#best crash game cs go

[kyber-crystal]

10 things i hate about you || f.w.

summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 

words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE

warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love

a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )

add yourself to my hp taglist here!

The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.

It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 

“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”

“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 

“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”

“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 

“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”

“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 

A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 

“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”

You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.

“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”

You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”

“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 

“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”

“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 

“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”

“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”

At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.

“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”

He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 

“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 

“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”

You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”

“I was going to suggest something else.”

“And what is that?”

“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”

“So you’re suggesting that, what?”

“That we say we’re a couple.”

“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”

“Why not?” 

“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”

“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”

You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.

“Fine, but only on one condition.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 

Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”

“Dream on.”

He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”

“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”

“You’re on.”

So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 

Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.

i. the pda competition, part 1

Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 

Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 

“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”

Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 

“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 

You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”

You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 

Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 

“What was that for?” you hissed. 

There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.

“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.

“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”

Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.

“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.

ii. the pda competition, part 2

After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 

You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 

“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”

“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 

“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 

“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”

“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”

You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 

“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 

“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”

“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”

“Not for long!” 

Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.

“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”

“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”

“With me, obviously.” 

“I’d rather be anywhere else.”

“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”

“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”

“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 

“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 

Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 

When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.

“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”

Again, Fred was left speechless. 

“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”

“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”

More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 

Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx

You were so going to win. 

iii. the serenade

You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 

A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 

“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 

“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 

Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 

“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 

“What the—”

He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.

Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 

“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright

I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night

I love you, baby, trust in me when I say

Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray

Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay

And let me love you, baby, let me love you”

A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 

It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 

“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 

You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 

Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 

You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 

“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”

There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?

iv. the nightmare

Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 

Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 

After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—

“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”

You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”

“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”

“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”

“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”

“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”

His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 

Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 

You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 

“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”

You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 

“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”

“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”

Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  

“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”

“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”

“I’d like that.”

He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.

I’m here, whenever you need - F.W

v. the hospital wing run-in

“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”

“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 

“What is it this time?”

“I broke my ankle.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 

She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”

You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.

“Guys—”

“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 

“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”

The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”

They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 

“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”

Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 

“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 

Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”

“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”

“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”

“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.

“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”

“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.

“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”

“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.

“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”

“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”

“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”

“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”

“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”

“Oi! You can’t just—”

“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”

He ended up staying overnight. 

You didn’t protest at all. 

Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 

vi. the howler 

For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 

He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.

“What’d I miss?” he asked you.

“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”

A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 

“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”

Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 

With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 

“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”

A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 

“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”

“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 

“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”

“And you thought this was the best idea?”

“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”

“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”

vii. the pda competition, part ∞

As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 

You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 

Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).

“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”

“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”

“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”

“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  

“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”

“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”

“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”

viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)

It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.

“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 

You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 

“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”

“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”

“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”

“But—”

“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”

Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 

It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 

“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.

“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”

Your face burned. “What do you—”

“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”

“I…”

Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”

“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”

“Indeed, my lady.”

You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”

“I always look good, though.”

“I look better than your greasy arse.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”

Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 

When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 

“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”

“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”

“Without a shadow of a doubt.”

ix.  the thunderstorm 

The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 

“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”

You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….

It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…

A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 

As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 

“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”

“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”

“Oh—good point.”

“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 

“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”

“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 

“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”

The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”

x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 

The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 

But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 

“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.

“Not drinking?”

“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”

You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”

Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”

“What are you talking about?” 

“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 

“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 

“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 

“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”

“Do you not, really?”

“I do, but I—”

“You what?”

“I just hate him!” 

“What do you mean?”

“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”

You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”

“You…really mean that?”

You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”

“Y/N, I—”

Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 

“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”

“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 

“OW—”

“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 

“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”

Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.

Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 

A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.

Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.

“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 

“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 

“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”

“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 

“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”

“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 

“What do you mean?”

“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”

“Do what?”

“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”

“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”

“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”

“Y/N—”

“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”

“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”

“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”

Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”

And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 

You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 

And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 

“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”

“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.

“There’s no money on the line this time?”

“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”

“And what is that ‘something else?’”

“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”

xi. the promise 

—FOUR YEARS LATER—

Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 

So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 

But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 

It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 

Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 

Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 

“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 

tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 6: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (3/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 1726

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Chapter 3: ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Notes: This story was originally posted in 2014

Killian surged forward, lips crashing against hers, body pressing her to the immutable surface of her apartment door, arms binding her to him.

Good thing too.  At the touch of his lips against hers, the sensation of his tongue seeking entrance, the feel of his heart racing beneath her hand trapped between them, Emma sagged and her knees threatened to buckle altogether.

Emma opened for him, moaning his name as his tongue came to tangle with hers.  She rose to her toes, threading her fingers through his hair, seeking to bring him ever closer, they would never be close enough. 

Her apartment complex was normally a busy bustling place, but tonight, at 11:30 on Christmas Eve night, it was as empty as Gold’s black heart.  Just as well.  The way she and Killian were going at it, anyone passing by was liable to get quite the show—and definitely not one suited to children.

With a groan Killian pulled away, but Emma was having none of it.  She wasn’t done kissing him yet; not nearly.  She chased his lips with her own, giving her pirate no quarter.

“Emma,” he moaned, as he gave up all attempts at resistance and met her head on.

They’d just returned from the town Christmas party at Granny’s.  Her mom had really outdone herself with that one.  The food, laughter and eggnog flowed abundantly.  Everyone seemed to have imbibed the Christmas spirit, buoyed, no doubt by the fact that they’d gone a full month without a villain in sight. 

It seemed Killian had enjoyed his first Christmas party.  He’d particularly enjoyed the dirty Santa gift exchange, throwing himself into the spirit of the game with wild abandon.  He’d put his pirate skills to good use, stealing one after another of his neighbors’ gifts.  Emma suspected it was more for the thrill of mayor-sanctioned theft than it was for the actual gifts he’d gained.  She laughingly said as much to him as he gleefully stole a bottle of lavender-scented bath salts from under Ruby’s very nose.

“You’re really going to tell me you want girly bath salts?” she’d teased.

“And why not?” he’d asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “I happen to be well aware that you favor the scent of lavender.  It was my hope that were I to acquire these salts I might persuade you to…um…help me put them to use.”

When all was said and done, Killian had been left with a gift certificate for free dinner at Granny’s for a week.  She….well, she’d made a last minute swap for the bath salts, a fact that made Killian’s eyes light up like a kid let loose in a candy shop.

When the party broke up, Killian walked her back to her apartment door where he was currently kissing her so thoroughly she could barely remember her own name.

After long moments, Killian pulled away and then rested his forehead against hers.  “Best we slow down love,” he said breathlessly.  “Much longer, and we’re bound to start a conflagration that will consume this entire building.”

“Yeah,” she said, equally breathless.  “But what a way to go.”

He laughed and took a step back.  “I suppose it’s time I take my leave.  You’re to be at your parents’ bright and early tomorrow for Christmas morning festivities.”

Emma took hold of the lapels of Killian’s coat and gave him another quick peck.  “You mean we’re to be at my parents’ bright and early.”

He looked suddenly uncertain.  “I don’t wish to impose.  It is after all a family event.”

Emma shook her head, her heart turning over with tenderness for this man.  “When are you going to learn that you are family?  We all want you there, and I, well, I’d really miss you if you bailed on us.  Besides, if you don’t join us for Christmas morning, when am I going to get to give you my gift?”

“You bought me a gift?”  His voice was awestruck.

“Of course!  I have a feeling you’re going to like it too.”

Emma knew how much he enjoyed reading.  His cabin on the Jolly Roger had been practically covered, floor to ceiling with books.  She’d bought him as many of this realm’s pirate tales and stories as she could get her hands on.

“There’s no doubt of that, love,” he said gently.  “I have a gift for you as well, but I have been assured that Christmas is the day for gift giving.  It would be quite bad form to spoil my surprise the night before.”

“All the more reason to join us in the morning.”

His smile turned infinitely tender, and he cupped her cheek.  “I’d love to be there, Swan.  Which is, of course, why I’d best take my leave so that you can get your rest for the big day.”

Emma’s eyes flitted away from his for a moment before focusing back on him.  “Stay with me tonight?  Henry’s staying with Regina, and, well, no one should have to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Killian dragged in a ragged breath.  “I’d be honored to spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with you.

Emma unlocked her apartment, gave Killian another quick kiss and then waved him in behind her.  “Go ahead and plug in the tree; maybe see about starting a fire.  I’ll make us some cocoa.”

After their conversation in the woods, Killian and Henry had tag teamed her until she’d agreed to just about every Christmas tradition Henry could think of.  The three of them had bought and cut down a Christmas tree, decorated the thing within an inch of its life (Killian’s hook being surprisingly handy in the endeavor), hung all three of their stockings by the chimney with care, and baked and decorated what felt like enough Christmas cookies for the entire town.  When Killian learned of the tradition of sending people Christmas cards, he’d even convinced her to send the damn things out—complete with a photo of the three of them sitting before the fire, steaming mugs of cocoa in hand, the lit tree in the background.

It was cheesy as hell.

She loved it.

She finished preparing their drinks—which for her consisted of boiling water and pouring it over packets of cocoa mix—and then headed for the living room.

“Well, you’ve made good use of your time,” she said with a smile.  The tree was lit, a roaring fire crackled in the hearth, and a smug pirate sat on the rug before it, surrounded by pillows.

“I aim to please darling.” 

She sat beside him, depositing their cocoa on the end table and settling in his waiting arms.

“I do believe you’re forgetting something, love,” he said, mischief in every syllable.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Look and see for yourself.”

Emma sat up and stifled a laugh.  The idiot sat before her holding the largest sprig of mistletoe she’d ever seen.  She leaned forward and kissed him playfully.  “You’re insatiable.”

“Aye,” he said, returning the kiss with exuberance, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Without warning, it all crashed over her once again.  She’d nearly lost him.  His heart had nearly been crushed in front of her, and she’d been powerless to stop it.  The memory made her start to shake, and Emma clung to Killian so tightly he’d end up with bruises in the morning.  She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, her hand slipping beneath his shirt to rest over his heart.  She needed this; she needed the confirmation that he was still there, that his heart was still where it belonged.

“Emma, love,” he said, rubbing her back, “is something the matter?”

Emma forced herself to sit up and look him in the eye.  If nearly losing him had taught her anything, it was that every day with this man was a gift—a gift that could be snatched from her at any moment.  The fact that he might have died not knowing, not truly knowing how she felt about him was like a slap to the face.   She needed to remedy that.  Immediately.  Emma was terrified to say the words, but it was time; it was far past time.

“Killian, I…I just need you to know something.”

“Very well, Swan,” he said hesitantly, “you do know there is nothing you cannot tell me, do you not?”

“Yeah,” She took a deep breath and then plunged in.  “It’s just that…well, I don’t know how to do this but just come out and say it:  I love you.  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.  It scares the hell out of me, but, well, I just needed you to know.  Whatever happens, no matter how many evil villains try to tear us apart, I needed you to know.  I need you to…”

He leaned forward and captured her lips, effectively cutting off what was threatening to turn into babbling.  This kiss was different, soft, gentle, unhurried.  Emma reached up between them and caressed his face with gentle strokes.  This was right.  This man was it for her.  If he’d died up there in the clock tower she didn’t know how she’d ever have survived it.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he finally pulled away.  “Until the end of time, I’ll love you. With every breath I take, every beat of my heart, I love you. There’ll never be another for me but you.”

She grinned against his chest.  “Better not be.”

“No other lass stands the ghost of a chance against you.  I swear to be unfailingly true to you until I take my last breath and long, long after.”

“I know,” she said tremulously.  “And you can expect the same from me.”

He gathered her back into her arms and they sat in silence for some time.  When he spoke again, the teasing note was back in his voice.  “So, Swan, how do you propose we while away the rest of this Christmas Eve?”

She sat back and gave him a grin.  “Well, I was thinking we could resume that make out session we had going on outside…and then we could, kind of, see where that takes us.”

“That, Swan, is the best idea you’ve had all year.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

[parachuter]

H'lo!! I've recently gotten back into league, and I've started maining Jhin again, but it's been a while since I last played him.

Do you have any advice, or things I should keep in mind?

it's been a HOT MINUTE since I played jhin/ranked regularly but i've got general adc and specific jhin tips under the cut

keep in mind I'm D3 from a few seasons ago, generally playing anywhere from high Emerald to low Masters lobbies in norms nowadays so there's still a lot of room for me to learn!

A few general ADC timings ->

Tempo is HUGE in League, because in between the fighting, it's essentially a "turn-based" game. Your turns are limited by a number of things on the map, but largely by minion waves.

This is especially important to Jhin as he's an early-game bully who is likely to have control over the lane state.

Most ADCs will know what a freeze/slow push is, but won't know why or when to do this (takes experience, usually helps to look at high elo vod reviews). I can't go into everything here but here's a few key things I notice people struggle with!

"I want to recall for strong item/component": most ADCs know you want to crash wave into tower before recalling (this will reset the wave in the middle of the lane by the time you're back from shopping and you will likely make the enemy lose ~0.5-1 wave if they died/were forced to recall/are pressured under tower

Why is this timing important?

It lets you shop + have an additional action on the map. Right out of base you (and your support) have many options based on the map state. For example:

Run to dragon if JG is ready -> enemy bot will need to decide if they are willing to drop pressure in the lane to fight or come late to the fight but push the wave into tower

Support could run mid to gank while you go bot, the wave will be in a good state for you to farm safely because YOU set it up that way

You can both run bot and repeat the cycle

A mistake I tend to see is that many ADCs will greed for an extra plate and completely miss their recall timing (e.g., they stayed for an extra plate so the wave is already coming out from enemy tower by the time they recall, they are late to lane which gives the enemy a chance to get control of the wave, this could mean you lose CS, plating on your tower, a kill, an objective etc.). It's rarely worth it to stay for an extra plate unless it'll help you hit your item breakpoint or you're able to stay for 1 more wave and crash it safely.

^I also see people who want to recall but get pressured by their JG to take dragon - this will make you extremely late coming back to lane, dragon is typically best taken if you just killed a bot laner (for #s advantage), are coming straight from base, or have crashed the wave and don't need to recall yet (you give up pressure, but dragon is a good trade if you feel you can get pressure back)

If you are Jhin, you NEED to snowball to be strong otherwise you WILL NOT keep up with other crit ADCs by mid-game. You can do this through kills AND by making your opponent bleed resources.

2. "The team wants to do baron/mid-game dragon": You'll likely be switched with mid at this point, mid-lane should be pushed out before going to an objective - your minions will provide you vision of the lane and if it's NOT pushed out, you may end up trading an objective for waves/tower(s)/inhib.

^Keep timings for objectives in mind; if your team is planning to fight for a Baron, ideally you'll have shopped already if needed - even if a big bot wave is coming into tower, Baron grants kill gold and EXP on top of the buff - hopefully your top laner has TP and can clear the wave before coming to the fight (LOL).

for specific Jhin advice ->

"Do I need to leash?" in 2024 technically no JG absolutely needs a leash with the new items. Even if Jhin is a lane-bully, there are still match ups that are very difficult for him at LVL 2/3, (Lucian, Trist etc.). In this case, it's best to not leash and try to get lane pressure and minions early to hit LVL 2 first and chunk out the enemy ADC to reduce the pressure you'll be facing later on. Worst case scenario in a bad lane is if you leash but the enemy doesn't. There may even be cases where you're stronger early and don't leash if you're not great at it (e.g. Karma support) or if you feel you can cheese the enemy in their brush without losing the extended trade, but that's case by case. If your lane is stronger/neutral OR if you will not be able to out-push for LVL 2 (e.g., vs. Draven, usually), you should leash.

Manage your mana! Jhin is a caster and heavily relies on his mana for set up/damage, I commonly see players dump a lot of mana into the waves (e.g., using Q or W to last hit VERY often versus trying to CS with autos) If you're a bully like jhin/cait that wants to get push and pressure the enemy under tower, the best scenario is hitting both the enemy and the wave with your abilities (good enemy laners will position away from the wave in a poke lane, but any time you use an ability on the wave or miss an ability it gives them a timer to fight back)

I didn't snowball, now what? If you didn't snowball in early game, you're mostly utility until late which can feel quite bad (this is doubly-true if you're lethality Jhin). Continue to gather the farm that you can but be present for big fights with your utility. Use that ultimate! It's a short cooldown by mid-game and is great to help your team get picks even if you don't get the kill; don't hold it exclusively to snipe a low health enemy at the end of a fight.

Builds are adaptive! Every game is different, be flexible!

TLDR; learn wave management and tempo especially on strong early game champs, jhin needs to snowball through kills and bleeding enemy resources otherwise he's a utility bot till late game, don't go OOM dumping spells into the wave, use your ultimate for picks/poke as needed, leashing is game dependent, and adapt your build per game

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Being Ghosted (1/?)

Summary: "I dare you to sit alone in the Storybrooke Cemetery until after midnight." Who knew a game of Truth or Dare would become an issue of life or death?

A/N: Much thanks to @kmomof4 for giving this a once over for me. This checks off the cemetery square of my Bingo card and the next part (coming soon) will earn me a BINGO!

Rated T for now / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

I dare you to sit alone in the Storybrooke Cemetery until after midnight.

Emma Swan hated her friends.

Why couldn’t they have dared her to something more typical of a college student on Halloween? Why not dare her to slam a beer, or kiss one of the random guys that had crashed the party, or go streaking down the quad?

Because they obviously hated her as much as she hated them.

Okay. Maybe hate was too strong a word, but still… she had unfriendly feelings toward them at the moment.

A curse slipped from her lips as she tripped over one of the flat gravestones that littered the area of the cemetery closest to the public park. She’d decided it would be best to not park her bright yellow bug at the actual entrance of the cemetery, seeing as visiting interred loved ones after dark wasn’t exactly permitted.

After traipsing through the treeline that separated the public park from the cemetery with nothing more than an old flashlight and its quickly dying batteries - leave your phone in your car. You have to be completely alone - it was no wonder she’d nearly lost her footing. There was practically no moon and the faint solar powered grave lights adorning a few of the headstones did little to illuminate more than the names and dates of those long passed.

Trudging a bit further into the center of the cemetery, Emma found a tall headstone to rest against. She spread out the blanket she’d brought with her, sat down, leaned back, and crossed her arms over her chest.

“This is stupid,” she muttered, refusing to let the intrusive, ridiculous, superstitious, completely irrational thoughts currently parading through her mind make a home there.

There was nothing to be creeped out about. There was nothing scary or unnatural about a graveyard. All she had to do was sit here for…

A frustrated sigh huffed from her chest. Without her phone, how was she supposed to know when midnight was?

There was nothing for it. She’d have to go back and get her phone so she could keep tabs on the time. There was no way she was staying out here a second longer than she had to, and not because she was scared, or creeped out, or had chill bumps already forming on her arms. Nope.

