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dallanebbia · 4 years

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betsubara

title: betsubara fandom: bnha pariring: kacchako; bakugou katsuki x uraraka ochako word count: 3.9k (including text in posts) warnings: none synopsis: in which the u.a. test kitchen tries its hand at the whole youtube thing, and the internet collectively ships kacchako. bon appetit test kitchen au + socmed au notes: written for day 3 of kacchako week 2020, with the prompt ‘desserts & sweets.’ i know that BA has its share of problems, but i really wanted to write this after stumbling across ba test kitchen fanfics on ao3 and some social media aus on twitter… i have so much respect for people who make smau fics, i don’t know how you do it. ochako here is a bizarre mix of brad leone, solha el-waylly, liziqi and emmymadeinjapan, and bakguou…. is bakugou :’) ao3: [link]

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別腹 | betsubara (n.) – Japanese, second stomach for dessert

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Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jun 29, 2XXX My grandchildren said I would enjoy watching the UA test kitchen youtube channel, but I don’t know where to start. Can someone please give me some suggestions? Why do they change chefs in every video? 62 🗨️ 133 ⭮ 869k ♡

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↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson Hi Susan! I’m the kitchen manager for @ua_testkitchen, and I’d be happy to help! We have playlists for each of our web series on our YouTube channel, but I’ll do my best to explain each series below. 23 🗨️ 241 ⭮ 3.2k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Hot Takes – If you don’t mind some occasional foul language, this is a very popular series! Chef @bakugoukatsuki demonstrates techniques on how to make Japanese staples, from omurice to hand cut soba. It’s extremely educational! 123 🗨️ 213 ⭮ 3.5k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Bon Appetit – This series is all about French food, with Japanese twist! Chef @foreversparkling breaks down intimidating recipes like souffles, gougeres, and quiches for the amateur cook to try at home! 89 🗨️ 165 ⭮ 2.8k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX Farm to Table – If you’re interested in where your food comes from, this is a great choice! Chef @u_ochako shows viewers what it takes to grow and cultivate ingredients. She also delves into the science behind making things like kombucha, natto, and beer! 155 🗨️ 188 ⭮ 3.9k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX From Scratch – This is our only series with two hosts! We ask our chefs @shouto and @yaomomo to tackle the challenge of recreating popular junk food and snack items entirely from scratch. These can be anything, from your favorite candy to foreign staples like Twinkies! 102 🗨️ 288 ⭮ 2.7k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX 10 Chefs – This series asks ten of our @ua_testkitchen chefs to undergo a series of culinary challenges of varying difficulties. These can range from cutting a durian to cooking a live lobster! 48 🗨️ 85 ⭮ 1.4k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX The Great U.A. Bake Off – These are special videos that showcase U.A.’s biannual dessert competition! We invite renowned chef and television star @AllMight to join as our host and judge. Our resident pastry chef @satousugarman has held the title for the past four years! 99 🗨️ 174 ⭮ 2.1k ♡

↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jun 30, 2XXX We also film various instructional videos, which are not part of any particular series. These can be recipes or in-depth guides to various kitchen tools and appliances. Hopefully these give you a good place to start, and feel free to contact me if you have any other questions! 21 🗨️ 98 ⭮ 1.1k ♡

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↳ Susan Anderson @susan.anderson – Jul 01, 2XXX Thank you, Mr. Midoriya. I started watching Farm to Table, and I’m enjoying it a lot. I do have a question – I’m reading the comments, and there’s a cooking term I’m not familiar with. What is a “kacchako?” Is it a cooking appliance? 721 🗨️ 2.1k ⭮ 8.9k ♡

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↳ Just Call Me Midoriya (✓) @dekiru – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson … Um. 202 🗨️ 4.3k ⭮ 10.4k ♡

↳ jfc they’re actually clueless @hitoshinsou – Jul 02, 2XXX Replying to @susan.anderson and @dekiru yeah @dekiru, what is a kacchako? 180 🗨️ 961 ⭮ 2.9k ♡

… 331 more replies

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“Hey guys!” Uraraka waved cheerfully at the camera. “My name is Uraraka Ochako, and welcome back to Farm to Table, a show where we explore where our food comes from!”

“For today’s episode, we’re going to be doing something a liiittle different.” On the counter was a pile of misshapen brown lumps, mottled with different black and brown spots. “On our cacao episode, a lot of you were a little… shall we say, disappointed with me, when I didn’t make chocolate out of a cacao pod.”

Uraraka’s smile turned icy, as a screenshot popped up on screen. She held up a little slip of paper from her hand and cleared her voice.

“ ‘Making chocolate isn’t easy,’ ” she read, widening her eyes for emphasis. “ ‘This girl has no idea what she’s talking about.’ ”

The dark, saccharine expression on her face never faltered as she ripped up the paper into tiny pieces, throwing bits over her shoulder.

“Now, I’m here to show you that actually, yes – making chocolate can be easy!” The hard smile was replaced by a warm grin. “My friends at Tokyo Cacao sent me some pods to work with, and lucky for us, they’re ripe and ready to go!”

She beamed, picking up a pod and showing it off to the camera. “I’ll show you guys how to turn these bad boys into chocolate - and after that, I’m gonna share one of my favorite chocolate recipes with you!”

Uraraka then grinned mischievously. “First things first – we gotta crack this little guy open.” Reaching under the countertop, she whipped out a gigantic chef’s knife. It was easily as long as Uraraka’s forearm, and the polished blade was engraved with two characters that clearly read, ‘Bakugou.’

A choking sound was heard off screen.

“Holy shit Uraraka, you took it?!” A man popped into frame, gaping at the knife in Uraraka’s hand. “Dude, Bakugou’s been looking for that all morning - he’s going to kill you for real this time!”

“Not if he doesn’t find out,” she said seriously, fixing the blonde man with a pointed look. “You’re not going to rat me out, are you, Kaminari?”

“And get killed in his Baku-rage? No thanks.” He shivered, staring at the knife as if it was going to attack him. “At least you’ve got a chance of surviving.”

Uraraka laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re acting like he’s going to eat you or something.”

“You don’t know about poor Mineta,” Kaminari looked grave as he closed his eyes in a moment of silence, before scurrying out of frame. He called out, “If anyone, especially Bakubro, asks – I was never here!”

“O… kay?... ” Uraraka blinked at the camera for a few moments and then shook her head in amusement. “Anyways, back to the topic – opening the pod! The rind is pretty thick and slippery, so be careful where you’re cutting! The best way is to set the edge of the knife in one of the grooves and give it a good whack, like this - !”

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Pro Chef Makes Omurice | Hot Takes | U.A. Test Kitchen 3,439,062 views ･ August 29, 2XXX

To quote our favorite foul-mouthed chef: “Even a F***ing idiot can make omurice.”

Join Bakugou Katsuki in the U.A. Test Kitchen as he makes a Japanese comfort food staple, omurice. This isn’t your average, amateur omurice omelette video - Bakugou breaks down the special tricks and techniques he uses to achieve the perfect taste, shape and texture. His recipe uses buttery chicken, fried…

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10,237 comments

hvf26 – 3 hours ago Japanese gordon ramsey 👍 2.7K 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 25 replies

TipTop – 2 hours ago new drinking game: take a shot every time you hear “fuck” EDIT: 13 shots in and 18 minutes left, i give up 👍 8.6K 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 93 replies

shroomaster3110 – 9 hours ago bakugou: “even a fucking idiot can make omurice” also bakugou: “veal stock, red wine, honey, tomato paste, reduce for 3 days” me: instant ramen it is 👍 749 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 8 replies

obsssd1992 – 6 hours ago hOoly fuck the sound uraraka made when she tasted it 👍 9.4K 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 155 replies

vulcanus – 3 hours ago 7:33 cracking two eggs at the same time with one hand he really be flexing on us huh 👍 233K 👎 REPLY

periperi – 10 hours ago 22:18 is it just me or does bakugou look like he’s blushing??? like, his ears are so so red 👍 5.1K 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 84 replies

dinovino44 – 7 hours ago “just fucking flip it” I blinked and that shit literally went from goo to an omelet HOW 👍 144 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 3 replies

Angela B – 8 hours ago I would love to try this but i dont want to waste 17 dozen eggs trying to make it properly 👍 3.7K 👎 REPLY ⯆ View 29 replies

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“Oh fuck, that’s good,” Bakugou groaned, mouth full as he chewed. The mango-coconut tart in front of him was dotted with swirls of candied orange peel as a garnish, but it did nothing to hide the fact that the entire thing was dusted with a liberal coating of violent red chili powder.

At his side, Uraraka beamed, sniffling a little from the pervasive scent of spice in the air. “I added some lime too, just to break up the richness – it’s not too sweet?”

“S’fucking perfect.” Bakugou scarfed down the last bite of the piece in his hand. He let out another long moan, the sound of it deep and guttural, and Uraraka’s eyes widened as she stared, her cheeks turning red. “Screw it, I’m eating this for lunch.”

“Eh?” Uraraka blinked, snapping out of her daze just as the tray was snatched from her workbench. “Wait, wait – Bakugou! Give it back, I haven’t even tasted it yet!”

“Pft, like you wouldn’t down a carton of milk after one bite,” he scoffed, holding the tart above his head and trying to fend off Uraraka with his free hand as she pulled at his arm. “Fucking get off, Uraraka, I – !”

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SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX alright since some of y’all are fucking BLIND here’s a list of every bakugou x uraraka moment on the u.a. test kitchen youtube channel (a thread) 184 🗨️ 5.3k ⭮ 12.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Aug 17, 2XXX [01] the great u.a. Baking show, cheesecake: during taste tests bakugou hated every single person’s cheesecake EXCEPT uraraka’s peach and plum one. He said it was acceptable BUT THEN HE GOES BACK FOR ANOTHER PIECE 2 🗨️ 229 ⭮ 10.4k ♡

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↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Oct 28, 2XXX [33] farm to table, jicama/watermelon: bakugou says there isn’t enough heat in the dipping sauce during taste tests, uraraka then pulls out the extra spicy version she made just for him and bakugou looks flabbergasted when he tries it and then HE TAKES THE SAUCE HOME 10 🗨️ 121 ⭮ 2.4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [34] from scratch, shrimp chips: at 14:53 you can see bakugou and uraraka in the background working on something together and when aoyama comes in waving around a whisk like a madman bakugou PUTS HIS ARM AROUND HER WAIST AND PULLS HER OUT OF THE WAY 15 🗨️ 146 ⭮ 2k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Nov 01, 2XXX [35] from scratch, shrimp chips: when uraraka’s taste testing the final versions, she tells bakugou to come and try them. Bakugou grabs the chip she’s eating out of her hand and takes a bite AND THEN STUFFS IT BACK IN HER MOUTH BEFORE WALKING AWAY 29 🗨️ 132 ⭮ 2.4k ♡

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↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [69] hot takes, udon: bakugou says he’s only doing this video because someone said he had to, and uraraka mouths at the camera “he can’t say no to me” and bakugou sees her doing it but just rolls his eyes HE DOESN’T DENY IT 34 🗨️ 204 ⭮ 1.8k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 11, 2XXX [70] hot takes, udon: bakugou’s testing the dough consistency and yells at uraraka to come over so he can compare it TO HER CHEEKS and the man no cap says “not soft enough, it needs more pounding” and the blush on her face AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH 119 🗨️ 451 ⭮ 3.6k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jan 24, 2XXX [71] the great u.a. bake off, pavlovas: honestly just take this entire episode as proof you can FEEL the tension through the screen my god. the way they’re play-fighting/flirting throughout the episode jesus fucking christ the flavor is immaculate 85 🗨️ 154 ⭮ 2.1k ♡

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↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 01, 2XXX [82] bon appetit, coq au vin: aoyama asks uraraka for help and bakugou literally spends the entire video glaring at aoyama from the background and ochako mouths “I’m almost done katsuki” at 15:43 SHE USES HIS FIRST NAME 26 🗨️ 98 ⭮ 1.9k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Mar 09, 2XXX [83] hot takes, takoyaki: uraraka asks bakugou to taste test a smoothie for her and he goes, “the one you made yesterday was better” but later he says something about hating Mondays WHICH MEANS HE AND URARAKA WERE TOGETHER OVER THE WEEKEND 37 🗨️ 159 ⭮ 2k ♡

… 13 more replies

↳ teatime @kabedondon – 6h Replying to @retrograade the detail in this thread is scary but even more concerning is the fact that you’ve somehow managed to convince me, at the very minimum, that they’re fucking 13 🗨️ 1.1k ⭮ 4k ♡

↳ SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – 4h Replying to @kabedondon welcome to the club, hope you enjoy your stay 21 🗨️ 59 ⭮ 573 ♡

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Todoroki stared down at the gooey, green-streaked mess of chocolate in front of him mournfully. At his side, Yaoyorozu looked equally despondent, poking at the dull sheen of dark chocolate covering the biscuit in her hand.

“Should we…?” Todoroki glanced over hesitantly, and Yaoyorozu bit her lip.

“I was really hoping we’d get it this time.” She sighed heavily, before turning around. The camera zoomed out, the frame widening to show a few people milling around in the background. “Uraraka! Do you have a moment?”

A chirpy voice replied, “Sure!” Todoroki visibly sighed in relief, quickly dumping his mixing bowl into the sink of dirty dishes as Uraraka came into the shot.

“Huh, that’s definitely not right…” The brunette poked Yaoyorozu’s chocolate mixture with a frown. “What temperature did you heat this to?”

“45 degrees?” Uraraka hummed, scooping up a bit of the mixture and dumping it into her hand. She rubbed at it, frowning. “What did you use as your seeded chocolate?”

Todoroki slid the half-empty bag of chocolate chips across the counter, and Uraraka dumped a pile of them out. Little disks spilled across the marble, and she tested one piece between her clean fingers. “Uh, you know that you’re supposed to use tempered chocolate to seed, right?”

Todoroki opened his mouth, paused, then closed it abruptly. Yaoyorozu buried her face in her hands and audibly groaned.

“Hey, the good news is that you can totally reuse this!” Uraraka tried to smile encouragingly. “Did the matcha chocolate come out weird too, or –?”

“Oi, what the fuck is this?” The camera panned to the side, where Bakugou was holding up Todoroki’s abandoned mixing bowl in a fist, features twisted into a grimace. “Did all those e-cigs fry your brain, Half-and-half? Who the fuck doesn’t sift matcha before –”

“Hey, lay off of him, Bakugou.” Uraraka stomped over and snatched the bowl away. “Tempering is hard! And you know white chocolate is tricky.”

“Tch, please.” He scoffed. “What kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?”

Uraraka’s eyes flashed, and she planted her arms on her waist. “Have you ever tempered chocolate before?”

“What kind of dumbass question is that?” Bakugou growled. “Course I have, I didn’t live under a fucking rock like these two morons.”

Yaoyorozu bristled indignantly, but Uraraka held up her hand. Todoroki just looked tired, and muttered under his breath, “Here we go again…”

“Then you wouldn’t mind giving us a demonstration, would you?” Bakugou looked at her sweet, smiling face suspiciously. “Or are you too chicken to prove it?”

Red eyes flashed dangerously. “... the fuck did you just say?”

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The video cut to a shot of lumpy, melted white goo, before zooming out to show Bakugou’s scowl. “What the fuck is wrong with this shitty chocolate?” He kept stirring, even more vigorously this time, and looked down at the mixture as if he was trying to set it on fire with his glare.

Todoroki and Yaoyorozu were tucked a little ways away, snickering quietly as they watched from a safe distance away. Across from Bakugou, leaning casually against the counter, Uraraka smiled gleefully.

“Hur-dur, ‘what kind of idiot can’t temper chocolate?’ ” she mimicked, her voice lowered in an approximation of the blonde’s low growl. Uraraka laughed, and then ducked as a chocolate-covered spatula sailed over her head.

“FUCK OFF, ROUND FACE!”

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smolbean678 reblogged kryssalys ochaakou:

reasons you should stan uraraka ochako, u.a.’s farming goddess and resident bakugou whisperer:

- has probably saved about half of the “from scratch” episodes by virtue of being the only person in the entire u.a. test kitchen who can consistently temper chocolate

- speaking of chocolate, this woman pulled the hardest flex by making her own chocolate from a raw cacao pod, and then proceeded to make chocolate chicken mole with it just to prove to the haters that she could

- is the acting president of the musutafu ninniclub, a japanese club for lovers of garlic. she also openly admits to sleeping with a ninnikyun plushie, aka the club mascot which is apparently a giant garlic clove (seriously, you can’t make this shit up guys)

- vocal advocate of Feeding Japan, a hunger relief organization that works to combat food insecurity, and is frequently seen volunteering at food banks and soup kitchens (1) (2) (3) (4)

- a lot of the ingredients she features in the “farm to table” series come from her parent’s farm! (pics) she grew up working at her parents’ stall at her hometown farmer’s market and promotes buying locally to support regional farms and businesses.

- this masterpiece of a tweet: “I love food and I love to eat. If someone wants to shame me for my body then they can go fuck themselves.”

- creates recipes that not only taste good but are also healthy, quick, easy and beginner friendly – yes, I’m looking at you, mr. bakugou “just fucking flip it and reduce for 3 days” katsuki – see the archive of her recipes here (x)

- has a tiktok dedicated entirely to trolling todoroki’s reactions with weird flavors of soba, these are my favorites (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7)

- she’s a self-taught chef who started as a dishwasher and worked up to being the sous chef at ryuko tatsuma’s restaurant dragoon before coming to the u.a. test kitchen and was regularly praised by food critics (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

- has single-handedly saved u.a. millions of yen from that one time she stopped bakugou from ‘accidentally’ exploding an air fryer

- speaks fluent baku-rage, not to mention their chemistry is off the charts hoO BOY the slow burn is fucking real y’all

alright there’s so much more stuff but I fucking hate formatting links, so watch farm to table and follow uraraka on social media (twitter / instagram / tiktok) because this queen deserves our love. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

hoooooot-hoot:

[link] to the twitter thread for my fellow kacchako shippers, i gotchu

54,230 notes #ua test kitchen #kacchako #stan uraraka #bakugou better worship our queen or im gonna throw hands

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“Ugh.” Uraraka glared down at the sad, deflated lumps sitting in the middle of her ramekins. “Where is Aoyama when you need him?”

