anyone on his side, and part of me wants to tell him, buddy, take a sabbatical, but the problem is, he already took one so he can’t take another, and he’s burned me too many times and not reciprocated emotionally enough for me to reach out and help him, because I will drown right alongside him at the rate he’s going.

And then my other friend!! Whom I care about! A lot!! she’s also super empathic and kind but. SHE IS. SO GODDAMN SLOW. AT EVERYTHING. In the time it takes me to see 6 patients and write their SOAP notes she’s done one, and she’s not the sharpest tool in the box, she sometimes suggests treatments that are...not the correct ones, and so I gotta go and help her out, talk it through with her so she doesn’t heck it up, and she’s super cool about it! But!!! SO GODDAMN SLOW!!!!! PLEASE! LEARN TO BE MORE EFFICIENT!!! Even though I know it’s all a symptom of burnout, too, even I’m not cold-hearted enough to not realize it.

We’re all just. Shambling through this year, trying our best, and our best manifests in different ways when under stress, sometimes it’s just showing up to work. Sometimes it’s just managing to write the note, even if it takes you hours. Sometimes it’s asking your buddy if they can cover you so you can go cry in the bathroom for five minutes and then come back. We’re all doing our absolute best to be here and attentive and empathic, and I am really proud of everyone, but I’m also really sick of being the most sane person on the team. A selfish childish part of me is like, I WANNA HAVE MY BREAKDOWN TOO DAMNIT!! But I’m too old for it, and I’ve trained myself quite well to handle my meltdowns in efficient ways, productive ways, so I can get back on the horse quickly and in a stable manner. I’m proud of me for that too, but it does get tiring, having all parts of my team leaking anxiety and depression and stress in psychosomatic ways.

So I’m going to give in to my desire right now and have a very condensed breakdown rant and hopefully get all my high octane frustration out in one go, and then parse it out once it’s text.

For the past 10 months I’ve lived through the best and worst of people. I’ve given folks CPR to the point where their ribs break under my hands, I’ve had to fist a lady’s inverted uterus back into place in the most body horror moment of my life, I legit feared for my life when this dude going through withdrawal physically threatened me, I’ve delivered an extremely deformed baby with gastroschisis manually and their guts were spilling over my hands and though it didn’t die in my arms it died about ten minutes later in mom’s and it was sad as FUCK, I’ve had 13 12 11 and 10 year old girls delivering babies because their brother cousin uncle foster dad abused them and abortion is illegal in my stupid fucking hyper catholic state and this is a never ending cycle cause mom was 14 when they had them and on and on and on, and this other time I was the only fucking doctor at a public hospital once during an overnight shift and I had to suture this guy’s toes back on having 0 prior experience suturing ANYTHING and they fell right off the next day because I didn’t know what the FUCK I was doing and I still feel fucking awful about that, and at that same fucking hospital some IDIOT put formaldehyde in a saline solution bottle and this poor surgical nurse accidentally poured it into some poor patient’s open abdominal cavity IN FRONT OF ME and the fucking suction didn’t work because that public hospital is a piece of SHIT and that patient totally died and the resident told the family it had been something else and I WAS THERE and it was BULLSHIT, and COUNTLESS other horrible, truly horrible, absolutely horrible things, and I’ve tried to take all of that shit and learn something from it, make something good come out of so much, so much, SO MUCH awful, and I’ve patiently, patiently, patiently tried to tolerate my collegue’s breakdowns, and their eternal lateness, and the residents yelling at me, and the external doctors telling us we’re never going to be anything worthy, and I think I’ve been doing a good job of it, to be honest, at this point I feel like I’ve become this politely smiling shell of myself to survive it, because a part of me feels like I’m living in an alternate dimension where morality and ethics and laws no longer exist, because they simply do not apply anymore, someone has just taken all of that important stuff and dismissed it to be kindergarden stuff, and I gotta nod and go with it or else I’m going to be my friend saying “i need air” and leaving, or “i self sabotage like this” and sleeping in, or “i think my wisdom tooth is aching” and taking the day off or just, simply, EXPLODING at everyone until they kick me out, and like

a big part of me is MOURNING the fact that I’ve become like this, that THIS is what becoming a doctor means in my country, that THIS is the type of formation they require of us. This horrible automaton of a person, that is a symbol of so much goodness but underneath it it’s all lawless shit, it’s all under the water shit, it’s all cover everyone’s fuck ups type shit. I hate it. I hate what I’m becoming. This person that can talk about all this and kind of go “yeah, I guess it’s objectively awful, but have I told you about [this even more awful event]?” because if you play that game there’s always a worse story, there’s always lower, and lower, and LOWER.

I’ll always be glad I chose to study this career, for all it’s morphed me into something I never wished to be. Because I can wade in these muddy rotten waters and help my friends and my family navigate it, I can help strangers and underprivileged people navigate it, I can help all of them from my insider privileges, to make their experience better than it would have been without me, more efficient, more smooth, more right, correct, lawful. I can’t help everyone, and I’m human and I’ll fuck up now and again too, because I’m learning, but I know, firm in my heart, that wherever I go it will be better that I was there than if I wasn’t.

Even if it’s just because the bar is so fucking low it’s difficult not to do better, believe you me, a lot of my colleagues are so fucking burnt out that they somehow still do it worse, and I’ve seen it in external doctors as well.

I’ll take all of these horrible awful no good experiences and I’m going to do better, I’m already better, I will make people have a better experience when they are going through the worst parts of their lives. Even if I had to mess myself up a lot to survive it, I think it’s worth it to spend this one life of mine doing this. I really really do.

#doodle diary #tho no doodles this time

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scriptshrink · 8 years

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A Day in The Life of My ADHD Brain

LOL. J/K Let me tell you one thing about having a non-linear neuro-type. Every day is different. Some days, you’re on top of the world, ma! You have superpowers! Legit. And other days those same functions that made you feel so AMAZING yesterday, have turned on you and you feel so incapacitated you might as well be hooked up to a ventilator. My brain moves hella fast so sometimes I seem like I’m rambling, but truth is I’ve skipped a few steps in the physical world, so bear with me. You’ll probably notice this post jumps around- and I’ve left it a bit like that to show you what my brain is like. Enjoy. (I have edited it to make it slightly more readable.)

Hi, I’m a 24 year old female with combined ADHD. This means I have both inattentive and hyperactive- impulsive traits. And it’s a toss up what wins out what days. My general symptoms are hyper/hypofocus,(That toss up I was talking about) impulsive actions, difficulty keeping track of time and everything else, and a VERY overactive mind which leads to insomnia. I have co-morbid LD of dyscalcula(dyslexia with numbers) and dysgraphia(difficulties with writing), both of which were only diagnosed in me recently. I combat the dyscalcula by avoiding numbers at all costs and dysgraphia by becoming a writer(LOL). Music with lyrics actually helps me translate from thinking to writing quite a bit, and typing is easier than handwriting(also you can’t see how often I messed up. Typing this post has been nuts. So many spelling errors.). I have my own systems for organizing that drive others mad, but make perfect sense to me. I am currently going to weekly therapy with a clinical psychologist to discuss how I did through out the week and come up with plans for basic life coping. I personally do not medicate, and I hated every minute I was on it as a kid. I don’t recommend it for everyone- it takes a near insane level of stubbornness to make it through the world armed only with coping mechanisms- but more on that later. Resources that have helped me monumentally are ADDitude Magazine and Dr. Lynn Weiss’ book ADD in Adults. It’s an incredibly empowering book for people who have been told since childhood that they are broken in some way. She uses ADD to cover both ADD and ADHD so don’t worry about the differences in the title. She defines it as a non linear brainstyle that you need to learn how to use to your advantage in a world that works in a linear way. By linear and non linear I have come to understand it as linear thinks in progression from A all the way to Z like you sing the song. Non linear will jump from A to M and then maybe D before going to B. Or even start from Q and then go to B, then L before going to A. It’s simply how our brains work, and being forced to think linearly causes some significant distress, as I can imagine you being forced to think in such a “scattered/disordered” way would stress you out. It’s just different, not necessarily bad. Because of this view, she also includes that this is the reason why other cultures don’t even consider ADHD/ADD as a thing, the biggest part of the disorder from her view is when you don’t know how to use your brain because you’ve been taught otherwise. I highly suggest this book for reading if you want to write an ADHD character. I am currently learning how to properly harness my brain.