Leaving her blanket behind, Emma set off back towards her car. She’d only managed to walk a few steps when the flashlight batteries finally gave up the ghost… so to speak, plunging her into darkness.

Slapping her palm against the infernal thing in the hopes of reviving it, Emma let out another expletive.

“The fuck am I gonna do now?”

“Good question,” a voice said from behind her.

Emma screamed and spun around. The face of a strange man, being illuminated by his own flashlight shining up from beneath his chin, had her stumbling backward. If not for his quick actions, she would have tumbled over the back of a headstone and probably landed on her head. Instead, she found herself wrapped in his embrace, having pulled her back onto her feet in just the nick of time.

“Whoa there, lass,” he said, adjusting her in his arms to ensure she was steady. “You don’t want to go joining these poor souls before it's your time.”

Attempting to wriggle out of his hold, Emma straightened her spine and lifted her chin. “Let go of me.”

He did as he was told, staying close for a moment to make certain she was sure on her feet before stepping over to where she had left her blanket.

Gathering it from the ground, he held it out to her. “Best not linger here, love. The cemetery is no place for the living after dark.”

Taking the blanket from him, Emma’s eyes narrowed at the man - the handsome, heart-flutter inducing, accented lilt that could make her toes curl, while giving off an air of danger that just made him an impossibly more appealing type of man. Dismissing the erratic beat of her heart as something simply caused by the fright he’d given her and not the lop-sided smile and smoldering eyes currently fixed her way, Emma hugged the blanket against her chest and demanded to know, “What are you doing here then?”

“I work here,” he informed her with all the confidence and authority of a practiced liar.

Because it was a lie. Or half-truth at the very least. Emma could always tell.

Letting out a quiet hum that expressed her doubt, she clocked the way he pawed at a patch of skin behind his ear before glancing around them as though he expected someone else to make an appearance.

Was there someone else in the cemetery with them?

“Look, love,” he began, his tone a bit tighter and more urgent. “I really must insist that you leave here at once. For your own good. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” Emma scoffed. “I don’t even know you.”

“All you need to know is that if you stay here you’re putting yourself in danger.” Before she could pull away the man grabbed one of her hands. “Here,” he said, placing his flashlight in her palm. “Take this and get back to your vehicle.”

“But you still haven’t told me what you’re…”

Her words fell away, choked out by shock and a fresh swell of fear. When she’d cast the beam of the flashlight after the man who was quickly rushing away, she caught sight of a mound of freshly dug earth on the other side of the cemetery. A shovel was sticking out from the pile and she could barely make out the dark chasm of the grave that had been newly exposed.

Was he some sort of grave robber?

Emma turned on her heel and made a beeline for the trees. Her only thought was to call the police, but before she reached the boundary of the cemetery a cold gust stole her breath away. A shrill shriek forced a ripple of terror to tremble down her spine and a silent petrified scream tried to force itself from her lungs when a ghostly figure of a woman manifested right in front of her.

“Get down!” the man shouted and Emma turned in time to see him brandish a shotgun.

Dropping to the ground, a blast went off overhead and she felt small, hard pellets rain down on her as another shriek pierced her ears.

“Are you alright, love?”

The man hauled her to her feet, and unlike the last time it was Emma who now clung to him, her hands holding fast to his upper arms as she tried to reconcile what had just happened.

“W-What was that?”

“That,” he said softly, his gaze filled with obvious remorse as he confirmed her worst nightmare. “Was a ghost.”

“A g-ghost?” Emma shook her head. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious,” he said, brushing the substance he’d fired from his shotgun off her head and shoulders.

“A ghost,” Emma repeated, her mind still grasping for reality as her grip remained tight around his bicep. “Who… whose ghost? How did you…? Is she…?”

“Her name was Cruella,” he told her. “She died in the 1920s and has been haunting the park since her family home, which used to reside there, was torn down in the early 80s. Haven’t you heard the stories?”

“About de Vil Park?”

The man nodded as Emma searched her memory for the tales people often told about the public park. It had been donated by the family whose estate had once been the central landmark of affluence until a murderous scandal had tarnished the de Vil name. The mansion had fallen into disrepair and was ultimately condemned and bulldozed, the land left to the city for public use and made into a park.

Emma had heard stories about people refusing to walk their dogs there, something about the trails making the animals skittish or aggressive. There had been a public health scare when she was in middle school. One fall several kids had been bitten by varying animals - squirrels, a raccoon, and maybe a possum? - and one of them contracted rabies. Most people avoided feeding the animals in the park, fearing attacks, and although after dark activities were allowed, few went there after sundown.

“Is she the reason that animals act strangely there?”

“Aye,” the man said, his eyes casting about and the muscle at his jaw pulsing. “More recently though, she’s taken to tormenting a local woman who unknowingly purchased one of Cruella’s fur coats from an antique store.”

“And you’re here to…”

His eyes cut back to hers, locking on with an intensity that had the same breath stealing effect as the ghost - for different reasons obviously - and causing her to nearly miss the vow he uttered in a low, gruff timbre.

“To put a stop to the bitch. For good.”

“How?”

His reply was cut off by another screech and drop in temperature.

“Bloody hell! Get behind me, love.”

Emma did not hesitate, clinging to his back as the apparition appeared. With practiced skill, he opened the shotgun chamber, loaded two shells, snapped it shut, aimed, and fired a spray of something that made the ghost vanish once more.

“What was that?” Emma asked, following at the man’s heels, his destination becoming clear as they approached the freshly unearthed grave.

“Rock salt,” he answered. “It won’t destroy a spirit, but it does act as a deterrent, forcing them to dissipate briefly.”

“What does destroy a spirit? How does one kill something that’s already dead?”

“You have to salt and burn the bones of the person,” he said matter-of-factly, reaching into a duffel bag and pulling out a canister of salt. “And any earthly object the spirit might be tied to.”

Jutting his chin down towards the grave, the man turned her attention to the ghastly scene six feet below. The lid of her coffin had been pried open, the decaying, partially skeletal remains of Cruella de Vil exposed to the elements for the first time in a hundred years. She’d been laid out in a black gown and once luxurious fur, her fingers and neck draped in jewels, and her hair, still attached to patches of skin affixed to her skull in contrasts of black and white, had been fashioned in a split bob which had been popular in her day. At her feet rested a well kept, white fur coat with black spots, and Emma could only surmise that it was the very coat he’d mentioned moments ago.

A shower of salt crystals rained down on the corpse and coat, followed by a flood of lighter fluid. Emma’s nose wrinkled at the fumes wafting up from the grave, and she finally tore her eyes away from the body when he warned her to step back.

She complied while watching him dig a lighter from his pocket and held her breath when he flipped open the cap and set his thumb against the flint wheel. Another angry gust swirled around them and Emma was too late to call out a warning when the ghost of Cruella appeared once more.

“Look out!” she screamed, but the spectre already had the man by the throat. Hoisting him off his feet, she slammed him against a nearby crypt, his face turning purple from the crushing force against his windpipe. His hands desperately clawed at fingers he could not touch and his eyes began to roll back in his head. With great effort he managed to croak out, “Burn her!”

Emma scrambled about on her knees in the grass at the foot of the grave, knowing he’d dropped the lighter there when the ghost attacked. With shaking hands she flipped open the cap and swiped at the flint wheel futilely a few times before a flame finally sparked. Dropping the lit lighter into the grave set off a cacophony of screeches, shrieks, screams, and wails. Emma covered her ears and balled herself up as a means of protection. Wind whipped around her, the chill of the air and the cries of the ghost causing her to shake violently.

An eerie silence fell over the cemetery, broken only by the sound of the flickering flames consuming Cruella’s corpse and a soft, aching moan groaning from the man as he picked himself up off the ground.

“Are you okay?” she asked, uncoiling herself yet unable to stand just yet, not trusting her legs to hold her.

“Aye,” he croaked, lumbering towards her. “Thanks to you, love.” Rubbing his neck, he looked down at her with awe. “You were bloody brilliant. Amazing.”

She let him help her up, the two of them staring into the other’s eyes, their chests heaving in tandem.

“So, um,” Emma began, pausing to wet her lips and noting how his gaze fell to follow the action. “What now? Is she… gone?”

“She is,” he assured her. “And we should probably vacate as well.”

“Right,” she said, shaking herself from the attraction she should absolutely not be feeling for the ghost hunting, grave digging, creeps about in cemeteries at night, dark and mysterious man.

He also broke away, scratching that patch of skin behind his ear once more before telling her he needed to fill in the grave.

Unsure as to whether she ought to stay until he was finished or leave now, a thought suddenly occurred to her, prompting her to ask, “Um… you wouldn’t happen to know what time it is, would you?”

He paused and pulled his phone from his back pocket to check, then told her, “11:53. Why?”

“It seems stupid now, but, um… I’m supposed to stay until midnight.”

“Midnight? Why midnight?”

Embarrassment prickled over Emma’s skin as she admitted, “I was dared to during a game of Truth or Dare with friends.”

The man laughed and began filling the hole once more. “Truth or Dare, huh? I couldn’t tell you the last time I played Truth or Dare.” Pausing again he pondered the thought for a moment then stated, “Actually… I’m not certain I’ve ever played it.”

With a shrug he set to work again and Emma could not fight off the compulsion to explain herself and why she’d played the childish game in the first place.

“Yeah, well. It’s my senior year of college. I graduate in May and it seemed like a fun thing to do. You know… before I have to seriously start my adult life and whatnot.”

Shut up, Emma. You’re rambling like an idiot!

The man made a sympathetic sound, another shovelful of dirt landing in the now shrinking hole, and admitted, “My adult life began the day I went on my first hunt. I was eleven.”

“First hunt? You mean…”

“Ghosts?” he supplied, when she couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought. “Aye. Although, they aren’t the only supernatural entity we hunt.”

“We? You mean there are others like you?”

“Fewer now than there used to be, but…”

His words fell away and his attention jumped towards the cemetery entrance.

“Fuck,” he muttered, quickly wiping down the handle of the shovel. “Someone’s called the police.”

Emma spun towards the entrance and saw the red and blue strobes of police lights pulling into the parking lot.

“What do we do?” she whisper-yelled at the man who was stuffing his things into the duffle bag, the wiped down shovel cast aside atop the pile of dirt he hadn’t managed to return to the grave.

“Where did you park?” he asked, zipping up the bag and taking the flashlight from her.

“At the park. Why?”

He grabbed her hand and rushed them towards the treeline. “That’s where I’m parked as well,” he informed her. “Less conspicuous that way. With any luck we can get to our vehicles and get out of here without being seen.”

In their haste, Emma nearly forgot about her discarded blanket, but they managed to locate it before exiting the cemetery. They came out of the treeline near his car, a classic 1970s Chevelle, and he wasted no time stowing his duffel bag in the trunk and stripping off his jacket and outer shirt which were covered in dirt.

“I, uh…” Emma began, unsure of what to say, but it didn’t matter. The presence of red and blue lights, preceding a cruiser that was about to turn into the park had her pivoting. “Come with me,” she said, taking him by the hand and leading them back into the treeline.

“What are you doing?” the man demanded in a frantic voice. “We can’t go back that way, they’ll--”

Emma cut him off, her fingers pressing against his lips as she urged, “Help me spread out the blanket.”

With confusion knitting his brows, he did as he was told then knelt down beside her on the now flattened blanket.

“Kiss me,” she said, causing the man to balk.

“What?”

Knowing time was not on their side, Emma grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled his mouth to hers with enough force to topple them over. He grunted as they hit the ground, but didn’t pull away when she slid her lips against his and threaded her fingers through the back of his hair. It didn’t take but another quick beat for him to catch on to her plan, and when he did, he threw himself into the ruse with great enthusiasm.

Enthusiasm and passion and heat and… oh my.

His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips and his hips shifted, settling into the cradle of her thighs. Emma groaned and pulled him closer, the taste of him and need of air making her lightheaded. His fingers grazed a path along her ribcage, his thumb tracing the swell of her breast, awaiting a silent cue of consent before he cupped her in his hand and began to knead the needy flesh trapped beneath her bra.

With one hand still held fast in his dark, silken tresses, she raked the other down his back until it reached his jeans, pulling noises from him that made the heat in her belly and throb between her legs intensify. Slipping her hand into his back pocket, she gripped his ass and lifted her hips, grinding against the rigid length that hardened further as something akin to a growl rumbled in his chest.

An honest to God whimper quivered off her lips when he pulled away, but it was quickly replaced by a sharp wanton gasp at the feel of his hot, rough tongue outlining the shell of her ear.

“Gods, love,” he murmured hoarsely, his teeth nibbling at her earlobe while he rocked his hips into hers. “Tell me your--”

“Who's there! What are you two doing out here?”

She and the man both froze at the sound of the policeman’s voice, and Emma had to squint past the shine of flashlights to make out a second officer coming towards them from the opposite direction.

“You heard him,” the second officer shouted. “What are you doing out here?”

“U-Um…” Emma stammered from beneath the man whose attention was set squarely on the first cop. “Truth or Dare?”

~/~

“Let me get this straight,” the officer said, continuing to scrutinize their IDs. “You were at a Halloween party, playing Truth or Dare, and he got dared to come out here. Then a little bit later, you got dared to join him.”

“That’s what the lass said,” the man replied in a derisive tone.

“And what is the lass’ name?” the officer questioned with a smug expression.

“It’s uh…” Furtively, the man cast his eyes to Emma’s before sheepishly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck.

“You didn’t get her name before you--”

“I would have gotten it before we parted,” the man said in an attempt to defend himself and Emma was struck by the truth she heard in his statement.

“Did someone report our vehicles or something?” Emma asked, attempting to throw the officer off his questioning. “We told you why we’re out here. Why are you?”

“Someone called in a disturbance,” the officer replied. “You two didn’t see or hear anything?”

“We were a bit preoccupied,” the man quipped, tossing a smirk at Emma. “What sort of disturbance?”

“Someone dug up a grave and set fire to it. You two know anything about that?”

“Bloody hell!” the man exclaimed, his disgust and shock perfectly believable and authentic sounding.

Emma hoped hers did as well. “Seriously? Who would do something like that?”

“You didn’t see anyone else out here?” the officer asked again, his focus intently set on trying to ascertain whether they were being truthful.

“No,” they both emphatically insisted.

“Are you saying they did this recently?” Emma said, pressing into the man’s side. “While we were out here?”

The man put his arm around her shoulders and held her close, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her arm while casting a nervous glance around them. “And you’re certain they’re gone?”

“We aren’t certain of anything,” the other officer said with a sigh, returning from the cemetery to inform them, “Crime unit just got here. You two are free to go.”

Emma snapped her head towards the man who met her gaze. Before either of them could move, the interrogating officer said, “Hold on a minute.”

Joining the other officer, the cop asked in a low tone, “Are you sure? Don’t you think we ought to take them in for further questioning?”

“They’re just a couple of horny college students, not grave desecrating whack jobs,” the other officer countered. “You’ve got their info in case we need to follow up. For now, cut them loose.”

Emma did not have to be told twice. As soon as the officer handed them back their identification they made a beeline for their vehicles.

“Do you know the diner around the corner from here?” the man whispered in her ear.

“Granny’s? Yeah. It’s a popular hangout. Why?”

“Meet me there,” he said, opening her car door for her and letting her slide in behind the wheel before snapping it shut and heading towards his Chevelle.

His engine purred to life a moment later and Emma warred with whether or not to follow him. Chewing her lip, she watched his tail lights disappear and a buzzing sound pulled her attention to her phone.

Twenty-six texts and three missed calls.

Ruby: Remember. No phone!

Ruby: You better not have your phone

Belle: I hope you’re okay.

Belle: And I hope you aren’t too mad at us!

More of the same from Mary Margaret and August. A couple of texts from her brother, demanding she call the moment she’s back at her car. A few more from Ruby with links to ghost story articles. A missed call from David at 12:01. Another at 12:07. The last from Mary Margaret at 12:21.

Emma made a quick group text and sent them all a message.

Back in my car. Safe and Sound. Is the party still going? Gonna run to Granny’s for a hot chocolate then I’ll come back if you guys are still partying.

With her mind made up, Emma set off towards Granny’s and did her best to ignore the constant buzz of her phone during the short drive. When she walked through the door, the bell chiming overhead, her mystery man’s head snapped up from the steaming mug he had wrapped in his hands and a wide smile bloomed across his face.

“I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show,” he said, reclining back in the booth and draping his arm along the back. “Thought you might have ghosted me.”

His brows danced over his eyes, his smile turning mischievous and Emma couldn’t help but roll her eyes while attempting to swallow back an amused response bubbling up from her chest. Stopping at the booth, she waved off his offer to take the seat opposite him, preferring to stand.

“I almost didn’t,” she admitted, tucking her hands into her pockets and scuffing the tile at her feet with her toe. “Would that have disappointed you?”

The man shrugged and shook his head. “Nope. ‘Cause I would have just gone after you.”

“Oh, really?” Emma said in a dubious tone. “And why’s that?”

Leaning forward, he caught her with a sultry gaze and crooned, “Because… I know how you kiss.” Resuming his previous posture, he added, “And I enjoy a challenge.”

“That would be a challenge, all right,” she replied in a taunting tone. “You don’t even know my name.”

“Your usual, Emma?” Granny questioned from the counter, pulling a grin and deep chuckle from the man.

“Emma, is it?” he cheeked. “Does my saviour have a last name?”

Rolling her eyes again, Emma answered, “Swan. Emma Swan, and I’m no saviour.”

“I don’t know about that,” he countered. “You certainly saved my ass tonight. Twice, in fact.”

“Yeah, well… you saved me first, so… we’re even, I guess.” Turning to the counter, she called out to Granny, “Can you make that hot chocolate to go?”

“To go?” the man questioned with evident disappointment.

“Yeah.” Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, she said, “My friends keep blowing up my phone and if I don’t get back they’re liable to call the cops and I wouldn’t want them to blow our cover story, so I…”

“You can’t stay.” His eyes had dropped to the table, an expression of resignation set in his features.

“I was hoping,” she began softly, earning her a hopeful glance from him. “If you’re not busy tomorrow, I thought you might want to get lunch or something?”

He smiled up at her but it was bittersweet in its corners. “I would love nothing more. Truly. But I have another job to get to. It’s a few hundred miles from here, so I have to get on the road soon.”

“Oh. Right. Sure.”

“However,” he said, sliding his phone across the table towards her. “If you give me your number, I’ll call you the next time I’m in the area.” Sincerity poured from his forget-me-nots depths as he declared, “I would very much like to see you again, Swan.”

Emma tried to smother a self-satisfied smile and picked up his phone from the table. “So you know my name and now you want my number, yet… I have no idea who you are.”

“Fair point,” he conceded on an amused breath. Standing from the booth, he pressed in close to where she stood and took her hand in his. “Killian Jones,” he murmured, lifting her hand to his mouth and brushing a soft kiss to the backs of her knuckles. “At your service.”