“That looks pathetic,” a blunt voice said, and Uraraka sighed as Bakugou came into the camera frame, leaning over the counter to peer into one cup with a skeptical look. “What the hell are you making?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be a pistachio-strawberry souffle.” She huffed, rubbing at her neck in frustration. “I can’t figure out how to get the nuts to distribute evenly… and it’s just not rising? I don’t get it – I remade my pastry cream like, three times, I know it’s fine, and I buttered my molds but it just…”

“You try freezing the molds after you butter them?” A frown came over Uraraka’s face as she shook her head. Bakugou grabbed one of the little cups, prodding the contents with a finger, and made a face. “Keeps it from contaminating your mixture and fucking up the rise.”

“When I make them at home, they’re usually fine at room temp,” she said dejectedly. “I don’t know why I can’t get it right today.”

The camera zoomed in a little, focusing on Bakugou’s expression as he glanced towards Uraraka. He looked a little concerned, and after a beat of silence, he came around the counter to stand beside her.

“Oi, don’t get all mopey on me, Cheeks.” He nudged her shoulder lightly, settling a hand across the back of Uraraka’s neck. “You good?”

She sighed heavily, leaning a little into his hand. “Yeah, yeah, I just… I don’t know. My brain isn’t working right now.”

“Tch.” Bakugou looked over the mess of bowls spread across the counter, eyes settling on the deflated looking egg-whites on one side. “Look – I’ll help ya out, just this once. Don’t quit on me now, yeah?

She blinked, looking up at him with furrowed brows. “But I thought… don’t you have that thing, with –”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. This is more important,” he said, shrugging off his leather jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Uraraka just looked back at him in confusion.

“But…” She bit her lip hesitantly. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou smirked back at her as he tied on his apron. “I got you, Cheeks.”

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[Video: Todoroki, frozen in place with blank eyes and noodles falling out of his mouth as someone shakes his unresponsive body]

u_ochako: i… may have made chocolate flavored soba. PLEASE DON’T CRY TODOROKI #imsorry ♡ 137.4K 🗨️ 3251

trololoki: holy shit he actually looks like he’s about to cry View replies (157) ⯆

augusttine: can we all agree that what makes this 10x funnier is bakugou’s hyena cackling in the background View replies (209) ⯆

u_24: this is soba-sphemous View replies (54) ⯆

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Uraraka rubbed her eyes, blinking as she gaped.

“You…” She looked up at him, chin trembling. “Did you really…?”

“Tch.” Bakugou huffed, trying to hide a smile. “What, your eyes don’t work now, Cheeks?” he teased.

“I just - ” Uraraka pinched herself, yelping at the pain, before a huge, toothy smile broke out across her face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you actually did it.”

“You did get on your knees and beg, so…” He shrugged, snickering as Uraraka approached the counter reverently, her face glowing in sheer joy. “Ten kinds of mochi, as fuckin’ promised.”

She turned to him pleadingly. “Can I…?”

“I already took the photos.” He nodded at the spread, a rainbow of different colors delicately arranged with a pot of tea, ready to be eaten. “Go for it, babygirl.”

Uraraka already had a daifuku mochi halfway to her mouth, lips open as she got ready to take a bite, when an unfamiliar voice cut into the video.

“Wait a second.” Both of them paused to look at the camera in confusion. “Did he just call you babygirl?”

There was a beat of silence, before Uraraka’s face exploded into a bright red blush. Next to her, Bakugou quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

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[Photo: an image featuring white sheets and pillows, a woman’s bare upper back, and messy brown hair with a woman’s face half-buried in a pillow]

Liked by dekiru, redkiri, and 541,803 others bakugoukatsuki: delicious u_ochako: UM bakugoukatsuki: @u_ochako did i lie though shouto: thank god fucking finally View all 6,248 comments

3 HOURS AGO

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SHIP KACCHAKO @retrograade – Jun 04, 2XXX RT @marsali: I. FUCKING. CALLED. IT.

THIS IS WHAT DREAMS ARE MADE OF @marsali – 21m @retrograade THE SHIP HAS SAILED I REPEAT THE SHIP HAS SAILED #kacchako [media attached]

42 🗨️ 3.8k ⭮ 8.7k ♡

#kacchako #kacchakoweek2020 #bakugou katsuki #uraraka ochako #bakuraka #by nebbia #bnha #fanfiction #ba test kitchen au #socmed au #kacchako smau

34 notes · View notes

resident-of-storybrooke · 5 years

Text

Under the Mistletoe

Rated: We’ll go with M for language

9.6k words...apparently I was making up for lost time this year lol

Read: AO3 or fanfic or wattpad

Summary: Killian is Emma’s favorite barista. Emma is Killian’s favorite customer. But what if Killian wants more and Emma needs a date to take home for the holidays? Will they get burnt, or will they be brewing in love?

AN: I am excited to finally share, @nevertothethird, tis I your Secret Santa!!! It has been an absolute joy getting to talk to you these last few weeks. I hope you have an epic road trip, and I hope that you enjoy your gift. This the first proper thing I’ve written all year and boy does it feel good to write again. Thank you @cssecretsanta2k19 for putting this all together, blessed to be a part of the event for the third year now. And MASSIVE thank you to @kymbersmith-90 for beta-ing the hell out of this bad boy for me, couldn’t have done this without you, my friend!

tagging some of the fam squad (I don’t have a tag list, please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed): @kymbersmith-90 @let-it-raines @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @hookedonapirate @carpedzem @nowforruin @kmomof4 @wellhellotragic @thesschesthair @doodlelolly0910 @welllpthisishappening @flslp87

Please enjoy and ALL THE LOVE!!!

Killian would rip the bloody chimes down if he knew that Belle wouldn't be pissed about it. Every time someone comes in or out of the coffee shop, the light tinkling sounds acts as a reminder. A reminder that he lost Liam eleven years ago. A reminder that he fled England the year after spiraling without his brother. He doesn't hate his job; honestly, it's not a bad gig; he’s thankful that Belle took pity on a fellow expat and gave him the opportunity. It just that sometimes listening to peoples' ridiculous coffee orders annoys him - hence why he spends most of his time in the back baking. Well, that was until she walked in a few weeks ago.

He didn't know much, only that her name was Emma and she liked to order the same drink every time, never once considering anything else. Sometimes she splurged on a baked good that always seemed to align with the days that Killian had spent baking. He always took pride in his work, but ever since Emma walked in, he had upped his game.

Killian didn't believe in love at first sight, but there was something there he couldn't deny it. She was a ray of sunshine in his otherwise dull rainy days. The first time Emma had stopped in all those months ago, Killian swore his heart had skipped a beat. That Tuesday had felt like any other day, until she’d stepped through the door. The shop wasn’t overly crowded or loud that day, but there seemed to be this peace she brought into the room with her. Killian might have been too distracted by his haze of admiration to actually listen to her order. It wasn't until he’d heard her laugh that he realized she was laughing at him.

"Uh...um, wow...yeah, sorry, love. What can I get for you?"

She stepped closer to the counter, acting like he couldn't hear her giving him an out. "Can I have a large hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon on top, please?"

"Cinnamon? Really?" Killian usually didn't care much to interact with his customers. Still, he knew this was a fleeting moment and he was going to do everything in his power to enjoy every second of it.

"Yeah, it adds a nice little kick.."

"Ah, well, perhaps I'll have to give it a try myself, love." Killian knew he could be charming, but he also knew he laying it on a little thick at that moment. However, that didn't seem to bother Emma as her cheeks soon had the loveliest shade of blush gracing them.

"Name?"

"If I tell you mine, you have to tell me yours. Deal?"

Killian couldn't help the grin that overtook his face. "Aye, we have an accord."

"Emma. My name is Emma."

"Emma...beautiful." Then he heard her laugh again and realized like a git he’d said her name aloud. "Uh, sorry about that. I didn't mean -"

"No worries…"

It took him a moment to remember side of the deal. "Killian, the name is Killian Jones." He reached out his hand, and thankfully Emma gave him hers, but instead of shaking it like a normal man would have, Killian brought her hand to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it.

They only interacted briefly. Killian made sure to take her order and that he was the one to serve her as well. He didn't normally do that for anyone else. The moment Belle caught on, she teased him relentlessly; however, she never got in the way of Killian's fleeting moments with Emma. Belle was a good boss and an event better friend for that.

He wished that one day he would grow a pair and actually talk to Emma, beyond taking her order, maybe one day. And perhaps that day was coming soon....

Emma entered with a huff and went right to her seat. Somehow, it was always empty whenever she came in. Killian grabbed her usual and a chocolate cinnamon cookie because she seemed to need something sweet. But as he walked over, he realized she was on the phone.

"Yeah...no...of course...I'll be home. Yeah yeah yeah, I know, Ruth. I'll make sure to bring him too. I know you're excited to meet him. He's excited to meet you all."

Killian felt his heart fall. She was with another man. The fantasy of a future with Emma finally came crashing down. He almost dropped the cup of hot chocolate and ran off, but managed to hold himself together long enough to set it down on her table. Right before he could make an escape for the backroom, Emma grabbed his arm.

"Killian, here, let me pay you for this." As she reached into her purse, Killian tried to ignore the spark that ignited inside of him at the feel of her hand on his arm.

"It's on the house, love." She looked up, thankful, to say the least.

"But Killian, are you sure?"

"Aye, you're here enough; you've earned a free treat. Besides, it sounds like you have a lot going on. It’s the least I could do."

Emma's face fell in confusion and then she seemed to realize what he meant. "Oh, the phone call? Yeah, my mom is expecting me to bring my boyfriend home."

Killian tried not to let that crush him; obviously, she was distressed and needed to share her burdens with someone. He just didn't understand why it needed to be him. "What seems to be the problem? Does he not want to meet your family?”

"Ha, God, I wish. No, um, you see I - oh God, it's gonna sound so stupid - I lied about having a boyfriend." Killian stood there in shock. "Ruth, my mother, is great and everything, but she’s been begging me to bring home a guy for a while now. I skipped out on Thanksgiving for a case, in favor of going home. And instead of telling her that, I may have lied and said I was staying here with my boyfriend."

"The boyfriend that doesn't exist, right?"

"Yeah, way to keep up there, Jones. So...I don't have a boyfriend and apparently, Ruth is organizing some massive holiday party where I am expected to make a debut with him. And I'm slowly realizing that this was probably the stupidest thing I could have ever come up with. I mean, I'm a grown woman. I should've just told her the truth. And now I have to go back home - without a boyfriend - and deal with -"

"I can go."

"What did you just say?

Killian realized that his brain must no longer be connected to his mouth, because only an idiot would have said he would go. But then he saw the look on Emma’s face. There was something in her eyes - maybe it was hope - or maybe it was desperation. He hoped it was the former.

“I said,” he sat down next to her, “I would be more than willing to go home with you, Emma.” Her eyes immediately met his, and she could tell he was serious about his offer.

“Killian, that’s sweet but we barely know each other. My brother is going to be there. He’s a cop. Actually - a detective. He’s good at sniffing out the truth so he’ll through the charade the moment we step through the door.”

“I know, love. But maybe I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to learn more about you.” Emma looked away as she blushed. “I’m serious about my offer. I’d be more than happy to accompany you home and make this the best Christmas for you.”

“You’d really do that for me?”

Killian could see the tears in her eyes, barely held back. “Aye, love. I think you’ll find I’d do anything to make you smile.” He brought his thumb to her cheek and gently wiped the stray droplets away. “So, just who are you, Emma?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she said, chuckling as she tried to defuse the tension.

“Perhaps I would, love.”

Emma gave him a disarming smile - and that was when Killian knew he was in trouble.

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Killian had two weeks to learn everything possible about Emma Swan. The first thing he learned was that her last name was Swan, and he found that it fit her well. He’d also learned that she was a bail bonds person, she liked dogs and cats (but dogs more) and she looked up to David (her brother) more than anyone else. Killian had shared that he had been in the Royal Navy with his brother; and that he missed home (but he preferred the weather here in Boston). And, of course, that he enjoyed a glass of rum every now and then.

The drive from Boston to Storybrooke, Maine wasn’t long per se, but nonetheless, Emma was a bit on edge. Killian tried his best to keep her calm during the six-hour car ride. Seeing Emma at ease, without a care in the world, was sublime. He could tell it was something she rarely got to experience, and now it was his mission in life to give her the moments more often.

After their rousing version of carpool karaoke that would put James Cordon to shame, they decided to finalize their cover story once more.

“We met at a Fourth of July party where-”

“Where you just found me too irresistible and-”

“You wish.”

Killian took his eyes off the road for a moment to gaze upon Emma. “Aye, love,” he agreed, and added a wink for good measure.

Emma rolled her eyes and continued their fib of a love story. “You just happened to work at the local coffee shop around the corner from my place...”

“And eventually you realized I’m a dashing rapscallion that you couldn’t live without.” Emma gave another of her non-infamous eye rolls and Killian added, “Scoundrel?” He could see Emma tense up suddenly, and Killian realized that perhaps he had made her uncomfortable. “Love, I’m sorry if I crossed a line. I was merely jesting.”

He peeked over to see she was looking out the window, lost in thought. Four songs, not that Killian counted, played before she spoke. “It’s not that, Killian. It’s just...do you think we can do this? We have to make my family believe that we’re halfway in love with one another for the next week. Are you really ready to commit to that?”

Little did she know, Killian thought, he was more than halfway in love - if not already there himself. But he still took a moment to consider the consequences of their silly little plot, and how they would be greater for Emma than for himself. He pulled off to the side of the road and said, “Emma, I swear to you I wouldn’t have agreed to this if I didn’t believe in us. I promise I will do everything in my power to make you feel comfortable these next few days, and to be the best date you could ever bring home.”

Killian held his breath as Emma stared at him. He could see the caution in her eyes, the weariness of the whole nefarious scheme. But then he saw it. There was hope in her eyes. Maybe it was reflected from his, but he swore at this moment, Emma believed they could do this.

She didn’t say a word, merely nodded her head, and Killian got the car back onto the road. The rest of the drive went without a hitch. In fact, they were a little ahead of schedule when they arrived in Storybrooke.

“Would you, um...like to see where I grew up?” Emma said, a bit unsure of how to act now that they had arrived.

“I would be honored to learn more about your beginnings, love.” Emma gave him the same tentative smile from earlier and directed him around the small town.

Killian felt an odd sense of familiarity, as they explored the town. Storybrooke reminded him of the village he grew up in back in England. As they drove around, Emma pointed out some of her favorite places. The first being Granny’s, a diner that apparently had the best grilled cheese and onion rings Emma had ever tasted. She also showed him the sheriff’s station, where she may or may not have spent some “time” after being caught with a boy underneath the bleachers in the wee hours of the night. Emma shared the story of how Ruth had let her off easy after being left in the cell for ten minutes. Emma had been worried Ruth would kick her out, but apparently, she had just laughed, and suggested Emma find a different venue - and better yet, a different boy. Killian chuckled at that. He already owed a debt to Ruth for finding his Swan and giving her a home, but he could see this woman had changed Emma’s life in many different ways, and for that, he could never repay her.

As their little tour came to an end, Killian pulled up to Ruth’s house, and Emma began to fidget in her seat once more. “Swan, it’ll be okay,” he promised. She simply stared at the house in silence. “Emma, I promise it’ll be the best week of your life. I’ll do everything in my power to make it so.”

Just as Killian made a move to unbuckle his seatbelt, Emma leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. Both instantly turned red at the display of affection, and Killian realized they needed to get this out of their system if they were going to convince everyone they’d been dating for months.

After climbing out of the car, Killian moved confidently around the trunk to grab their suitcases. When Emma began to protest, Killian told her it was what a good boyfriend would do before he shot her a cheeky wink and then headed for the door.

They didn’t get the chance to ring the doorbell. Ruth had already opened the door and pulled Emma in for a hug when Killian made it to the doorstep. He took a moment to enjoy seeing Emma with someone who cared so deeply for her, and whom she cared for as well.

“Ah, well, don’t you think you should introduce me to your man here, Beans?”

Killian swore he heard Emma grumble at the embarrassing nickname, and he very much looked forward to hearing the story behind it. “Ruth, this is Killian Jones. Killian, this is my mother, Ruth.” As Killian reached his hand out, Ruth completely bypassed it and went right for a hug. Killian had lost his mother when he was a lad, so the maternal display of affection was unfamiliar but not unwanted.

“M’lady, it is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said as he reached for her hand once more and placed a kiss on her knuckles.

“Oh, now I see why Emma’s been hiding you away. You are far too charming for your own good.”

Killian was unsure if the woman meant it as a jest or was somehow already seeing through their facade. He stood there with a nervous smile.

“Speaking of charming, where’s David and Mary Margaret?” Killian was thankful for Emma’s quick thinking. He needed to chill out if they were ever going to make this work.

“Oh, they’re already inside. Come on in, you two!”

As Killian stepped inside the old Victorian home, he couldn’t help but feel that this was a loving home full of special memories. When he made his way out of the foyer, he saw the wall - practically a shrine - full of photographs of Emma and David. The pictures of Emma only started in her teens after Ruth adopted her, but there were just as many of her as there were of David.

Killian only got to enjoy those for a moment, as Emma tugged on his arm to continue into the living room. Inside there was there he saw a man around his height with sandy brown hair and to his left, a much smaller woman with a pixie haircut dancing around. Killian recognized David instantly from the pictures in the hallway, and he knew that the woman dancing was Mary Margaret - David’s very pregnant wife. The two seemed to be lost in their own world as he entered the room, but the moment. As soon as Mary Margaret caught a glimpse of them, she ran over to Emma, nearly tackling her with the force of her hug.

“Oh, jeez, M’s! I didn’t know that baby bump was part bulldozer! A little warning next time.”

Mary Margaret laughed at Emma’s comment. “Well, you see Emma, it has many perks. The best being a table for when I’m sitting.”

The two women started to gab about the pregnancy and life in Storybrooke, which left Killian awkwardly standing there. Ruth handed him a drink, which he believed it was eggnog (he’d never had it before). While he sipped his drink, Killian stood there watching Emma enjoy reuniting with her family. Though he had always been able to tell that she had a kind heart, Emma definitely kept it hidden from most of the world. Killian relished the thought of being the one to put her heart out there, and hoped that she wouldn’t feel the need to hide from him.

He was interrupted from his musings when David stood from his seat to approach the newcomer.

“David Nolan, Emma’s big brother. It’s nice to meet you.”