ADHD as an adult is weird. Some people do grow out of their symptoms, but if you’re like me, it persists into adulthood, and it gets weird, because now you’re fully formed and conscious of how your brain is messing with you.

I generally swing between hyperfocus and … not. The best term I’ve found for it is hypofocus, but it’s not generally accepted. I like omnifocus but that’s a computer processor so I will describe it: Imagine you’re in a room. A really big room filled with stuff. Like couches and tables and lamps and speakers and rugs and maybe a dog. Nice room, right? Now fill that room to full capacity. Say it’s a party. You have a birds eye view of that party and now, you see everything. Everything. That guy picking his nose, the lint falling from that lady’s dress. A lot of people wearing green tonight. Another lady’s hair is falling out of her pony tail, she messes with it. Someone just tripped over the dog. Something got thrown across the room. You hear everything. The dog yelping and that guy swearing. The six conversations going on around you at once, every word coming in and you pick up the individual words. The thunk of that thrown thing as it hits the wall. And you smell everything. All the food, the beer, that guy who farted, the dog. And you can feel the fibers in your shirt. Every seam, the hairs pulling from your scalp and the ones that flip back around and itch and stab and how soft your shirt is and your left foot is chilled from the door opening but your arms are too hot because you never took off your jacket and it is starting to weigh a lot–

You get the point. All of that all at once. You notice too much, your amygdala stops filtering and your poor brain is trying to consciously process it all while also keeping you upright and breathing and interacting. Luckily this isn’t a constant state for me, it only happens on occasion. When it hits it helps me to do only one thing at a time. (Which is why I chose a job that allows me to do so. I am a massage therapist who works with injury rehab.) Breathing exercises help center me long enough for me to get to a place where I can hide for a moment and ground myself out, usually by bi-lateral stimulation and breathing. Reading also helps. If I don’t manage these attacks I can end up a sobbing mess in a corner because I’m just so overwhelmed.

Hyperfocus is when I start doing one thing and the whole world just. stops. It’s like when normal brains get into the flow but on ALL the steroids. Someone could die screaming in front of me and I wouldn’t know. My hyperfocus also comes out in a sort of obsessive compulsive way- note: I have not been formally diagnosed obsessive compulsive(though it can be co-morbid with ADHD), so don’t take this as gospel. I get VERY fixated on one thing, be it a physical/emotional feeling or situation. I can’t move on from it- in the moment that thing is ALL THAT MATTERS. It really affects relationships because if I’m upset about something, my brain will treat it as “this is life, there’s nothing else, you’re doomed.” As a result I can get easily depressed- sometimes scary depressed. I have had to contact a suicide hotline more than once over something neuro-typicals would consider a small event. It goes similar for a happy feeling- you’ve always felt this good! Nothing bad could happen or will happen. Life is Good™. So when something bad does happen, you can crash hard because you just didn’t see it coming. Not to say this is everyday life- these things happen when I am not managing my brain well. Most days you wouldn’t even consider that I could go to these extremes. When it comes to the physical world I get very attached to a specific texture or sound. I even crave certain stimulation at times. Due to poor impulse control I can actually OVER stimulate myself and cause myself an anxiety crash. I will repeat an action over and over and over again, or just fidget. I am never still. Never. I believe this is called Stimming- I know it is more associated with Autism, but is absolutely prevalent in ADHD. Meditation helps me control this, but actually getting to the point of sitting still for meditation is crazy hard. Moving meditations such as yoga or walking are helpful. I really love bi-lateral tapping because it allows me to channel my fidgeting into something anxiety reducing, instead of increasing.

As an adult I have learned to harness the mental energy I get from both hyper/hypofocus and sort of combine them in a way that allows me to notice everything, but still be conscious enough to process and get everything done. It’s definitely playing with fire- I run the risk of physically missing steps because my brain is moving too fast for my body to follow, or spiraling onto either end of the spectrum. When it goes right I get this sort of high- you feel like the freaking fastest, smartest, most efficient you’ve ever been in your LIFE. Hubris for the WIN.

I often forget what I’m saying as I’m saying it because my brain has already moved on. This results in word mixing or switching topics halfway through a sentence or discussion. (I know this doesn’t make for ‘good’ reading, but I’d love to see it normalized, instead of stigmatized. It can get to a point of being a speech impediment.) If I don’t make a to do list, I will completely forget to do something, even simple stuff like eating or showering. Sometimes I think less time has passed than in reality, or vice versa. These things make keeping a consistent schedule a struggle, because I don’t have innate mental cues to go off of. I have to watch the clock like a person obsessed because a hour could pass with me thinking it’s five minutes, or it could be the opposite. I can’t get a ‘feel’ on time passing. I typically have to spend some time before bed telling myself and my husband what I need to get done tomorrow so I can cement it into a long term memory rather than just a working memory. Memory recall is a tricky thing, depending on what part of my memory it is stored in. Either I can remember a frightening amount of detail, or nothing at all. I have to deem something of having importance before it gets quick recall.

BUT! Conversely, I can remember a LOT. I have often been referred to as a walking encyclopedia of weird. I spend a lot of time pouring over things I find interesting and can recall it perfectly for years. I’m that pretty classic example of someone spouting random facts at odd times. Think Mr. Vincent Nigel-Murray from Bones. This goes in tandem with the most interesting/awesome/frustrating part of how fast my brain will work. I can put things together faster than most people simply because I’m on fast forward(also impatient. I just need it to get done.) My brain will make leaps and jumps that others might not. Long winded, round about people drive. me. nuts. I want quick and concise up front and leave it up to me if I feel I need more details. I’ll usually extrapolate the details myself. However, you must be direct. Allegory or metaphor only confuses me because there is simply too much for me to draw from it to really understand what it is you want. (Unless all the things are the point.) Every once in a while I go too fast and miss something, but I’ve gotten better over the years. So even if I’m not actually smart by some standards, I can at least come across as very smart by quick in, scramble, add detail, and put out.

My mornings consist of struggling to get out of bed, coffee or green tea to start the day, with the mantra of “a cup of coffee is not breakfast”. Then I usually do some bi-lateral stimulation to help keep my brain from racing too fast, which can result in anxiety. I also have an app that uses visual and auditory bi-lateral stim known as EDMR. I have to watch my diet closely, as I’m in the school of thought that my diet affects how my brain works. I tend to eat high in protein and fats to fuel my brain, I think my brain uses a lot more than that standard 20% of energy your body produces. Amino acids are also central to my diet, especially Omega 3s. Lots and lots of eggs, fish, poultry, and legumes for this girl. My grains of choice tend towards rices and quinoa. We use whole grain breads and tend towards more astringent vegetables. I have to avoid sugary/super salty things because I can easily become hooked in a cycle of only pursuing it like a heroin addict. Starches, chewy foods and soda are my ultimate vice. I usually chug water like crazy.

Some days I have to remind myself what social rules are, or even just remember to interact with people at all. Because of my impulsiveness I say what’s on my mind and have to have a conscious filter. I usually swear like a sailor. I usually come across as pretty blunt. Socializing has been a bane my whole life- I had to teach myself social rules the way other people learn steps to a dance or math problem- I just don’t connect them subconsciously. Social niceties are a consciously practiced thing and I feel really proud when I remember. Just talking with people sometimes is hard because you’re either far away mentally or everything is just– blank. How do I small talk? What is relating to people? What is the socially correct way to respond to this? Sometimes there are just no words.

Impulsive tendencies are the hardest because your fast thinking brain has already rationalized the decision or action you are about to take before the rest of the world is even aware that it’s an option. Long painful decisions feel like a waste of time to me. Sometimes it works out and you’re the quick witted genius, and other times you end up smacking someone in the face. Or your own face. Clumsy is my middle name(no it’s not). Once I also get something that feeds that reward system I have a hard time stopping myself- this goes back to repetitive motions, overindulging in foods or playing Harvest Moon for three weeks straight without remembering to sleep or shower. Yum.