With her lip caught between her teeth, Emma pulled her hand from his and punched her number into his phone before handing it back to him.

“One hot chocolate with whipped cream and cinnamon to-go,” Granny announced from the counter, a taunting tone underpinning her words.

“Thanks, Granny,” Emma replied, ignoring the woman’s knowing expression as she took the cup and turned back towards the man, who she now knew to be Killian Jones.

“So…” she drew out in an effort to stall a bit longer. “Thank you for a most memorable evening.” Killian chuckled at that and the sound absolutely did not make her heart stutter. “And um, good luck on your next job.” Realization of what that next job might entail had her insides growing cold for a moment and she took his hand, squeezing it tightly, as she implored, “Please, be careful.”

Killian threaded his fingers between hers, entwining their hands and assuring her, “You don’t have to worry about me, love. If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving.”

The truth in his words did not give her much comfort. How many times had it been tested in order to be proven true thus far? Emma wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

Perhaps sensing her continued concern, he added, “I’ll be careful, Swan. I promise.”

Her back pocket began vibrating once more, a deluge of texts and calls from her friends, no doubt. The buzzing must have reached his ears.

“You should go, love. Don’t keep your friends worrying about you.”

“Right,” she said, forcing herself to take a step away from him. Then another. Then another. “See you around, Jones.”

“Count on it, Swan.”

~/~

One Year Later…

“What do you mean, we released a ghost when we uncovered that skeleton in the wall?”

“Exactly what I said, Neal! We’ve got an angry spirit in the house and we need someone to help us get rid of it.”

“Who the hell is gonna help us get rid of a ghost, Ems?”

With a long suffering sigh, Emma admitted, “I just might know a guy.”

Part Two

[julialang078-blog]

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[streetlight11]

Something About You

Summary: He has been going on dates, meeting new people online, wanting to find the girl of his dreams. But so far, all of them whom he met either have nothing in common with him or has a lot of common interest except cats. He has 3 cats so he could never imagine dating someone who would never get along with his cats. Turns out, the girl he has been dreaming about happens to be a lot closer than he think.

Theme: University au, partial strangers to friends to lovers

Genre: Fluffy fluff

WC: 4.2k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I’m back with a new fic. Hope you enjoy!

“So, how was your date?” Chan asked his roommate who had just entered their shared apartment looking just as tired and done as his pet cats. The boy simply frowned, kicking off his shoes and went straight to their living room only to crash on the couch next to where the older boy was seated with his laptop in his lap, probably just composing new tracks.

“Horrible. Probably won’t be getting back to her anytime soon.” Minho shrugged before taking out his phone only to scroll through YouTube of cat videos. 

Just then, a soft meow came from below his feet only for Soonie to hop into Minho’s lap and purred when he stroked its head to its tail in a loving motion. Chan let out a soft chuckle. He had a hunch on why this date didn’t work out just like the rest of Minho’s date.

“Was she another one of those girls who are scared of cats?” Chan asked but Minho’s face turned into a scowl.

“Worse. Can you believe she actually kicked the poor kitty away when all it wanted was a pet from her? God, how can some people be so awful?!” Minho grunted in annoyance, making Chan gasp in shock.

He has heard about all Minho’s past dates being scared of cats and sometimes even running away from them but never did he think someone would actually harm the poor animal. 

“Geez, yeah, she is definitely out of your list then.”

“Tell me about it.” Minho rolled his eyes as he got up to take a warm shower after a terrible first date.

The next morning, Y/N got woken up by her blaring alarm that has been going off for the past 5 minutes. Her morning lecture was in an hour but her roommate and also her close friend, Sana had already left since she had classes slightly earlier. She forced herself out of bed, only to shower and change into a comfortable outfit that was campus appropriate.

She managed to stop by the café right outside her apartment to get her morning dose of caffeine before walking to campus that was conveniently 20 minutes away from where they lived.

Y/N arrived on campus 5 minutes before her first class, making her way straight to class on the opposite side of the back entrance. Y/N was a CS major while Sana was a Psych major, hence the different schedules. She wasn’t really an outgoing type of girl, but she’s not exactly an introvert either.

Y/N has never been the one to start a random conversation with someone first. But, once she feels comfortable with a person, she can joke and chat for hours and never get tired of it.

She was a shy yet friendly girl at the same time and that’s what makes Sana befriend her so easily.

Above else, Y/N was a very sporty girl and she loved playing netball. Hence, the reason why she was the Team Captain of Konkuk U girl’s netball team. Sana wasn’t in the sport but she always came down to support her best friend if they had any tournaments for that season. Hours passed and Y/N had just finished her classes, only to receive a text from Sana, telling her to meet at the cafeteria.

Y/N entered the cafeteria hall with her laptop in one hand and her phone in the other, just scrolling through her twitter when she came to a stop at the entrance to try and find her friend.

When she spotted her blonde haired roommate standing by a table where there were at least 8 guys seated at, she knew it was Sana’s best guy friend.

Y/N walked as her eyes were trained to her phone screen but her feet brought her exactly to where Sana was. She didn’t realise where she was walking until she heard Sana’s adorable voice calling out her name.

“Y/N!”

The said girl froze in her spot, seeing that she was just 2 feet away from her and the guys.

Y/N simply smiled, proceeding to join Sana by the side of the table, only for her eyes to naturally travel to the people seated at the table. If she could admit, she was currently staring at two rows of handsome looking guys.

“Babe! This is my best friend I told you about! This is Chan. Chan, this is my roommate and best friend, Y/N!” Sana introduced them to each other, only for Chan to smile. He stuck his hand out, making Y/N shake it gently.

“Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you!” Chan said as a smile appeared on his face.

“Hey, nice to meet you too.” Y/N mimicked his expression, something she normally did when she just met someone.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just shy!” Sana explained and some of the boys found themselves smiling at this remark. Just then, Y/N’s eyes seemed to find it’s own way towards Minho who was seated at the very end of the table. Of course she doesn’t know him, but he did attract her eye for being quite cute. Probably even cuter than the others.

“Okay guys, I’ll see you later. Y/N let’s go! I’m starving!” Sana giggled as she bid the boys goodbye before linking her arms with her roommate and soon dragged her down the cafeteria aisle.

“You didn’t tell us your best friend’s friend is cute too?!” Jisung said, causing Chan to shrug.

“Sorry guys, cause I didn’t know either.” Chan teased, making Jisung roll his eyes but a small chuckle left his lips right after.

A few weeks passed and as expected, Y/N often rejected Sana’s offer of joining her to hang out with the guys not because she didn’t like them. It was because she was shy and Sana of course understood this but she never pressed on it. Instead, she gave Y/N the chance to willingly join if she wanted to without any pressure.

However, it was a Thursday late afternoon and the girl’s netball team was having a tournament that day. As promised, Sana came down to support Y/N and her team. Except this time, she made sure to tag all the boys along and they came without a single doubt.

Y/N was just doing her warm up when she glanced over to the bleachers, that’s when she saw Sana and the rest of the guys on the fourth and fifth rows of the bleachers.

Y/N didn’t know why but she found herself instantly smiling when she saw that they came down to support her. Just then, Sana happened to look over and she locked eyes with Y/N, making her wave her hand up high as she let out a soft giggle.

She responded back with a small wave while some of the guys did the same.

Right at that moment, she locked eyes with Minho who was seated in the seat just below Sana. For some reason, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up in her chest.

Almost an hour later, it’s the final round and it was between Konkuk U and Sogang U. Y/N currently sat on the ground beside the bench where her team members were seated.

“Alright girls. I have a lot of faith in you guys but let’s switch some of you so that you guys get to participate in the games fair and square.” Y/N announced to her teammates who then nodded, waiting for her next command. After switching 3 of the players and Y/N was satisfied with this, the 7 players soon cheered before going to the court.

The game started and it already got pretty intense.

Sogang U was winning by a thread but Y/N tried to keep the game in their court. Right when Yeri was about to toss the ball towards Y/N who was sprinting forwards, a member from the Sogang team forcefully threw themselves against her form.

Y/N practically got thrown across the court when she crashed onto the ground with an awful loud thud before she slid to a stop.

At the fall, she managed to hit her head on the ground from the impact, causing her to go lightheaded for a brief moment. A series of gasps were heard from the crowd, watching her press her forehead against the ground as a hiss left her lips.

The girl who shoved her, only smirked before they continued the game.

“Oh no…” Sana whispered as they stared at Y/N’s limp body. Just then, Yeri ran to her team captain, only for her to gasp asking if she wanted to swap with anyone on the team. Y/N brushed her off when Yeri helped her up, only to hear that Sogang U scored another point.

She rubbed her temple slightly, wincing in pain but nonetheless told Yeri that she was okay. Just then, their coach shouted at Y/N to swap with Irene but Y/N gave him a shake of her head followed by an ‘okay’ sign and soon resumed the game. Her friends watched anxiously as Minho couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

“Why won’t you just rest?” He whispered under his breath when he saw her jog to get the ball.

A few moments later, the same opponent from Sogang U targeted Y/N again, pushing Y/N by her shoulders. Y/N almost lost her balance but she swiftly threw the ball over their heads, towards Lisa on the other side of the court.

The girl snarled at Y/N but she gave the girl a soft smirk before raising an eyebrow up to taunt her.

A few runs later, the girl purposely tripped Y/N, making her accidentally fall backwards with her ass hitting the ground hard. Y/N glared at the girl, only to hear a few seconds later that Konkuk U was taking the victory trophy.

The girls were just walking back to their side of the hall when somebody roughly turned her around and threw a snarky remark to her and her team.

“Better luck next time, when I actually get you on the bench. That way my team for sure can win that trophy.” The girl said before she gave Y/N’s cheek a few slaps. Y/N’s friends who saw this were furious as Chan and Felix practically had to hold Sana back. Y/N scoffed, watching the girls of Sogang U continue walking while Y/N’s teammates comforted her, telling her it’s okay. 

Once everyone in the bleachers were leaving, Y/N was just wiping her neck from the sweat when Sana came running to her with her arms open. Sana gave her a few words of comfort, telling her not to be too affected by whatever that girl said. After the tournament was over and their coach had dismissed them, she took her duffle bag. They were walking towards the entrance of the hall when her vision suddenly went black and her head was pounding. 

A soft groan left her lips when she nearly collapsed down to the left side but someone was quick to catch her and it was Minho. He wrapped an arm around her waist while the other hand reached for her forearm that was clutching onto her head.

“Woah. Are you okay?” His voice soft, laced with obvious worry.

Y/N nodded, letting Sana help Minho hold her as they each held her on either side. Outside the campus’ back entrance, Minho asked if Y/N was strong enough to walk back to her apartment with Sana alone and she said yes.

Sana told the boys she would update them if anything happened along the way. But the girls ended up going home safely, only for her to recover in just two days.

A week passed and it was a Saturday night, where Sana told Y/N she would be out with her boyfriend. Y/N decided to head to a nearby library to study since the campus was closed on weekends. It was already nearing 10pm, probably the reason why she kept yawning every 5 minutes.

“Maybe I should head home.” She thought as she began to slowly pack her bags and soon left.

The boys on the other hand had just finished checking out the new steakhouse downtown. Simply hanging out without having alcohol involved.

They were just walking down the dimly lit street, their voices were probably the only audible sounds currently apart from the cars driving past every few minutes. The street was quite empty, they could literally count with their fingers on how many people they’ve passed by.

They were just talking about some soccer league when Minho’s eyes travelled towards the alley down the road, only to see a girl petting what looks to be a stray cat.

His eyes lit up as a smile tugged on his lips.

He has never seen anyone openly pet a stray cat around this area before so he was quite surprised to say the least. Nevertheless, he smiled brightly as he quickened his pace, telling the boys to meet up with him at that alley where the cat and unknown girl was.

Minho briskly walked towards the alley, only to be met with a very familiar face.

“Y/N?”

At the mention of her name, she turned to look up towards the guy standing by the sidewalk, currently looking down at her just gently scratching the cat’s ears.

“Minho? Hey…” She smiled and she could feel her heartbeat pick up speed.

“What are you doing out here at this late timing alone?” He asked, genuinely worried.

“I was at the library studying. I‘m on my way home actually.” She admitted, only to feel her cheeks heat up. Just then, she heard Chan’s voice from behind her, making her turn around.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Chan asked, making her giggle with a nod.

“Where were you headed?” He asked.

But before she could answer, a soft meow echoed down the street as the cat pressed it’s head into Y/N’s open hands, making her giggle. 

This small gesture was enough to make the boys smile, and maybe Minho’s heart to flutter.

“I actually just told Minho that I was about to head home from the library, when this adorable little one just started following me from down the block and I don’t think it’s gonna leave my side anytime soon.” Y/N said with a soft sigh. The cat meowed yet again as though responding to her.

Minho tilted his head to the side in confusion upon hearing her sigh when she looked down at the pretty brown fur ball before scratching the side of the cat’s face again.

“As much as you’re super adorable, I can’t take you home with me, baby.” Her voice was soft. The cat simply purred with soft round eyes staring back at her. Her words came as a shock to some of them but curious to the remaining.

“Wait, why can’t you?” Minho asked.

“I’m actually sensitive to cats.” She confessed, only for Minho’s heart to blossom. She’s sensitive to cats and yet she still pets them and even showers them with love? Where has she been all his life?

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it bad though?” Hyunjin asked, only for her to shake her head.

“I can touch them, but if I stay too long in an enclosed area with them, my skin will start to get red and itchy, and my nose would start to get runny.” Y/N said pressing her lips in a thin line, making the guys nod, feeling bad for her.

Just then, Minho squats down beside her figure only to stretch his arm over to pet the cat and the little fur ball just willingly went over to him. The cat rubs its face against Minho’s knees and thighs. Y/N couldn’t help but smile when she saw just how equally loving he was towards it. At that very moment, Minho just happened to look up only to catch her looking at him.

A small little bubble burst in the pit of his stomach as she soon tickled the cat’s lower back, making it go to her.

Y/N giggled when the cat stood on its hind legs, pressing its two front paws on her collarbone, making her laugh. Y/N cupped the fur ball’s face and soon caressed it sweetly before she nuzzled her nose against the cat’s pink ones, only for the cat to meow in her face.

“Looks like it really loves you Y/N.” Chan said, making her laugh.

However, her smile was soon wiped off and a soft frown appeared on her face. But this didn’t go unnoticed by Minho. So he suggested something quite smart.

“I have an idea. We’ll distract it while you quickly head back home. You know? To avoid it from following you?” Minho said, making the rest of them nod in agreement. She stared at the cat for slightly too long before she locked eyes with Minho, only for her to mouth to him softly.

“Thank you.”

With that being said, the rest of the boys slowly began to huddle around the cat while Y/N carefully got up and tiptoed her way down the street in the direction of her apartment.

She glanced back when she was reaching the traffic junction, only to catch Minho staring at her with a very soft expression. After she finally turned the corner, Changbin couldn’t help but speak up while the rest were busy pouring their attention on the cat.

“Damn, she’s pretty, she’s a team captain, she’s nice, AND she loves cats even though she’s allergic to it? I think you’ve found your match made in heaven, hyung.” He ended with his usual smirk, wiggling his eyebrows to Minho only for the elder boy to huff although he knew deep down that what Changbin said was right.

Y/N went home that night only to find her mind going back to when Minho looked so in love with the cat. Why did that make him look so… so endearing?

She smiled to herself thinking about how happy he looked when the cat was practically smearing its scent all over him. Y/N simply shook her head off of the thoughts and soon took a fresh shower before heading to bed, with Sana still nowhere to be seen.

Ever since that night, Y/N slowly began to warm up with the guys more. Especially Minho since it seemed as though they could literally talk about cats for hours. She found out later that he owned 3 cats in his shared apartment with Chan and that they were basically his children. She couldn’t help but laugh despite finding that extremely cute.

Y/N was added to their group chat which had the boys and Sana in it, only for her to exchange numbers with Minho as well. It has been 3 months since they’ve gotten closer and needless to say, Minho started to fall for her as the days go by and so did she.

It was currently a Saturday evening and both her and Sana got invited to Chan’s place to just hangout and chill, in which the girls agreed without a second thought.

Y/N wore her denim ripped skinny jeans, a shirt tucked in, a black jacket and her converse. Sana wore an open shoulder dress and a pair of vans since she was just a very girly girl compared to Y/N.

They arrived at Chan’s shared apartment, only for her to find out that Minho had kept his cats in his room. Something he doesn’t do whenever any of them come over.

Perhaps he cared for her and he didn’t want her to get sick for coming to their house.

Despite the teasing coming from his friends, he simply ignored them. He brushed them off by saying that he was just trying to be nice. When the girls entered the apartment, immediately, Y/N could already feel her nose being tickled by the atmosphere thanks to the cats living in that space.

But it wasn’t too serious yet but still, a small sneeze left her lips.

They greeted the guys who were in the living room when Minho came out of his room in just grey sweatpants, a tank top and his cutely tousled hair.

As soon as Minho locked eyes with Y/N, he froze in his spot. He saw the small smile on her face, making him shy all of a sudden. A few minutes later, they were all just gathered in the living room when Y/N turned to Minho who was seated on the floor beside her feet.

“Min ah, where’s your cats?” She asked. Minho felt himself tense up at the nickname but quickly regained himself.

“They’re in my room. Why? You wanna see them?” He asked, not realizing that some of them were actually watching them from their respective seats discreetly. Y/N smiled as she gave him a cute little nod. He could’ve sworn his heart jumped out of his chest for a bit. Nonetheless, he brought her to his closed bedroom only to push the door open and was instantly greeted by the soft jingle sounds of their collars.

Y/N smiled as 2 of the fur balls ran up to Minho and her. Making him quickly close the door behind him. Both of them kneeled down onto the ground when the dark grey cat began to nuzzle against her legs, while the light golden one hopped into Minho’s arms effortlessly.

“They’re so cute! What are their names?” She asked as she scratched the grey cat behind its ear, earning a soft purr from it.

“The one in your lap is Dori. This is Soonie. And that sleeping one is Doongie.” Minho introduced when he heard a soft squeak from her in excitement, causing him to chuckle. A blush crept onto his cheeks.

“How long have you had them for?” She asked curiously as Dori snuggled into her chest, making her pout.

“I’ve had them since I was young. When I went off to college, I told my parents I wanted to bring them with me. So, here we are.” Minho said, making her giggle thinking that his story was very cute.

Just then, Dori licked the tip of Y/N’s nose, catching her off guard.

She let out a soft giggle, turning her head towards Minho with her eyes crinkled shut. He found this extremely cute. When she fluttered her eyelids back open, she was met with him staring at her with a warm smile on his face.