Killian reached his hand out. “Killian Jones. It’s nice to meet you as well, mate.”

“So, Killian, how long have you been with my sister?”

Killian tried to keep his composure, as this was the first real test to see if he and Emma could make it through the week without an incident.

“Well, you know your sister, mate. It can take her a minute to trust someone. I recently moved to the area-”

“From England?”

“Ah, though the accent may say otherwise, I have lived in the States for nearly a decade now. But I’ve, I just moved to Boston to work at my friend’s coffee shop. I’m the baker. Emma’s actually frequent flyer there, and we just started chatting a bit. She was kind enough to show me around the city, and I help her with her perps sometimes. Realized we were practically dating-”

“And I realized that I’d found a good one, and I should hold onto him for a bit. Maybe, haha.” Emma had come from nowhere and wrapped her arms around him. For a moment, Killian wished this was more than pretend, that Emma wanted to be with him and wasn’t just doing this for show. However, he knew he needed to get it together if they were ever going to make it through this week, and have some form of friendship after it was over.

As if on instinct, Killian leaned down slightly and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. He heard Emma’s breath hitch and tried not to take it personally.

The answer seemed to appease David enough for the moment.

“Oh, I forgot to show you to your room! Sorry about that, Killian. Follow me and we can get your things up to Emma’s old room.” Ruth seemed excited to show Killian the rest of the home.

“Oh, I can show him the room, Ruth. There’s no need for you to go up there for that!”

Emma grabbed his arm and practically dragged Killian, up the stairs to the bedroom. That’s when he realized why she was so insistent on showing him his room alone. It was their room. They would be forced to share Emma’s childhood bed for the week.

“Swan, I can take-”

“I’ll take the floor.”

“Love, it’s more than fine. What kind of gentleman would I be if I made you sleep on the floor? That’s not an option.”

“Killian, you’re already doing all of this. The least I could do is sleep on the ground.”

Before Emma could get another word out, David barged into the room, almost as if he anticipated interrupting something. “What do you want, David?”

“Mom just wanted me to grab you, dinner is ready,” he was silent for a beat before he turned his attention towards an extremely nervous Killian. “I’m watching you, Jones,” was all he said, before he left the room.

“Sorry about that. They really don’t believe in personal space in this house.”

“Ah, which is why, and only why, I suggest we may have to share the bed.” Emma immediately opened her mouth to argue with him when Killian stopped her. “Love, you just said they don’t respect boundaries, even in the bedroom. What are they to believe when they see you in the bed and me on the floor? That’s only going to lead to more lies and headaches. I promise, Swan, I’ll completely respect your boundaries if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

“It’s not that, it’s just...I don’t trust myself…”

“Afraid you won’t be able to keep your hands off me?”

“Actually, yes.”

Killian looked at Emma, as she stood on the opposite side of the bed. The distance felt much further. He could tell that she had instantly regretted saying that, but he wouldn’t let her for another moment.

“Emma, I won’t deny my nerves as well, but I believe that we can both be adults here. As I said, I would never put you in a situation that made you feel anything less than comfortable. If you’re truly unsure, I’m willing to sleep on the floor and set an alarm to get into bed just in case they barge in.”

“No, no, that’s silly. Like you said, we’re both adults. We can share. Now come on, it’s time for dinner.”

“As you wish.”

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The rest of the first night continued without a hitch, most of the attention on Mary Margaret given that she was nearly the end of her pregnancy, as the baby was due in February. David remained silent throughout most of the dinner, continuously eyeing Killian, but he tried to ignore the other man’s suspicion.

The first night in bed, however, was anything but comfortable. Both tried to act as though the other was not there and continue with their normal bedtime rituals. But the silence was unnerving, and neither of them knew how to relieve the tension. Killian didn’t help when he removed his Henley, and Emma saw him shirtless for the first time. He hadn’t thought that through because when he turned around to face her, Emma couldn’t hide her gaping mouth and wide eyes. He wouldn’t lie, it felt good to have an affect on her. Killian knew he was a handsome man, but he hadn’t been concerned about female attention in a long time now - not until Emma had walked into his life. He saw the blush rise in her cheeks and though he wished he could see how far that blush went, he decided it was probably best that he put a shirt on.

Emma was the first to break the silence. “Um, what side of the bed would you like?”

“Whichever side you do not prefer, love. I have no qualms, either way, I assure you.”

“Do you always talk like that?”

“Like what, Swan?”

“Like you’re much older than you actually are. Like you’ve just stepped out of some Jane Austen novel?” Emma finally made her way into the bed, and Killian slide in next to her.

“I’ve talked this way since I was a wee lad. I guess it stuck with me. Does it make you uncomfortable? Would you rather me say ‘Psh, you can pick whatever side you want, boo?’”

Emma lost it at his horrible American accent and rolled over to laugh in his face - but froze when she saw how close they were. “No, um, no, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable. It’s just...I...I’ve never met anyone like you, Killian Jones.”

Emma locked eyes with him, and he saw it again, that hope was back from earlier in the day. “Aye, love, I’m one of a kind.” Killian could still sense her nerves so he suggested, “Perhaps we should get some shut-eye? I think I heard that we’re going Christmas tree shopping in the morning. David said he was going to put my muscles to the test, whatever that means.”

“Oh, he’s gonna see if you can carry the tree by yourself - which you won’t be able to. And neither can he. I’m sorry he’s coming off like such a-”

“Like a big brother? It’s nothing to fret over love; my brother was the same way.”

“Wait, you have a brother?”

Killian cursed himself for letting that slip out. “I had a brother. Liam, he passed away about a decade ago.”

Emma fell silent for a moment before she said, “You told David you moved here ten years ago.”

It wasn’t a question, but Killian knew what she meant, “Aye. I left England after his death. I couldn’t be there anymore. He was the only family I had left, and it was just too much being there without him. I made my escape and never looked back.”

“Do you miss it?”

Killian took a deep breath in, “I miss him. I miss the trouble we got into as lads and the pub that was on the corner of our street,” that got a laugh from Emma. But I do not wish to move back. I’ve found a home here, and some people I truly care for.”

“I’m sorry about Liam. if you ever want to talk about him, I hope you know I’m here for you.”

“Thank you, Emma. I appreciate that greatly, perhaps one day I’ll share a tale or two with you.”

“I look forward to it. Sleep well, Killian.”

“You as well, love.”

He’d never meant to share that part of his life with Emma. Not right now. However, he couldn’t help but feel relieved that she’d welcomed him to share his stories. It was almost like she genuinely cared for him. So, Killian fell asleep with a smile on his face and a heart full of hope that perhaps this wasn’t going to be a big mistake.

The mistake, in this case, happened when Killian woke up. Emma was using him as a pillow and their legs were intertwined. He finally had her in his arms and Killian relished that moment. She looked so at ease and comfortable, almost like she was meant to be there and he was meant to hold her.

Then she awoke.

Emma’s peaceful smile quickly fled, and panic took over her, the blush rising once more, as she stuttered an apology.

“I assure you love, I have no issues with being a body pillow. Perhaps though, I should wear a shirt where your drool-”

“I do not drool!”

“The stain on my shirt proves otherwise, my dear.”

“Well, I...uh...shit, sorry I’ll just go get ready.”

Killian quickly reached for her hand to diffuse any concerns she had. “I promise, love, it’s not anything to fuse over. I was merely making a joke.” He held onto her hand as she nodded, and then bent forward to place a gentle kiss on her hand, just as he’d done the first time they met. Emma, still in some form of shock or panic, freed her hand and then hurried from the room to get ready for the day.

Killian fell back onto the bed moaning, thankful she’d missed the part of his body that also seemed to enjoy her close proximity. He needed to take care of that at some point, but perhaps not in her childhood bed. Killian decided to make his way downstairs, and he would bring Emma some hot chocolate as a peace offering. Peace from what, though? From him? He continued to war with himself until he heard a voice.

“What do we know about him? I mean really, she didn’t tell you his name until a week ago!”

“David, that’s enough! He seems to be a charming young man who cares about your sister.”

“So did the last one, and look how that ended! I don’t trust him. Something’s going on between the two of them and I don’t like it.”

“Exactly, David, something is going on between them and it’s something serious. I know she’s your sister but she’s also a grown woman. She can make her own choices and Killian seems to be a good one. Did you see how he was looking at her? It’s the same way you look at me, David. He loves your sister that much is obvious. And I don’t think it’s one-sided.”

“What do you mean, Mary Margaret? You think she, that she…”

“You can say it, David. I think your sister loves Killian - if not yet, then she’s getting there. I’ve known her for a long time, and I’ve never seen her like this. Not with Walsh, August, or even Neal.”

Killian was torn on what to do at that moment. Obviously, this was a conversation not intended for his ears. He couldn’t help but wonder what Mary Margaret was hinting on about with Emma’s ex-lovers, but now was not the time for him to ask.

A lull in their conversation finally gave him the proper time to make his presence known.

“Good morning everyone.” Killian tried to act normally and not as if that conversation was going to replay in his mind for the remainder of the day.

“Oh, good morning, Killian. How did you sleep?”

“Like a rock, love. And you? I hope the babe is letting you get some rest before he makes their grand entrance.”

“Ah, he was kicking up a storm last night so not too much sleep. Would you like some coffee?”

“Actually, I was coming down to make Emma some hot chocolate. Do you happen to have some chocolate in the house?”

“Are you going to make it from scratch?”

“Aye, I never give her the premade stuff. I know better than to get in the way of Emma and her sweets.”

“Smart man,” David said, finally acknowledging Killian’s presence. Mary Margaret grabbed everything he would need without question, Killian went to work quickly on the hot chocolate. He made sure to add her cinnamon on top, and everyone in the room seemed impressed that he’d remembered it.

Just as he was finishing, Emma came into the kitchen and went right for the cup without a second thought, she pushed herself onto her toes and kissed Killian on the cheek. The group made breakfast together, except for Emma who was a well-known disaster in the kitchen. Killian enjoyed his time with Mary Margaret and Ruth. He’d always had a knack for cooking and baking, so Killian felt at ease for the first time all day.

As they finished their meal and put away the leftovers, David and Emma started prepping the living room for the tree. They bickered back and forth on what size they wanted versus what would work in the room.

“Yes, they’ve always been like this.” Ruth said as she came from upstairs.

Killian was caught off guard by the comment, “Seems as though they love each other, regardless of their differences opinions on Christmas trees.”

“This is nothing. You should’ve seen them when they were younger, lord, there were days that I questioned if I could handle two teens.”

“Though my opinion may not mean much on the matter, you obviously did an amazing job with the two of them. I know I’m biased when it comes to Emma, and I don’t know David well, but they both seem lucky to have had a mother such as yourself.”

“Thank you for saying that, Killian. Will I get a chance to meet your parents soon. They must be proud of having such a wonderful young man for a son.”

Emma and her family really had a knack for hitting on sensitive subjects, it seemed. “Unfortunately, my mother passed when I was eight and my father became overwhelmed by everything. He left my brother and me one night. Luckily, my brother was eighteen at the time and was able to gain custody of me. We lived together for about a decade until a drunk driver took his life.”

Ruth didn’t say anything and although Emma was not hers biologically, he could see the same look upon her face as when Killian had told Emma his story. “Well, please know you are always welcome to join our family. I’m happy that Emma’s found you. I think you’ll both be good for each other.”

“Aye,” Killian was overwhelmed by the woman’s kindness. “she’s the best thing I have in my life, if I’m honest.”

Thankfully, Emma came over and seemed to sense the tension, as when Killian reached his arm out for her, she instinctively curled into his side. Ruth smiled at the couple, truly delighted that her Emma found someone as wonderful as Killian.

Everyone gathered their coats and gloves and made their way to the van to head for the Christmas tree farm. David and Emma continued their conversation on which tree was the best and what size they were looking for. Killian enjoyed witnessing the small family moments and desperately wished he could have done the same with his mother and Liam.

When they arrived at the farm and had climbed out the van Emma reached for Killian’s hand. Even through the gloves he could still feel that spark. “Everything okay?” Emma asked.

“Aye, love. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just, you’ve been really quiet since we left the house. Is it because of what happened this morning, cause-”

“Oh, no, love, it’s nothing like that. It’s just, I mean, I told you a bit about my past. But I’ve just never had a real Christmas tree before. It wasn’t something Liam and I felt was important when we lived together. And seeing you with your brother, arguing over which one to get, reminds me of what I’ve been missing out on for some time now.”

“Well, for this week, you’re a part of this family. So you can argue about the tree if you want.”

“Funny, your mother said the same thing.”

Emma pulled away for a moment. “My mother said what to you?”

“That I was a part of the family, or I could be, if I wanted to.”

“Do you?”

Killian paused for a moment, not because he needed to give it any thought but because he knew his answer could make Emma run. “Aye, love, I would be honored to be a part of anything with you.” He looked down at her and saw a single tear running down her face. When he reached out to wipe it away Emma grabbed onto his hand. He didn’t know why, but he had the urge to kiss her at that moment, and she didn’t look too opposed to the idea when he saw her eyes linger over his lips. Just as he started to move towards her, they were interrupted.

“You guys, you better hurry otherwise David will - oops sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. Maybe I can come back after you’ve had your...uh...moment?”

Killian sighed in defeat, “Perhaps we should get a move on, Swan? Don’t wanna hear you complaining about the tree not being perfect when we get back home.” Emma laughed and lightly shoved his chest.

The hunt for ‘The Great Christmas Tree of 2019’ was on, and Killian did everything in his power to ensure David wouldn’t hate him by the end of the day.

The two men bickered often, but it reminded him of the way he and Liam used to act. As the day went on, David eased up on him, and even offered to help carry the tree the van instead of making Killian hike it back himself.

It was when they’d finally gotten the tree home and started work on decorating it that Killian began to feel like this was where he was meant to be. That him offering to be Emma’s fake date was not a horrible idea but, in fact, the start of something great for them both.

Ruth announced that she was calling it an early night, and the couples decided to have a little movie marathon. David and Mary Margaret claimed the sofa so she could spread out, which left Emma and Killian with the love seat. It sat two comfortably, but only if the two were comfortable sitting close to one another. Killian tried to keep his composure as Emma laid the blanket over both of them their legs and snuggled. He draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in a little closer - just to keep up the ruse.

Killian had no idea what movie they watched, all he was concerned with was Emma’s hand, which had been drawing nonsensical patterns on his stomach. He truly believed she had no idea what she was doing and when he looked at her, she stopped - but for a moment. When Killian kissed the crown of her head, her hand continued it’s patterns.

After the third or fourth movie, Killian realized that Emma was fast asleep at his side. David and Mary Margaret talked about putting on the next film, but Killian told them he was going to take Emma to bed. While he knew the logical idea was to wake her up, he didn’t want to disturb her peace. So, Killian carried her up the stairs and into their bedroom. When he gently placed her down on the bed, he saw her scrunch up her nose and put her hands out, as if she were looking for someone.

Killian quickly changed and go into bed. It only took a moment for Emma to curl into his side once more and when she did, Killian welcomed her into his arms.

When he woke the next morning, Killian found himself in a different position. Emma’s back was towards him and he, for all intents and purposes, was spooning her. One hand was wrapped around Emma (because apparently, he liked to cling to her possessively in his sleep) and the other was tucked under his head. It didn’t take long for Killian’s body to react to Emma’s close proximity. He tried to keep his thoughts pure; to think about literally anything else. But nothing seemed to distract him from the goddess in his arms.

Killian truly though he had slipped into some sort of alternate universe when he felt Emma move. It wasn’t to wake up; she was slowly grinding her body against his. He knew he was playing with fire, so he quickly detached himself from Emma, and decided that he would need a cold shower to try and diffuse the situation.

He tried to clear his head, but the feeling of Emma’s body against his was enough to lose his mind. Killian refused to find release in her bathroom. He wasn’t sure how much longer his body was going to handle the pent up tension. They had only arrived Saturday night, Christmas was Wednesday, and he needed to survive until after Ruth’s big Christmas party Friday evening.

When he finally regained his composure, Killian finished his shower and shut the water off. Just before he could reach for the towel, the door opened, and Killian slid the curtain back to hide from whoever had entered.

“Hello? Killian?” It was Emma, thank god, he thought.

“Aye, I was taking a shower.”

“Oh, shit, sorry! I didn’t hear the water and was confused about where you went.”

Killian poked his head out from behind the curtain. Emma was still in the bathroom, despite his current state of undress. “I just finished up, I’ll be out in a moment. I can make you some hot chocolate if you want, love?”

“I, uh...no...I’m good. I’ll, shit, I’ll just let you get dressed in peace. See you downstairs!”

Emma ran into the wall, and Killian chuckled until he realized why she was so discombobulated. He had apparently revealed more of himself than he thought, luckily his most private part was covered, but not much of anything else was.

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As the next two days went on, Killian and Emma continued to blur the lines, neither one shied away from affection in front of others, but they were also not afraid to remain close when they were alone. After the third night, Emma said she didn’t mind waking up in Killian’s arms. It wasn’t the most romantic phrasing, but Killian took it in stride. Hearing Emma admit that she was enjoying being close to him made him feel as though he wasn’t the only one who felt that connection between them.

Before they fell asleep on Christmas Eve, Killian heard Emma murmuring something to herself. He couldn’t make it out and decided it would be best not to ask her. He figured she would share whenever she was ready.

Christmas Day was overwhelming, to say the least. The house woke early, not to open gifts, but to drive to the town over and volunteer at a homeless shelter. Killian knew the family were good souls, and to see it in action reminded him that there was still goodness in the world.

After spending most of the early afternoon at the shelter, the group returned home and opened their gifts. Emma and Killian had given David and Mary Margaret some items off their baby registry that they hadn’t been gifted at the baby shower. Killian had gotten them an extra gift, much to Emma’s surprise, of a little pirate stuffed toy. At the looks of confusion over the small pirate, Killian explained how back home, everyone would gift a new baby a doll. He told the couple that an old wives’ tale said that the dolls were protect the child, and while people found it silly, David and Margaret seemed to appreciate the sentiment.

David and Mary Margaret had gotten Emma an Easy Bake Oven and a cookbook for dummies, everyone thought it was hysterical, even Emma. And since the couple did not know Killian well, they went off the basic knowledge that he was a baker and got him an apron that said: “This is my pretend I can bake apron.”