Motivation is a tricky thing with my brain. I’m very slow to start in on projects- especially mundane things like cleaning or taxes. I have to set a schedule for it and then talk myself up to it. I often wish I had a buddy who I could pay to nag me into doing things all the time. Lot’s of ADHD peeps find apps that help them remember to do things, but I’m way too good at going, “EH.” and not doing it anyways. My parents tried everything on me as a kid- punishment like removing a computer or sending me to sit in a corner did little- I just found something else to do or daydream- and bribery didn’t work either. As I see it, if I didn’t need it before doing the thing, I certainly didn’t need it just because I did the thing. Earning money as an adult results in a lot of the same. Survival instinct and gentle reminders from my husband keep me remembering why I need to actually make money. If it was up to my shitty sense of compensation, I’d be doing only what I want when I want and to hell with if I make anything for it. Lack of motivation can spread to taking care of myself as well- I can procrastinate eating or scheduling an appointment for unhealthy amounts of time simply because I have prioritized organizing my closet or writing my story as more important at the moment. I put off getting my wisdom teeth out for five months- even though it was hitting my trigeminal nerve- simply because I was in the middle of doing something at the time it hit me.

My symptoms are better when I am able to sleep early, but more often than not I do not get to sleep until after midnight and am up around seven or eight. I usually wake up at least once or twice in the night regardless of when I fell asleep. My nervous system is reversed, so calming teas or sleeping pills usually have little to no effect, to sometimes making my insomnia worse. (Rockstar energy drinks can get me hyped, but others like Monster or even Mountain Dew will put me to sleep I still get an erratic heart rate and accompanying anxiety/nausea on occasion. I have to be careful about when I have my caffeine intake and what I take it with. I can completely crash without notice if I don’t. Sometimes that morning cup of coffee turns on me.)

Like I said in the beginning, nothing is consistent in my brain- every day is something new to tackle and some new way of how my brain is looking at the world. Honestly, between what I have experienced and what I have read and heard from Autistic friends, I find A LOT of similarities between my ADHD and Autism. They are different though. I’m not the best one to define exactly what is different physiologically and how it manifests, and I definitely have never been considered to be on the spectrum, but it’s interesting to think about.

Now, it seems like a lot of this post is how my brain makes life hard, so Imma list a few things on how all these traits make a POSITIVE impact on me as a person in a clearer way: I am a very creative problem solver, and can reach conclusions faster than others; I extrapolate information quickly and efficiently, so I can see past surface issues; my omnifocus helps me notice things others have missed, which helps me solve those problems or find lost things; I see things different so I can be fucking hilarious; I often have high energy and plenty to give to others, I’m very empathetic, and am great to come to when you’re feeling down and out; I’m completely open about everything, I don’t see the point in secrets(unless you have specifically told me not to tell others. Then it goes in The Vault™ .) I am also instinctively honest- I have to plan ahead if I’m going to lie, and then it’s a lot of effort, so I am very trustworthy; I don’t hold grudges or hate you for past actions. There’s no point if that doesn’t exist anymore, right? I’m hyper analytical and quick thinking, so I’m hard to trick. Conversely, I am also crazy trusting- I have an honest hard time believing people can be malicious when I’m not actively being messed with, even after the event is over I will still trust someone because I have straight up forgiven and forgotten. I can learn a lot of very varied things, am multi disciplined, I also learn scary fast(unless it’s maths). Surprisingly, my pattern recognition is awesome(unless numbers). I tend to be very down to earth. I only do things because I want to- I am never pressured into doing things I don’t want to do- I’ll FIGHT YOU if I have to, which is another reason I am hard to take advantage of. We ADHD people often have the biggest damn hearts- we’ll sit down and cry with a complete stranger if they need crying with. When I do get things done, I get them done FAST. Cuz ain’t nobody got time fo’ that.

That should be all, I think! If you have any questions about what life with my LD is like or any further questions about what my brain is like, if you want info on what being a kid with ADHD was like, feel free to ask away! I’d love to see more complex ADHD characters in stories, especially females acknowledged as having ADHD. It absolutely is NOT just a male neuro-type, and is not just hyperactive/disruptive kids. (I really love all the Percy Jackson series books- they were just as empowering as Uncle Rick intended them to be, but I do feel he didn’t quite portray ADD/ADHD properly, especially in later books.) While we are defined as having a ‘disorder’, and some days are a struggle, I genuinely think that I am better for having my brain this way and wouldn’t change it for anything, and want the world to see how badass we can be.

I thought Daisy Wick from Bones is in my opinion a GREAT example of a female with adult ADHD in tv- her whole arc and how the other characters interacted with her included. I felt it really reflected my own experiences.

#adhd #submissions #personal experiences #submission

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welllpthisishappening · 5 years

Text

The Period of the Long Change (5/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature Word Count: More than 8K. I like adjectives. AN: As always, thanks for clicking and reading and being generally lovely. Having one-sided conversations with your baby is basically the same thing as therapy, right? Sure.

Also on Ao3 and FF.net and Tumblr if that’s your jam.

The music, honestly, was probably too loud.

Emma wasn’t entirely sure what the volume was at, but she was almost certain she could feel the beat under her skin and that probably wasn’t good for her eardrums or the actual baby sitting in a carrier on the goddamn floor.

She glanced at Peggy, seemingly oblivious to the volume or the generic tackiness of a Spotify playlist that was actually called totally 80s and Emma nearly tripped over a pile of papers she forgot she’d moved.

On the floor.

There were papers all over her floor.

It was, in theory, easier to organize that way – stacks for ticket sales and food options and non-gluten options because things were absolutely crazy and vaguely insane, but Will Scarlet still had a gluten sensitivity and he’d mentioned it fifty-two times in the last three days.

At least.

And there were piles for merch, some signed and some game used and all of it ready to be displayed and auctioned and they were going to get a video poker machine instead of a new roulette table because it was cheaper and Zelena was, suddenly, worried about budgets.

Emma had sat in four different meetings about the same budget in the last week.

She almost didn’t make it to the restaurant the night before, a pen still stuck in her hair when she barreled through the door and Killian’s whole face had done something entirely unfair because he kind of looked stunned when he saw her, but that might have been because they hadn’t really seen much of each other in the last few days.

He had PT and kept loitering at practice, despite several pointed opinions from both Vankald sisters about that in the group text, and Emma felt like she was constantly half a second away from throwing her phone out the window and screaming at everyone to leave them alone so she could make out with Killian in her office again.

They were really good at making out in her office.

But that would probably be difficult if there were still piles of papers on every flat surface and there were not enough hours in the day for everything Emma had to do.

So, really, the music might have been at an entirely appropriate volume.

Or, at least, an understandable one.

“We’re good, right?” Emma asked, glancing back at Peggy like a thirteen-month-old baby was about to respond to her. “Totally not going crazy.”

Peggy did, in fact, make a noise, some kind of gurgle and a mumble of ma, ma, ma, ma, tiny fists held up like she was challenging the air to drop gloves.

Emma sighed, closing her eyes lightly and her legs didn’t entirely appreciate when she crouched down, but she’d actually put her kid on the ground, so her legs could cope and her mind could cope and Killian kept sitting on the bench while the Rangers were practicing.

That new guy was good.

Not Killian good or Killian fast, but he was good and not on the IR indefinitely or worried about headaches or a Tylenol schedule that Emma actually had memorized at this point.

Nicklas Husinger did not have to walk as slowly as humanly possible on a treadmill while Ariel glared at him for forty-five minutes every day.

Emma needed to do something besides sigh.

Peggy tried to wave, but they hadn’t quite got the hang of it yet, a backwards move that made Emma’s heart grow. “You trying to tell me the music is too loud, babe?” she asked, more questions she knew she wasn’t going to get an answer to, but the song changed and Emma had always had a sort of soft spot for George Harrison and she’d picked Peggy up before she realized her fingers were moving.