She got shy so she turned to look back down at Dori, scratching the back of its ear. Soonie left Minho’s lap as he turned to her and Dori, only for him to give a few scratches to Dori’s head. Just then, Minho leaned in to rub his face into Dori’s body. Y/N giggled, watching him interact with his own pet.

Just then, he pulled away from Dori, taking this chance to turn his head towards her.

But for some reason, it felt like a mistake with how close their faces were from each other. It was almost as if they could feel each other’s breath fanning their lips and unfortunately for them, it was true. The room fell silent as nobody dared to say a word.

For some odd reason, Minho felt brave enough to actually lean in closer. 

Y/N watched very carefully as he closed the gap until she could feel his lips brushing against hers very lightly. At that very second, she closed her eyes, afraid to continue looking. Minho saw this and he began to smile, thinking she was adorable.

So he decided not to dwell on this and instead, he firmly pressed his lips on hers. Her breath hitched in her throat. She soon found herself melting against his lips. Minho’s arm found its way around her waist as he pulled her closer, until she could feel Dori jump out of her lap.

She pulled away when her stomach got pressed by Dori’s paws when it leaped off, causing him to chuckle.

“Sorry about that.” He apologized, only for her to smile.

“It’s fine.” She said with a soft little smile, only for him to blush as he kissed her again, this time reaching up to cup her face in his hand. Her heart was racing against her chest when he felt her rest her hands on his chest. Minho pulled away, having to force himself not to get too intoxicated by her soft, crème brûlée tasting lips thanks to her lip balm.

“Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?” He asked, only for her to giggle.

“Will you bring me to see your babies again?” She said.

“That depends.” He teased, making her laugh as he soon did the same. She smiled against his lips when she kissed him again, feeling extremely happy. They came back out to find the rest of them smirking. They asked why the two of them were taking their own sweet time in there, only for Minho to smirk.

“Maybe because I’m going on a date with the cutest, sweetest girl I’ve ever met who loves cats as much as I do?” Minho said, only for the rest of them to cheer happily for the new couple. Y/N blushed as she hid her face in Minho’s arm, causing him to chuckle but he simply hugged her and kissed her forehead endearingly.

Looks like he managed to find the girl of his dreams anyway.

[elytrafemme]

sleepy annon here because i forgot to send in my ask about cough syrup because this chapter has my brain freaking out

uh firstly cs!ranboo’s inner thoughts feels like someone is poking at my brain with the operation tweezers from the hit board game operation/pos

SECONDLY seeing the development of the relationship of cs!dream and cs!ranboo makes me want to crawl up a wall like a rabid animal. like holy crap i can’t believe this and i’m shook and uagh. and i don’t want to talk about super heavy things but the idea of cs!dream like convincing cs!ranboo that he’s suicidal to try and control him is just!!! so evil. you write this so well. i actively wanted to sleep cs!dream 

also the moment between cs!tommy and cs!rnaboo by the car was just. wow. seeing the shift in cs!ranboo’s thought process was so cool and if i remember correctly the shift has something to do with thinking about cs!dream but i haven’t read the chapter since tuesday so ehajdjfj.

also!!! just the set up… i feel on the edge of my seat!!! like i feel like things are going to happen and i’m just vibrating with excitement!!! and a possible conversation about cs!dream between cs!ranboo wnd cs!tommy and/or cs!tubbo would have crazy possible results. 

i feel the crash and burn ready to come in my bones and i’m hyped and also considering just not reading till a chapter where it gets better is released but i’d drive myself crazy doing that <3

anyway you write amazing have a wonderful day/nigh! ✨✨✨

answering ur asks separately just cos tumblr hates me whenever i screenshot fucking anything

NAUUR NOT THE TWEEZERS FROM THE HIT BOARD GAME OPERATION!!! very happy you can connect though or. well. sorry about the mental illness but on the bright side i hope you can experience catharsis with like the way the story goes and all that!

i think you meant slap not sleep but i find that typo very funny, sleepy anon at hys core </3 but YEAH cs!dream is so. he's so. twirls my hair He's so fucked up i hate him so bad and im so glad people trust me to write him

YEAHHHHHHH I'M SO GLAD U NOTICED THAT SPECIFIC SHIFT N THAT PEOPLE HAVE POINTED IT OUT BC LIKE. one of the BEST THINGS about ranboo as a character in whole is his hypocrisy and mental contradictions and!!!! he's MEANT to be such an asshole in that moment because he really doens't know what's going on and has the believe cs!tommy is out to get him but he also DOES want to help but he's so. just. <333333333 YEAH the shift in his brain means a lot to me basically

oh sleepy we are about to crash and BURN our way to hell. and then back <3 but ohhhh man it's going to hurt like hell (and heal like heaven!) but it's gonna be so funny to see the responses. oh you're going to have a great time

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!!!!

[karlyfr13s]

Oathkeeper Chapter 2

It was supposed to be a CS one-shot, but then the CSMM crew got ahold of me and now we’re in multi-chapter mode. Thanks to the ladies for their inspiration, enabling, and cheering me on. Looking at you @teamhook, @caught-in-the-filter, @hollyethecurious, @gingerpolyglot (tell me if you want added, and coach the newbie in where these actually belong).

A HUGE thank you to @veryverynotgood who is the most radiant beta and gives me flails that keep me going through the self-doubt. 

Links in case you missed Chapter 1 or prefer to read on ao3

Note: the rating is now M due to violent imagery.

Killian’s first week in Storybrooke was unconventional and more than a little confusing. Everyone in the whole bloody town seemed related, or at least so interconnected there may as well be blood involved; it drew attention to him and he spent most days certain he was being watched.

Certainly there were fewer eyes on him than on the young Lost Boy, Felix, and for that Killian was grateful. He observed the woman everyone called Granny as she put the lad to work with a nearly endless list of chores, always under her watchful, scrutinizing eye. In want of conversation one evening, he’d inquired about the choice to take on someone such as Felix. That had earned him a derisive snort and an eye-roll that rivaled Emma Swan’s when Granny explained in no uncertain terms that she was well-equipped for the job.

“Listen, Captain,” she leaned on the bar as he sipped a rum, “if I can raise Ruby through puberty as a damn wolf, I can handle one scrappy Lost Boy. What he needs is a strong guiding hand, and a good dose of responsibility--that Pan let those kids run wild.” Killian tipped his glass to her at that assessment, knowing all too clearly how the lads were deceived and used throughout their time in Neverland. “Structure, Hoo--it’s Killian, right?” she amended quickly. “Kids need structure and routine. You’d do well to remember that.”

Not for the first time, Killian wondered exactly how much Granny overheard and knew as she watched her patrons come and go. In fact, she was the only one in town who referred to him by his given name, most simply opting for Hook or Captain if they were being pleasant. Or ‘the pirate’ if they happen to be Emma’s father, he added. His ponderance was abruptly interrupted when the door crashed open and an exasperated looking Emma quickly crossed to the bar and sank down one stool from his own.

“This one calls for a whisky on the rocks, Granny,” she huffed, casting a sidelong glance at Killian’s own glass. “You too, huh? Must be going around today.” He watched as she shucked her red leather jacket, tossing it aside on the barstool between them and he gave her a moment, offering a quick clink of his glass once her own libation arrived.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” Killian kept his voice light, noting the tension in the set of her shoulders and jaw.

She heaved a sigh and he made a valiant effort to focus on her stunning green eyes rather than the assets her movements showcased in that moment. “The short version? I’m sick of my mother,” she tripped on the word, “trying to be my life coach. I’m tired of inane ‘loitering’ reports from the surliest dwarf, and I cannot seem to get--” her momentum was immediately interrupted by the door and a sudden call across the diner.

“Ems, there you are!”

“--a single minute of quiet,” Emma finished lowly while Neal sauntered over and leaned against the counter, placing himself between Killian and her.

“So, I was thinking we could grab dinner. You know, you, me and Henry? Or maybe just you and me if Regina has--”

“Neal, I’ve had a long day. I am going to enjoy this drink, maybe a second, and then I am eating whatever I rummage out of the pantry at Mary Margaret’s since she and David are out on a date.”

“So you have the place to yourself?”

Killian understood the insinuation and clenched his jaw. He started counting backward from ten while he listened to Emma try to redirect Neal’s plans, and when he heard the other man’s second attempt to garner an invitation he reset the clock and started the count at twenty. Perhaps she cares for him, he reminded himself. She is tired and had a difficult day, but that does not mean she has chosen not to be with--

Her voice was suddenly raised and Killian felt like he was about four steps behind the conversation as he snapped to attention on the words she spat at the man across from her.

“Just go-- go, Neal. This isn’t happening. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. It is not happening .” Whatever expression she held in that moment must have been truly glorious to earn Neal’s melodramatic scoff as he stormed out the diner and slammed the door behind him.

Granny simply poured a healthy splash of whisky in Emma’s glass in reply before shuffling back to the kitchen as she had witnessed the whole interaction mere steps from Killian, who just now was actively working to control both his expression and the thoughts wheeling through his mind at her parting shot. What exactly was not happening between them? Where did that leave him?

Killian glanced over at Emma, her eyes ablaze as if challenging him to comment on the interaction. “Darts are quiet,” he offered congenially, smiling what he considered his most winning grin.

That earned him a quick bark of laughter. “And a little violent,” she smirked.

“Aye, that too, Swan.”

She held up her glass and they shared their second silent toast of the evening. “I could use a little of both,” she added as she got up, glass in hand and the beginnings of a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

“I hear rumor they even sell food at this establishment,” Killian pressed his luck a bit as they collected the two sets of darts and set up.

“You don’t say?” She shook her head at him and he watched her consider the offer. “Loser buys?”

“Of course, love.” He sketched her a bow, flourishing his hand and making a show of it to cover up his surprise.

“Not your love,” she retorted, sinking a bullseye on her first try while Killian considered how grateful he was that Granny accepted doubloons. Where had she learned to play like this?

...

Granny hollered last call only moments after Emma bid Killian goodnight, a lightness to her steps as he watched her go. “Looks like that went well,” Granny called over as she wiped down the last table.

“Aye,” he tossed Granny a wink, “and she stayed for three games. And dessert.”

For the life of him, Killian couldn’t decipher Granny’s laugh at this simple observation until the double-entendre dawned on him at last. He was tired and perhaps he’d imbibed one too many glasses if he was the one missing the joke...it was then he noticed Emma’s jacket still laying across the barstool where she’d first dropped it.

“Seven hells,” he took off to the sound of Granny’s whooping call as she warned him the sheriff walked fast and he’d better work for it. Work for what exactly? Killian mused as he jogged out into the night, no easy feat in full leathers with more than a bit of drink in him. He spotted her golden hair in the lamplight down the street and called out, thinking it the better option than startling her.

She spun on her heel, wobbled slightly, and burst into laughter as she leaned against the lamppost for support--clearly he wasn’t the only to enjoy one too many this evening. Ever the gentleman, Killian held her jacket out and ignored her comment about being chased down Main Street by a pirate.

“Princess,” he began, calling far too loudly given the hour, “chivalry demands I return your cloak, lest you catch a chill on this dark night.” She shushed him less than successfully as she giggled and fell into step beside him-- Emma Swan can giggle, he mused. “As well,” he continued, voice full volume and bordering on a bellow, “I must see you safely to your door. No doubt there are ruffians about, and all manor of unsavory ne’er-do-wells, all seeking mischief against such an elegant,” he chuckled as she staggered slightly, “and graceful lady as thee.”

“You’re such an idiot, shut up! Do you want the whole neighborhood awake?” Her scolding was half-hearted at best considering her idea of a whisper could likely be heard across the street.

“Do you think they’ll call the sheriff, love” He waggled his eyebrows at her and she swatted his chest. “Surely you wouldn’t throw a man in the brig for an act of noblest courtesy,” at that he draped her jacket over her shoulders while she led the way and proceeded to spin a tale of his own unimpeachable valor as a young sailor. When they reached her dwelling, she turned to face him before heading up.

“Why do you always get it? Nobody gets it.” He raised a brow at her question. “Gets me. Like Neal,” she slurred the name and rolled her eyes. “I have a shitty day at work and he decides to make some weird pass at me through the kid ? But you,” she leaned in and poked Killian in the chest, keeping her index finger pressed against his sternum. “You’re the...the flirty pirate king and you just...throw sharp shit at a wall with me and buy me drinks. You didn’t even check out my ass more than once.”

He absolutely had, but far be it for Killian to correct the lady when this seemed to be going somewhere rather interesting.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she slurred.

Before he could suggest this was likely a bad idea as she would potentially regret whatever her next words were to be, she pulled him down by one of his coat lapels and whispered loudly, “My mom is Snow White, right? So she’s all about ‘true love’ and ‘happily ever after’,” her whisper became what he thought was an imitation of her mother, though he doubted that Snow White had ever been six whiskies and two rums deep.

“So she thinks that Neal is like...my Prince Charming, but here’s the secret: he’s not a prince! He’s a con-man, and he sure as hell isn’t charming. So whoops, Mom! Wrong bet!” She laughed and let go of his coat, poking the end of his nose and whispering something that sounded like the noise boop in the most infuriatingly impossible-to-understand gesture he’s witnessed yet. She gave him a glassy-eyed smile, and in a parting shot that left him speechless, she cupped his cheek and in a much softer tone murmured, “Goodnight, Killian.”

---

The morning arrived after less rest than he’d like, but Killian snapped awake as  the sky first began to turn a dusty rose on the horizon. This was very likely the best mood he’d found himself in for quite some time, and he mused on the past twelve hours as he fiddled with the magic hot-water dispenser until he got the temperature just right. Unlike the Jolly , Granny’s provisions in terms of hygiene were lavish and he assumed they cost her a small fortune if Ruby and the guests enjoyed them as much as he did, but Granny assured him the soaps and amenities were provided, so he took great joy in letting the warm water run over him as he lathered up, breathing in the herbal and lemon scent so unlike the harsh lye soap he was accustomed to. This world without magic had its  charms, and hot water on demand was his latest favorite.

He arrived downstairs for his other new-world favorite - coffee - and Killian was pleased to see Emma already at the counter, though she looked a great deal less chipper than he felt. “Good morning, Swan,” he sauntered up to take a seat at her left. “Beautiful morning, don’t you think?”

She grumbled something about a headache and before Killian could reply, Granny swooped in and all but insisted she sit and have breakfast. Despite her protests, Emma wound up delayed in her arrival to her post that morning as she was cajoled into a substantial pile of eggs, bacon, and toast. “Complain all you want, Sheriff,” Granny eyed her as she set a matching plate before Killian, “but you two need to soak up some of last night’s fun. Now, eat.” After obligingly refilling their mugs with steaming hot coffee, to which Emma added more than a bit of cream and sugar, Granny retreated to another table as the morning rush filled in around them.

They ate in companionable silence until Emma glanced over and opened with, “I beat you at darts, didn’t I?”

“Aye, two wins to my paltry one, Swan. I’m only grateful we chose not to wager more than dinner and drinks on the game, or my pockets would be a great deal more empty.” She smirked at his comment, and the two chatted as they worked through their breakfasts, both seeming to come alive as Granny had predicted.

He should have known it was all going far too well.

The bell above the door chimed, and the bustle of the patrons picking up coffee and pastries on their way to work or leisurely enjoying their breakfasts fell to a whisper. Killian stayed perfectly still as he heard the man limp toward the counter, the gentle thud of his cane giving him away. From the corner of his eye, he saw Emma roll her eyes at his clipped “Miss Swan,” and Killian stayed frozen to the spot, not trusting his reaction in front of the woman who not only was increasingly important in his life--a thought he’d sort out, or studiously avoid, later--but also represented the local law enforcement.

He heard few of the words exchanged between the Crocodile and Granny, though neither appeared pleased to be having the conversation. Instead, his pulse pounded in his head and his vision clouded as he clutched the edge of the counter. Killian had the distinct image of grabbing that gold-topped cane and flipping it, beating the man about the head until nothing recognizable remained. Until the gold handle dripped red. He could leave him on the floor of this place, twitching as the last impulses of his brain forced him to dance to a soundless tune; Killian could simply walk to the Jolly and set sail, free of the memory of this vile excuse for a man.

Except that he could do no such thing. He sat next to the sheriff in a small town diner surrounded by people who already distrusted him to varying degrees. He was trapped in a land that was not his own and had no way-- nor will --to return to his own. He was a captain without a crew, and as his mind raced through the numerous ways he could rid himself of this loathsome creature he knew now was not the time and certainly not the place. Simply put, Killian refused to put Emma in a position where she would be forced to see the darkness that lurked within him. So he let it pass, and let the Crocodile go for today.

It wasn’t long after the disruption that Emma took her leave, and Killian lingered at the counter as he mulled over what to do with his day. Most days he helped Granny with the more physically demanding repairs around the place, but he felt caged and in need of something more challenging.

“Appreciate you not taking his head off in my diner,” Granny remarked banally once the place emptied. “You have any idea what it takes to get blood out of white grout? Oh, don’t look so surprised; nothing smells quite like fear and rage rolled up in one, and I could smell yours from across the damn room.” She waved dismissively and filled two mugs, sliding one to him and keeping the other for herself. “It’s hot chocolate, and you need it. Little liquid comfort never hurt anyone, so drink up and tell me about it.”

He sipped hesitantly, but the woman was certainly right about the comforting power of the elixir before him. Killian thought about his next words as he breathed in the sweet steam from his mug, letting the cup warm his hand as he held it. “You could...smell my emotions?” He felt it best to begin with the obvious inquiry and prolong the tale of his darkest day.

“I could also hear your heart-rate skyrocket the second you knew who came through that door, so I’m guessing there’s some history there. You don’t have to tell me everything, Killian, but I need to know if I can trust you when you’re in here. Gold comes in to collect rent monthly, and every now and again he has lunch as well. I need to know you’re not going to take a kitchen knife to the bastard while I’m serving sandwiches.” She levelled a scrutinizing gaze at him and waited.

Killian set down his mug and scrubbed his hand over his face, realizing he was in need of a shave, then realizing he was further delaying the conversation. He sighed, knowing there was only one right way forward. “I will not spill his blood on your grounds, Granny, not unless he spills mine first. You have my word.” She nodded once, waiting for him to continue. And so he spent the sunny morning explaining how he lost his hand to the Dark One. While Killian left out much of the story of Milah, he could not entirely avoid her role in the tale, explaining simply that the man she knew as Gold had killed the woman Killian loved right in front of his eyes. Granny was sympathetic and asked few questions, letting him choose how much to reveal. It was cathartic, in a way - a chance to tell someone this piece of truth. A chance to be heard.

When they were finished, Granny spoke briefly of her wolfish nature, a truth which Killian enjoyed as it made her acute hearing and perceptiveness make far more sense. “I know your heart-rate also picks up around a certain sheriff,” she added as Killian slipped on his greatcoat, readying himself to find busywork on the Jolly . “And I know hers does around you.” She eyed him closely then, searching for he knew not what. “Be careful with her, Killian. I don’t know everything--I’m not sure anyone does--but I can see enough to know she’s been hurt, and that hurt hasn’t fully healed. In fact, I’m damn sure the source of it just waltzed back into her life.”