While everyone scattered to make cookies, Emma and Killian stayed by the tree.

“Oh, before I forget, I got you something, Killian.”

“Emma...you didn’t have to get me anything.”

She rolled her eyes at his protests, “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.” She handed him the small box wrapped perfectly neat with a bow on top. Killian was surprised to find a Christmas ornament shaped like the hook Captain hook would wear inside of it. “I remember you saying how much you loved that story and that he was your favorite.” Killian looked at the hook. He was in awe of the thoughtfulness of Emma’s gift. He didn’t know when she’d had time to find such a gift; as he’d only told her that story during their car ride to Storybrooke.

Emma sat there waiting for his response, he could see her fidgeting in anticipation. Without a second thought, Killian placed the gift back in the box and leaned forward for a kiss.

It was soft and sweet. Her lips felt just as he’d always imagined they would when pressed against his own. He pulled back, much too soon in his opinion, but Killian remembered where they were and why they were there. Emma still seemed to be in shock, but it only lasted for a moment and then she was leaning back in for another kiss. This time, Killian placed his hand on the back of her head, gently holding onto her golden locks. The kiss deepened slightly and was only stopped by some obnoxious coughing obviously coming from David.

The spell was broken, but Killian swore at that moment nothing had ever felt so right. The two got up and joined the others back in the kitchen to help with the cookies.

Killian was placed in charge as he was a baker by trade. The group followed his directions but decided to make it more interesting by doing a decoration competition, where Ruth would be the judge.

In the end, everyone presented their plates to Ruth. David had attempted to create a dog, like the one that was at the shelter he worked at, but it more so looked like a blob. Mary Margaret had decorated hers to be in the shape of a onesie for a baby. Killian had to admit he was rather impressed with her natural skill. Emma merely threw on every sprinkle and candy she could get her hands on. It was a mess, and Ruth was a bit concerned about the taste, but let it slide since it was Emma. Killian’s creation was the most realistic of the bunch. He designed his cookie to look like a mug filled with hot chocolate. But the design inside of the cup is what grabbed everyone’s attention. It was a swan.

Emma recognized it instantly, Killian had made a similar creation back in Boston. She looked up at him and found that he was blushing while scratching behind his ear. It was a nervous tick Emma recognized instantly. Killian won the design off, and by doing so was able to choose their dinner, Chinese food.

For the rest of the night, Killian was surprised to find Emma nearly glued to his side, it was not unwelcomed, and Killian decided to make the most of this gift.

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As the week progressed, Killian knew that at the end of all this madness, he was going to sit Emma down and explain his intentions. He loved her. It was that simple. He wanted to live a life where Emma was not just a part of it, but the star of it all. He had grown accustomed to waking up with her hair in his mouth and his arms wrapped around her. He loved how she was so thoughtful and kind to others. He had known for a while she was someone special, but this trip put in perspective that she was the most special person in his life, and he would do anything for her to see that.

Still, Killian was nervous that she only saw him as a friend. It terrified him that at the end of this, there was a possibility she could walk away without a second thought. He tried to keep those doubts buried, as there was no need to stress over something he couldn’t control. But that was easier said than done.

Tonight, was the town’s Christmas party, although gala was perhaps the more appropriate word. Everyone was there to help set up for the event. Killian was pleased when Emma introduced him to some of her high school friends. He found her group to be a mishmash of personalities and yet, they all fit perfectly together. There was Elsa, who was probably personality-wise the closest to Emma. Jasmine, who had also transferred in late like Emma, and then there was Ruby. Ruby was loud and her mind seemed to live in the gutter. Killian knew that if given a chance, they’d probably be great friends too.

At one point, David asked for Killian’s assistance on a task that clearly needed one person. Which suggested that the other man had an ulterior motive in asking for help.

“So, Killian, I think it’s time you and I have a little talk. What exactly are your intentions with my sister?”

Killian knew it was coming, but he was still caught a bit off guard at how abrasive David was being. He thought he had grown on the man throughout the week, but David’s stance demanded an answer from him. “My intentions are to make her happy, by whatever means necessary. I don’t need to tell you that she’s been through a lot. Her trusts means the world to me. Her heart is precious, and I intend to care for it as if it were my own. Your sister is the most important person in my life, and I wish to stay around for as long as she lets me.”

David’s features were neutral throughout Killian’s little speech, and then finally, he let a small smile slip. “Welcome to the family then, Killian.”

Killian offered him a smile of his own. He was thankful that David finally seemed to trust him with his sister’s heart. The two men spent the rest of the day helping one another, laughing, and finally being at ease.

Killian was on his way to grab some chairs from the closest when he once again walked in a conversation not meant for his ears.

“Spill. Now.”

“Ruby, I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“How about the truth, Emma Marie Swan! No texts, no calls, not so much a word. And then you show up here with Killian? Emma, I know you’re reserved but you would’ve told me if you were dating someone. Shit, you’ve told me about one-nightstands before! What’s the deal with you and Killian?”

Emma sighed in defeat, “We’re not really dating. It’s all pretend.”

“Emma, are you serious?”

Killian didn’t hear her reply, he assumed she nodded her head.

“Yeah, okay? It was all for pretend. He just offered out of pity, I think. He’s my barista from back home, and he overheard me telling Ruth I was bringing a guy home. And now? Ha! Everything has gone to hell...He’s just a fake date.”

Killian had heard enough. His heart felt as though someone had reached into his chest and crushed it. He walked away, not daring to listen to any more of how she actually saw him. Just some guy. Some fake date that’s gone too far. Killian stormed out of the building and went for a walk to clear his head.

Emma watched as he left but unfortunately, Ruby still had her corned. “So?”

“So what, Rubes?”

“Are your feelings for him fake as well? Cause honey, I can tell you his most definitely are not.”

Emma knew that deep down, Killian was no longer acting. And somewhere along the line, she had stopped too. Ruby seemed to take her silence as her answer, smirking at her friend as she walked away.

“Oh, and Emma? I would tell him sooner rather than later the truth because otherwise, you’ll be under that mistletoe alone.” Ruby knew when to drop the mic and walk away, which always impressed Emma. She just never liked being on the other end of those moments.

Emma tried to find Killian, but he seemed to have disappeared from the building. When she went home to change for the party, he kept his distance and never stayed in the same room with her for more than a moment. It didn’t take her long to realize something must have been bothering him, but she chalked it up to him feeling overwhelmed with his current situation.

Ruth stayed at the venue and changed there, so the two couples decided to ride together. Mary Margaret was wearing an elegant white long dress, and David was dressed in a navy-blue suit. They looked like royalty together.

Emma had decided on a black dress that was laced with beautiful patterns and hugged every curve. Killian was in awe of her beauty but tried to hide his emotions. He had decided during his walk, that it would be best for him not to think of Emma as anything more than a friend.

“You clean up well, Mr. Jones.” Killian had trimmed his scruff and wore a black suit, coordinating perfectly with Emma.

“Thank you, Swan. You look lovely as well. Shall we go then?” No one else seemed to notice that Killian was off except for Emma. In recent days, he’d been calling her love, darling, and most recently mo ghra. Emma still hadn’t looked up what it meant, she knew his mother was from Ireland and had assumed it was an Irish term of endearment.

The entire car ride there Killian didn’t so much look at Emma. He couldn’t, he was weak and would not be able to stop himself from falling more in love with her every second that passed. He needed to be strong and realize this facade of a relationship would be over the moment they returned to Boston.

As they entered the building, Killian spotted the mistletoe that had been hung above everywhere. He knew that had not been the original plan. Damn, now he would have to avoid walking through a doorway with her.

The party continued without any incidents. Emma had asked to dance with her on a number of different occasions, but he always found an excuse to avoid it. He felt terrible. He could see she was upset by his rejection, but he figured it was for the best. They’d nearly been caught under the mistletoe four times now, and it was starting to feel like Emma was deliberately trying to catch him.

As the night wore on and couples began to take their leave, the DJ announced it was time for the last song, and invited everyone onto the dancefloor. Killian saw Emma standing off to the side. She looked deflated and he couldn’t stand seeing her that way. Without care for his heart, he stood and offered Emma his hand.

There it was again. That hope had returned to her eyes once more.

As they began to dance to an old Christmas song Killian wrapped his arms around Emma’s waist, and her own came up to settle over his shoulders so her hands could play with his hair, like she had done for most of the trip.

“Killian, I just want to thank you. If you hadn’t offered-”

“It was the right thing to do, love.”

“Why did you do it? Why did you offer to come with me?”

Killian felt his resolve breaking, he wanted so desperately to say it was because he loved her, but he bit his tongue. “All I know, Emma, was that you deserved to have a special Christmas. One filled with precious memories, not concerns regarding your dating life. And I, uh, I couldn’t imagine you going home with anyone else. The thought of that was unsettling.”

“You didn’t want me to go home with someone else?”

“Truth be told, love when I heard you on the phone and you mentioned you were with another, my heart sank. I thought I had lost my chance.”

The two of them danced in silence, as Killian prayed that he hadn’t crossed a line.

“I know you heard me make my wish, you know?”

Killian gave her an odd look, confused by what she meant.

“On Christmas Eve. I know you weren’t asleep.”

“Oh, that? I was confused by what you were saying. It’d been a long day and I thought you were mumbling something in your sleep.”

“No, um...it’s a silly thing I’ve done since I was a kid. Christmas Eve, before I fall asleep, I make a wish. The first year I did it, I wished for a home; two months later, Ruth found me. It’s silly and usually nothing happens, but-”

“It’s charming, Swan. We all could use a little hope every now and again.” The irony wasn’t lost on Killian at that moment. He hoped so desperately that Emma would see him as more than her fake date.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I wished for?”

“Isn’t that bad luck, love? I wouldn’t want your wish not coming true because of me.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” she whispered, but Killian still caught it over the music.

“What did you wish for, mo ghra?”

Emma smiled brightly. During the night, she’d looked up what that phrase meant. “Love. I wished for the man I love to love me back.”

“Emma?” Killian stopped dancing. He stood still and prayed he’d heard her correctly. “Are you...do you...please say it. Please tell me I’m not dreaming.”

Emma stepped further into his space and held his gaze.

“I love you, Killian Jones.”

Killian kissed her as though his life depended on it. And at that moment, felt like it did.

“I love you, Emma Swan. More than you’ll ever know.”

The two barely made it home before they could express their love in a physical way. They didn’t tell anyone that it was fake at the beginning, until the night before their wedding. Emma finally confessed to her family when Ruby inadvertently mentioned it. David had a field day with the news, but Mary Margaret was amazed at their acting. Ruth simply told them that they had never really been faking it. They were merely hiding the truth from each other.

She wasn’t wrong.

#captain swan #cs #emma swan #killian jones #csss19 #my gift #captain swan ff #cs ff #david nolan #mary margaret blanchard #ruby #BED SHARING #FAKE DATING #until it isn't ;)

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writethehousedown · 5 years

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Bottled Up Feelings, Chapter Two (Cheryl/Blu) - Zyan

a/n: chapter two is here! this time, we’re seeing things from blu’s perspective. The POV will change with each chapter :) again, thanks to Frey for beta-ing. You can find me over at @chachkisalpaca ~

Chapter Two: Playing Cupid

Being a genie wasn’t the easiest job out there, nor was it as amazing as Disney had made it seem in Aladdin. Blu would know - she’d been one for quite a long time now.

She wasn’t really sure how she ended up being a genie, though; like most things in her life, it just happened. She had very few memories of her life as a human, the main one being that she was from somewhere in Ireland and that her name wasn’t actually Blu, but she couldn’t remember it, so she’d given herself a new one.

When she wasn’t granting wishes, she usually hung out with genies from all around the world. Humans would be surprised to know the lamps were actually portals to their realm, where they lived in peace, and language barriers didn’t exist.

It was a normal day for Blu, she was having lunch with some of her friends, telling them about this couple that acquired her newest lamp, but they hadn’t summoned her yet, which she found really weird, but it wasn’t as if she was complaining.

“It’s been so long since anyone summoned me, I don’t think I can go back to dealing with humans,” she commented, taking a bite of her sandwich.

“Oh, I totally get you,” Dearis replied, “Last time I was out of my lamp a wish I granted got me suspended. How was I supposed to know they’d added wishing for a baby to the Don’t List? It literally happened while I was out!” She complained, folding her arms.

“Well, at least y’all have the opportunity to be found. My lamp’s been lost since the Titanic drowned, and I can’t reclaim a change until two more years. I’m tired of training new genies,” Scarlet added with a scoff.

Blu was about to reply when she disappeared from the table and transported to her home, the distinctive signal that someone had summoned her. How convenient. She looked at the portal and sighed as she crossed it, praying this time she wouldn’t have to grant any wishes that could harm her owner or herself.

The portal made her fall on a table, landing on her butt. She coughed a little when she tried to breathe and inhaled smoke instead.

“Shit, I forgot this was part of the deal,” she complained, trying to dissipate the smoke.

Once it cleared out, she looked around to face her new client, only to find, possibly, one of the prettiest women she’d seen in her very long life.

“Who are you?” She asked, clearly afraid. Blu hopped off the table and offered her a smile.

“My name’s Blu without an E, and I’m the genie of the lamp. I’m here to grant you three wishes,” she introduced herself and the woman blinked repeteadly.

“I think that tea Vinegar gave me had something on it, ‘cause I must be hallucinating,” she replied, stretching an arm with the intention of reaching for her. Blu stood where she was without moving an inch. The woman poked her arm, and that was enough to make her look absolutely terrified within a second. “Oh my God, you’re real, aren’t you?”

Blu snorted - she hadn’t gotten that reaction in years; majority of people screamed in happiness, jumped all over the place, or said their first wish right away, without thinking on it much.

“I mean, I will disappear once you run out of wishes, but for now, I’m very much real.” She shrugged, there was an awkward silence for a few moments.

“I can’t think of anything to wish for right now,” she confessed, scratching the back of her neck. “Maybe just eating dinner without another stranger arriving un-invited to my home.”

“Hey! You invited me the moment you bought my lamp, so, really, you set yourself up for that,” Blu pointed out, wandering off to the living room, the blonde coming right behind her.

“That makes sense, I guess? No. Nothing about this makes sense,” she said, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. “Please, don’t break anything while I have dinner; I don’t wanna go back to Vinegar’s shop and end up buying yet another genie lamp or something.”

“Fair enough, we can use anything to hide in, to be honest,” Blu commented while she looked at the woman’s pictures. She stumbled across a frame with a photo of her wearing a graduation robe that read “Cheryl”. She read it out loud and she poked her head from the kitchen. “You have a lovely name.”

Cheryl’s cheeks got a slight rosy tone. She gave a small smile and mouthed a ‘thank you.’.

About an hour had passed since Blu had appeared in Cheryl’s home, and she hadn’t wished for anything yet. It was weird, but then again - she could be thinking about what to wish for. Every other decade Blu would get someone like her - someone that thought well on their wishes. After all, three wasn’t nearly as enough to wish for everything they wanted.

Cheryl was taking a shower after having explained Blu how to use the remote of the TV, only for her to deadpan, “I was already an adult when these were invented, I know how to use a remote.” Cheryl had cocked a sceptical brow and left in silence, though Blu was pretty sure she heard her say something along the lines of 'Okay, boomer’.

She was watching a weird show called The Bachelor, when Cheryl sat next to her, wearing pyjamas, and trying to untangle her wet hair.

“Let me see if I understand correctly,” she said, while still battling with her hair. “I can wish for anything, without any conditions?”

“Well, there are some rules, like - you can’t wish for someone’s death, nor to have a baby, you can’t wish for someone to love you, huge amounts of money, or winning a competition unfairly…” Blu listed and Cheryl listened carefully to each word she spoke. “I think that’s basically it — unless The Council is redacting new laws as we speak, it has happened before.”

Cheryl’s interest seemed to spark when she heard the latter, but didn’t ask about it.

“So, exceptions aside, I can wish anything without any consequences?” She asked again and Blu nodded. “I wish some of the mothers of my junior students would stop acting as if they’re on fucking Dance Moms — like, goddamn Nancy, why can’t you understand that if your child didn’t get the main role was because someone is better than them?” Cheryl complained, making Blu laugh loudly.

Well, she certainly wasn’t expecting that.

“Okay, um, you should definitely word that better if you want Nancy to stop being such a pain in the arse,” she suggested making Cheryl laugh.

“Oh, God, no. Even if I want that, that’s not my wish. Can you imagine? It’d be such a waste; no amount of magic can change Nancy, she’s just the worst,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Let me think of what I actually want and then I’ll come back to you.”

Blu pursed her lips and knitted her brows together in a frown.

“You do realize that I have to follow you around until you make your final wish, right?” Cheryl’s eyes widened in fear.

“Oh no, I can’t have you over at the studio, I’m already incredibly busy with the Valentine’s Day show!” She rubbed her eyelids, feeling tired and in need of a good sleep. “Ugh, listen, it’s been a long day and I have no energy left to try to understand you and your genie quirks. I’ll bring you a blanket and some pillows, and tomorrow we’ll sort out that following me around thing. All right?”

Blu wanted to tell her that there wasn’t any need for the pillows and blanket, she could just go back to the lamp and sleep there, but Cheryl was out of the room before she could open her mouth.

She sighed. Cheryl seemed to be one of the strangest clients she ever had the pleasure to have, but at least she was a charming woman.

“Miss Cheryl, who is her?” Cheryl gave the kids a nervous smile and Blu was already having the time of her life.

After waking up and nearly having another heart attack because she forgot for a moment Blu was sleeping on the couch, Cheryl had made breakfast for them and asked every single question that had to be asked.

Was it really necessary for Blu to accompany her throughout the day? Yes, it was a strict rule made to avoid anything bad happening to their clients; countless times there had been a genie stuck in the human world because their human had unexpectedly died before running out of wishes. It was to be safe.

Did Blu know anything about ballet? No, she didn’t. But what was magic for?

So there she was, at Cheryl’s studio, wearing one of Cheryl’s ballet attires, ready to help her out with today’s class. The moment she noticed the kids wouldn’t stop staring at her hair, Blu knew this was going to be the funniest thing she’d done in a while.

“Kids, this is Miss Blu, she’s going to help me prepare all of you for the Valentine’s Day show. Be good to her,” she said, and immediately all the kids surrounded Blu, saying hi and asking why she had orange hair. “Oh Lord, I’m already regretting this,” she whispered.