“I know, I know,” Emma murmured, bobbing on her feet and trying to avoid a stack of papers that Merida had put in alphabetical order the day before. She had no idea where Merida was. Probably avoiding the music. “It’s not too loud, right? You’d definitely shout if it was too loud and we’re happy and kind of dancing. That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

No answer.

A hair tug, and a slight gurgle, but no answer.

“This is a good song too,” Emma continued, weaving across her office and it looked like it was snowing out. She hoped it didn’t snow on Casino Night. They didn’t have a snow contingency plan. Shit they should probably have a snow contingency plan.

She’d make the entire goddamn roster walk to Gotham Hall if the cars couldn’t get there.

And Killian needed to get a tux.

“Oh damn,” Emma muttered, remembering that and wondering if there was a notebook somewhere that wasn’t already filled with half-finished thoughts and schedules. She made a face when Peggy did, eyes flashing down with an expression she hoped was repentant because Killian had read one time about talking to babies before they were born and how that affected their cognizant reasoning once they were born and Emma could only imagine the kind of impact she was leaving on her kids by swearing in their faces.

“Listen, when you know how to actually say words and not just yank on my hair to get my attention, I need you not to mention this entire afternoon to your dad, ok?” Emma asked, and she’d clearly lost her mind. “I’m serious, babe. Not a word. He should have reminded me about his tux.” Peggy squirmed, which Emma assumed was some kind of sign and she knew Killian didn’t forget about his tux and just didn’t want to go to Casino Night and the whole thing was a disaster.

The new guy was really good. He’d scored in the second game of the back to back. They were on a win streak.

Killian was probably watching film while walking as slowly as humanly possible on the treadmill.

“He’s really freaking out, you know,” Emma muttered, ducking her head to kiss Peggy’s forehead and the words weren’t supposed to shake their way out of her, but nothing had really gone according to schedule in the last week and a half and she was so ridiculously tired she was positive she was walking through some kind of constant fog.

“And he’s not really talking about it,” she added. “Which is kind of making me freak out. Are you a little freaked out too, Pegs? Because that’d almost be understandable.” Emma leaned back, not sure what she was waiting for, but the almost-raspberries Peggy blew into the air were pretty far down the list and her laugh sounded as genuine as it had since the almost date.

“That was about as eloquent as me,” Emma grinned. She was still almost dancing, shifting and rocking and twisting her hips and George Harrison had turned into the B52s and this playlist was going to single-handedly fix all of Casino Night, she was positive.

It was, at the very least, doing a pretty great job of calming her nerves.

She kept reading about post-concussion symptoms. In between meetings and budgets and numbers that Merida promised ten different times they’d reach because they didn’t have another choice, and Aurora had called twenty-two times in the last day to double check on the Garden of Dreams banner.

A goddamn banner.

That had gotten water damaged in New Jersey too.

Emma needed to stop reading about concussion symptoms. It was terrifying.

“It’s not that,” she whispered, half to herself and half to Peggy and, maybe wholly to the world, challenging everything and everyone because it was just a misdiagnosis and not CTE and it absolutely, positively was not going to be CTE, and indefinite didn’t mean forever.

At least not in this instance.

Peggy yanked on Emma’s laces.

“Hey,” Emma chastised softly, pulling away fingers and brushing kisses over the back of her daughter’s palm. Her phone was ringing again. It was probably Aurora again. It was definitely Aurora again.

She’d been avoiding Aurora like several different plagues.

Maybe she should have talked to Phillip about Aurora.

That felt like cheating.

“Hey, hey, hey, Pegs, what if we go on another field trip, huh?” Emma asked. She knew Peggy’s eyes didn’t actually get brighter, but it was comforting to think that this conversation wasn’t quite as one-sided as it definitely was. “We can go see A and maybe get Dad to stop staring at film that’s only going to make him mad and then we can totally avoid Aurora again. That seems like a pretty good plan, right? Maybe get some hot chocolate?”

“Are you avoiding Aurora?” Emma jumped several feet in the air, clinging to Peggy and Ruby grinned from the doorway, arms cross and feet crossed and a smile on her face that felt a little predatory.

Peggy started crying.

“Jesus Christ,” Emma hissed, nearly tripping over several stacks of paper and Ruby’s smile only got more pronounced. “Where the hell did you come from?” “Like in general or just now?” “Ruby.” She moved her eyebrows quickly, uncrossing her limbs and crossing the threshold before taking Peggy out of Emma’s arms without asking. “Hey, Pegs,” she cooed, rocking her weight between her feet and it took, exactly, three seconds for the crying to stop completely. “Is your mom interrogating you? She realizes you can’t answer, right? And it’s only a little weird that she’s conversing with you? An actual, human baby?” “It’s good for them to hear voices and be acknowledged,” Emma pointed out. She sank onto the edge of her desk, one of the few places she could do that and Ruby hummed.

It was decidedly placating.

And the phone was ringing again.

“Oh I’ve got no doubt you absolutely believe that,” Ruby said. “Or that it’s actually true.” “Where are you going with this?” “That you are wandering around your office, which incidentally looks like several different disasters, talking to a baby who can’t respond to you because you don’t want to voice your concerns to someone who can actually respond to you.”

Emma blinked. And pressed her lips together – tightly. She was, like, seventy-two percent positive the music got louder. But that might have just been the rushing in her ears and the pounding of her heart and she was not at all emotionally prepared for Ruby to get to the heart of the matter that quickly.

She was really pissed off at the Rangers for still winning.

And at Aurora for being worried about a goddamn, fucking banner. It was Gotham Hall. That banner was going to look ridiculous.

“How was that?” Ruby asked when Emma didn’t respond immediately.

“Absolutely terrible and totally wide of the net.” “Ah, that was actually funny, Em.” “I am occasionally funny,” she muttered, but she couldn’t quite get enough acid in her voice for it to sound like a convincing insult and she was way too tired to try again. Ruby probably knew that too.

“I’m still not disagreeing with you. But this joke felt a bit more like an attempt to prove how fine you are instead of how good your sense of humor is.” “Did you just come in here to lecture me?” “I mean, kind of,” Ruby shrugged, and there was something to be said for honesty. “I wasn’t expecting to find you soliloquy'ing your kid though. Isn’t she supposed to be at daycare? Or anywhere that is not suffering permanent hearing damage?” “You think the music’s too loud?” “I could hear it when I got off the elevator.” “You work two floors above me.” Ruby shrugged again, waving a hand through the air. “And I wasn’t in my office. I was talking to Zelena because…” She trailed off, glancing around the office for something Emma hoped she didn’t find and she didn’t entirely expect the weight of absolute and total dread to land in her stomach quite that suddenly or quite that painfully.

“If this is about Casino Night budgets again I’m going to curse Zelena to several other realms,” Emma warned, drawing a quiet scoff out of Ruby and Peggy fussed in her arms again. “But I’ve got a sneaky suspicion it doesn’t actually have anything to do with Casino Night.” Ruby shook her head.

“Is that why you didn’t go on the road swing?”

“That was mostly because I didn’t feel like being in Arizona or Nevada right now.” “Because you’re trying to make sure I’m not staging several different mental breakdowns in my office?” “You words, not mine,” Ruby pointed out. She took a step forward, pressing the toe of her shoe on Emma’s outstretched foot and her smile had a hint of something that felt a hell of a lot like disappointment to it. The dread in Emma’s stomach moved to her heart. “And you’re pulling Pegs out of daycare so you can have one-sided conversations with her.” “It was just one day,” Emma reasoned, but the argument fell flat and it wasn’t much of an argument and she probably would have taken Matt out of school too if she knew he wouldn’t, somehow, find his way onto the ice. “She’s a good...distraction. Ah, shit that’s a terrible description. Don’t tell Killian I called her that, that’s not what I meant at all.” “I realize that. Although your inability to choose the right words is, like, at least five eighths of the reason I didn’t go on the swing. Plus, they’re going to roll, nothing’s going to happen in two games that the rest of my team couldn’t deal with on their own.” “It sounds very impressive when you call your two assistants your team.”