He nodded his understanding and left her to her work. Given the woman’s preternatural understanding of her patrons, he was not about to argue. He chewed her words over in his mind repeatedly as he spent the rest of the day checking that everything aboard his beloved Jolly was in tip-top shape. While his life may be constant chaos in this world, at least he could be assured his ship was as perfect as ever.

[that-crow-kid]

to define a way of being

by @galactic-cam (galactic_cam on ao3) for @slothbeans (slothbeans on ao3) in the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

the story is here on ao3

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, background May Parker

Summary: Peter Parker had ADHD. He’d never gotten an official diagnosis, and it’d never been on his medical records. All he had was the vague memory of a doctor at his four-year-old check up recommending he get tested - and then his parents dying before the appointment could be made. He's done his research - there's nothing else it could be. But he'd adjusted, and he was good at school, so it hadn't really mattered all that much.

And then, because the spider bite put its greasy little fingers on everything else, it had to grab that, too.

It had been a rough few days. Well, no, scratch that, a rough few months. 

Peter Parker had ADHD. He’d never gotten an official diagnosis, and it’d never been on his medical records. When he was super little, like, before his parents died little, his pediatrician had told them that he should probably get tested. But then they’d died, less than a week later, and Peter was left with no official diagnosis, just the remnants of a memory of the doctors appointment. He’d reinforced this idea all throughout his life with his own research, but he had never told Ben or May. He figured they had enough to worry about, what with their four-year-old nephew suddenly coming to live with them after Ben’s sister-in-law and brother tragically died in a plane crash and all. 

So he’d just kept quiet. He was incredibly smart, and nobody ever accommodated for him, so he learned to adapt. Maybe not super well, but his grades were stellar despite the ADHD, so nobody ever really cared enough to diagnose or medicate him. 

And then he’d been bitten by the spider and it had gotten worse.

He’d always identified with Percy Jackson’s view of ADHD: You can’t streamline your thoughts because you get much more input. It made sense, and it was kind of how he felt. But then he developed superpowers, and it made more sense than ever before. 

He was getting 15 times the input he’d been getting before, between the super hearing and the super sight. It was pretty useful when he was fighting - if he was ‘focusing’ on one guy, he was also aware of the other guy pulling out a knife from a hidden pocket, and could adjust accordingly. It was not so great for school. It was already hard when you were acutely aware of the people whispering across the room - it was worse when you could actually hear what they were saying, and what the kids in the classrooms next to, across the hall from, above, and below you were all talking about. 

When his grades took a dip, he wasn’t shocked. He was mad at himself, of course, that he was letting his ADHD get in the way when he’d always been able to manage it, and since Peter Parker was good at stuff, there was a massive hit to his ego. He quit most of his after school activities to compensate - he needed to be doing stuff he was good at - and not at school where he was doing sub-par - and the thing he was suddenly good at was fighting crime.

And then Tony Stark had shown up at his door and whisked him away to Germany to steal Captain America’s shield, and his Homecoming had happened, and suddenly he was going to Mr. Stark’s lab in the newly rebought tower twice a week and staying over at the compound once a month.

Mr. Stark’s labs were actually a safe haven. They were sound proof, and Mr. Stark always had loud music playing, and most of the time there was nothing in there that messed with his senses. Mr. Stark worked strangely, jumping around from project to project unless he found one that really grabbed his attention. That style of working really clicked with Peter - he’d always just sat down and tried to do whatever it was he needed to - which had never really worked that well - but working in the lab, bouncing from thing to thing? That was perfect.

Today was different.

Peter had gotten his report card last week, and since it was now Tuesday, that meant he got to be scolded by Mr. Stark now, on top of the disappointment he’d gotten all weekend from May.

See, his grades were bad. Like, really bad.

Well, to a lot of kids, his grades were average, even pretty good. But for Peter Parker, top of the class in one of the country’s best schools, every teacher’s favorite Peter Parker, anything below a 90 was an extreme rarity. Anything below an 80? Where several of his grades were? Gods save the earth, because it was going to implode.

May had mostly been confused, with that constant disappointment rushing through her words. Why had he gotten Cs? He was supposed to be Peter Parker, perfect student, perfect kid. 

And now, Mr. Stark was going to take away his suit. His spider-manning was entirely reliant on his grades staying up, Mr. Stark had been clear on that. And how could he be Tony Stark’s protege if he got Cs? Mr Stark was halfway through his PhD by Peter’s age. 

Today was probably going to be the last time he saw Tony.

That was upsetting -  lab time was the only thing (other than spider-manning) that he looked forward to anymore. He was good at lab time, and Peter Parker was good at stuff. 

Of course, his brain gave a little “not anymore, you’re not.” Which, not cool, his brain was supposed to be on his side.

When he walked into the lab, Mr. Stark wasn’t working on anything, which was unusual, to say the least. He was seated, facing the door, a look of such disappointment on his face. 

Peter’s eyes focused on the floor. Wow, Mr. Stark sure had some nice tile under the epoxy that covered his lab floor. How could Peter have never noticed before?

“Peter.”

Tony’s voice startled him a bit, even though he knew that was why he’d been looking at the floor in the first place.

“Hey, Mr. Stark! How are you today? I’m really great. What are we working on today?” His sentences all came out in a rush, barely leaving any space between the words.

When he glanced up, Mr. Stark was looking at him, a smirk of amusement was tilting his lips, even though the rest of his face was still etched with disappointment. 

“What happened

Peter shrugged, eyes going back to looking at the floor.

“C’mon Kid, I need an actual answer. I know you’ve been doing all your work, and I know you’ve been home by curfew, unless you’ve hacked your suit again and convinced Karen to lie to me about it. So why’re your grades so low?”

“I- I don’t know.”

“Peter, you are the worst liar in the world.”

Peter sighed. “I know.”

“So? What happened?”

Peter glanced up. He looked at his mentor’s face, expecting disappointment, but instead he found… worry? And maybe curiosity?

“I have ADHD.”

“What? That’s not in your medical files -”

“I know, it’s not an official diagnosis. I was going to get one when I was little but… my appointment was after the plane crash, and…”

“You never did.”

“I never did. And I adjusted, kept my grades high, and nobody ever thought I could possibly have ADHD.”

“So what happened here?”

“The spider bite. It was always hard having ADHD because I noticed so much, but there’s a difference between being aware that the kids in the back of the room are talking and being able to hear what the class on the other side of the school is discussing with perfect clarity.”

Tony nodded. “I can only imagine.”

“But so my focus and participation went down, as did the quality of any work I did anywhere but in here.”

“Peter, why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Peter shrugged, but he knew the answer. He didn’t want Mr. Stark to think badly of him. How could he, Tony Stark’s protege, have ADHD?

Tony sighed. “Kid, did you know I have ADHD?” Now that caught Peter’s attention. He abruptly looked up. “What?”

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, kid. Dear old dad paid a lot to cover that up. And I wasn’t nearly as good at hiding it as you. I was all the way hyperactive, and Dad refused to medicate me. Told me to get over it, or that he wasn’t going to fuel a drug addiction in his son. His excuse changed.”

“But - But you were so good at school!”

“Dad paid off MIT to keep them quiet, but I assure you kid, I failed… several classes..”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

There was a quick beat.

“So, kid, what do you want to do about it?”

Peter, who’s eyes had refound their way to the floor, snapped back up to Tony. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you want to get a professional diagnosis? See a therapist? I’ve been meaning to rope you into therapy for a while now, this might just be the perfect way to start.”

“No - No, Mr. Stark! I don’t need therapy!”

“You might not need it yet - which I doubt, considering you fight crime in New York and I’ve seen you have several panic attacks - but all of the avengers go, and you’re an avenger-in-training. Gotta get you ahead of the game, kid.”

Peter sighed. “Fine. Okay, Mr. Stark.”

Tony pulled him into a brief hug, then slapped his back. “Brilliant, I’ll get on that for you later. For now, though, you wanna do something fun?”

Peter smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds -”

“Fun?” Tony broke in, a smile dancing across his face.

“Fun.”

[grayfilmsandstuff]

hi um i wasn't able to find anything stating matchups were closed and i finally mustered up the courage to ask gkdhfkdhf

could i get a madcom matchup? i'm bpoc, about 5'6 with black hair w/ blue dye and it's super curly (3c). i typically wear it out since it's getting pretty long.

i have adhd and did but i don't open up abt it much + i'm friendly but really soft spoken if that makes sense? i'm not rlly shy but i don't have v much to say so i'm just kinda There most of the time. i have issues relating to people emotionally too so i'm a pretty bad help if someone's upset but like...i'll try?? effectiveness may vary tho lmao.

i'm rlly tech savvy and coding is a hobby of mine since i'm a CS major so In Theory i'd make a decent hacker

i rlly like horror movies/games and just video games in general, it's where most of my art inspo comes from! i'm super into cosplay too and love working on props. i also play the bass and i get super excited when anyone is willing to listen to me talk about my interests hehehe

ty in advance! :0

yes yes hello hi! very glad you mustered up the courage bravo to you my friend

i match you wiiiiiiith...

Deimos!

- you used to work for the Auditor as someone who took care of and fixed computers and you were basically there as tech support. you hated your job though because Auditor treated you like garbage, so when you found Deimos struggling to get into one of the system's computers, you helped him out

- now Deimos isn't the only one on the team with tech smarts! woohoo!

- he LOVES your curly hair. he thinks it's gorgeous and he loves how bouncy it is, but he's always careful when playing with it because he knows how hard it is to maintain

- he doesn't fully understand how DID/systems work but he loves you enough to try his best to learn more about it

- he thinks you're the cutest thing. ever. you're only slightly shorter than he is, him being 5'7, but he doesn't mind in the slightest

- you don't do the best with helping out emotionally, but he doesn't either. his way of telling people he cares about them a lot of the time is by messing with them. but if either of you actually have a problem, you'll go to each other and listen for as long as the other needs

- whenever you're on missions, you're usually the one who does the tech stuff and Deimos thanks you greatly for it. if you ever fight together, you make a great team because you have each other's backs

- Deimos scares very easily so if you ever play a horror game together and you get jumpscared he will SCREAM and cling onto you for his life. you think it's cute though

- if it's not a horror game you're playing, he's very competitive so he's going to try so so hard to beat you. if he does, he rubs it in. if he doesn't, you probably rub it in but not nearly as aggressively as he does

- you'll walk up to where he's sitting and mess with his hair, giving him a kiss on the cheek

- "it's okay Dei, next time i'm sure you won't crash into a lamppost and fall into last place"

- "...sh-shut up"

- he loves helping you with your cosplays! only if you tell him what to do, of course, but he'll still do his best to help! watching you make these huge, intricate costumes is so fascinating to him

- Deimos is actually quite musical too, so sometimes you'll play together, you on bass and him either on acoustic guitar or drums. the sound of his voice is so pretty

- whenever you talk about your interests he just melts because the sound of your voice when you're passionate about something is so so cute

here you go friend!! im sure you knew exactly who you were gonna get when you added the tech savvy bit hehe

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 10: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (3/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 1724

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was originally posted in 2014

‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

Killian surged forward, lips crashing against hers, body pressing her to the immutable surface of her apartment door, arms binding her to him.

Good thing too.  At the touch of his lips against hers, the sensation of his tongue seeking entrance, the feel of his heart racing beneath her hand trapped between them, Emma sagged and her knees threatened to buckle altogether.

Emma opened for him, moaning his name as his tongue came to tangle with hers.  She rose to her toes, threading her fingers through his hair, seeking to bring him ever closer, they would never be close enough. 

Her apartment complex was normally a busy bustling place, but tonight, at 11:30 on Christmas Eve night, it was as empty as Gold’s black heart.  Just as well.  The way she and Killian were going at it, anyone passing by was liable to get quite the show—and definitely not one suited to children.

With a groan Killian pulled away, but Emma was having none of it.  She wasn’t done kissing him yet; not nearly.  She chased his lips with her own, giving her pirate no quarter.

“Emma,” he moaned, as he gave up all attempts at resistance and met her head on.

They’d just returned from the town Christmas party at Granny’s.  Her mom had really outdone herself with that one.  The food, laughter and eggnog flowed abundantly.  Everyone seemed to have imbibed the Christmas spirit, buoyed, no doubt by the fact that they’d gone a full month without a villain in sight. 

It seemed Killian had enjoyed his first Christmas party.  He’d particularly enjoyed the dirty Santa gift exchange, throwing himself into the spirit of the game with wild abandon.  He’d put his pirate skills to good use, stealing one after another of his neighbors’ gifts.  Emma suspected it was more for the thrill of mayor-sanctioned theft than it was for the actual gifts he’d gained.  She laughingly said as much to him as he gleefully stole a bottle of lavender-scented bath salts from under Ruby’s very nose.

“You’re really going to tell me you want girly bath salts?” she’d teased.

“And why not?” he’d asked with a wicked gleam in his eyes.  “I happen to be well aware that you favor the scent of lavender.  It was my hope that were I to acquire these salts I might persuade you to…um…help me put them to use.”

When all was said and done, Killian had been left with a gift certificate for free dinner at Granny’s for a week.  She….well, she’d made a last minute swap for the bath salts, a fact that made Killian’s eyes light up like a kid let loose in a candy shop.

When the party broke up, Killian walked her back to her apartment door where he was currently kissing her so thoroughly she could barely remember her own name.

After long moments, Killian pulled away and then rested his forehead against hers.  “Best we slow down love,” he said breathlessly.  “Much longer, and we’re bound to start a conflagration that will consume this entire building.”

“Yeah,” she said, equally breathless.  “But what a way to go.”

He laughed and took a step back.  “I suppose it’s time I take my leave.  You’re to be at your parents’ bright and early tomorrow for Christmas morning festivities.”

Emma took hold of the lapels of Killian’s coat and gave him another quick peck.  “You mean we’re to be at my parents’ bright and early.”

He looked suddenly uncertain.  “I don’t wish to impose.  It is after all a family event.”

Emma shook her head, her heart turning over with tenderness for this man.  “When are you going to learn that you are family?  We all want you there, and I, well, I’d really miss you if you bailed on us.  Besides, if you don’t join us for Christmas morning, when am I going to get to give you my gift?”

“You bought me a gift?”  His voice was awestruck.

“Of course!  I have a feeling you’re going to like it too.”

Emma knew how much he enjoyed reading.  His cabin on the Jolly Roger had been practically covered, floor to ceiling with books.  She’d bought him as many of this realm’s pirate tales and stories as she could get her hands on.

“There’s no doubt of that, love,” he said gently.  “I have a gift for you as well, but I have been assured that Christmas is the day for gift giving.  It would be quite bad form to spoil my surprise the night before.”

“All the more reason to join us in the morning.”

His smile turned infinitely tender, and he cupped her cheek.  “I’d love to be there, Swan.  Which is, of course, why I’d best take my leave so that you can get your rest for the big day.”

Emma’s eyes flitted away from his for a moment before focusing back on him.  “Stay with me tonight?  Henry’s staying with Regina, and, well, no one should have to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Killian dragged in a ragged breath.  “I’d be honored to spend the remainder of Christmas Eve with you.

Emma unlocked her apartment, gave Killian another quick kiss and then waved him in behind her.  “Go ahead and plug in the tree; maybe see about starting a fire.  I’ll make us some cocoa.”

After their conversation in the woods, Killian and Henry had tag teamed her until she’d agreed to just about every Christmas tradition Henry could think of.  The three of them had bought and cut down a Christmas tree, decorated the thing within an inch of its life (Killian’s hook being surprisingly handy in the endeavor), hung all three of their stockings by the chimney with care, and baked and decorated what felt like enough Christmas cookies for the entire town.  When Killian learned of the tradition of sending people Christmas cards, he’d even convinced her to send the damn things out—complete with a photo of the three of them sitting before the fire, steaming mugs of cocoa in hand, the lit tree in the background.

It was cheesy as hell.

She loved it.

She finished preparing their drinks—which for her consisted of boiling water and pouring it over packets of cocoa mix—and then headed for the living room.

“Well, you’ve made good use of your time,” she said with a smile.  The tree was lit, a roaring fire crackled in the hearth, and a smug pirate sat on the rug before it, surrounded by pillows.

“I aim to please darling.” 

She sat beside him, depositing their cocoa on the end table and settling in his waiting arms.

“I do believe you’re forgetting something, love,” he said, mischief in every syllable.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Look and see for yourself.”

Emma sat up and stifled a laugh.  The idiot sat before her holding the largest sprig of mistletoe she’d ever seen.  She leaned forward and kissed him playfully.  “You’re insatiable.”

“Aye,” he said, returning the kiss with exuberance, “but you wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Without warning, it all crashed over her once again.  She’d nearly lost him.  His heart had nearly been crushed in front of her, and she’d been powerless to stop it.  The memory made her start to shake, and Emma clung to Killian so tightly he’d end up with bruises in the morning.  She buried her face in his neck and breathed him in, her hand slipping beneath his shirt to rest over his heart.  She needed this; she needed the confirmation that he was still there, that his heart was still where it belonged.

“Emma, love,” he said, rubbing her back, “is something the matter?”

Emma forced herself to sit up and look him in the eye.  If nearly losing him had taught her anything, it was that every day with this man was a gift—a gift that could be snatched from her at any moment.  The fact that he might have died not knowing, not truly knowing how she felt about him was like a slap to the face.   She needed to remedy that.  Immediately.  Emma was terrified to say the words, but it was time; it was far past time.

“Killian, I…I just need you to know something.”

“Very well, Swan,” he said hesitantly, “you do know there is nothing you cannot tell me, do you not?”

“Yeah,” She took a deep breath and then plunged in.  “It’s just that…well, I don’t know how to do this but just come out and say it:  I love you.  I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.  It scares the hell out of me, but, well, I just needed you to know.  Whatever happens, no matter how many evil villains try to tear us apart, I needed you to know.  I need you to…”

He leaned forward and captured her lips, effectively cutting off what was threatening to turn into babbling.  This kiss was different, soft, gentle, unhurried.  Emma reached up between them and caressed his face with gentle strokes.  This was right.  This man was it for her.  If he’d died up there in the clock tower she didn’t know how she’d ever have survived it.”

“I love you too,” he whispered as he finally pulled away.  “Until the end of time, I’ll love you. With every breath I take, every beat of my heart, I love you. There’ll never be another for me but you.”

She grinned against his chest.  “Better not be.”

“No other lass stands the ghost of a chance against you.  I swear to be unfailingly true to you until I take my last breath and long, long after.”

“I know,” she said tremulously.  “And you can expect the same from me.”

He gathered her back into her arms and they sat in silence for some time.  When he spoke again, the teasing note was back in his voice.  “So, Swan, how do you propose we while away the rest of this Christmas Eve?”