On Blu’s side, she was over the moon with all the attention she was getting from the kids; she had always loved them, thinking they were the purest thing in the world.

“Alright, that’s enough, give Miss Blu some space. We’re gonna start in five minutes. Get ready, please,” Cheryl announced, the kids obeyed a bit reluctantly, but soon scattered around. “I’d say they’re like this ‘cause you’re new, but they’re like this every day. You get used to it at some point.” She shrugged, looking at them with a smile.

“Oh, don’t worry, I actually don’t mind. I love kids, I think they’re adorable.” Cheryl turned to see her with the same pretty smile she’d been giving the kids.

“Good, now let’s see if your magic can get the boys to line up and be en pointe when they get their cue.”

The class passed by in the blink of an eye; the kids absolutely adored Blu, laughing at all of her witty comments and obeying her quite easily. To say Cheryl was impressed was an understatement - she was completely blown away by the fact that even her feistiest student behaved well this time.

Perhaps Cheryl could wish her kids behaved that well on the daily; it would be like a dream come true.

The students were entertained by Blu’s funny stories as Cheryl talked with their parents about the show, the cost of the costumes, and whatnot.

“Miss Blu, how did you meet Miss Cheryl?” One of the kids asked, Blu chewed the inside of her cheek.

“That’s a good question,” she said, thinking of a somewhat believable story. “I was looking for a job, she needed help, and we just agreed to help each other out. We’re basically living together now.” All of the kids gave a collective gasp, though Blu didn’t know why.

“Are you Miss Cheryl’s girlfriend? My mommy told me only couples are allowed to live together,” a little girl piped up and Blu froze.

“Goddamn, Nancy,” she thought.

“No, we’re not girlfriends exactly—”

“You’re wives?” Another one asked, followed by a gasp. Blu’s cheeks got as red as a tomato.

“No!” She exclaimed, the kids around snickering. “We’re neither wives nor girlfriends, we’re just friends. That’s all.”

The kids were about to go on with their cheesy questions, when they heard Miss Cheryl calling for several of them and they finally left Blu alone. She sighed in relief, never in all her years as a serious genie she’d let a bunch of kids get to her her like that.

“Hey, you okay over there? Your cheeks are really red, is it possible you have a fever?” Cheryl asked, coming closer. “Let me see.” She placed a hand over Blu’s forehead. Blu thought her hands were as soft as they looked. “You’re hot.”

“Thank you,” she replied without missing a beat. Cheryl rolled her eyes, withdrawing her hand. “I don’t have fever, that’s not possible. It’s just that those students of yours were asking me some weird questions,” she explained, an amused smile spread across Cheryl’s face.

“What have they done now?” She asked between giggles. Blu was about to tell her that her students might think they’re dating now, when a girl tugged on Cheryl’s skirt to catch her attention.

“Miss Cheryl, my aunt’s here.” She pointed at the entrance and Blu could tell something changed in Cheryl’s expression upon seeing the girl’s aunt.

“Of course, love, stay here with Miss Blu while I talk to her,” she said, leaving shortly after.

Blu looked at the women for a moment and she could tell there was tension of all kinds between them.

“You got nice hair, Miss Blu,” the girl complimented, Blu looked back at her with a smile.

“Aw, thank you, love! Your hair is really pretty too,” she said, “What’s your name, honey?”

“Lily West.”

Blu chatted with Lily for a bit, learning in the process that she was seven years old, had been doing ballet since she was five, and she liked Miss Cheryl so much she wished she was her auntie too.

“I’ve asked my auntie Vivienne if she wouldn’t like to go on a date with Miss Cheryl so she can be my aunt too, but she said it’s not that simple. Do you know why it’s not simple, Miss Blu?” Blu looked over at the pair. She was ninety nine per cent sure they hadn’t just “had a date.”

“Sometimes people just don’t have the time to date someone. You can’t force your aunt to date Miss Cheryl if she doesn’t want to.” She shrugged. Lily seemed to think about it for a moment, until she ultimately sighed overdramatically in defeat.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Lily! C’mere, love, we’re going home,” Lily’s aunt called, and the little girl immediately said goodbye to Blu with a smile, saying she’d see her the next class.

Blu was probably leaving by the end of the weekend back to her lamp, but of course she couldn’t say that out loud.

“So, what’s the deal between you and Lily’s aunt?” Blu inquired, once they were walking back to Cheryl’s apartment.

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Blu as if she’d just offended her mother.

“Nothing worth remembering,” she simply said, resuming with her walk. Blu cocked a brow.

“Was she that bad in bed?” Cheryl almost snapped her neck with the speed she turned to see Blu.

“Fuck you, Blu,” she replied with her cheeks getting red. Blu let out a loud laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, you can vent to me, I won’t judge, I’ve seen it all.” And it was true; aside from being a genie, sometimes she served as a therapist for her heartbroken clients.

Cheryl bit her bottom lip, unsure if she should tell her or not. In the end, she gave in with a sigh and proceeded to tell her the story of her relationship with Vivienne.

For starters, it wasn’t even a relationship. They just hooked up once, and later it turned out to be that Cheryl was Vivienne niece’s ballet teacher, making it a little awkward when she went to pick up Lily for the first time since they slept together.

After that, they just kept bumping into each other wherever they went, their interactions awkward until Vivienne got tired of it and brought Cheryl home again. And again, and again, and again. They kept hooking up, and at some point Cheryl caught feelings.

But Vivienne clearly did not. She’d made that very clear when on New Year’s Day Cheryl had asked if she wanted to go on a date, like a real date, after roughly six months of sleeping around. Vivienne said she’d think about it, and she had yet to give Cheryl an answer.

“… And that’s how I kicked off the year by losing my dignity,” she concluded, causing Blu to whistle in amazement.

“Honestly, your life sounds like a soap opera, or a bad cliché novel written by a teenager. Whichever you prefer, but it’s bad.” Blu shrugged, making Cheryl laugh softly.

“Yeah, I know, my friends have already told me. Vinegar once said to me 'Your favourite song is New Rules, then why can’t you apply it to your life?'” She mocked, imitating her friend’s voice. Blu had no clue what New Rules was, but she laughed either way.

“It’s a shame I can’t make people fall in love, I think you’d benefit from that,” Blu commented, but Cheryl wrinkled her nose.

“I could, but I don’t think I’d want it. I want someone to love me for me, not because of a magic trick a genie pulled on them,” she admitted, and Blu thought it made sense; she wouldn’t want that either.

Suddenly, an idea hit Blu. Well, more like last night she’d seen a movie close to what Cheryl was going through and the way the protagonist had solved her problems was genius.

“But, you know, there’s nothing written about helping your clients with their love lives,” she suggested, but Cheryl didn’t look one bit excited about it.

“Blu, I appreciate that, but I’m a twentyeight going on twenty nine years old lady, I’m past the age of wanting that kinda rom-com nonsense.” Cheryl rolled her eyes, but Blu didn’t lose her optimism.

“Well, but it’s not as if my help counts as a wish, and you still have time to think on what you want in the meantime.”

Cheryl narrowed her eyes, thinking about Blu’s words. She was too old for this nonsense, but then again - she had nothing to lose; she’d already lost what was left of her dignity on New Year’s Day.

She massaged her temples before agreeing, knowing she’d very much regret this in the near future.

“It’s been a long time since I played Cupid, this is gonna be so much fun!” She exclaimed, linking arms with Cheryl as they changed their destination.

“Lord, please have mercy.”

#rpdr fanfiction #blu hydrangea/cheryl hole #blu hydrangea #cheryl hole #the vivienne #zyan #bottled up feelings #lesbian au #genie au #slow burn #be mine 2020 #day 2: cupid #submission

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shurisneakers · 6 years

Text

espresso [6]

Summary: In which your best friend’s brother begins to set you up on dates when you mention that you haven’t been in a relationship in years, but things don’t go as expected.

Warning: swearing, near panic attacks, angst (?)

A/N: this is my entry for the exuberant @odinhson‘s writing challenge thank you to @samingtonwilson for beta-ing this for me

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous part- Part 5 || Espresso Masterlist

Becca: binch

Becca: if i don’t get my nourishment i will Wilt and Die

Becca: if i get out of this bed rn i will literally Cry

Becca: pls get me a coffee kind sir,,, i will be gr8ful

You: um

You: i’ll get it later ok lov u

Becca: wtf why

You: im going to meet fucky at the library

You: *bucky

Becca: youre going to meet my brother again?

You: yes he said he was studying there anyway so I could go meet him there

You: why

Becca: nothing it’s just

You: it’s just?

Becca: nvm it’s nothing go see that smelly bitch biscuit

Becca: but get me the drugs when u come back

_____________

The library was fairly populated for seven in the morning. And, though everyone looked like they could use at least a week’s worth of sleep, they trudged on.

Walking through the aisles, you let your fingers run over the spines of every book, relishing in the feel of their old leather under your touch. It didn’t take log before you found Bucky in the classics section, his back leaning against one of the bookshelves as he scanned the ones in front of him.

“Looking for something specific?” you asked quietly, making him snap his head towards you. He gave you a tired smile before reverting to his original state.

“The Catcher in the Rye. I wanted to borrow it again,” he sounded distant, like his mind was preoccupied.

“Again? You’ve read it more than once?”

“Three times,” he answered, eyes lighting up as he reached forward and grabbed an old, worn out book with a tearing paper cover. His fingers dusted it gently before he opened to the last page, his eyes skimming over the words.

“It’s your favourite book?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s my favourite book, to be honest.” He flipped it, examining the cover from back to front. “Just the most memorable one. It sorta stuck with me throughout.”

“Why?” you asked curiously, watching as he flipped through the pages, seemingly searching for something within the lines.

“Don’t ask, it’s just gonna come off as pretentious as shit,” he chuckled, shking his head bemusedly, but you could detect a hint of something else behind his words. Bucky loved writing. He loved words. This book obviously meant a lot to him.

“I don’t know who hurt you Bucky Barnes, but I’d sure as fuck want to know why you love that book so much.” You heard a hush on the other side of the bookshelf, making you peep through the shelves only to catch the disapproving glare of the librarian who apparently caught you using unparliamentarily language.

“No one’s hurt me, it’s just-“ he paused to scratch the back of his neck awkwardly, letting his hand linger there. “I didn’t think anybody would care.”

“Oh.” You nudged his foot with yours, making him look at you in surprise. “Well, I care, so go ahead.”

He eyes never left yours and you could see a faint blush spread across his cheeks. Cute ass motherfucker.

Wait-

“Um, I guess it’s kinda because– the thing is– see, I–“ his mouth was moving at a speed much swifter than his brain, you could see it. It was like he had so much to say, almost too much. You gave him an encouraging smile as he took a deep breath to calm himself down before beginning again.

“I’ve read it three times. Every single time it means something different to me, you know? It’s like the words are familiar but everything’s changed,” he tried to convey what he was thinking, but it was clearly something hard to talk about because Bucky rarely ever ran out of words.

“‘Don’t ever tell anyone anything, if you do you start missing everybody.’,” he recited from memory finally showing you the page he stopped on. You shuffled closer to him, leaning on his shoulder to get a better look at the book in his hand. “It’s really hard for me to let others in. Everything becomes too intimate and when they decide to pack up and leave because they can’t handle my shit, it just—it hurts. It’s one of my favorite quotes.”

“It’s beautiful,” you said softly, as he looked at you for a few seconds in silence, not making an attempt to say anything.

“Right, so-“ he cleared his throat, pulling away to put the book back where it belonged. “His name’s Loki. He’s slightly difficult at first, but all he needs is just a little love and attention and he’s good to go.”

“Are we talking about a succulent or a person?” You remained where you were, feeling strangely lightheaded. Bucky glanced at the big clock overhead before returning to you.

“You’ll see.” He winked, shifting from one foot to another. “Now go! I have an hour to spend with calculus and you are going to be late for your first class.”

“You got a shift at the coffee shop today? I could come see you after,” you asked, facing him while walking backwards, your feet moving automatically.

“Not tonight, fam. I’m busy,” he said, looking down just for a second.

“Whatcha up to, barista boy? You got a hot date?” you teased him lightly, shoving your fists into your pockets, delaying your exit.

“I do, actually,” he fired back, making you freeze in your tracks.

“You’re going on a date?” you asked incredulously, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“Yeah. Met an old friend of mine last week and we’re going out tonight.” He shrugged, giving you a half smile.

“Oh shits.” Well, that was new. It had been ages since Bucky had gone out with someone. “Use protection, ya nasty. Don’t want any mini versions of you running around.”

“Yeah, totally. We’re gonna go grab something to eat and fuck behind the church in my pickup truck.” He rolled his eyes, laughing to himself as you snorted.

“You’ve always been a huge part of the Jesus fandom,” you called out, grimacing when you heard the librarian hiss a ‘Quiet!’ at you again.

“Have fun, James. I’ll catch you later.” You shoved your hands further into your pockets, turning around and jogging out before he could get another word in.

_____________

You didn’t expect the goth version of Sabrina the Teenage Witch at the entrance of your building that evening, sporting a look of disdain with a hint of boredom, gracefully covered up with a smile. He was dressed to the nines in all black, which matched his dark hair and starkly contrasted his fair, almost too pale skin.

“You’re Y/N, I presume?” you could hear the remnants of an accent that wasn’t common to your area. He sounded tired but it looked like he was making an effort, so you weren’t completely put off.

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “Loki, right?”

“That’s me. Did James tell you where we’re going tonight?”

“Bucky doesn’t take the effort to tell me anything useful, so I’m pretty uninformed.” You followed him as he walked towards the gate of the compound, his fingers toying with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“That’s weird because I swear he asked me for everything ranging from my birth certificate to my social security number. He wouldn’t even give me your dorm address without it,” he said drily, his smile actually making him look really nice.

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, so there’s that carnival or a fair or something that’s come up. I figured we could go check it out.” He gestured to his car.

“Sounds fun.” You offered him a helpful smile, accepting his invitation without much hesitation. Maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed.

_____________

The whole fair was illuminated with lights from the different stalls and you could smell the calories in the air as kids ran around with cotton candy and popcorn and funnel cakes. The ratting of the roller coaster tracks and peals of laughter subconsciously made your heart lift and a grin settled on your face.

“What do you want to do first?” you asked loudly, trying to speak over the crowd.

“I don’t know. It’s so noisy. I wish everyone would just shut up.” He scrunched up his nose in disdain, leaving you to stare at him.

“How about grabbing something to eat first? I’m starving,” you suggested, earning a nod from him as you both made your way down to where most of the food stalls were.

Churros, funnel cake, caramel apples, popcorn and just about everything deep fried was put on display and it smelled pretty fucking great.

“D’you want to try out the hypertension or diabetes on a stick?” you laughed, eyeing everything separately.

“Uh—“ he paused, flinching. “I think I’m good.”

“Not even cotton candy?”

“Definitely not.” He shook his head, eyebrows crinkled in disgust.

“Well, okay, man.” You shrugged, not letting his preferences stop you from going ahead and buying the first thing that caught your eye and had your mouth watering.

He followed you silently through the entire process, only passing an occasional comment on how greasy it was or how unhealthy it was. You took it as a personal challenge to count how many times he nearly gagged.

“Rides or stalls?” You could already predict the kind of night you were in for and at this point you were too tired to not have fun with it.

“Rides, I suppose. We’re too old for the stalls.” He clicked his tongue, putting his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans, staring disapprovingly at you.

“Oh, you are so right. Papa forbade me from playing games lest I fall victim to pride and immaturity. So pleased that throwing balls into holes is age restricted.” You threw some more popcorn into your mouth, feeling his stare burn into your face as you looked at him without any emotion.

“Didn’t you grow out of them after you turned, I don’t know, fifteen? How old are you?”

“You’re absolutely correct. We should hit the rides soon. I may not last fifteen minutes more. I’m practically decomposing as we speak.” You grinned at him making your way to the roller coaster, leaving him to match your pace.

“Roller coasters?” He called after you, rushing to catch up.

“Yes. Do you not like them?”

If this somehow greasier Tommy Wiseau said anything worse, you swore you literally would tear-

“I just think they’re too jumpy. And erratic. And noisy.”

You spun around wildly to face him, mouth dropping open. “What exactly did you expect from a fair, Lucky?”

“Loki.”

“Gesundheit. Have you ever been to a fair before or-“

You were just about to launch into a large rant when someone’s grip on your shoulder cut you off.

“Mario? What are you doing here?” The all-too-familiar voice made you instantly calm down as your best friend’s brother, your lord and savior, stepped near one of the most annoying people you could have met.

Which would be met with a more enthusiastic response had it not been for the presence of a girl with the most curly red hair accompanying him. She had her arm around his waist whilst his was secured around her shoulders and you immediately felt your words die down in your throat.

“Ah, James. We were just on our date.” He narrowed his eyes at you and you rolled yours at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, man. I thought you were taking her to that restaurant down the road?” he questioned as the girl with him sent you a smile. Of course she’d have dimples.

“Thor told me this would better fit her,” Loki replied wearily.

“Wait a minute- you know Thor?”

“Know him?” Loki scoffed. “He’s my brother.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Given, we’re adopted siblings but I have to put up with his nonsense regardless.”

“Oh my fucking God, you’re the bitchy drama goth brother Thor talks about.”

“Bitchy drama goth— you’re lucky you got set up with me and not our sister.”

“I guess this date went super well?” Bucky piped up before you both clawed each other’s throats out.

“Simply wonderful.”

“Great.” He smiled awkwardly, before seemingly remembering who he had with him. “Oh shits, yeah—this is Dolores. Dot. Doll. I don’t know-“

“Dot is fine.” She smiled again, extending her hand in a shake. She had a flower tucked into her ear, matching the colour of her long skirt. Of course she did.

“This is Y/N, my sister’s best friend and that’s Loki,” Bucky introduced live-action Merida to you, as she gracefully replied with a small nod.

“You guys done?” Dot asked, switching her gaze between Loki and you.

“Yup, just finished. Loki was about to drop me off at my place. How about you?” You ignored your date altogether, instead focusing on how relaxed Bucky looked, none of his usual creases to be seen on his face. You liked it.

“I think we’ll hang around for a bit more. What do you say?” She looked up at him and Bucky nodded, a soft smile taking over his face.