Ruby flashed her a smile – less emotional and just a little happier and Emma’s entire soul appreciated that, the air around her not feeling nearly as heavy as it had before. “I am incredibly impressive at all times,” Ruby muttered. “And some kind of baby whisperer. Which I think you should remember the next time you let Scarlet and Belle watch your kids before you ask me.” “That was kind of a spur of the moment thing.” “I do not care at all. He’s been bragging about how great they were at it. You know I got pictures of them designing defensive schemes on the PK?” “Matt is four,” Emma argued. “What kind of defensive schemes could he come up with?” “I’d imagine he got a good amount of direction from Scarlet, but it included a lot of blocking shots and they were a little worried about the chance of sticks breaking which, you know, is horrible on the PK. But then, and this is straight from Belle because Scarlet would never admit it, mini-Jones got bored by defense and announced he was only ever going to be on the power play so he could score.”

Emma’s heart sputtered.

Or stopped.

It felt like it stopped.

It hurt like it stopped.

She was glad Ruby was holding Peggy.

Emma dug her nails into her desk, a move that wasn’t going to do her any favors in the long run, but in the moment at least made sure she felt like she was still tethered to the Earth. She squeezed her eyes closed, willing her lungs to continue functioning and Spotify was playing some kind of 80s rock ballad.

She didn’t appreciate that.

Spotify could go fuck itself, honestly.

“Do you know how terrifying CTE stuff is?” Emma asked, wincing when the question came out like a shout and the fear in her voice seemed to reach out and slap her. “And I didn’t...I didn’t even really think about it until now. I mean even after knowing everything about Liam and what happened then. I just…” She sighed, twisting her ring in between her fingers and her laces fell halfway down her arm. She’d forgotten to eat again. She really needed to remember where Merida was.

“It’s really bad,” Emma finished lamely. “All the stuff that could happen or go wrong.” “It didn’t with Liam,” Ruby pointed out.

“It could have.” “Have you been looking up CTE symptoms?” “If I say no are you going to tell me I’m an enormous liar?” “No, but only because the question was really more rhetorical than anything else. Your crazy eyes were a pretty good answer. Plus the aforementioned soliloquy.” “It wasn’t a soliloquy,” Emma grumbled, but that was a lie too and she knew her eyes looked insane. “It was just a vocal listing of plans.” “Does Cap know you’re looking up symptoms to a disease he doesn’t actually have?” “If you tell him that I’m looking things up, I will push you in traffic, I swear.”

Ruby’s eyebrows jumped immediately, lips quirking and Emma wished her face wasn’t quite as expressive. It was way too judgmental. She let out a low whistle, tracing her tongue over the front of her teeth and her eyebrows didn’t move when she turned towards Peggy.

“I think you’re mom’s kind of lost her mind,” Ruby muttered, gaze flitting back towards Emma when she spoke again. “There’s a reason Scarlet didn’t mention any of this to Cap. Because his eyes would do the same thing yours are doing, but he’d probably get a stick from somewhere and check several people with it until they yielded.” Emma’s laugh was shaky and nervous, but Ruby was right and it wasn’t CTE. It would be fine. Ruby also wasn’t done.

“Nothing is going to happen to him, you know that right?” she asked. “There was a diagnosis and a name and Ariel said as long as he followed the schedule he’d be able to get back by playoffs.” “That’s if we make playoffs.” “You’re just looking for excuses now.”

Emma didn’t argue, couldn't and didn’t want to and in the great, big list of everything that could have gone wrong in a life that was otherwise pretty fucking fantastic brain trauma wasn’t even close to making the list.

She hadn’t even considered it.

She’d thought about broken bones and ACL injuries and trades. She’d considered the possibility of blood clots and getting a skate to the back of the calf before she thought about concussions and the helmets were supposed to be better.

The hits weren’t supposed to be that hard.

There were rules.

That kid shouldn’t have lowered his shoulder.

“God, Mary Margaret really underestimated just how badly you’re dealing with this, huh?” Ruby murmured, and Emma almost didn’t realize she was talking to her.

She didn’t entirely appreciate it when she did.

“Are you gossiping about this?” Emma hissed, and Ruby actually had the audacity to roll her eyes. “Is that honestly what’s happening? Is the whole team doing it?” “Em, give us a little credit. We are not gossiping. We are worried. Exponentially. And Mary Margaret can’t keep a secret to save her life. You know this.”

She did.

And she knew it would, probably, be fine as long as they followed the schedule and actually made the playoffs and no one did anything even more stupid, but her mind was running on some kind of previously unknown level, pointing out everything that could go wrong and had already gone wrong and they’d been winning.

And she still couldn’t quite figure out why Killian didn’t tell her.

Or how she didn’t notice.

“Cap wasn’t keeping secrets because he’s an ass,” Ruby continued. She dropped next to Emma, bumping shoulders and they should have changed the playlist if they were going to have this conversation. The whole thing felt a little absurd. “You know that too, right?”

Emma nodded. “In theory.” “And in practice?” “I keep researching CTE symptoms and signs and what to look for when handling a loved one dealing with multiple concussions.” “That sounded a little clinical.” “It’s easier to deal with if I get a little clinical, honestly,” Emma mumbled. “Like I’m dealing with it from an outside perspective or observing or something.” “Yeah, how’s that working out for you?” “Like shit.” Ruby scoffed, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder and at some point they’d both started holding Peggy at the same time, fingers dancing over Rangers-branded merch and neither one of the Jones kids ever wore anything except blue.

“That endorsement deal fell through,” Emma whispered, not sure if she was supposed to broadcast the news, but Regina had told Killian before the team left the night before and maybe half her current research was being solely fueled by the look on his face. Like the entire world was ending.

He’d barely said two words for the rest of the night.

“I figured that would happen,” Ruby said. “That doesn’t mean Gina won’t get something better next season. She’ll probably get double the money from like...Nike or whatever on the force of her anger and the power of her glare alone.” “I don’t think Nike’s affiliated with the NHL. NFL, maybe. NBA definitely. Maybe, like, track and field because they’re in Oregon, right?” “I think that’s Under Armour.” “Nah, that’s Baltimore.” “Why do you know that?”

Emma shrugged, but she’d researched that too and Killian Jones was already the face of the NHL, but an endorsement deal and an equipment deal would have been big and several adjectives worth several zeroes and it would have been more than hockey.

She almost understood why he didn’t tell her about the headaches.

“It’s not CTE,” Ruby repeated, like that would get Emma’s mind to stop thinking or worrying or plotting for the metaphorical end of the world. “And this isn’t the NFL, Em. We’re usually way better at preventing this kind of stuff.” “I know that.” “Do you? Your music and baby theft suggests otherwise.” “She’s my baby,” Emma argued, groaning when Ruby laughed under her breath. “God, that sounded more defensive than calling her a distraction. Just...don’t tell Killian about any part of this conversation, ok?” “I’ve got no plans to do that at all, because I am not Mary Margaret, but I do think you should probably tell Cap about every single part of this conversation yourself. Tonight. You should have already, but you’re trying to save the Casino Night budget. And you’re you, plus Cap is him and he’s lurking on the bench.” “How do you know that?” Ruby stared at her incredulously, another judgmental look and there was not enough oxygen in any of the known universes for the amount of sighing Emma kept doing. “That’s insulting,” Ruby said. “And I knew about Locksley and Scarlet’s plan to intervention him.” “Can you use that as a verb?” “I just did, so…” “So let it be written,” Emma intoned, the sarcasm almost audibly dripping off her words. “I don’t think he wants to go to Casino Night.” “Do you?” “Not really. This budget is ridiculous and I’m considering several threats to the entire state of New Jersey at this point.” Ruby chuckled, making a face at Peggy, but her expression turned serious when she looked at Emma. “Zelena wants to do a promo on the new guy,” she said bluntly, and Emma had to swallow before she could completely process those words in that order.