She sat back and gave him a grin.  “Well, I was thinking we could resume that make out session we had going on outside…and then we could, kind of, see where that takes us.”

“That, Swan, is the best idea you’ve had all year.”

NEXT CHAPTER-->

[narutsuart]

Updated Three Houses Top 10 Females List:

Just in time for International Women’s Day! I’ve been working on revising my list as much as possible in light of revisiting Three Houses, playing Ashen Wolves, and rethinking my love for each female character I put on my last list. I will this time do the my list from Tenth place to First place. Just a heads up my # 1 one spot has not changed so don’t expect some crazy surprise there.

Disclaimer: please don’t flame me or comment about how “WRONG” I am it’s just my personal opinion or preference. BE NICE! and maybe reblog or comment your favorite list if you’d like?

#10: Shamir:

My opinion Shamir literally has not changed. She is just a cool character, I love how despite her debt to Rhea she isn’t kissing Rhea’s ass like Catherine or Ciril. Did I mention I really don’t like them lol? She’s badass and she has an excellent character design. Perfect blend of sexy and badass.

#9. Bernadetta:

Bernie dropped another spot going from 8th to 9th. I still have an abundance of love for Bernie, and I want to protect her at all cost. I still hold the opinion that while she’s an absolutely hilarious character, she can still get repetitive and stale pretty fast upon replays. That being said when I was thinking of characters that might potentially drop to below my top ten I couldn’t reasonably see myself dropping her out of my top 10, as Bernie is still a genuinely enjoyable character, and I do have a soft spot for her.

#8. Sothis:

Unfortunately Sothis dropped down a bit no fault of her own, simply because I enjoy the ladies above her more. That being said I really do enjoy Sothis. Even though our time is brief with her, I really do love the snarky little goddess. It’s funny, last time I made this list I had gotten her Christmas altand expressed my excitement, but I didn’t have her Mythic version(aka original version). I just recently I finally got lucky, and pulled her Mythic version!

#7 Dorothea:

AHHH THE PITCH FORKS!! I’M SO SORRY!! I know! I know! WTF?! I honestly any think of a perfectly justifiable reason as to why Dorothea has dropped so low on my list. She went from 4th place to 7th place for those that don’t remember. I honestly feel disgusting for putting her so low....I absolutely adore her character, her design is absolutely stunning, and I still enjoy most of her supports, but honestly I can’t justify putting her any higher than the women above her on this list. Like many who have dropped lower in placement it’s of no fault of her own. I just happened to realize I love the women above her more. I still believe deserves all the happiness, love and care that she desires!

#6. Hapi:

Hapi is such a fucking gem, I don’t know if it’s just the dub but Hapi’s dialogue is just so ahead of its time period and I love it so much lol. She has some of the funniest quotes and her habit for nicknaming everyone is hilarious. I’m aware that it’s not a trait unique to her, but I’m of the opinion that her nicknames far surpasses Dorothea’s nicknames. Now if we we’re talking strictly design Hapi would place 4th out of entire female cast for me, and that’s impressive feat since Three Houses has an abundance of amazing designs. In fact if I was strictly talking design a lot of the placements on this list would actually change. For example Hapi would actually rank above Constance for me in terms of design, but is trumped by Constance in terms of character. I might do a separate list for “best” designs in the near future.

#5. Rhea:

I KNOW ITS BLASPHEMY I STILL have both Edelgard and Rhea in my top 5?!! As those who saw my last list can see Rhea’s placement has not changed. I love Rhea so much is because she’s the perfect foil to Edelgard. Rhea is an excellenty written character with a lot of emotional depth. She acts as a perfect foil for Edelgard’s character they are so similar yet so different. It also makes sense that she and Edelgard’s ideals would come to clash. I’m of the opinion that if Edelgard and Rhea just talked about their views it still would still not end well. Rhea sage guarded her fabricated history of Fódlan for a thousand years and would not just tell the truth because Edelgard called her out. She would’ve branded Edelgard a heretic and have her executed. That type of tranquil furry is honestly unsettling and I LOVE it. Btw the only reason she tells the truth in CS and VW is because in CS she doesn’t think she has much time left, and in VW she doesn’t have much time left and chaos is marching on Fódlan’s door. Likewise Edelgard would sympathize with Rhea’s past if she told the truth, but would insist that Rhea step down from power or tell the truth to the world which would still lead to conflict. I personally agree with Edelgard vision for Fodlan more, and personally think Rhea is unstable, and worst SOLE leader for Fodlan, but neither are evil people and I can empathize with their motives and reasons for doing the morally grey things they do. Neither of them “do nothing wrong” like people claim and in fact do a LOT wrong. It’s those wrong things they do that makes them intriguing characters, and more relatable. They also both have the potential to do so many good things for Fódlan depending on the route.

#4. Constance:

GOOD LORD Costance is truly a one of a kind. I was pro Constance since her design was first revealed in the Cindered Shadows DLC trailer. That being said never did I envision loving her THIS much! Her motivations are easily understandable, and her fall from grace makes even more sad when you realize that haughty attitude that she almost always has on display is due to her compensating for her lack of status. Constance is one of the funniest characters in the game to me and she came out AFTER the game lol. She’s an incredibly intelligent prodigy when it comes to all things magic yet she has this naivety that people are able to exploit like Yuri with the “bootlicking nobles” phrase. She takes it so literal that she tries it out for her self, and tries to make a way for the boots to taste better making it easier to lick their boots......I CANT EVEN!!... honestly Constance could top this list if it weren’t for her split personality..... don’t get me wrong her split personality when in sunlight can be funny every now and then, but honestly it does more harm to her character then helps it in my opinion. Her change in personality when in sunlight is implied that to be because of the trauma of the fall of House Nuevelle, but we never get any real explanation for it or anything implying she can overcome it. Its not expanded upon, and never treated seriously. In fact it’s played for laughs and it’s something people just accept as Constance just being Constance. I honestly felt Constance C rank support with Ferdinand was done so well. She calls him out for his usually insensitive comments about status and makes him regret his words immediately. I had so much respect for her in that moment, come the b-rank support she acts all submissive and praises the ground he walks on....which ruined the c-rank support for me tbh. That being said, as you can see based off her placement this trait of hers doesn’t ruin the character for me, just keeps her from being higher.

#3. Petra:

On a much lighter note, Petra is my 3rd favorite! If you notice she has dropped down from my second favorite spot. This is due to no fault of her own I, just happened to realize that I loved my number 2 spot more. With that being said Petra has still gotten the victory! Like I mentioned in my first list, Petra is just a delight. I love how she’s so dedicated, and always willing to learn. Funnily enough my initial expectation for Petra’s character pre-release was vastly different then what her actual character ended up being. She’s one of those character’s who’s design got revealed MUCH earlier than any details about her personality and her design gave me the impression that she was the aloof, intimidating, and serious type that doesn’t have time for making friends or fun. I don’t know if anyone else got this impression, but obviously I was wrong! Petra truly does remind me a lot of Starfire from the original 2003 Teen Titans tv show and kinda re-awakens that childhood cartoon crush in me lol. Petra is just awesome there’s not a single support I don’t like of her.

#2. Marianne

Now if you saw my old list you probably noticed that Marianne moved up a bit. Naturally I still love her design(I’m a sucker for light blue hair I think lol), but upon revisiting Three Houses I realized that leaving Marianne at 3rd place somehow didn’t feel adequate. Funnily enough she was technically the first person I S-ranked in Three Houses due to locking myself out of the Crimson Flower Route on accident. Honestly she has become my favorite character to S-rank in Three Houses even more so than my number one spot! Anyway my love for Marianne is very different for most character’s as she is one I feel can really relate to on very personal and emotional level. I’m gonna get real for a minute. I honestly I had been in bad place in my life recently. I had been feeling like the world has been crashing down on me. I have plenty of things to be happy for yet I often felt depressed. I’d often had “friends” call me out, saying I have no reason to be depressed, or that I have been blessed with so many things, and while I agree I’m very blessed, they couldn’t understand how I felt, as all they could provide was the view of an outsider looking in. While the action of suicide was something I never considered, I’d had been contemplating the value of my life or if it was really worth living. First want to clarify that I’m in MUCH better headspace than I was then. I definitely feel like I’m getting better. I have my ups and downs, but I’m currently making better friendships, I’m actively getting the help I need! I’ve always sympathized with Marianne, but now I can say that I really empathize with Marianne. When we take things at face value she seemingly had everything going for her, being brought up into the nobility, trained for success, and even having an extremely rare crest. By all means to an outsider looking in she had every reason to be happy. Of course while all these things sound nice especially in the context of the story they are in actuality a source for her depression. In her C-rank support with Ferdinand we see his confusion as to why Marianne dislikes being a part of the nobility. This support is one of the few times she expresses real anger, and is when expresses she never got to have what she saw as a normal life, she never wanted to be a part of the nobility and the weight and the expectations of being nobility was crushing her, as she had to adhere to standards of those around her. She was also taught to fear her crest as curse, so the blessing many commoners would be estatic to receive was thing she deemed as a curse. Over the course of the story and through her supports, Marianne begins to learn how to be more accepting of herself and gain more self-confidence. Naturally her timeskip appearance reflects this. She looks well-rested, expressive, and she genuinely seems more happy. I will never forget In her A-support with Byleth, that over the course of 5 years she had abandoned her depression and suicidal thoughts thanks to the genuine and long lasting friendship‘s she’s made and that she managed to uncover the truth of her heritage, and overcome the fear and hatred of her Crest. Her character arc is a very powerful thing to me, and is also example of what makes the 5 year timeskip so great. In addition to her character arc Marianne is just so cute, don’t get me stated on how adorable her habit of talking to animals is! Marianne is a fucking fantastic character and I love her so much.

EDIT: So I wanted to clarify that if I’m being honest Marianne and #1 spot are technically both tied as #1 me, and are so for very different reasons. For the sake of creating a Top 10 and to avoid a cop out list I chose to put her at second. To me Marianne is “BEST GIRL”. She’s my favorite female character to marry, she’s most endearing to me, she has like my third favorite female character design in all of Fire Emblem, and I relate to her on an emotional level. That being said this next character is “BEST CHARACTER” I like more for her role in the story, how her character is written, and how she was designed. Despite this I do not marry her NEARLY as often as Marianne. While I ship her with F! Byleth(OTP!) she’s not someone I personally would persue romantically. In other words Marianne is more my type and I tend to be biased with her while this next character is female character that I feel is the BEST WRITTEN and the female character I respect the most out of the cast.

#1. Edelgard:

Upon revisiting Fire Emblem Three Houses story as well as playing the Cindered Shadows DLC, nothing has changed, in fact my love and resolve for Edelgard has only been strengthened. I made a huge in depth posts for Edelgard a while back explaining her past, motives, and reasons for what she does. The posts had spanned multiple reblogs of details and clarification and I went over the typing limit in every single one. I won’t divulge further into all that. Like I mentioned last time I created my top ten list, aside from her being IN MY OPINION one of the best written female protagonists in Fire Emblem history, I absolutely love her design, its probably one of my favorite designs in all of Fire Emblem. That being said, If I had to say while she’s definitely close, she doesn’t have my all time number one favorite design, that spot goes to Azura from Fire Emblem Fates. Edelgard will always be my favorite Three Houses female character no matter what and I’m so happy she was brought into existence!

Well that’s my revised list, I had a lot of fun writing this list and I hope it was enjoyable for you guys to read as well! I would really love it if you guys comment or reblog with your own list of favorite Three House females! Y’know what?! Comment or reblog with your list of favorite females in the entire Fire Emblem franchise if you’d like! I’m very interested in seeing your lists Happy International Women’s Day!

[let-it-raines]

Life Meant Nothing Until You Used My Toothbrush (1/1)

If asked, Emma Swan would easily tell anyone that Killian Jones is her best friend. He makes her laugh, knows all of her favorites movies, and most importantly, he knows how she takes her coffee. Then again, he does own the diner she frequents every single day. 

But they’re just friends. That’s all. It doesn’t matter how many people in the quirky small town of Storybrooke think otherwise. They are not going to date. That’d just be weird, especially considering Killian is her brother’s best friend too. It’s simply not happening. 

Emma is very obviously a liar. 

Rating: Mature

A/N: Not a single one of my stories for @csseptembersunshine is the original fic that I planned on sharing, but inspiration strikes in weird ways! Inspiration for this little thing came from the hope for fall to be here and the obligatory watching of Gilmore Girls (obviously ignoring season seven and the revival lol) when that happens ❤️

Thanks to @captainsjedi for being a sweetheart and organizing this event!

Found on AO3 | Here |

Tag list: @kmomof4 @snowbellewells ​@tiganasummertree @xellewoods @galaxyzxstark @thejollyroger-writer @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven  @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @a-faekindagirl  @searchingwardrobes @ultimiflos @jamif @dreameronarooftop15 @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @superchocovian @ultraluckycatnd @cs-forlife @andiirivera @qualitycoffeethings @jonirobinson64 @mariakov81 @shireness-says

-/-

“Coffee.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I need coffee.”

“You need to drink three bottles of water and eat about sixteen servings of fruit.”

Emma taps her coffee cup and holds it up in the air. “I need another serving of coffee.”

Killian narrows his eyes at her, the blue disappearing into black slits that are full of trepidation and suspicion as he looks between her face and her coffee mug. She knows that she’s already had two cups – two very large cups – but she spent all last night talking Ruby through her breakup with Victor and eating copious amounts of ice cream so that she desperately needs coffee before she walks across the street and has to sit in her office all day staring at a computer screen as she writes an article for the Storybrooke paper on the paving of the high school parking lot.

Riveting.

But actually boring, and she needs to be on a caffeine high right now so that she can at least make it for the next few hours before she inevitably crashes looking up the density and lifespan of whatever type of concrete they’re using.

It was debated at the town council meeting, but she can’t remember. She usually zones out of those too.

Top-notch reporting from her.

“Fine,” Killian grumbles in his usual cheery-morning tone of voice before he takes the cup out of her hand. For someone who owns a diner and is literally tasked with making charming small talk all day, he doesn’t really turn on the charms for her. Then again, why in the world would he turn on the charms for his best friend’s younger sister? That would just be weird. “But I’m giving you a takeout bag with a salad and some fruit, and I want you to check in with me to show me just how much water you’ve been drinking, aye?”

“You are ridiculous.”

He doesn’t respond to that, taking her mug away, and it’s then that she realizes that he’s taking her mug away instead of refilling it with coffee. The asshole is trying to get away without giving her another cup.

“Hey,” Emma calls out, getting up from her table and following him behind the counter, “what are you doing with my mug?”

“I’m getting you – oh bloody hell,” Killian mutters when he sees her behind the counter, and he immediately puts the mug down on the back counter and places his hands on her hips to walk her out back to the open side of the restaurant. “How many times do we have to talk about the fact that you are not allowed behind the counter?”

“I think around seventeen times, and then I’ll have it memorized.”

Killian rolls his eyes, but there’s a playful smile tugging on his lips that has Emma marking a mental checkmark in her win column of this little back and forth game that they play.

“I’m getting you a to-go cup because I know you have to be at work soon, and I wouldn’t want you to be late. It is such a far walk, you know?”

“It’s like I’m running a marathon every time.”

“Exactly.” Killian places his hand on the small of her back and moves her forward. “Go sit down, and I’m going to bring everything out to you before I have to take care of my actual paying customers.”

“That’s not fair. I’ve told you I would pay.”

“You don’t get to pay, love. It’s your own special discount.”

Emma shrugs her shoulders before pressing up on her toes and kissing Killian’s cheek. “Thanks, Jones. I want – ”

“Hazelnut creamer, I know.”

When Emma leaves the diner ten minutes later, to-go cup and brown paper bag full of healthy food in hand, she steps out the door and into the crisp fall air that has her taking a deep breath and taking it all in. Fall in Storybrooke is a magical time. Even thinking that, she knows that it’s cheesy, but she doesn’t care. There have been so many horrible things that have happened in her life, rough childhood and bad breakups that have left emotional scars that might as well be tattooed on her skin, and if she wants to be someone who simply loves when the leaves begin to change to hues of gold and red that fall to the ground so that there’s a constant crunching under her boots when she walks, she can.

And Storybrooke, well, Storybrooke is special.

It took her leaving for college and living in Boston for four years to realize that, but she did realize it.

Eventually.

This place is full of quirky characters, ones that she still can’t quite believe are real (some of them seem so much like fairytale characters that she has to blink a few times to make sure this is actually real life) and little ticks and oddities that probably exist in every small town in America but feel like they’re entirely unique to this town. Seriously, they have a festival for everything. Last week there was one because the nuns found their lost cat.

Weird but surprisingly fun.

In the middle of November, there’s a festival that celebrates the founding of the town, and there’s all kinds of booths full of games and a big firepit with a s’mores bar and all of the spiked hot chocolate in the world. Okay, so the spiked hot chocolate isn’t for everyone, but Granny makes hot chocolate and Killian brings his flask of rum and pours a heavy dosage into her mug.

Bless him for providing her with all of her liquid needs.

Wait. That sounds weird, but it’s true.

And that festival is just in the middle of the Halloween bash and then Thanksgiving, which always seems to be a town-wide event instead of something they do with all of their individual families. That’s a blessing in disguise because her family involves her brother, his wife Mary Margaret, Mary Margaret’s dad, and Mary Margaret’s evil stepmother.

Emma shudders at just the thought of that, but she pushes it down, takes a deep breath, and walks across the street to go to the newspaper’s office so that she can write the damn article on the concrete.

What a life.

-/-

“Em,” David asks from the kitchen in his loft, “do you want a beer?”

“Do you have any wine?”

“It’s the first day of October, which means we’re celebrating Oktoberfest, which means beer.”

“Technically,” Killian starts from his spot on the couch next to her, “they start Oktoberfest in September, so we’re about ten days late to the party.”

“Shut up, Quiz-master Jones. You don’t have to be a know-it-all.”

“Boys,” Mary Margaret scolds, “be nice.”

“Oh no,” Ruby sighs, very literally popping a piece of popcorn into her mouth, “let them keep going at it. I think it would be pretty hot to have them punch each other.”

Emma throws up in her mouth a little, poking a finger at her tongue to let everyone know it, before shifting her legs on the couch so that she can prop her feet up in Killian’s lap and let him massage her through her socks. She doesn’t even have to ask. She simply wiggles her toes and voila – he knows.

Like magic.

“First of all, that is my brother you’re talking about there.”

“Adopted brother so no actual genetic relationship,” Ruby corrects.

“Still brother,” Emma whines with disgust as Killian’s magical fingers start working at the arches of her foot. “And Killian is basically a brother and – ow shit,” she groans, propping herself up to look at Killian where he absolutely just murdered her foot. “What the hell was that for?”

His jaw ticks for a moment before a shit-eating grin graces his face. “Sorry? It was an accident.”