“Sounds good to me. Text me when you get home, okay?” he reminded you, suddenly meeting your gaze. Your eyebrows furrowed at the intensity with which he was looking at you, but you gave him a thumbs up, agreeing.

“See ya tomorrow, Mario. Get home safe, please?” He waved one more time, as did Dolores, before they both made their way into the crowd, but not before Bucky threw you one more glance over his shoulder.

“Are you this hostile with every person your friends date or only James?” Loki sniggered from besides you, earning a sharp glare.

“One more word from you Severus and I will buy the oiliest piece of funnel cake and shove it down your throat.

But his words didn’t go over your head. You knew exactly what he was talking about and apparently it was so glaringly obvious that even others could see it.

Yikes.

Part 7

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #college!bucky #college!au #college!bucky x reader #kumis5kchallenge

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xmanicpanicx · 5 years

Text

DO NOT use these types of dialogue in your writing

Too-Realistic Dialogue

This is the type of dialogue that includes every “um,” “ah,” “like,” etc. that you hear from people in real life. Don’t include those “crutch words” unless you want to portray that someone is particularly nervous or lost for words. We say “um” and “uh” all the time, even when we know what we want to say, even when we’re not nervous, just because they’ll buy us a moment of extra time if we briefly get distracted or shift our train of thought. Also, talking like that is just habit. But we barely notice it in real-life conversations, so the crutch words are not important and therefore not necessary in most dialogue. Also, don’t include any other everyday phrase or sentence if it’s not important to the story. If you make your audience read something unimportant, they’ll get bored. How do you determine if a bit of dialogue is important? Ask yourself the following: Does it show or matter to my characters’ relationship? Does it show where they stand with one another? Does it help to build or deteriorate their relationship in any way? If the answer is no, then chances are, the dialogue isn’t necessary. Let’s take the example of small talk. If you write perfectly friendly small talk between two characters, that won’t be interesting. If your two characters are close (or will be by the end of the story), they have much better things to talk about than the weather. However, if the small talk occurs between characters who are not on the best terms, the small talk can make the awkwardness between them palpable for the reader. But when in doubt, veer away from small talk.

Narration dialogue

Signs of narration dialogue: a long-ass paragraph of dialogue, too-poetic speech, and info-dumping. Long paragraphs, poetic style, and info-dumps are all things that are typically found in narration, and they do not sound natural coming out of someone’s mouth.

Let’s address the first one. Not every long paragraph of dialogue is problematic. There are angry rants and anecdotes that come in this form. However, people don’t usually talk in uninterrupted paragraphs unless they’re a speaker at a TED Talk. If a character goes on talking for too long without exchanging any words with another character, then it becomes a monologue. Make sure there’s a give-and-take between the characters.

The second one: Too-poetic speech. Words usually don’t sound elegant coming out of someone’s mouth unless that person is reading a prepared speech. That’s not to say that you can’t have a smooth, eloquent speaker as a character, but there are certain things that no one does in speech. For example, no one would say out loud, “I looked over my shoulder as I ran, checking to see if he was still pursuing me.” People don’t recount events that way. That is, they don’t use a full sentence (“I looked over my shoulder as I ran”) and immediately follow it up with a phrase that begins with an -ing verb (“checking to see if he was still pursuing me”). The first part of the sentence is sort of okay as a piece of dialogue — it’s the “checking” part that really ruins it and makes it sound like something a first-person narrator would say. It’s okay when a narrator says it, though, because it brings the reader into the mind and situation of the character more viscerally and does sound prettier — more poetic.

The last one: info-dumping. Info-dumps are actually a guilty pleasure of mine as a reader. Don’t know why. But I’m definitely in the minority. It can be tempting to fall back on a character’s speech as a way of informing your reader about the world they’re in. However, just because a character is saying it, doesn’t make it any more interesting than it would be as part of the narration — the only difference is the quotation marks. A better way to impart information is to have one character asking a question, another answering, and then the first character asking follow-up questions. Also, having characters perform actions as they converse — fidgeting, cleaning, rummaging around looking for something, etc. — to break up the dialogue is a good idea. This will feel more natural, and it’s a good way to impart information about the characters, since actions often speak louder than words. That’s the key to keeping dialogue from reading like narration — being natural. Ask yourself, “Would anyone actually say this? Would they say it in this way?” and more specifically “Would my character actually say this, and how would they say it?” Essay Dialogue

Have you ever read a character explaining something in a way that was so logical, so coherent, not missing a single piece of information, that it sounded like a paragraph you could scoop out of an academic paper? This is, of course, essay dialogue, and it sounds robotic. When a reader comes across something like this, they remember that they are reading writing rather than being sucked into another world. Famous novelist and screenwriter Elmore Leonard wisely said, “If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.” You can save this for the editing stage — it’s always best to get your point down on the page before you make it sound great — but don’t leave the essay dialogue in your finished work. Figure out which emotion (or emotions) the character is feeling at the time, and convey that through their words and body language as they speak. Also, I have a fondness for big words just as much as the next reader/writer, but remember, most people don’t speak using really big words if they can avoid it, so reflect that in your dialogue.

Well, that’s all for now. Are there any types of dialogue you read that you can’t stand?

#writing #creative writing #Writing tips #dialogue

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fuzzballsheltiepants · 6 years

Text

Imagine Me and Mew

All For the Game/The Foxhole Court. Follow up to Name Games and That Cocky F*%!ing Smile. Neil greatly enjoyed getting coffee with his new friend, Andrew, until his coworkers inform him he went on a date. An existential crisis, bad googling decisions, and contemplation of his sexuality ensue. Read on AO3 if you prefer.

Neil slid into his seat and sighed at the enormous lineup of material to translate that had materialized in his inbox over the weekend. Jean glanced up at him with concern but didn’t comment. Neil sighed again, louder, when Sara popped around the corner.

“How are my favorite linguists?” she practically shouted. Both Neil and Jean cringed.

“Fine,” they chorused.

Sara leaned against Neil’s desk. “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?”

Neil shrugged. “Um, King got a urinary tract infection, so I spent the morning at the vet’s. Then I had coffee with someone before I went to trivia night.”

“Which, damn, Neil, you’re terrible at trivia,” Jeremy said, appearing on the other side of Jean. He always did that, appearing out of thin air; Neil wondered if he secretly had trapdoors in the floor or something. Or an invisibility cloak like that kid in that weird movie about wizards that Nicky had bullied him into watching.

“No shit. I told you that. I keep telling you that.”

“Wait, back up, you had coffee with someone?” Sara practically squealed. “Anyone we know?”

Mr. Rheman’s timely arrival provided Neil with a reprieve until lunch, but he knew the whole crew would descend on him for details. They did that every time he spoke two words to someone, even half the people he was interpreting for. It made no sense to him, why they cared about every simple interaction.

The only reprieve from the tedious work—Mandarin was still his weakest written language and of course Jean was useless with it—was the text he received from Andrew. free 9 tonight or 6 tomorrow

He texted back either fine and shoved his phone back in his jacket. Half the time he’d forget to eat dinner until ten or eleven at night anyway, only thinking about it when King started screaming at him for her own food.

It felt like he had barely made a dent in the queue when Jean tapped him on the shoulder for lunch. He blinked away the fuzziness of four hours looking at his computer screen and checked his phone. Andrew had sent him a restaurant name for them to meet at that night. At least he might have a little time to look up more lawyer jokes.

He had almost forgotten Sara’s shark-like interest until he approached the table in the lunch room and saw her looking at him with wide, sharp eyes. Stifling his desire to pick another table, he dropped into the chair across from her. Jean and Jeremy sat on either side of him. Surrounded.

“So, tell us all about yesterday,” Sara said, twirling her fork in her noodles.

“I told you already, I took King to the vet. I got coffee. Well, actually, I got a smoothie, then went to trivia night.”

“You said you met someone for coffee.”

“Yeah?” Neil didn’t understand the emphasis she put on met.

“Who?”

Neil still didn’t get why she cared, nor why Jeremy and even Jean were so attentive. He took a bite of his sandwich to buy himself time to puzzle it out but was unsuccessful. “Nobody you know, I met him at the vet and we decided to get coffee.”

“Ah!” Sara said, pressing her hand to her heart. “Did you hear that, Jeremy? Our baby boy is growing up.”

Jeremy grinned. “Good for you, Neil.”

“I still don’t understand that nickname,” Neil said, looking between them. “And I drink coffee every day, I don’t see why it’s such a big deal. Jesus, it wasn’t even coffee.”

Jean huffed, a tiny sound, and Neil shifted his glare to him. Usually Jean was the one he could count on to dismiss the idiocy of the other two, but even he looked amused. “It’s not the coffee, you fool,” he said in French, leaving Neil even more confused.

“We’re just happy you went out on a date,” Jeremy said, taking pity on him.

“It wasn’t a date,” Neil said, “it was a smoothie.”

Sara and Jeremy exchanged looks. “Uh, did he know that it wasn’t a date?” Jeremy asked.

“Of course! Why the hell would he think it was a date? We just sat around drinking and mocking each other for an hour.”

“Oh, god,” Sara said, putting her head in her hands. “Oh, god, oh, god, that poor guy.”

Neil just looked between them with a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn’t know why Andrew would have thought it was a date; why he would even have been interested in such a thing with someone with Neil’s fucked up face, but… I doubt they’re looking at your scars. “Shit.” Shitshitshitshitshit.

Jeremy immediately picked up on his distress. “Maybe he didn’t. Walk us through it, how did it happen? You said you met at the vet?”

“Yeah,” Neil said, drawing out the syllable. “Um, there was a misunderstanding so this asshole vet assistant pulled us both into a room and while we were waiting we talked a little. Then the assistant made a snarky comment about King’s name and I, well…”

“You did what you do,” Sara supplied.

“Right. Anyway, he joined in on my side. So then we decided to get coffee.”

“How, exactly?” Neil looked at Jeremy blankly. “Like, while you were waiting, you made some comment about needing coffee and he was like, yeah, me too?”

“I gave him my number,” Neil said, feeling the heat rise in his face. “He texted me after, inviting me for a drink. I told him I don’t drink, so he suggested coffee.”

Sara laughed while Jeremy patted him awkwardly on the shoulder. “It’ll be fine.” Jeremy’s voice indicated it would not be fine. “Do you like him?”

“I don’t know,” Neil said, hearing his own agitation and drawing a slow breath to quiet it. “I mean, he’s funny, and he’s smart.” He shrugged.

“But is he hot?” Sara asked.

Neil had absolutely no idea how one even decided that. Were there some sort of set guidelines that pushed someone into the “hot” category? He wondered if there was a website that explained this sort of stuff. He’d have to google it when he got home.

“Alvarez! Knox!” Rheman barked through the lunch room door, coming to his rescue for the second time that day. “Stop torturing the new guy!”

“I’m not that new,” Neil said, but everybody ignored him.

“Why are you singling us out?” Sara asked. “Jean’s here too!”

“Because Moreau is the only mature one out of the lot of you. Get back to work!”

“Hear that?” Jean said, looking haughty as only a true Frenchman can. “I’m the mature one.”

“Fuck off,” Sara said, setting the rest of them laughing as they threw their trash away and headed back to their desks. “And you owe me ten bucks, Frenchie!” Jean flipped her off. Neil wondered what the bet had been.

After work he headed to the gym. Nicky was there, of course, greeting everyone and keeping an eye out for who needed spotters or help with the equipment. His whole face lit up when he saw Neil and he jogged over. “Hey! How’s my favorite new cat parent?”

Neil managed to keep from rolling his eyes. Nicky constantly asked after King, which he supposed made sense since he was responsible for foisting her—and her gender-bending name—upon him in the first place. “I’m fine. King has a urinary tract infection, though.”

“Oh, poor kitty.”

“She’s feeling better. I took her to the vet.”

Nicky ruffled his hair. He always tended to do that, even when it was all sweaty and gross. “Of course you did, I knew you’d take good care of her.”

Neil got on the treadmill and started running, keeping an easy pace for the first mile then upping the speed. It was one of the few guaranteed ways to clear his head, but after eight miles at a pretty good pace he still didn’t know what to do about that night. And though he was pretty sure Nicky would be all too happy to help, he also knew that absolutely, without a doubt, he would rather trust strangers on the internet than Nicky with this type of question.

Managing to escape the gym without further hair-ruffling or questions, he went home and sat with King on his lap and his laptop open on the table. Staring at the open browser screen, he tapped his fingers on his thigh for a moment until the cat decided he was trying to play and smacked his hand.

He typed What makes a guy hot into the search engine. Over ninety million results. He clicked on a few, and only ended up more confused. Pictures of shirtless men holding kittens, comments about “quiet confidence” and strange things like “rolled up sleeves” and “being able to cook.” Then there was the stuff that Neil didn’t even know what to do with, like “being gentle in bed” and “getting a boner in Target.”

Neil was not cut out for this, that much was clear.

He checked his phone, half-hoping Andrew would bail on him but no such luck. He fed King and left, giving himself plenty of time to get lost because the one-way streets in this city followed no obvious logic. The end result was he sat in his car for twenty minutes listening to Tagalog podcasts before he saw Andrew walking towards the entrance. Breathing in for a count of four, out for a count of four, he joined him.

“No sweatpants today I see,” Andrew greeted him.

Neil looked down at his suit pants. He had changed back into his work suit after showering at the gym and hadn’t thought to change again, just left his tie and jacket on the back of his couch. He looked back at Andrew, lost.

“Come on,” Andrew said with laughter in his voice, pushing through the door.

It was kind of like a burger joint, but nicer. They ended up seated in a booth in the back corner of the restaurant, Andrew claiming the bench against the wall so Neil’s back was to the rest of the room. At least they were right next to an emergency exit, but he was barely able to restrain the cringe when the waitress appeared out of nowhere.

Her smile faltered for a second when she noticed Neil’s scars but she hitched it back on quickly. Somehow Neil was not surprised that Andrew ordered a milkshake. An alcoholic milkshake, but still.

Neil looked furtively at Andrew, still trying to figure out how one could determine “hotness”. Andrew had a cat; it wasn’t a kitten, but maybe that counted? His sleeves weren’t rolled up, but the waitress’s had been and Neil definitely didn’t think it was anything special. They were just arms. He didn’t know if Andrew could cook, and there was no way he was going to ask about the boner thing…

The easy rapport of the day before was gone, and Neil didn’t know how to find it. Andrew didn’t seem interested in making conversation for the sake of hearing himself talk, and Neil didn’t know what to say. How did you ask someone if you were on a date?

Andrew was watching him with what could have either been concern or irritation. Neil flinched involuntarily; he hadn’t even realized his leg was doing the bouncing thing again, vibrating the whole table. He saw Andrew’s eyes darken as a result. “Sorry. I, um.” There was no good way to explain this, either his current nerves or the fact that he had been beaten as a child for that habit. “Sorry.”

“Do you not want to be here?” Andrew asked.

It was entirely possible that in his twenty five years on the planet Neil had never met someone quite as blunt as this man, yet he still felt like he was missing pages of subtext. “No, I do. I just…” He rubbed his face, another nervous habit. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Andrew’s mouth twitched as if he were suppressing a smile. “You astonish me.”

“Oh, go to hell,” Neil said, feeling the whispers of a smile himself.

“It’s entirely possible I’m already there. What exactly is the problem here?”

It suddenly occurred to Neil that he had absolutely no good way out of this. If Andrew wasn’t gay, he could end up with a royally pissed, very short but very muscle-y man across the table from him. If he was, Neil was likely about to hurt his feelings by being completely unsure if they were dating or if he wanted them to be. And if he ran, well, that would just be embarrassing. Plus he might never stop, and he was pretty sure his FBI handlers would have something to say about that.

He settled for the truth. “My coworkers informed me that our trip to the cafe yesterday could be considered a date.”

Andrew’s expression did not change from mild amusement. “Oh? And what did they say about this?” He gestured to the restaurant.

“I didn’t tell them.”

“Why not?” Still no change in expression but there was a tinge of venom in his tone.

“Because they were already way too excited and I didn’t want to hear it when I don’t even know if you’re gay. Fuck, I don’t even know if I’m gay.” He suddenly remembered Sara crowing that Jean owed her money. “Oh, shit.”

“What new revelations are coming forth?” Andrew asked.

“That’s what they were betting on.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Andrew’s spiked milkshake and Neil’s iced tea. Neil gulped half of it.

“Who was betting on what?” Andrew asked once the waitress was well out of earshot.

“Sara and Jean. After they informed me you probably thought yesterday was a date, Sara said Jean owed her ten bucks. I bet they were betting on whether or not I was gay.”

“Your coworkers need help. Or a hobby that does not involve betting on the lives of humans.” Andrew waited for a moment, then went on. “This is only a date if you want it to be one. You said yesterday you were trying to make friends, I thought that was pretty clear. But even if it wasn’t, that doesn’t matter. If it’s not a yes, it’s a no.”

Neil thought about that. He wondered if it was a general dating rule, or an Andrew rule. “That makes it a lot less complicated.”

Andrew did that thing where he arched one eyebrow but didn’t comment. Neil wondered what it was like to have one’s eyebrows trained to speak for you. Maybe it was a lawyer thing. After all, it could sway a jury but would be impossible for the court reporter to transcribe. The prosecution raised an eyebrow, conveying the stupidity of the defense. He pushed the whole thing away as ludicrous.

Neil somehow managed to get his brain online again and asked about the seminar. A conventional enough question, but Andrew answered him anyway, going on at some length about the horrors of bad lecturers and asshole classmates. He managed to convey a great deal about the individuals with very little change in facial expression, just by subtle shifts of his voice and the angle of his mouth. It was oddly engaging.

They didn’t leave until the restaurant practically kicked them out, vacuuming aggressively in their vicinity. He wished he hadn’t already used his best lawyer jokes; he wasn’t able to think of a good one when they said good-bye. King gave him an enthusiastic greeting, wrapping around his legs as if he hadn’t already fed her, and he picked her up and nestled his face in her fur. He got ready for bed with her perched on his shoulder, her little body vibrating with the force of her purr.

He set the alarm on his phone, then hovered over Andrew’s latest text, debating. Finally, he typed quickly and hit send.

How do lawyers sleep?

It took a few minutes before the phone chimed.

First I lie on one side then I lie on the other. Talk tomorrow idiot

Tomorrow. He had never gone to bed looking forward to the next day; it was just another thing to get through, to survive. But in the dim light from the streets coming through the blinds, he fell asleep with a faint smile on his lips.