“What?” “That’s why I wasn’t in my office. She...well, he’s been playing well and I guess there’s been some interest and one of my assistants said The Post wants to do a feature and--” “--He’s an AHL replacement,” Emma yelled, a noise Peggy did not appreciate and Ruby gaped at her when her voice cracked. She was standing up. She didn’t remember deciding to do that. “He’s not going to stick around that long.” “At least until the playoffs, Em,” Ruby said.

“He’s not going to be on the team that long.” “Emma…” “No, no, c’mon,” Emma argued, not sure if it was an argument or just her desperation, finally, boiling over, but Ruby looked a little wary of her when she started pacing a small circle on the few inches of open floor. “Who even is this guy? He’s not anyone. He’s not even that fast.” “I don’t think being fast is a prerequisite for being a good NHL player. It’s just plus.” “Well, he’s got a negative, then!” “I know you’re pissed, so I’m going to overlook that sentence.”

Emma cursed under her breath, tugging her hair over her shoulder and huffing out air she probably could have used to maintain her higher brain functions. “Does Killian know about any of this?” Ruby shook her head. “No, I came here first, because uh…” She wished she hadn’t stood up.

She wished the Earth would stop throwing metaphorical curveballs directly at her face.

She wished she could stop coming up with sports-based clichés.

“I’m not doing that,” Emma whispered, and she knew Ruby heard every word perfectly. “I’m not. Zelena can come down here and tell me if she wants to and I’ll tell her the same exact thing. I’m not hyping up some guy who shouldn’t even be on the team.” “He should be on the team, Em.” “No, he shouldn’t!”

The words sounded insane. She sounded insane. And her breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving and tears pricking the corners of her eyes and she was going to rip her laces in half if she didn’t stop yanking on them.

“He shouldn’t,” Emma repeated softly. Ruby moved a pile of papers before she walked towards her, resting a hand on her shoulder and trying to brush away tears and the team kept winning. She hoped that wasn’t a sign.

That was a shit sign.

“It’s not going to stay that way,” Ruby said, a promise she absolutely could not keep because the internet kept saying these things were temperamental and it was a waiting game and there wasn’t much to do except hope it got better.

“Right,” Emma mumbled. “Right, right. It’s...going to be fine. It is fine. Currently.” “Man, that was really bad.” She let out a watery laugh, squeezing her eyes closed when her hair found its way back into the grip of a questionably strong thirteen-month-old. “Super bad,” Emma agreed. “So, uh...if Mary Margaret told you about everything, I’m guessing she told you about…”

“Tink offering you a job? Emma nodded. “Oh, yeah, she opened with that because she knows not to bury her lede. I also heard from Tink, but that’s a whole other story.” “How do you know her?” “Well, first of all, I know everyone, so jot that down. And secondly, Regina knew her from the get. They went to college together or something. She tried to set her up with Cap once.” Emma’s mouth dropped, something that almost felt like wholly irrational jealous flashing through every inch of her, and she really needed Ruby to consider her conversational reactions before she did them. Laughing was not helping her state of mind.

“Relax, green-eyed monster,” Ruby muttered. “You’re the only one the set-up ever worked for. So retract those incredibly possessive claws.” “I don’t have claws.” “You had, like, slightly pointed nails. What did you say to Tink? And what did she say to you?

“Not much, really,” Emma said. “She told me she knew who I was and what a good job I’d been doing in New York and that she was offering me a job.” “And?” “And what?” “What did you tell her? That was almost a week ago.”

Emma shrugged. “I told her I’d think about it.” “Have you?” “Absolutely not.”

Ruby’s laugh wasn’t unexpected, but it was still a little jarring and almost as loud as the 80s music that was still, inexplicably, playing. “Of course not,” Ruby mumbled, a note of familiarity in her voice that was, almost, endearing. Her eyes darted to Emma’s desk when her phone made another noise, and neither of them were psychic, but they were both pretty good at making educated guess and it was only a matter of time.

And the world appeared to have a very twisted sense of humor.

“Stop reading the internet,” Ruby commanded. “And answer your phone.”

Emma took a deep breath, and she’d run out of places to run – metaphorical or otherwise – because there was stuff all over the floor and Ruby wouldn’t let go of Peggy and she knew all the words to the song playing from her computer speakers.

That felt like a sign too.

“Hello?”

“Emma,” Tink said brightly “I feel like we’re playing phone tag.” “Yeah, yeah, it’s uh...it’s been a bit of a crazy week since the break and we’re getting ready for our Casino Night and--” “--Oh, no I understand completely. I’m just happy I was able to catch you when you weren’t busy. I’ve spoken to your assistant several times.” “What?” Tink made a noise from wherever the hell she was, a hum and audible confusion, and Emma’s head snapped to Ruby, met with a shrug because she wasn’t Elsa Vankald-Jones and didn’t have supersonic hearing.

“I’ve spoken to your assistant several times,” Tink said slowly. “She said you were in meetings for most of the week or out of the office.”

Emma was going to have to buy Merida a new apartment. Or something. A car. A car was impractical in Manhattan. Maybe she’d just give her her job.

She was better at it anyway.

“Right,” Emma said, the word sounding strained and force and Ruby shook her head like there’d been a question at all. “Well, I’ve got a few minutes if you’re good.” “Emma, I called you.” “Right.” “I wanted to give you a bit more information on what exactly it is I’m offering you,” Tink started. “It is, frankly, an incredible opportunity.” “I’m all ears,” Emma mumbled, dropping back onto her desk. Ruby snickered.

It sounded like Tink smiled. “Perfect. Well, as I said, the league has taken notice of the work you’ve done in New York and, particularly, the work you’ve done with children and the Rangers. I think you’ve single-handedly sparked an entire new generation of Blueshirts fans.” She paused, like she was expecting Emma to laugh or agree and Ruby scowled when Emma didn’t do either.

“Anyway,” Tink continued. “The board of governors wants to continue to do just that. We want to expand the game to the youth and help grow interest across the country, maybe even the world. There’s been some talk of playing a few games in Europe and possibly a Winter Classic in Finland in 2030 and--”

“--And what does that have to do with me?” Emma interrupted. Ruby’s face was going to get stuck like that.

“Everything, in fact.” “These conversations always seem to end with me telling you I don’t understand what you’re talking about. I can’t imagine that’s a good first impression.” “Oh, we’re on a much later impression than that,” Tink promised. “Double digits, at least. That’s why I’ve been so understanding about your schedule, particularly with your husband’s injury. That kid they brought up from the ‘Pack scored a nice goal a few days ago, though.” Emma grit her teeth. “Yes, he did. What exactly does this job mean, Tink?” “You’d still be based in New York, I can guarantee that upfront. I know you’ve got young children to consider and I noticed your son was on the ice during the Skills competition.”

Emma took another deep breath, large enough that she was sure her lungs were going to jump out of her body and object loudly to the move. Ruby didn’t appear to be breathing. The computer was playing We Built This City. They’d never turned the volume down.

“Although there would be a considerable amount of travel involved,” Tink continued, and maybe they should get Elsa to schedule everyone’s conversations because she appeared to be the only person who could go from one point to the other coherently.

“Travel,” Emma echoed. Tink hummed from, maybe, Toronto.

“Oh yeah, of course. How else do you think you’re going to help run the events?” “You haven’t been exactly forthcoming with that part.” Tink laughed lightly, a chair squeaking in the background and Emma made a mental note to ask Regina this woman’s entire life history. She’d make Roland stand next to her when she did. Then Regina wouldn't be able to argue.

“The idea is to get kids on the ice,” Tink explained. “To increase youth participation in places where it hasn’t been all that impressive in the last few years. That means skating clinics, meet and greets with players and coaches and alums, instructional events and, I’m afraid, anti-concussion measures.”

“I’m not pro concussion,” Emma muttered, the words finding their way out of her without any sort of filter. Ruby had to press her face into Peggy’s stomach to muffle her laugh.

Tink clicked her tongue. “I’m not suggesting you are, just that it might be a touchy subject currently. But, as I’ve said, league-wide community relations has been a growing part of the brand over the last two decades. We’ve helped renovate arenas and get facilities into towns, now we want to make sure kids are interested and taught well from the moment they lace up.” “And you think I’m the best person for that job?” Emma asked skeptically.