“You are a liar.”

“I most certainly am not, Swan.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.”

“I am not,” he teases, waggling his brows across his forehead, “and I’ll have you know that I do look hot while throwing punches. Or at least that’s what the woman who hit on me at the gym last week said.”

Her stomach churns, probably in want of the Chinese food that is currently on the way to the loft, and she ignores it in favor of kicking her foot out at Killian only for him to hold her still.

“When did you get time to go to the gym? You are literally always in the diner.”

“I go in the mornings.”

“The mornings? You open at five.”

“I go to the gym at four.”

“Huh,” Emma sighs, glancing over at him. “So there are secretly really buff muscles under all of that plaid?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes slant at him, wondering what exactly would be the best way for her to answer his question, and there’s a witty retort on her tongue when Ruby speaks.

“Hell, you two need to get a room and bang all of this sexual tension out before we all implode.”

“Talk about gross,” David groans, bottles of beer clanking in his hands that he passes over to everyone. She kind of wants to press the cold glass to her cheeks to cool them down since they’re absolutely flaming right now at the thought of all of that. “Killian sleeping with my sister is a far grosser thought than you saying it would be attractive for me and Killian to punch each other.”

“And just what about that is gross, David?” Emma questions, tugging her feet out of Killian’s lap since he’s stopped massaging them. “I am almost twenty-eight years old. I have sex.”

“With who?”

“Okay, now that’s getting a little personal,” Killian says in between several loud coughs. “We are all sexual human beings who think sex is great, but we don’t have to know who is sleeping with who. Unless, of course, we’re talking about Dave and Mary Margaret since they are obviously sleeping with each other.”

David mock gasps, so dramatic that Emma has to laugh underneath her breath and tuck her cheek into the couch cushions at her brother’s actions.

“Who told you that? I thought it was a secret.”

“I think the wedding rings gave it away, mate.”

“Damn,” Mary Margaret curses as she twists off the top to her beer and takes a sip, “we’ve been foiled. I knew we couldn’t keep the secret for that long.”

“You guys are disgustingly cute, and I hate it,” Ruby groans, sinking further into the recliner and pulling the gray knitted blanket up further over her legs. “Love is dumb, and you guys are dumb for finding it and being all happy.”

“Still upset about Victor then, love?” Killian question as he reaches over and takes Emma’s beer out of her hands and opens it for her since the damn twist top didn’t seem to be working. “He’s a certified asshole, and you deserve better.”

“Oh, believe me, I know that,” Ruby says with all of the confidence in the world, something the girl is never lacking. “It was just really, really  good sex.”

“But not a love connection?”

“No,” she sighs, “not a love connection. It’s…I mean, it’s dumb, you know? I have never been someone who needed a relationship. I still don’t. But there’s something nice about the idea of having someone around who I can talk to about things, honestly talk about things, but then also give me mind-blowing orgasms. Is that too much to ask?”

Emma tilts her beer back so that the cool liquid hits her lips. “Depends. Have you met men in general? They’re kind of lacking in those departments.”

“Okay,” David sighs, clapping his hands together, “let’s move on. What game do you guys want to play tonight?”

“Shit happens,” Emma and Killian both say at once, each of them reaching forward to high five the other. “You picked last time, and it is my birthday month so it’s my turn.”

“You don’t even like your birthday.”

“I do when I can use it to my advantage like this.”

“Fine,” David sighs, walking over to the television stand and opening up the cabinet where they keep the games. “We’ll play Shit Happens.”

-/-

October passes in a quick breath of chilled Maine air that has Emma layering up on sweaters and her far too many jackets and a couple of flannel shirts that she’s pretty sure she borrowed from Killian and never gave back.

(They’re super comfortable and soft and smell like cinnamon, so she’s definitely not giving them back now.)

Work is busy, as always, and Emma continues to spend her days sitting at a desk writing up silly articles about what’s going on in town and very occasionally something of substance like the economic ramifications of a new gas station on the outskirts of the town line. One day maybe she’ll find something different to write, one of those articles that ends up in the New Yorker or the Wall Street Journal and everyone becomes angry with it and sends her hate mail over it, but for now, she’s good with this. It’s relaxing to be able to slam her fingers against a keyboard and create something from nothing when she was very much used to having nothing growing up in foster homes throughout the state of Maine.

Well, it was only three, but it always felt like more.

And then there was sweet Ruth Nolan who adopted her at seventeen, right before Emma’s eighteenth birthday, because she wanted Emma to know that she was never too old to find a family and to be able to keep that family forever. The forever part always felt like a cruel joke when Ruth unexpectedly passed two years later, but Emma will always have David. She’s never been surer of anything than that.

But she’s also sure of the fact that on days when the articles simply aren’t writing themselves from her office, she can walk across the street and around the town square to go into Killian’s diner and bug him while he’s in the middle of the late lunch rush. She used to do this with Granny at her diner, but then Granny very legitimately kicked her out for causing too many distractions with Ruby because they’d talk too much, and she’s only allowed to come back during non-busy times.

(Emma always goes whenever.)

Right now, though, she can’t focus on this preview article for this year’s town-wide haunted house for Halloween, so she closes down her laptop and picks it up before telling Sydney that she’s going out to do research. He knows that it’s a lie. He can always very clearly see her across the street sitting at a barstool, but he never says anything unless she misses her deadline.

She never misses her deadline.

The bell over the door rings when she walks in, and Killian doesn’t even acknowledge her presence. She knows it’s because he most likely saw her walking across the street, and when she settles down at her usual barstool – it might as well have her name monogrammed on it – he quickly slides her a mug of coffee and a bear claw.

“Hi, love,” Killian greets, leaning over the counter to brush his lips over the top of her head. “The internet is a bit slow right now, or so I’ve been very rudely told by the group of teenagers who should be in school, so you might have a bit of trouble working.”

“It’s fine. I was having trouble working and was coming over her to tease you about your never-ending collection of flannel shirts and baseball hats anyways.”

Killian rolls his eyes before taking off the Yankees cap that he has on, his inky black hair a mess underneath, and reaching over to plop it down on top of her head and over her ponytail. “Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll come chat with you to distract you. I’ve got to cook a few more hamburgers.”

“Ooh, make me one.”

“As you wish.”

In her fifteen minutes of waiting for Killian to finish working, not that he ever finishes working, she picks up her bear claw and takes a bite before swiveling around on her barstool and looking out the windows to see what’s going on out on Main Street. It’s nothing much, just the usual foot traffic, but then she notices that each and every storefront has already started construction on their Haunted House contributions, even if some of them are more cutesy than anything else.

Every storefront except this one.

And that’s when she realizes that Killian is trying to get out of participating again like the big spoil sport that he is.

“Jones,” she calls out, walking behind the counter and past the double doors that lead to his kitchen.

“Swan, you cannot be back here. We’ve discussed this.”

She has no idea when he’s ever going to learn that she doesn’t follow the rules. “Why haven’t you started decorating for the Haunted House thing? Halloween is in three days. It’s going to take time.”

There’s a sizzle as he flips over a burger, his back turned to her so that she can’t see his face, but she knows him well enough to know that his brows are likely pinched together in that annoyed way that has to cause him migraines.

“You know I’m not participating. It’s a waste of time and money, and I have no idea how I’d even decorate.”

One of those figurative lightbulbs goes off in Emma’s head, and suddenly she has an idea that’s going to waste all of her time and completely and totally distract her from the work that she’s supposed to be doing.

“Meet me at the craft store when you close.”

“The craft store will be closed and no.”

“I have ways to keep it open,” Emma sighs, walking forward so that she can see Killian’s face and the pinched brows that are, indeed, there. “C’mon, Jones. Please. Don’t be a dud. Participate in Halloween. Do it for me. You gave me an IOU for my birthday present on Saturday. This is my IOU. I’m cashing it in.”

“No,” Killian repeats, grabbing onto her hips and walking her backward out of the kitchen. “I will not meet you at the craft store after hours.”

-/-

“I cannot believe I’m meeting you here,” Killian scowls.

He hasn’t even made it to her yet. He’s still walking down the sidewalk adjusting the sleeves on his black leather jacket, and he’s already in a mood. Not that she blames him. She’s not exactly known as being happy-go-lucky herself, but when it comes to Halloween, everything changes.

It’s only the best holiday of the year.

(Though, she does love Christmas. The decorations and the snow and everything – magical.)

“KJ, we all know that you listen to what I say every single time.”

“Only because you bug me until I do listen.”

“True,” Emma sighs as Killian steps up to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder and tugs her close while a gust of cold wind blows through. “Did you bring your credit card?”

“Unfortunately. How are we even going to get in there?”

Emma digs into her jacket pocket and pulls out a set of keys. “I got the key from Anna, and she told me to ring everything we buy up at the register.”

“Of course. What else could I possibly expect from you? You can convince anyone to do anything.”

She drags Killian inside the store, her mental list already ticking off when she sees ribbons and felt paper and every imaginable size of those bags of creepy googly eyes, and even though she can tell Killian is dragging his feet, he follows along, grabbing the things off of the shelves that she can’t reach and putting them into one of the two shopping carts that they have. It’s a bit excessive, sure, and Killian doesn’t even know about all of the stuff she already bought from the pop-up Halloween store that’s currently residing in the one usually empty storefront on Main Street.

He would probably have an aneurism if he knew about all of the stuff that is currently being placed outside of his diner while they’re in here.

It’s a good thing that they’re such close friends.

There’s a box of giant paper pumpkins that would be perfect to hang from the ceiling (Killian insisted that the place stay family-friendly since he still needs to keep business), but it’s on the shelf that she just can’t reach. She could probably get it if she jumped, but then everything would knock over and she’d have to pay Anna back for all of the stuff she broke.

Writers for a small-town newspaper do not make that much money.

“Hold on, love,” Killian grunts, and before she knows it he’s pressing into her back so that the heat of his body and the overwhelming smell of the food he’s been cooking all day consumes her while he reaches up to grab the box, his fingers reaching those few needed inches above her so that he can pull down the pumpkins. “There you go.”

“T-thanks,” Emma stutters out all the while she tries to catch her breath and figure out why her body is on edge, goosebumps rising along her flesh and the slightest flickering of heat pooling between her thighs.

What the hell?

“So, what exactly are we doing, Swan?” Killian questions, snapping her out of the spiral she was just about to go down. “I’m not exactly understanding all of the things that I’m currently spending my life savings on.”

Emma smiles, the goosebumps staying for excitement now. “You’ll see.”

Killian continues to ask her questions while she rings up all of their items, swiping his credit card through the machine, and he keeps on drilling her on what her plan is as they walk back to his diner. The groan that passes through his lips when he sees the boxes outside makes Emma throw her head back and laugh, and she prepares herself for the night of complaining that she’s about to be in for.

Totally worth it. The only decorations she has at her apartment are two poorly carved pumpkins sitting outside of her front door, so she’s very much compensating by making Killian’s diner look like Halloween threw up in here.

“Isn’t it going to terrify my customers to have skeletons eating among them?”

“It wouldn’t terrify me.”

Emma shrugs her shoulders and starts buttoning up another one of Killian’s shirts over a skeleton. She promised not to use any of his favorite ones, and he’s sent her back upstairs to his apartment above the diner seven times because the shirt she has picked out is apparently a favorite. They all look the same to her, but then again, he says that about all of her jeans and boots even if they are most definitely different.

No two pair of jeans are the same unfortunately.

“It will probably terrify Roland.”

“He’ll get over it.”

“You’re so kind,” Killian huffs from his spot up on the ladder as he hangs all sorts of paper pumpkins and bats and witches’ hats from the ceiling. “Did you finish your work assignment?”

“I did indeed. Did you finish filling the stomachs of half of the people in Storybrooke?”

“I did. I even had some of Granny’s regular customers tonight.”

“No,” Emma gasps, moving from one skeleton to the next so that she can dress up the little guy that’s going to be sitting at the table by the door. “The traitors.”

“I know. I almost thought I was going to get shot serving them. Wasn’t sure if the price of the turkey melts would cover my funeral.”

“It’s still a possibility. There could be a sniper waiting outside for me to move away from you so that he can strike.” Killian hums in response, obviously not ready or willing to play along with this hypothetical situation where he’s going to get murdered, so she figures she might as well ask a question she’s been wondering for awhile now. “Hey, Killian?”

“Yeah?”

“How’d you even come to own this diner? Like, I have known you for ten years, and you’ve always just kind of…been here. But you don’t really seem like the type to own a small-town restaurant.”

“Well,” Killian sighs, clicking his tongue and climbing down his ladder to move it a few feet to the right, “that’s a bit of a long story.”

Emma motions to the half-decorated space around them. “I’ve got the time.”

“My mum,” he starts, his accent thicker than usual which is really saying something, “died when I was a teenager, you know, and my dad was so MIA that the courts couldn’t even find him. So, Liam and I were sent to live here with our aunt, who was in the country because her husband was American, and they owned this place. They live in Portland now to be closer to my cousins and their children, and when I decided not to enlist in the Navy like Liam, they gave me the business.”

“They gave an eighteen-year-old a business?”

“A bunch of dumbasses, right?”

Emma barks out a laugh and walks toward Killian to hand him the thread of fishing line that he forgot to take up the ladder with him. “I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything because it was your family but…”

“Yeah, I know, Swan. Bloody insane. Of course, Owen trained me for about a year before they left for good, so I wasn’t entirely unprepared.”

“You said this is what you wanted to do since you didn’t enlist in the Navy?” Emma questions, handing him a witch’s hat to hang. His ceiling is about to look like the weirdest Halloween store in history. “Why only the two options?”

“Lack of funds. I wanted to go to school to do pre-law, which seems batshit crazy to me now.” He holds up a bat at this, a cheeky grin on his face. “But I screwed around too much in school after Mum’s death and couldn’t get a scholarship anywhere. I didn’t want to take out a loan either because swimming in debt seemed so awful.”

“Huh,” Emma breathes out, ducking underneath the ladder because she’s fearless and doesn’t believe in superstitions before she walks behind the counter to open the glass covering where Killian keeps his donuts. “How did I not know this about you? I feel like I know everything about you.”

“I’m a very complex man, love. It takes more than annoying the hell out of me every day while I’m working to get to fully know me.”

“You love it,” she teases as she takes a giant bite out of a chocolate frosted donut.

Killian stares down at her for a few long seconds, his gaze intense, but then he’s turning around so that all she can see is the defined, stubbled line of his jaw that is so sharp it could cut the ice that’s in his freezer.

“Perhaps I do.”

Six hours and ten beers between the two of them later, Emma and Killian have finished decorating his diner so that skeletons are spread throughout the room eating fake food made to look like eyeballs and brain and every other gross thing that they could think of. Killian was stubborn as hell about it, especially when she insisted that he let her cover the front door with brown paper painted to look like a mouth so that it’s like customers are entering the belly of a monster, but she wore him down.

Or maybe the beers did.

Probably a combination of both.

And instead of walking the very long walk of five minutes back to her apartment, Emma falls asleep curled up on Killian’s bed after insisting that they’re both adults and can share a bed. It’s small, tight quarters that he’s obviously not used to sharing with other people, but when she wakes up in the morning, there’s a solid line of space between the two of them as Killian sleeps on his back next to her, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

He’s peaceful when he sleeps, which is a bit of an odd thing to think but something she’s thinking nonetheless, and his hair is an absolute mess, which is kind of endearing. That thought has her heart beating a little bit more quickly than usual, and she ignores it in favor of groggily walking downstairs to the diner to fix herself a cup of coffee (Killian doesn’t keep any in his apartment) only to come face to face with a diner full of people eating their breakfast.

Holy shit.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

“Killian,” she yells as she runs back up the stairs, slamming the door shut behind her so hard that the frame shakes.

“Bloody hell, darling,” he groans before rolling over in bed. “We were up until three in the morning and had far too much to drink. Why are you yelling?”

“Because I just went downstairs.”

Killian quirks a brow, propping himself up on his elbows. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because that’s where you keep your coffee.”

“But you’re wearing naught by one of my t-shirts since you insisted that you couldn’t sleep in your jeans.”

“I couldn’t,” she huffs, adrenaline running through her. “They’re really tight. Why are there people downstairs?”

Killian runs his hand over his face, brushing the hair out of his face and running his hands over his darkened scruff. “Because I own a diner where people like to eat breakfast.”

“But you’re not down there.” Emma’s whine sounds like one of a petulant child, but she can’t help herself. “How can it be open when you’re not down there?”

“I had Will open it when I knew we’d be up late. You really went down there wearing that?”

“Yes,” she yells, slapping her hands against her thighs. “Do you not see the problem with this?”

He shrugs. “Not really. You’ve got a hell of a set of legs, Swan. I don’t think there’s a shame in anyone seeing it.”

“Killian,” Emma starts, beginning to pace in the room, “this entire town thinks that we’re sleeping together. It’s something that I ignore because of…reasons, but it’s true. Not that we’re sleeping together, obviously, but that people think that. Do you know what’s going to happen now that forty people have seen me stumbling down your stairs at eight in the morning on a Saturday wearing your t-shirt?”

It takes ten seconds for the lightbulb to switch on in Killian’s head, and he falls back onto the mattress when it does, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck. Your brother is going to kill me.”

“Why would David kill you?”

“Because he has described about a million different ways that he’s going to murder me if I ever started dating you.”

“You have got to be kidding me. I’m a grown ass woman. He can’t control who I date.”

“He was protecting you.”

“From who? You? You’re Killian. You’re harmless.”

“I have a pretty fucked up dating history. I’m not exactly harmless.”

“Yeah, well, we all have one of those. We can’t all be like David in our happy-go-lucky marriages. I can’t believe he told you that you had to stay away from me. I mean…wait – ”

She stops her rant and pauses her pacing, staring down at Killian. “Why did David feel the need to tell you to stay away from me?”

Killian scratches behind his ear, his tongue clicking. “I may have…when you came home from college, I may have fancied you. But that was six years ago. It was simply a fascination, and I’d just had my heart broken by Milah.”

Did her heart just drop to her stomach?

Did it?

Why would it?

It doesn’t matter. None of that matters. All she knows is that she is about to have to defuse the town rumor mill, kill her brother, and then relentlessly tease Killian about having a crush on her.

Yeah, that’s what she’s going to do. She’s definitely not focusing on the fact that Killian had feelings for her at one point in time. A crush sounds much less serious.

What has even happened to her life in these past twenty-four hours?

-/-

Killian makes her a donut shaped like a jack-o-lantern on Halloween.

And he wears a fireman’s helmet instead of his usual baseball cap as some kind of attempt to participate in the holiday.

Her stomach flutters at the sight of him smiling at her with that crooked smile of his.

She chalks it up to all of the candy she’s eaten.

(It’s not that.)

Eighteen different people congratulate her on her relationship with Killian.

She gives up trying to explain it after the seventh person.