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #andreil #jeremy knox #jean moreau #alvarez #nicky hemmick #king fluffkins #law student andrew #my writing #tfc #the foxhole court

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yanderel0v3r · 4 years

Text

I NEED TO WRITE THIS FANFIC! BUT HERE SOME IDEAS I HAD, ENJOY!

LIKE—Ok... what about a BillyxSteve but Parenthood? YES, PLEASE!

-Where Billy is Bi and Steve gay only for him

-Billy, who IMMEDIATELY fell IN LOVE with Steve since the first time they met, keeps acting like a 5th grader with a crush

-Steve being confused by WHY does he feel WEIRD when he’s around Billy since he the first day they met

- Billy wishes to tell Steve what he feels but he doesn’t want his father to know he likes boys, otherwise Neil (homophobic) would beat him really badly or WORST

-The two of them being ENEMIES and acting like they hate each other but they actually want to be friends but they don’t know how

- Billy calling Steve “Princess” and LOVING the fact he gets nervous for that

- Steve acting like he hates it when Billy calls him like a girl (won’t admit he KINDA likes it)

-Billy sometimes visiting AHOY JUST to tease Steve and embarrass him

-Steve feeling SUPER angry/cringy/happy to see Billy and turning red when he calls him “Princess”

-Robin KNOWS what going on and this is why she ships them and teases/ tries to convince Steve that Billy likes him and also asks him if he does too (even if she knows the answer)

- Steve PANICKING and acting like he doesn’t understand what she’s talking about and running away to avoid the topic

-Steve never visiting the pool where Billy works because he would COMPLETLY stare at him

-The two of them getting invited to a party and at first IGNORING each other and FAKING to be interested to some random girl but actually wondering what the other is doing and getting kinda JELOUS

- Billy getting SO drunk that he KISSES Steve (who doesn’t refuse or kiss back) and when he realizes what he has done they start arguing and in the end they fight (and they actually missed that) but Steve get messed up

- Steve is shocked and tells everything to Robin who just fangirls over them

- The kids wanting to revenge for Steve and Max hating Billy for being such an asshole

- Billy felling guilty so he goes to say sorry to Steve how doesn’t believe what he’s earring, then they pretend it was all because of alcohol and say they’re cool

- Billy visits Steve more often and not only they unexpectedly become FRIENDS but also Billy decides to trust Steve and tell him about his father’s abuse while Steve revels he always feels alone since his parents are NEVER home

-Steve calling Billy “Pretty Boy”

-Steve introduces Billy to his “children” who are so scared of him but then they start liking him and Max is happy to spend nice time with her step-brother (who start to be nice with everyone)

-Billy driving to Steve to be comforted by him when his father beats him, Steve appreciating company and letting him stay the night when Billy doesn’t want to go back home

-Billy eventually confessing his feelings for Steve BUT OH NO Steve rejects him because his not sure of what he feels BUT OOOH NOOO Billy takes it wrong and feels like Steve is making fun on him for liking him so he warns him he would be dead if he told anyone

-Billy feeling patetic/heartbroken and being a piece of sh*t again with Max or anyone and scaring the kids that are Just like WTF

- Steve realizing he’s an idiot and asking Robin for help and she’s like I KNEW IT so after she facepalms she tells him to tell Billy the truth

-OH WELL Billy was so fucking pissed that he decided to move on (to try at least) so when he meets The Reader and make up

-Steve seeing them together at the pool so he feels like he’s a TOTAL IDIOT again then Billy’s eyes met his and Steve feels so intimidated by him that he runs away realizing he has ruined everything

-Times pass, Billy and Reader are dating, being an actual couple while Steve has been trough depression, smoking marijuana again. A LOT.

-Robin and the kids worried for Steve since he has isolated himself and stopped working but they don’t know why (but Robin does and keeps it secret)

-Steve finally deciding to go out bit meets Reader so he tells her to tell Billy he’s sorry since he’s too scared for he’s reaction but he doesn’t tell her anything else

-Reader asks Billy what happened between them but he stays quiet and becomes cold

- UM she can tell he doesn’t really love her but he can absolutely trust her so he confesses her that he loves Steve but at the same time he love you too but he can’t stop thinking about him

-SHE SUPPORTS HIM saying there’s nothing bad about being in love with him

-Billy visits Steve and he is schocked by how sick he looks, and Steve is so happy to see him that he hugs him tight surprising Billy.

-They talk, and talk and they are almost at the point to confess each other’s feelings but NOPE thing gets complicated because OoOPs Readers is pregnant and Billy and Steve are like OH SHIT

- BUT HEY Billy get super happy and promises Raeders that he won’t never leave them, he would love to be a dad even if he’s still young BUT THERE’S A PROBLEM in fact Reader doesn’t won’t to be mother instead she wants to be an indipendent woman with a great carrier and babies are just not in her to do list.

-ANYWAY Reader continues pregnancy (she lives alone because her parents are always at work too) so keeping the baby secret it’s not a problem, Billy is with her during her pregnancy issues and keeps wondering what the baby will look like and he’s always the one to talk about the baby not Reader because she actually things about collage stuff

-Reader tells Billy that she would probably leave Hawkins and Billy says he’s ok if he will have to keep the a baby on his own but that is not what she meens in fact Reader tells him that he doesn’t have to fake love for her when he clearly still loves Steve but he doesn’t want to be regected again (even if its clear to everyone but Billy that Steve’s likes him)

- Steve is kinda jelous and sad, but obviously happy for them ANYWAY Reader can tell how in love he is with Billy so she encourages him to tell Billy the fu**ing truth SO HE RUNS AND FINALLY THEY KISS AND EVERYTHING

- They become a couple and they tell Reader, Robin, Max, the kids (when Steve’s tells them what is up with him and Billy) and Susan too

-Unfortunately Neil becomes aware of what happened and before he can hurt Billy badly Steve fight with Neil who is arrested by Hopper

- Steve, Billy and Reader deciding names together, hearing baby’s heart beat during visit, toching Raeder’s belly when baby kids and preparing baby’s stuff at Steve’s house ( since he talked to his parentes about how he feels about being literally abandoned for so long and being in love with Steve and they are both really sorry and happy for him and promise him to change, so it is)

- When baby’s is born Billy get SUPER EMOTINAL and Readers asks Steve if he want to hold her and they look like a perfect married couple

- The three stay together at Steve and while he has become like a full mommy, Reader prepares her stuff to leave the town (she can’t tell her parents because they are not open minded like her) she will obviously visit the, and be part of their family but she need to go to college.

-Fluff moment whit Billy and Steve being in love, Susan giving advices to them about parenthood, Max with Robin and the kids having fun with their daughter, Billy and Steve always playing with her, Steve cleaning the kitchen after baby made a mess since she wouldn’t eat the food Billy was trying to feed her, Billy putting her to sleep and singing songs and Steve thinking is so cute to watch, being anxious about what would happen if they live her alone for 2 seconds, staying both up late because she won’t sleep and giving each other turns to go see what’s happening and why she’s crying in the middle of the night, both actually super tired but truly happy

THANK YOU

I HAVE TO WRITE ABOUT THIS

BUT LIKE —OMG PLEASE

IF SOMEONE WRITES SOMETHING ABOUT THIS PLS TAG ME OR SOMETHING

I NEED IT

HOPE YOU LIKE IT ❤️

(Sorry for bad grammar, English is not my first language)

#billyhargrovexreader #xreader #dacre montgomery #billyhargrove #steveharrington #harringrove #strangerthings #fanfic #fanfiction

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hoonface · 7 years

Text

Tag Games?

Thank you for tagging me!! @s-lay-ing I ACTUALLY REALLY LOVE YOUR BLOG AKDHSKASJDH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I’m not sure which ones I was supposed to do? So I just did all of them XD I would like to taaag ( Rules: Answer the questions and tag amazing followers you would like to get to know better!) IS THAT THE RULE IM NOT SURE IM SO CLUELESS PLEASE FORGIVE ME :| anyywaaay @wonuthewhale @healinghoshi i see carmen is already tagged so no jisoosmeoli then @jisoominghao @jeongjarsofhannie and @zeungkwan !! Optional of course, and anyone else who’d like to do this is absolutely welcomed!!

Name: I prefer to be called Camilla online for personal reasons 😃 I hope you all understand!

Nicknames: not much tbh?

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Height: I actually don’t know? Around 155-157? Short af =-=

Orientation: …pardon? As in introduction? WAIT IM GONNA GOOGLE THIS: it says something but I don’t get it um so it says basic attitudes? I like to not badmouth about anyone? I’m sorry I can’t do this one TT-TT

Ethnicity: I’m from Hong Kong 😃

Favorite Fruit: …I actually don’t know um I like cherry tomatoes cut in half with cooking salt on them? I’m strange yes.

Favorite Season: Autumn

Favorite Book: this question is asking too much of me I LOVE READING MY FAVOURITE SERIES WOULD EITHER BE THE LAND OF STORIES, OR THE HUNGER GAMES 1, CAUSE TWO AND THREE WERE CONFUSING AF.

Favorite Flower: Jeonghan’s sunflower: Minghao XD

Favorite Scent: food? In general?

Favorite Colour: I like soft orange kind of?

Favorite Animal: Your domestic house pets, but I am open to new animals 😃

Favorite Beverage: …soda? Until the carbon goes up your nose and it hurts like hell :DD

Average Sleep Hours: Depends if I’m in exam period or not? Usually around 7-4??

Favorite Fictional Character: …I um. Don’t know? Sorry :|

Number of blankets you sleep with: this is so random what XD around one or two. Depends on season.

Dream Trip: The Maldives and Italy, after that I’m up for everything

Blog Created: Ooooh… September 2016?

Hogwarts House: I haven’t Harry Pottered don’t kill me pls

Time Right Now: 7 something pm

Lucky Number: 5?

Last Thing I Googled: define “orientation” as reference to ^^^^^

Favorite Bands/groups: I don’t really have a favourite group outside Seventeen, cause before kpop I listened to a variety? BUT HELL YEAH SEVENTEEN!

Favorite Solo Artist: I’m not sure heheh…

Song stuck in my head: From Now On, Kim Min Seung, THAT CUTE CUTE CUTE OST FROM WEIGHTLIFTING FAIRY

Last movie watched: in the cinemas? SAO’s Ordinal Scale.

Last TV show watched: let’s just say weightlifting fairy for this

What are you wearing right now: pyjamas?

Dream job: I don’t really have my mind set yet, but my mother suggested an editor? If I’m good enough at English that is XD

Following: um let me check…361 as of today!

Posts: 2169 holy crap

Do you get asks regularly: no TT-TT please feel free to make my day and drop in!

Do you have any other blogs: nope XD I came to Tumblr to get to know Seventeen better WHEN I CRASHED AND BURNED INTO DIAMOND LIFE AFTER MANSAE MV OK I GOT SO ALSDLASDKJ

What I Post About: I don’t post that much, but when I do its usually kpop? And occasionally personal, if you see a full stop and the tags will be me ranting or talking to myself/

Why you chose your url: I suck at puns so yeah. It used to be seventeenismyhealing and I miss that url…

When Did My Blog Reach it’s Peak: HOW DO I CHECK THIS? I am sorry I don’t know how to check this…

Second game: AM I ALLOWED TO DO THIS?

rules: bold the statements that apply to you!

appearance:

i am 5′7″ or taller

i wear glasses

i have at least one piercing

i have blonde hair

i have brown eyes

i have short hair

my abs are at least somewhat defined

i have or have had braces

there is something i would change about the way i look

personality:

my hogwarts house is: gryffindor hufflepuff ravenclaw slytherin

i am an introvert

i like meeting new people

people tell me that i’m funny

helping others with their problems is a big priority for me

i enjoy physical challenges (depends of the challenge obvi)

i enjoy mental challenges

i’m playfully rude with people i know well

i started saying something ironically and now i can’t stop saying it

there is something i would change about my personality

ability:

i can sing well

i can play an instrument

i can do over 30 pushups without stopping

i’m a fast runner

i can draw well

i have a good memory I am the human dory. I don’t remember the stuff I’m meant to remember but I remember all the things I don’t need to help.

i’m good at doing math in my head

i can hold my breath underwater for over a minute

i have beaten at least 2 people in arm wrestling

i know how to cook at least 3 meals from scratch

i know how to throw a proper punch

hobbies:

i enjoy playing sports

i’m on a sports team at my school or somewhere else

i’m in an orchestra or choir at my school or somewhere else

i have learned a new song in the past week

i work out at least once a week

i’ve gone for runs at least once a week in the warmer months

i have drawn something in the past month – I DREW AN EAGLE IN ART TODAY IT LOOKS BAD LOL

i enjoy writing (yet I don’t do it :p)

fandoms are my #1 passion

i do or have done martial arts

experiences:

i have had my first kiss

i have had alcohol

i have scored the winning goal in a sports game I play basketball the points add up I don’t know who scores the winning basket XD

i have watched an entire season of a tv show in one sitting in a day?

i have been at an overnight event

i have been in a taxi

i have been in the hospital or er in the past year

i have beaten a video game in one day

i have visited another country

i have been to one of my favourite band’s concerts

relationship:

i’m in a relationship

i have a celebrity crush

i have a crush on someone i know

i have been in at least 3 relationships

i have never been in a relationship

i have asked someone out or admitted my feelings to them

i get crushes easily

i have had a crush on someone for over a year

i have been in a relationship for at least a year

i have had feelings for a friend FRIENDZONEED lol jks were like best friends now

my life:

i have at least one person i consider a “best friend”

i live close to my school (I used to but I don’t go to school/uni anymore)

my parents are still together

i have at least one sibling

i live in the united states

there is snow right now where i live

i have hung out with a friend outside of school in the past month we don’t go to the same school anymoreeee

i have a smartphone

i have at least 15 cds

i share my room with someone

random shit:

i have breakdanced

i know a person named jamie

i have had a teacher with a last name that’s hard to pronounce

i have dyed my hair

i’m listening to one song on repeat right now (bruh holy shit I have monsta x’s beautiful on repeat right as we speak)

i have punched someone in the past week NOT REALLY JUST LIGHT PUNCH I THINK

i know someone who has gone to jail

i have broken a bone

i have eaten a waffle today

i know what i want to do with my life

i speak at least 2 languages fluently

i have made a new friend in the past year

#thank you for tagging me in this!!#tagged #mentions #game stuff lol #text

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hiddlesfashion · 8 years

Photo

#TodayInHiddleHistory

January 30, 2014: the March issue of Elle UK was released featuring Tom Hiddleston A God Among Men.

A video posted by The Fashion of Tom Hiddleston (@hiddlesfashion) on Jan 30, 2017 at 5:50am PST

full interview below

Tom Hiddleston: A god among men?

Hollywood A-lister, ELLE writer, YouTube sensation – Tom Hiddleston’s cult status is evident on every platform. And, as ELLE’s Annabel Brog discovers, he’s not afraid of revealing, well, everything.

When ELLE’s Editor-in-Chief Lorraine Candy was at Wimbledon last year, she rather naively tweeted afterwards: ‘I sat next to actor Tom Hiddleston and his girlfriend Jane. He’s a very funny man.’ She has never – bear in mind this is a mother of four who edits a fashion magazine, which puts her high on a certain demographic hit-list – been trolled like it. The responses veered between righteous fury that she had outed Hiddleston as being ‘With Girlfriend’, and rather bloodthirsty expressions of envy that she had, you know, talked to him.

Tom Hiddleston inspires fervour in his fans. He’s an extraordinary actor who has won universal acclaim – his roles include feckless Prince Hal in the BBC’s The Hollow Crown; sweet, doomed Captain Nicholls in Spielberg’s War Horse; and currently the blood-drenched warrior Coriolanus at the Donmar Ware- house – but it’s his performance as pallid, sociopathic god of mischief Loki in the Thor and Avengers Assemble films that catapulted him into the stratosphere. To put it in context: Hiddleston recently donated a pair of signed Converse to the Small Steps charity auction, alongside the likes of Mick Jagger and Kate Moss. His shoes sold for £4,500 (more than anyone else’s). He is very appreciative of the interest, while simultaneously being uncomfortable with the idea of fame. ‘Do I like it? It’s sort of inconsequential in a way, a weird corollary to everything else I’ve done. I cannot tell you how surprising it is. It’s like, really? REALLY? I honestly try not to think about it too much.’

We are nestled under a heater in the beer garden of a north-west London pub on a chilly December evening. Hiddleston is drinking whiskey, which is part of my cunning strategy to break him down – he has always given me the impression of being very prepared in interviews – but it doesn’t work. After five shots, he remains entirely in control.

Nonetheless, he is rather adorable: ferociously bright (he went to Eton, then Cambridge, where he got a double first), earnest ('I know. I’m sorry. I can’t help it’), obliging, and old-fashioned. Partly that’s his classical- ly handsome face, partly it’s his impeccable manners, and partly it’s the way he constructs his sentences.

Describing his favourite book, William Boyd’s Any Human Heart, for instance, he says, 'Like all life, it contains multitudes’; or, on opening up to new people, 'I fear I am initially quite private.’ When he is sure of his subject – talking about work, family, culture – he is eloquent and assertive. When he is less certain – typically on the subject of himself – his voice rises slightly in inadvertent questions: 'I’m solitary [but] I don’t think that’s a good thing, I think I’m better in company?’ Or: 'I know that there’s this thinking capacity, which is possibly not a good thing?’

Tom William Hiddleston is 33 (on 9 February, to be precise), a middle child with one sister 15 months older, and another five years younger. His childhood sounds like a simple, pleasurable place. 'I have memories of climbing trees and watching The Snowman, with David Bowie introducing it in his snowman scarf.’ He starts to laugh. 'When I actually learned who David Bowie was, I was like, “That’s the man from The Snowman”. And people were: “Never say that again. That’s Ziggy Stardust. Shut up!”’

His parents are incredibly proud of him: 'It’s taken us a while to get there. It’s one of those conversations I don’t have with them, but I just know that they are [proud]. If we [he and his mother] start talking about it, we will both collapse in a heap of tears. It’s moving to make your mother proud.’