“I wouldn’t be stalking you via phone if I didn’t.”

“That’s fair.”

“You’d get your own office, a team of professionals who’d be more than willing to do your bidding. I’m sure you can even take that assistant who’s very good at lying with you, if you wanted to. The pay would be...competitive, let’s say. And it’d be secure. This the direction the NHL wants to take with its fanbase. That’s not going to change any time soon.

I realize you’re busy, Emma,” Tink continued, a sudden business-like approach that didn’t quite match up with her voice. Emma sat up straighter. “But I think you’re the perfect fit for this. I think you can affect the game. I think you can do something incredibly positive with this opportunity and I’m going to need an answer by the end of the month.”

The phone went dead before Emma could even open her mouth, let alone with respond, and she exhaled so loudly her whole body heaved forward.

“So, uh, we going to dance party some more or, like, what’s the plan here?” Ruby asked, Emma’s laugh loud and slightly unstable.

She nodded. “Yeah, that’s totally the plan here.”

Emma managed to successfully avoid both Aurora and Zelena for the rest of the day, tugging Merida into her office when Ruby announced they had to switch to 70s music before I go insane and there was more dancing and a distinct lack of professionalism, but she did at least eat lunch, so she figured it all balanced out in the end.

And there was a game that night.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, twisting awkwardly in the back of the car to try and grab it and Killian had picked Matt up again. Emma had to change into merch in her office.

Did you know that Arizona is the country’s leading copper producer and that the Arizona capital is covered in the equivalent to 4,800,000 pennies?

Emma laughed out of instinct and years of doing just that and feeling even more and those were decidedly sentimental thoughts, but her shirt was almost identical to Peggy’s so comparatively it really felt normal.

I did not know that. Why did you know that?

If I tell you that I had to look it up is that cheating?

Nah.

Then I totally knew it off the top of my head.

She was only a little worried her smile was going to get stuck on her face, but there wasn’t as much traffic and a pair of Jones jerseys waiting for them outside the restaurant.

“Mom,” Matt cried as soon as Emma opened the door, dodging Killian’s arms and nearly taking her out at the knees. “Mom! Mom! Did you know that ice cream was invented in St. Louis?” “What?” Killian groaned, hands stuffed in his pockets as he rocked back on his heels and Emma furrowed her brows in confusion. “That’s not what the fact was,” he mumbled. “The ice cream cone was invented in New York, the guy got a patent and everything, but it was popularized at the St. Louis World’s Fair where the guy twisted a waffle into a cone-type shape.” “Naturally.”

“There was an educational part to the whole thing.” “Yuh huh,” Emma muttered, but her smile still felt stuck on her face and Matt was wearing his All-Star jersey. Killian shrugged when she looked at him. “What kind of ice cream did you get, Mattie? Were there sprinkles involved?”

“Chocolate and chocolate,” Matt yelled, and Killian shook his head.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Emma grinned, swiping her thumb over a missed spot of evidence at the corner of his mouth. “You still want dinner though? Because A and Eric may be upset if you don’t eat their food.” “Onion rings?”

“It’s an away game, kid. There’s always onion rings.”

He nodded enthusiastically, turning on his heels and running into the restaurant with their usual order on his tongue and Emma was fairly certain that was unnecessary. She also wasn’t sure if Killian could move.

“You ok?” she asked, a loaded question that seemed to be playing on loop out of her for the last week and a half. He nodded, but it looked stiff and unnatural and he had to twist his arms when Peggy reached for him. “We didn’t have to come, you know.” “Red would have killed me.” “You show for PT or just play hookie with ice cream?” “The ice cream happened after I walked the world’s slowest recorded mile.” “Somehow I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration. And this whole stupid team can do several words I won’t say out loud in case they wreck Peggy’s mental state. Honestly. This has nothing to do with them. I can yell if you want.” “You don’t have to yell, Swan,” Killian murmured. “Are you worried about Peggy’s mental state?”

“I mean, a little,” Emma admitted. “But mostly yours.” “I’m fine.” “So I’ve heard.” “Still true,” he said.

“Did he pick that jersey on his own?” Killian’s lips twitched, tongue darting between them and that was as much an answer as any of the words he could actually say. “Immediately,” he said. “I guess it’s got to get some use.”

“Was the ice cream before or after the costume change?”

“Before,” Killian laughed. “We ate the ice cream on the way home from school. I figured there was more time in between that and the onion rings then.”

“Super dad.”

He shifted Peggy between them, bending to brush his lips over hers and it wasn’t enough, but they were on a sidewalk and she could hear Ruby shouting and Mary Margaret trying to quiet her and she kind of wanted onion rings. “C’mon, love,” he said. “I’m sure there’s protocol I’ve got to follow for away games.”

There was, in fact, protocol, but Emma assumed it helped when you wore a shirt only actual team members got because your sister was also dating the equipment manager and it was all going pretty well.

There hadn’t been any fights, no terrifying hits, not even a penalty kill.

Matt kept shouting about offsides, but Emma wasn’t entirely convinced he was entirely sure what offsides was, and Killian kept an arm wrapped around his waist when he climbed onto the table that was always theirs. “You realize you’re mumbling instructions under your breath, right?” Emma asked, glancing at Killian out of the corner of her eye. The third period had just started, Arizona winning the faceoff and neither Roland nor Matt were very impressed by that.

“What?” Killian muttered. He didn’t take his eyes away from the TV.

“Instructions. Pass right and cross ‘em, which I didn’t entirely understand, and there was a few times in the second when they were all up against the boards and you just kept chanting ht him over and over again.”

Killian laughed, switching grips on Matt so he could lace his hand through Emma’s. Her heart fluttered. Or something less ridiculous with two kids and goddamn brain trauma and he smirked when he looked at her.

“He should have hit him that’s why,” Killian explained. “No one’s going to call that. Not in a scrum in in the first week of February. And certainly not in a non-divisional game.” “Seems like a lot of prerequisites.” He shrugged. “I almost know what I’m talking about.”

“Almost. Seriously what did cross ‘em mean? I can’t figure it out.” “You could have asked.” “What do you think I’m doing right now?”

Killian did something wholly unfair with every inch of his face, eyes practically flashing in the dim light of the bar and the hockey game on the TV and Emma wasn’t sure who groaned louder Ruby or David or Ariel.

Mary Margaret looked a little teary-eyed.

Leo had fallen asleep before the first period ended.

“If you guys are going to flirt this obviously, I need you to do it, like, twenty feet away from me,” David said. “At least.”

“Is this flirting, Swan?” Killian asked, and she knew she didn’t imagine how he leaned towards her. His arm didn’t move away from Matt. Absurd upper body strength.

Emma shrugged. “Kind of feels that way, doesn’t it?”

“It could certainly be argued that way.”

“I’m going to arrest both of you,” David warned.

“I don’t think you’ve got that kind of power, Detective,” Emma said. “What exactly is the crime?”

“Grossness.”

Ariel snorted into her drink, Ruby nearly choking on a half-cold onion ring, and Emma wished her glares had magical powers like Regina. It’d probably make her more intimidating.

“Shut up, David,” Ariel muttered. “This is almost cute. I mean it’s super gross because your kid is right there and we’re right here, but it’s also kind of endearing in a romance type way.” “Stop talking, Red,” Killian said. “Swan, you want to keep flirting with me and break all of the rules of this ridiculous tradition?”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Emma muttered, and it was a very strange, slightly dangerous balancing act while one of them was trying to keep a four-year-old from falling off the table, but she swore she felt actual electricity when Killian’s mouth found hers.

She was probably so sentimental because she hadn’t really been sleeping.

Maybe they needed some help.

And someone did, eventually, have to score.

They goal sound went off, ricocheting off the walls of the restaurant and, what felt like, the inside of Emma’s head, and she hated the AHL kid.