Growing up surrounded by women has had a glorious effect on his view of them. 'I believe in the strength and intelligence and sensitivity of women. My mother, my sisters [they] are strong. My mum is a strong woman and I love her for it.’ He is also – praise the Lord for men like Hiddleston – very romantic. When asked about love and relationships, he simply says, 'Honesty is a gift – to be honest about who you are and how you feel – because it encourages intimacy, and intimacy is really where’s it at. To be known and know someone is an amazing feeling, and you don’t get there if you’re pretending to be anyone else.’

Hiddleston voices Captain Hook in Disney’s Tinker Bell And The Pirate Fairy (out this month), and has a high-impact cameo in Muppets Most Wanted. But his next lead in a film is in an homage to both strong women and love. Only Lovers Left Alive is an enchanting, funny, somnolent Jim Jarmusch project in which he plays Adam, a 500-year-old vampire rock star with suicidal leanings. 'Adam is a delicate soul,’ says Tom. Adam is, indeed, delicate, but he is also (and this is where Tom’s gift for comedy comes into play) sweet and entirely useless, a reclusive musician suffering the despair of being eternal. Think undead My Chemical Romance fan. He stars opposite Tilda Swinton, who he says is just like her giddy, optimistic character, Eve. 'She’s the most beautiful woman in the world, and it’s seemingly effortless. She’s very, very warm. Tilda and I would be laughing sometimes and Jim would come in and say [he adopts a lazy Ohio drawl]: “Taaammmm, you smile a lot, man. And Adam doesn’t smile so much.”’ He also loved the purity of the love story. 'Adam is so deeply flawed, and depressive, and melancholic. But Eve just loves it, loves his commitment to it. We were trying to make a film about acceptance. And true love is an acceptance of someone else for who they are.’

So Hiddleston is clever, eloquent, charming, sensitive and earnest. But then there’s that other side, the spontaneous and silly side, best seen on YouTube, where he has become an inadvertent sensation due to the fact that 'I don’t know what my boundaries are, I just say yes to things’.

That’s how he ended up throwing some serious shapes on Alan Carr: Chatty Man, which, for the record, was 1) not planned: 'I promise I had no idea I was going to do that’; and 2) the genuine Hiddleston disco experience: 'If you asked me to dance now, it would be the same moves. That’s my dance.’ He can also be seen sing- ing Michael Jackson’s Man In The Mirror on Korean TV, because the talk show host asked him which part of his body he had most confidence in and he said his voice. (And, yes, he was tempted to say something smutty: 'I’m English, so I’m dirty.’) His own favourite clip features him teaching the Cookie Monster a lesson in delayed gratification. ('Are you saying if me wait, me going to get cookie?’) 'I’m proud that I’ve met him.

He’s the Cookie Monster, a cultural icon. My mum loves it and my niece loves it. She’s two years old and she thinks there’s nothing illogical about Uncle Tom speak- ing to the Cookie Monster.’

So when we meet for the second time, after he comes off stage at the Donmar, I am tempted to see if the no-boundaries thing is for real. There is beer involved (the man can drink) and a line of questioning veering from the absurd to the inappropriate. Put it this way, he’s a very good sport…

Annabel Brog: Will you throw me your best insults?

Tom Hiddleston: [Laughs] Why are we doing the insult game?

AB: Just go with it, I can take it.

TH: Um. 'You utter, utter [with increasing emphasis], utter c**k’ is good.

AB: I just wondered if foul language, delivered beauti- fully, sounds less foul. Which, in fact, it does.

TH: When I get angry with myself, when I forget lines, I’ll be like, 'You absolute f **king f **k c**k b***ocks p**s f **k. You, you… f **ker’.

AB: You say that to yourself ?

TH: Yes.

AB: How do you feel afterwards?

TH: I feel better! The word f **k is enormously satisfying.

AB: OK, I am going to describe teenage Tom to you and you are going to tell me how accurate I am.

TH: [Grins] OK.

AB: I’ve realised this may be quite insulting. Please remember it’s only a game.

TH: That’s totally fine. It may well be more favourable than the truth.

AB: Teenage Tom wasn’t uncomfortable with girls, but he didn’t get to touch one for quite some time. First kiss, 16.

TH: NO! [Emphatic] First kiss 10! Yes, 10 years old, tongues and everything. [Laughs] She was a huge crush, we were in the same class, a lot of note swap- ping, and eventually it all went down in a cricket pavilion on an autumn night. It was very thrilling.

AB: I got it so wrong.

TH: I was sometimes quite alarmed by friends of mine at school who didn’t have sisters, the way they treated girls, the way they spoke about them… I was like, 'Guys, they’re not aliens, they’re human beings.’

AB: You hear stories about Eton schoolboys, and the fan girls who line the cricket pitches when they play… TH: I don’t relate to that at all. I didn’t have a serious relationship until I was about 19. I fell head over heels in love and I was with her for two years, and it was an amazing relationship. So I don’t know who those girls are, who line the cricket pitches.

AB: How would you describe yourself as a boyfriend?

TH: Very honest, I hope. God, I don’t know. I hope I’m fun, I hope I’m a good time. Sponta- neous, surprising, affectionate? I hope, kind. Dancing… a lot of dancing. I insist upon dancing. Anywhere. Anytime. The more dancing, the better.

AB: [Referring to an incident last year when Tom, on a press call with Swinton for Only Lovers Left Alive, was photographed in a revealingly tight trousers] Cannes. Trousergate. Discuss.

TH: Trousergate?

AB: Please tell me you know what I am referring to.

TH: What are you… I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about. Cannes?

AB: Oh God, really? Oh no. OK, OK, shall we move on?

TH: [Squeaky] What’s trousergate? [Clears throat] Trousergate…

AB: Maybe I should just get it up on the iPhone and show it to you.

TH: OK, get it up on the phone.

[AB types 'Tom Hiddleston Cannes’ into Google Images and hands him the phone]

TH: [Slowly] Ohhhhhh heavens…

AB: It has a Tumblr account and everything.

TH: Oh God. [Laughing but horrified] How monumentally shaming! What does one say to something like that? What do I say? Do I need to explain it? I don’t think I can.

AB: Would you like to move on from this subject?

TH: Maybe. Yes…

AB: OK.

TH: [Determined] Look, I had a very interesting experience going to Cannes. An airplane in Heathrow caught fire and they shut down the whole airport. There were no tickets on Eurostar. All the flights from Gatwick were booked. So I got in a taxi and drove to Dover. I got on the ferry at 2am, with people on the booze cruise, and students going on hockey tours, got to Calais at 5am, another taxi to Paris airport, flew to Nice, landed about 11.30am, went through customs, got in another cab and drove to straight to THAT photo call, where THAT picture was taken, having changed in the car on the way there. So I think I look all right, for someone who’s been up all night.

AB: You look great. [Long pause] It’s just a shame no one’s looking at your face.

TH: [Laughs] They’re looking at Tilda! That’s what they’re looking at.

You can’t really profile Tom Hiddleston without going there on his looks. He is, in the flesh, a deter- mined and imposing physical presence. If you have seen his Coriolanus – raging with pride and betrayal – you will know this, and on the ELLE shoot it is evident most when we film him running. Hiddleston has a fine-looking run. He may look like a matinee idol; he may speak like a 19th century poet; but watch him run and you are suddenly very aware that he is 21st century man. It would be nice, I suggest, to see him in a role that’s unquestioningly modern. 'I would really like to,’ he says. 'I’m knocking at the door, honestly.’

As expected, he is game for anything on our shoot. He hurls plastic chairs across the warehouse, he sprints down Scrubs Lane, and he scares the crap out of the whole team by leaping over the railing of a 10-foot stair- case, which would have ended his Coriolanus run rather spectacularly if it went wrong. At the end of the day, Hiddleston is hard to pin down. He tells me a story,about a spontaneous, solo trip he took to Hawaii after he flew to LA to audition for a part he didn’t get.

'I went canoeing with whales, ran around the island, climbed the volcanoes. There's this beach where all the surfers go to challenge themselves, the waves are like 30 feet high, and I was introduced to this lifeguard by some landscape gardeners I met. We were watching these kite surfers and I was in awe, frankly, of their courage and I said, "Why would you do that? It's so dangerous." And he looked at me with this amazing, generous smile and said [adopts a US accent]: "They're just trying to answer the same question we're all trying to answer, man." And I said: "What question is that?" And he said: "Is it enough?"'

So there you have it. Tom Hiddleston: big talent, big laugh, big thinker, non-planner, great dancer. In his own beautifully phrased words, he is 'just as complex and contradictory as everyone on this planet'. Or, in our rather more base words, pretty damn hot.

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junker-town · 7 years

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‘The Bachelorette’ Episode 4: This show isn’t fun anymore

In light of the racism in recent episodes and sexual assault allegations on ‘Bachelor in Paradise’, the franchise has turned sinister.

The intro of this weekly recap is usually where I say something along the lines of, “Hello, Sports Bachelor Nation!” and crack a joke about how you’re probably getting ready to pour a bottle of wine down your throat, or about how this reality show is sports, or something else that’s meant to entertain you as you read about a show that is also meant to entertain you. In fact, whose only job is to entertain you.

Tonight is not that night. For several reasons:

1) I can’t get the taste of last week’s episode, in which Lee, a racist piece of garbage, picked a fight with several black cast members.

2) The Bachelor in Paradise had to shut down filming because of alleged sexual assault between two incredibly drunk cast members, a situation which casts a very sinister shadow over the entire franchise.

Neither of those things are entertaining. They’re both dangerous. They’re both gross. They both make me feel sick to my stomach, so you’ll excuse me if I’m having trouble mustering up enthusiasm.

With that said, let's take a look at what happened last night.

DEALING WITH LEE SOME MORE

We left off with Lee baiting Eric with racially-charged statements. Lee refuses to apologize. Instead, he says:

“You’re damn right I enjoyed pissing him off. I have so much fun talking shit on these nights.”

Eric removes himself from the situation. Lee drops the “I’m not here to make friends” line, which used to be funny, and now, like so much else on this show, is not.

Then Lee interrupts Kenny while Kenny and Rachel are talking to each other. He refuses to go away, then gives Rachel a block of wood that he rudimentarily carved the word “enchanting” into using his grandfather’s pocket knife. This is not only creepy, but also means that this guy came onto the show with a switchblade and no one was like, “hey, maybe we should take this guy’s switchblade away.”

Dean, one of the white guys, says, “I think Lee’s a f[bleeeeep]ing moron,” and, “I just think he’s kind of a bitch.” It’s good to see a white dude grow a pair and call Lee out, but of course Brady, another white dude, is like, “Everyone comes form a different background and has weird quirks.”

Oh, is that what we’re calling it these days? Being racist is like, a fun little character flaw?

Meanwhile, Bryan tells Rachel that they’re in a 100% real situation that’s like a fairy tale. Sure, if by fairy tale you mean the original text of Grimm’s Brother’s stories in which they describe the bloody way Cinderella’s sisters cut off their own heels to try to squeeze into the glass slipper. And then everyone dies of the bubonic plague.

Dean says he hopes Kenny punches Lee in the face and I’m like, why don’t you just do it, dude?

ROSE CEREMONY

Rachel speaks to the camera about the pressures she feels about being a black woman on this show. She’s crying.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she says. “I get pressured from so many different ways, being in this position. I didn’t want to get into all of this tonight. I already know what people are going to say about me and judge me for the decisions that I’m making. I’m going to be the one that has to deal with that, and nobody else, and that’s a lot.”

Good work, Bachelorette producers. Way to put a smart woman who appears to be trying to take this show as seriously as anyone can in a really horrible position. Knocking it out of the goddamn park.

Rachel gives Lee a rose. Diggy goes home. I liked Diggy.

GOODYEAR BLIMP DATE, THE ONLY GOOD THING

The fact that Lee is still around makes everything extra bad, but Dean and Rachel go on a one-on-one date in the Goodyear blimp, which is a bit of brightness in an otherwise very dark moment for the franchise.

Dean is absolutely petrified of heights, not in a cute “haha I’m so scared LOL” way, but in a “oh my god I’m going to puke everywhere and maybe actually pass out” way. Rachel is a little worried. But then Dean gets himself together and drives the blimp, then he and Rachel drink champagne in the blimp, and then they make out in the blimp. Lotta blimp action. Also: I’ve always wondered what the inside of a blimp looks like, and now I know: a bus.

The Goodyear Blimp’s Twitter account proved to be the only good Bachelor-related thing we have left. It was trolling people all night as the episode aired:

When throwing shade, it helps to cast a blimp-sized shadow. (and have a giant LED screen, sure) https://t.co/2inuOHnbUK

— Goodyear Blimp (@GoodyearBlimp) June 20, 2017

Awesome people. https://t.co/CDl9MVmz3a

— Goodyear Blimp (@GoodyearBlimp) June 20, 2017

Back at the house, the guys are like, “Dean is five, six years younger than Rachel,” as though that were a problem. My dudes, I’m sorry you’re so insecure in your own fragile masculinity that you can’t imagine an older woman with a younger man.

DEAN TALKS ABOUT HIS MOM’S DEATH AND IT’S MOVING

At dinner, Rachel and Dean talk about their upbringings. Dean says he was raised very religious, and that his mom died of breast cancer when he was 15. He says that when she moved to hospice, he asked her when she’d be coming home, and she said, “never.” And then Dean says that his dad sobbed on his bed the day he told him that she passed away, while Dean just sat there, stoically, supporting his father.

I’m not not tearing up.

My tears quickly dry when Rachel and Dean go to a surprise country music concert. The singer’s name is Russell Dickerson, which is like Mad Libs for a country singer name. But everyone knows it’s not an episode of The Bachelorette unless a generic country singer gets his two minutes of glory. The producers probably go on the Facebook group called, like, Aspiring Country Singers Who Want to Sing Good and Look Good Too, and just choose a guy at random.

I can imagine the conversation. “Who should it be, fellow producers? Harrison Butterson or Flint McDustbuster?”

What is a Russell Dickerson

— Jonquilyn Hill (@jonquilynhill) June 20, 2017

PLOT TWIST: Russell Dickerson is actually a hologram of a stock art photo of a country music singer.

BOAT DATE

The group date takes place on a boat. They’re all dancing, and for some reason Peter decides to rap, and his bars are trash. He rhymes “heart” with “fart” and calls Rachel a “girl from the hood.”

Let’s go to writer Katie Barnes’ Twitter feed for a moment:

Um. Rachel's dad is a judge. She is not from "the hood" as it were. She's just black. #TheBachelorette

— Katie Barnes (@katie_barnes3) June 20, 2017

SPELLING BEE

Rachel says she wants to test the men in a cerebral way, so she’s making them compete in a spelling bee to find out how clever they are. This is terrible news, because I can’t spell for beans. If this is the measure of a human’s brain power, it’s truly astonishing that I even have a job.

All the words have to do with dating, like, polyamorous, which I couldn’t spell without spellcheck if you put a gun to my head.

Iggy sucks. He’s talking to the camera about how much he hates Josiah, and I can tell that he’s turning himself into the Dude Who Hates All The Other Dudes. Which means that he’ll be going home soon. Someone I can’t remember calls Iggy a “gossip queen,” and I’m laughing.

Josiah wins.

Josiah floats like a butterfly, spells like a bee! #TheBachelorette http://pic.twitter.com/ErVDWCbN5b

— The Bachelorette (@BacheloretteABC) June 20, 2017

NIGHT GROUP DATE WHICH IS AWFUL BECAUSE LEE IS THERE SO OF COURSE IT IS

Josiah spills a drink on his crotch. I deeply identify with him. Iggy calls Rachel sweetie. I hate Iggy. Iggy seems to have aligned himself with Lee, so Iggy can go straight to hell.

Rachel takes Lee aside and Lee says that Eric screamed at him aggressively. He calls Kenny a ballerina. He picks fights with almost every black contestant while telling the white guys at the bar that he doesn’t have a problem with them.

When Kenny tries to talk to Rachel about Lee, Rachel is like, “Why would Lee say you were aggressive if you weren’t?” And Kenny is like ... “Because Lee doesn’t tell the truth?” And Rachel doesn’t seem to totally buy it. Kenny is left sitting there on a bench with his head in his hands, and I want to punch my television screen.

“Nothing I said made a dent in how she felt about me,” Kenny says. He also says he feels like he’s living in a reality of alternative facts, which is true, and sad, and descriptive of not only the Bachelorette, but also our current cultural state.

NEXT WEEK WILL BE EVEN WORSE

Lee is a reptilian piece of trash. The producers might be, too, because they’re setting Kenny and Lee on a two-on-one date from which only one can return. Oh, and they’re getting two episodes of television out of it. Yup, that’s right: Next week we’re stuck with two evenings of this show.

Clinton Yates, of ESPN’s The Undefeated, said it best:

yeah, two night special with this particular relationship? Incredibly slimy

— Clinton Yates (@clintonyates) June 20, 2017

ENDING THIS RECAP ON “UGH” FOR THE SECOND TIME IN TWO WEEKS

In light of The Bachelor in Paradise allegations, I’ve been reading a lot of first-person accounts from producers on the franchise. They’ve all basically said that morals come second, behind explosive filmed moments, as the TV show UnREAL made so clear.

I can’t help thinking of all of that while watching the microaggressions and coded, racist language that Lee spews everywhere. These people are in a mansion they can’t leave with 24/7 surveillance — it becomes a cage. They have no cell phones or any connection to the outside world. Their environment revolves around killing time and withstanding excruciating boredom. It’s punctuated with bursts of intensity when they’re with Rachel, followed by hours of emptiness to obsess over what they just said and did, as well as what everyone else just said and did.

Producers use this pent up energy and brain spirals to build beds of tinder out of people’s emotions. Then they get contestants to rub each other the wrong way until the whole thing goes up in flames.

This is what reality shows are made from, and it’s slimy in any context. But it can be slimy in a funny way when the lighter fluid is, say, the fact that a contestant eats too much cheese, as it was during Nick’s season. It’s an entirely different ballgame to make blazing drama from racism. It’s not drama. It’s just awful; and the fact that they could’ve avoided this by not putting Lee (whose alleged racist tweets recently surfaced, meaning that the producers either didn’t check his private account, as they claim, or willfully ignored it) on the show, makes it far worse. This is not some way to further a conversation about race in America; it’s exploitative and painful.

I can’t remember what it feels like to watch this show and be amused. I forget that we’re supposed to be watching a show about dating, or something like dating. Instead, it’s become a sinister fun-house that traps viewers and contestants for two hours on a Monday night that we can never get back. And I, for one, would like to get out.

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