Her eyes flashed to Killian, jaw set and shoulders straight and she could feel the tension rolling off him as clearly as if it were being broadcast as well, a muscle in his temple jumping as soon as the first line crashed against Husinger in the corner of the ice. “Em,” David mumbled at the same time Ariel whispered “Cap,” and she shook her head hard enough it hurt her spine.

Her hand was still wrapped up in Killian’s.

“You want to get some air?”

“Yeah,” Killian said, standing up and fixing Matt’s jersey. “Here, c’mon, get off the table, Mattie. You uh…” “We’ve got it, Cap,” Ruby promised. “C’mere, mini-Jones. Let’s talk strategy.”

He didn’t let go of her hand when they walked back onto the block, or possibly the other way around, leaning against the side of the restaurant because there was snow on the curb.

“I’m sorry about--”

“--No, no, don’t apologize,” Emma cut in, and seriously she needed to ask Elsa for conversational tips. Maybe she needed to ask several people for help. Killian blinked in surprise, a fair reaction to the absolute vitriol in her voice and Emma wasn’t mad at him.

She was mad at...the world.

That sounded ridiculous. There wasn’t really anything to be mad about. Killian was fine and would be fine and this team would probably make the playoffs, but Emma’s brain would not shut up and even an absurd dance party in her office wasn’t enough to distract her for more than a few hours when that AHL asshole scored another goal.

“Red was upset she didn’t get an invite to your club this afternoon,” Killian said, mouth tugging up when Emma spun towards him. “Although I was a little confused by the specifics of it.” “It was kind of impromptu. How did she find out?” “How does anyone find out anything on this team? An absurd string of talking and gossip and interfering in each other’s lives.”

Emma laughed, humming in the back of her throat and Killian tugged her hand up when she tried to rest them both on his chest, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist. “When I was in school, I usually went to Reese’s house on breaks,” she said, doing her best to keep her voice light. “But one time, Christmas break of senior year, David invited both of us to his mom’s house. Ruth had way more rum for pies than Mr. Blanchard did. And she also had a questionably large record collection. Old 45s and singles an almost impressive amount of Beatles albums, like every one and then some collectors editions, and it was just...enormous.

And one day, Ruth went shopping and left us in her house with her alcohol and her music and we got incredibly tipsy on rum and found her collection of 80s hair bands. Ruth loved White Snake, you know.”

Killian’s laugh was more a guffaw, hot air moving over Emma’s skin because he’d never actually pulled his lips away from her wrist. She hoped he couldn’t feel how quickly it kept beating.

“I can’t quite imagine that,” he admitted.

“Swear to God, it’s totally true. So we started listening to White Snake and Duran Duran and Reese’s put on a pretty fantastic show of singing Living on a Prayer and Ruth totally caught us, but then she started singing too and it might have been the best Christmas I’d ever had until--”

“--Until,” Killian interrupted sharply, and Emma knew her cheeks were flushed. She’d blame the cold. It didn’t have anything to do with the cold.

“Until we stole a Christmas tree,” she said. “And every subsequent iteration after that just keeps getting better, don’t you think?” Killian nodded. “But, uh...the 80s thing kind of stuck with me and Reese’s and it’s a comfort thing or something less lame sounding.” “That doesn’t sound lame.” “That’s generous of you.” “I promise, Swan,” Killian said, and there was no way to doubt it or him or them and she needed to stop looking up CTE symptoms. She wished Husinger hadn’t scored. “I didn’t know that though.”

“I’m full of surprises, I guess.” He hummed, moving to the side of her jaw and the curve of her cheek and Emma bit her lip so David wouldn’t actually arrest them for public indecency. “I need to tell you something,” she muttered. He didn’t stop kissing her. “Killian, I’m serious.”

He leaned back, face even and Emma felt like she was standing at center ice in the middle of overtime and there was probably another gold medal on the line.

That was probably easier than this.

“I, um…” Emma started, tilting her head and hitting herself in the face with her hair. “I don’t think it’s going to actually matter, but you’re right about this team and I didn’t want you to hear from someone else before me and…”

“What, Swan?” “The league offered me a job.” Killian blinked, opening his mouth only to close it again and she didn’t expect him to kiss her.

His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, pulling her flush against his chest and that tongue thing was ridiculous because she couldn’t think when he did that, and Emma was sure he’d planned it that way.

She felt like she was breathing him in, fingers moving on their own and into his hair and she gasped when his hips canted up, rocking against her and the brick wall behind him in equal measure. Emma had to press up on her toes to reach him, a fact Killian didn’t seem particularly inclined to complain about any time soon.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Emma mumbled, earning a groan for talking that might have been because her left hand had found its way under his shirt. “That’s...this was unexpected.” “That’s incredible, Swan.” “What?”

“A job with the league?” Killian asked, leaning back again with a disbelieving look on his face. “That’s incredible. And exactly what you deserve to be doing, love.” “But I don’t…” “You don’t what?” “I just don’t have time to think about that right now.” He blinked again. She didn’t want him to do that. She was stupid attracted to the color of his eyes. “What does that mean?” “I’ve just got a million other things to do,” Emma explained, and she was ready for his eyebrows that time. They twisted and turned and arched and she had to breathe through her nose to stop herself from sighing too loudly. “And I bet they’ve got plenty of other people who could do it better than I could.” “They asked you though.” “I don’t really want to focus on it now. Let me get through Casino Night and that stupid thing we’ve got to do because Phillip hit some point marker first.” “When is that?” “Hopefully before Casino Night,” Emma quipped, and she felt Killian’s laugh before she heard it, lips ghosting over the shell of her ear. “I just didn’t want you to hear about it from Rubes or Reese’s before I told you.” “Do they know about it?”

Emma nodded. “They were both there when I got the phone calls.” “Plural?” Killian asked, voice catching on the word and eyes widening slightly and that was worse than the blinking.

“Tink was very determined, I guess.” It could not have been good for his face to be experiencing so many emotional changes at once. “Yeah, yeah,” Emma muttered, tugging on his t-shirt and one of them should have grabbed a coat. “Ruby told me about that. I mean you wanted to have two painfully adorable kids with me, so I’m not really threatened by the league lady with the slightly ridiculous laugh.” “We could keep making out on the sidewalk if that’d help.” “Nah, I bet David would actually arrest us. Hey, you think we can get him to arrest this AHL jerk? I bet I could get him to do it.” “He’s doing his job, Swan,” Killian said. “He’s supposed to score goals, I don’t think that makes him a jerk by default.” Emma nodded, lower lip jutted out slightly. There were goosebumps on her arms. “That was good,” she mused. “Super convincing, appropriate PR response.” “I’ve been practicing.” “Yeah, I figured. I was almost totally serious about the arrest.”

“I know you were, love, and as much as I appreciate that particular abuse of power, I think we’re good. And you should send the season tickets the e-mail thing about him. It’s ok.”

She almost stumbled over her own feet, jerking back and only staying upright when Killian’s hand tightened around the back of her shirt. “How?” Emma demanded.

“Zelena found me. Told me she knew you’d put up a fight and maybe I could help.” “Jeez.”

“It’s not your fault, Swan,” Killian said, and she knew they weren’t just talking about Husinger. “None of it. You’ve got to do your job. And that was a good goal.” “It was a shit goal and he’s a shit winger and I hate him.” Killian chuckled, kissing her quick and Emma chased after him, but they needed to get back into the restaurant and she heard the door swing open around the corner. “That’s the spirit,” Killian mumbled.

“Hey, uh, guys,” David called. “There’s some kind of argument happening here about proper faceoff technique and I think Matt’s going to challenge Rol to drop gloves.” “Yeah, we’ll be right there,” Killian said. The door sounded very loud when it closed. “It’s alright, Swan,” he continued. “Admittedly not great, but…” He shrugged, mouth twisted and Emma’s heart lurched, some kind of deep-rooted need to make sure he knew how good he was and better than that and he deserved a better schedule than the one they’d come up with.

“Super dad,” she whispered instead, and Killian kissed her before they went back into the restaurant.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #cs fic #blue line change #i seem to have a habit of making casino night very dramatic always #someday i'll just let them have fun at casino night

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