-/-

It goes on like that for the next two weeks.

She wakes up, goes to work, gets teased by people on the street talking about how they always knew that she and Killian would get together, and then she complains about it to Killian as he supplies her with coffee and cinnamon rolls that are probably going to have her giving up her jeans for leggings if she doesn’t get back into the gym sometime soon.

The cinnamon rolls are worth it. Killian makes them like no other.

Killian is also particularly cocky about the whole town thinking that they’re sleeping together. After his initial (dumb) fears of David being mad (he was, which is still ridiculous) and then the resulting explanation, Killian has taken this whole thing in stride. He openly flirts with her when she’s eating, getting into her space and winking and making innuendos that could make even Ruby blush.

That’s saying something.

They also make her blush, but that’s beside the fact.

It’s not real. The flirting isn’t real.

Once, when she’s helping Killian out by scraping gum off of the bottom of his tables, he tells her that he usually enjoys doing more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back, and her entire body breaks out in goosebumps over the deep tone of his voice and the inclination of what it would be like to have Killian pressing into her, fucking her into the mattress with his forearms braced over her and his lips running across her jaw and…

Those are not thoughts someone who is scrapping gum off of the bottom of the table should have.

But they keep coming whenever Killian’s hands start fumbling with her fingers when they’re lounging in his apartment watching TV. He hates all of her shows, is always complaining about how the plot is too contrived and there’s no need for so much drama, and yet, he’s always waiting for her to watch the next episode. She looks forward to it as well, and it’s definitely so that she can see what happens after the cliffhanger and not because of how it feels to be tucked into Killian’s side as his fingers play with the tips of her hair, his breath warm on her skin when he speaks so that he can mimic the characters.

And they honestly, truly keep coming when she can’t sleep one night, decides she should probably go to the gym to work off all of the food that she’s stress eating, and sees Killian running on the treadmill with no shirt on.

She was right when she joked about him secretly having muscles underneath all of that plaid and black leather.

When the hell did Emma decide that she’s attracted to Killian?

Obviously, she’s noticed his looks before. He’s got that typical attractive guy look with the unruly dark hair that’s always perfectly ruffled and blue eyes that even the ocean can’t replicate. Seriously. His eyes are insane. And then there’s the sharp jawline under the stubble and the white smile that comes with it. Plus the���nope.

No.

She cannot go there.

She’s gone there.

Emma is attracted to Killian, and she’d like to partake in enjoyable activities with him on his back.

More plainly, she’d like to fuck him.

But it’s also…it’s more than that. So much more. But sex is easier for her to think about, easier for her to understand, especially when she can push away the underlying emotions that come with wanting to have sex with her best friend.

She’s not sure that she really wants to push those emotions away, though, even if she’s terrified.

“Swan,” Killian calls, knocking his knuckles against her head so that she has to look up at him and the obnoxious grin stretched across his lips, “are you listening to me?”

“Absolutely I am,” she lies.

He sighs, sitting down next to her in the empty chair at her table and kicking at her foot. “Tell me what I just asked you.”

“Um,” Emma stutters, “if you’re as devilishly handsome today as you were yesterday?”

Killian winks. “As much as I like where your head is, because I am devilishly handsome every day, I was asking if you wanted to go to the festival with me? It’s dead in here, so I think I can close down early so we can head out.”

“But you hate the Founder’s Day Festival. You call it a waste of time.”

“I call every festival a waste of time unless it involves sailing.”

“Well, this does not at all involve sailing, so why do you want to go?”

“Because,” Killian starts as he drums his fingers on the table, “you like it, and I want to go with you.”

That familiar heat flickers across her cheeks, the staccato beating of her heart picking up, and she bites the inside of her cheek so hard that the taste of iron fills her mouth.

“Only if you buy me a box of fried oreos.”

“Those are entirely unhealthy, love.”

“Says the man who serves me unhealthy food every day.”

Killian clicks his tongue. “Ah, ah, ah. That helps my business. This is different.”

“You’re buying me oreos. Grab your coat, KJ. I have money to waste on the weird trinkets that Mary Margaret’s students have made and are selling to fund some kind of new project for the school that inevitably involves a garden that we’ll be forced to eat vegetables from later.”

“My vegetable supplier will be so upset.”

The two of them put their coats on. Emma tugs her beanie on over her ears to keep the mid-November chill from nipping at her ears, and Killian does the same, exchanging his baseball cap for a knit one. His doesn’t have a giant poof ball at the top like hers does, but he’d probably look ridiculous wearing one anyways.

Or not. He could pull off a lot of things.

(She wants to pull a lot of things off of him.)

Killian holds his arm out for her to take, and she does, looping her forearm through and walking by his side as they step out onto Main Street. Gone is the open road for cars to drive by and for people to walk across to get from business to business. Instead, it’s lined with booths, each of them identical except for the items that are being sold inside, and white bulb lights hang from storefront to storefront to add a mythical element of light to the place besides the lampposts that stand ten feet apart. She shouldn’t be so impressed by some simple strings of lights, but she is.

She’s long ago learned that the little things in life are the important things, and that’s exactly how she feels about string lights.

And the fried oreos that Killian buys her despite the fact that he complains about them the entire time.

Seriously. The entire time. It’s almost like this wasn’t his idea to come out here or something.

Once they get some of Granny’s hot chocolate, though, Killian stops complaining so much. It helps that he spikes them with his rum, something she’s thankful for, and even with his penchant for healthy eating, Killian does always cave for the s’mores bar.

Chocolate and marshmallows and graham crackers oh my!

“Is your brother staring daggers at us or is that just me?”

“Hmm?”

Killian nods his head over to where David and Mary Margaret are sitting at a picnic table with Graham and Ruby, who seem to be getting along pretty well. They’ve been on a few dates this month. Good. Ruby deserves that kind of happiness. Graham is much less of an asshole than Whale.

And David is definitely staring Killian down from across the fire pit, and that’s a more terrifying than she thought it would be. Something about the shadows of the light from the fire making David look evil.

Emma knocks her knee into Killian’s. “What’s that about? Did you drink the last beer or something when you guys hung out last night?”

“God, no. I don’t have a death wish.”

“Is he still irrationally mad over the entire town thinking that I was getting some good, good loving from you?”

Killian tilts his head back as he barks out a laugh and lifts his arm to pull her into his side so that he can rest his cheek against the top of her head. “Just to be clear, it would actually be good loving, but no,” he sighs, “we talked that out, as you know. It was bloody annoying, but David finally realized that you and I are adults who can make our own decisions. In fact, I’m pretty sure he gave me permission to sleep with you.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, I’m serious. He is on board with me making it so that you can barely walk the next day.”

“Stop,” Emma groans, burying her face in Killian’s jacket, breathing in the leather. “I don’t want to talk about me having sex in a context where David is somehow also thinking about it. That’d be like me telling you Liam has – ”

“Okay,” Killian quips, cutting her off. His hand squeezes her shoulder before rubbing up and down and bringing her more warmth than the fire pit. “We have to talk about something else. I don’t like that you’ve brought my brother into it.”

“Exactly.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, and Killian’s hand never stops rubbing up and down her arm. People keep passing by, laughter on their lips and warm drinks in their hands, and all Emma can think about is how this night is one of those nights where everything just seems perfect.

Perfect doesn’t exist, but this comes close.

Her ass is starting to hurt from sitting on this wooden bench.

And she’s feeling a little fearless.

“Hey, KJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about it?”

Scruff scratches across her forehead. “Think about what?”

“Us,” Emma whispers, terrified of the words that she’s saying but unable to stop herself. “I mean, every single person in the town thinks that we’re good enough together that they think we actually are together. Have you ever thought about it?”

His hand stills, but it’s only for a second. “When I said that I was attracted to you when you moved back to town, that wasn’t a lie. It’s still not. But the timing never seemed right. You’d just broken up with Neal, and I wanted to give you some space. Then, you started dating Walsh, and as much as I hated that asshole, you seemed happy.”

“He was an asshole. You should have said something.”

“I didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.”

“You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have.” Killian’s thumb caresses her chin, a gentle touch that has shivers running down her spine, before he’s tilting her head up so that she can see the blue of his eyes under dark lashes. “The timing was always off. I stand by that. I also stand by the fact that I am incredibly attracted to you, always, and that you are quite possibly my best friend in the world.”

“Even over David?”

“Aye,” he laughs, his eyes crinkling in the way she loves. “Even over David.”

The way she leans up at the same time that Killian leans down seems like the most natural movement in the world, and their lips press tentatively together as emotion builds in the back of her throat. This isn’t something that she has imagined too much, not really, but there have definitely been times, especially lately, when she did let her mind wander to questions of what kissing Killian would be like. Would it be weird? Would his lips feel soft? Would all of the innuendos and swaggering confidence live up to their reputation?

Would it make her happy?

That last one is the most important one, Emma thinks, and it’s what has her smiling into the kiss in a way that doesn’t really allow them to get any traction. But Killian is smiling too, something she can taste and feel as viscerally as the feeling of his thumb still on her chin and his hand tangling into her hair under her beanie. The only part of him that her hands can find are his sides, but that’s fine because then she’s opening up to him and letting his lips truly capture hers in all of their softness.

He tastes like a combination of hot chocolate and rum, possibly the smallest bit of s’mores, and it’s the most delicious kiss of her life.

Is this even real life?

Emma gets her answer when Killian’s tongue caresses hers, warm and wet and achingly wonderful as her skin breaks out in goosebumps, and he captures her sigh while she captures his moan.

Unfortunately, though, neither of them can capture the sound of David’s voice booming over them.

“If you’re going to do that, you might as well get a room so I don’t have to watch.”

Her laugh bursts out of her, and Emma pulls back from Killian only to bury her forehead in his shoulder while his hand rubs up and down her back. She can feel his chest vibrating with his own laughter.

“See, Swan, I told you he was on board.”

That only makes her laugh harder, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach getting jostled around so much that she physically aches from all of the emotions that she’s feeling right now.

(She kissed Killian.)

“It’s still weird.”

“Aye,” Killian chuckles, and when she finally pulls back to look at him, there’s a serious glint to the blue of his eyes.

“What?”

His smile is soft, his eyes crinkled, and all she really wants to do is kiss him again.

“Do you want to get a room? I happen to have one nearby.”

“I think I’d like to be properly courted first, thank you very much.” Killian’s smile falls for the briefest of moments, but she picks up on it and presses forward to peck his lips, one, two, three times to bring it back. “I’m kidding. If you don’t take me back to your apartment and have your way with me right now, I’m going to make you decorate the diner for every single holiday. Even the weird ones.”

“Well, if you put it like that...”

They get up from the bench then, and Emma didn’t realize just how much her legs were trembling until she stands up. Her step falters, but Killian steadies her, much like always, and the two of them grab their things before hurrying back in the direction of the diner to the sound of a wolf whistle that she knows is from Ruby.

The whole town knows that she’s about to have sex, but screw them. She’s the one getting screwed.

Killian, ever the gentleman even though she knows that he’s not one half of the time, places his hand on the small of her back, electricity sparking through his fingers and over onto her skin, and leads her up the back staircase that leads to his apartment.

She’s been in here a million times and knows every inch of this place from the dark wood cabinets in the kitchen to the plush brown couch that has two blue and gray striped pillows on it as well as a white throw blankets that Killian only owns because she insisted. He’s not much for decorating, preferring to keep life simple, but there are small trinkets and books scattered throughout the place that make it so undeniably him that her heart aches.

And maybe it beats a little faster when she sees the plaid comforter covering his bed, the one that’s barely big enough for two people.

A million times, and yet none of them have ever felt quite like this.

“Nice place you got here,” Emma jokes, a bit of her nervousness coming through with the shakiness of her voice. She tries to cover it by turning around and looping her arms around the back of Killian’s neck so that their bodies are pressed together again, arousal humming through her, but the quirk of his brow tells her that he can tell that she’s a bit on edge.

“We don’t have to do anything, love.” He says this with his hands on her hips, placed right above the waistband of her jeans but under her sweater so that his fingers are touching skin, and his touch is warmer than the fire outside. “Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

There’s a gentle nodding of her head. “I want it to.”

Without any hesitation, Killian swipes his tongue into her mouth, a much headier kiss than the one outside, and all she can really think about is the fact that Killian Jones is a damn good kisser. There have been so many thoughts running rampant, so many questions and worries, but she doesn’t feel any of them as he tugs her closer and runs his hands up her sides so that his fingers are messing with the soft material of her bra and his lips can’t stop moving over hers.

She can feel him over every inch of her, this firm, warm body that has the arousal continuing to grow and is causing her nipples to firm, to ache, and for someone who wasn’t even sure that she actually wanted Killian until about two weeks ago, Emma is desperately aching for him now.

Funny how things like that work.

Killian seems to feel the same way as he carefully backs her across the apartment, familiar creaks of the floorboard happening with each step, and she can feel him through the material of his jeans in a way that has her thighs beginning to quiver.

Her calves hit the end of his bed, and Killian’s lips move from her mouth to her neck while his hands start tugging at her clothes, urging her jacket to come off as she pushes the beanie off of his head so that his hair comes out as a wild, dark mess. It’s only now that she realizes that her hat was lost somewhere along the way.

She doesn’t care.

Emma doesn’t care about anything but the way that Killian is making her feel, and he is making her feel absolutely everything. Clothes are shed, mostly easily, but there is a moment when Killian is trying to get her boots off where he can’t and murmurs something along the lines of bloody buggering fuck  that as her laughing so hard that tears start coming out of her eyes. The laughter quickly stops when Killian lips run over her breast, the soft mouth and scratchy scruff causing sensations that have the hair on her arms standing on edge.

Though, none of that compares to when he aligns himself with her and begins to stroke her with his fingers while the hair on his chest rubs against hers and his teeth bite at her earlobe. She can do nothing but hold on, her nails leaving half-moon tattoos in the skin of his back as her thighs tremble with want and the coil in her belly continues to tighten.

“Do you like that, Swan?”

“Yes,” she moans, biting into his shoulder when his thumb brushes over her clit. It’s gentle, not too rough, and later she’s most definitely going to commend him on his ability to follow instructions. Emma didn’t know that he actually knew how to listen since he never seems to.

That’s a lie.

Killian is always listening to her, always giving her the upmost attention, and she has no idea how she managed to be this oblivious for this long.

None of that matters. They’re here now.

Killian’s voice is gritty as he whispers dirty things into her ear, things that he used to say to her in a joking tone but that he says very seriously now, but it’s difficult for her to respond with the way arousal is pulsing hotly between her legs and her heart is beating so quickly that it may very well overpower itself.

Killian pulls away from her when she thinks she’s about to fall apart, and as much as she wants to yell at him for that, she can’t when she feels his cock pressing up against her – heavy and warm and thick. It’s all too much for her, especially when he rolls his hips against hers as his mouth sloppily moves over hers to kiss her. But then he slides inside, the drag of him delicious, and there’s something about all of this that feels so undeniably right.

It’s the two of them.

They’re right.

Her imagination never got quite this far. It had its moments, these quick little thoughts, but they can’t compare to how he fucks her down into the mattress in a way that’s a perfect combination of being gentle and harsh all the while his lips keep moving over hers so that the only sounds in the room are the wet slapping of skin together and the cacophony of groans and sighs that are escaping the two of them.

“Killian,” Emma whines as he rolls his hips into hers and she hooks her right leg around his back to pull him in deeper. “Just like that. Please.”

“Anything you want if you keep saying my name like that.”

If she were a betting woman, she’d bet that there’s a smirk gracing his lips, but she can’t see with the way that his face is buried in her shoulder, his labored breathing now the only sound coming out of him. But that may also be her.

That’s definitely her.

Her orgasm steals the little breath that she has left and spreads from her toes up her body, at least for a few seconds, and it has been a long damn time since she felt something like that. She wants to feel it again, to feel all of this again – the way that pleasure bursts and curls and explodes across the two of them – but then Killian is muttering quite possibly the filthiest thing she has ever heard in her ear and pulsing within her so that she knows that he’s fallen too.

This is going in the record books for the best Founder’s Day Festival of all time.

No contest.

After, her body feels warm all over and impossibly sated, but Killian still hands her one of his flannel shirts, one that he knows that she loves to steal, and she puts it on without bothering to button it up. There’s definitely going to be a round two sometime soon, but right now she just wants to bask in the glory of it all.

Having sex with someone you care about so damn much seems to have its perks.

Killian’s nose brushes her cheek when he gets back into bed and pulls her into his side before he pulls the covers over them, and Emma is soothed by the sound of his heartbeat in his chest. It’s quick, but solid, and it’s good to know that he was just as affected by all of this as she was.

“So, do you think I’ve effectively made some good, good loving to you that your brother would approve of?”

Emma groans into his chest, and her fingers trail through the thick patch of hair there. “If you ever say something like that again then all of this stops.”

“My lips are sealed then.”

“Good,” Emma sighs, looping her leg around Killian’s while his hand starts tracing words into her back through the flannel. “KJ?”

“Hmm?”

“How long exactly have you had feelings for me?”

His fingers stop their movement, but only for a moment, and then she feels the gentle press of lips to the crown of her head. “I think that’s a rather complex question, love.”

“Give it a go.”

“Aye,” he chuckles. “I think after Milah left me, I wasn’t too sure that I would ever been keen on love again. My romance with hers felt like one of those that could never be replicated, you know? And then you came whirling back into town with such a fire in your eyes that I’d never seen before. Bloody brilliant, I tell you. And at first, you were nothing more than David’s little sister who I happened to be attracted to. But then you started bugging me every day at the diner, coming in and drinking too much coffee and eating too many sweets, and one day I just realized…huh, I actually like this woman. You’ve been my best friend for a long damn time, even if we still have a hell of a lot to learn about each other, but you’ve kind of made me believe in those romances again where I feel like, you know, my life meant nothing until you used my toothbrush.”

Well, damn. She thought she was the one here who was able to weave words like that. But only in her writing after approximately ten edits. Killian can just do it so naturally, and the smile that’s on her face is so large that it hurts.

“To be fair, the one time that I used your toothbrush was an accident. Ours were the same brand, and that trip to New York had been insane.” She tilts her head up at the sound of Killian’s laugh, and she can now see the blue under his half-lidded eyes. They’re so beautiful. He’s so beautiful. “But yeah, I know exactly what you mean even if I took a little bit more time to come around to it all.”

Killian smiles as he tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ve been more than fine waiting.”

-/-

Killian lets Will open the diner again the next day, and this time Emma doesn’t wander downstairs for coffee. She stays holed up in bed with Killian, the two of them laughing and talking and making each other sigh out the other’s name with the way that their bodies move together.

It’s the first time Killian ever completely misses a day of work.

He starts decorating the diner for holidays after that. Not small ones like President’s Day or Flag Day or anything like that, but in December there’s a tree wrapped in lights and ornaments and in March everything is decked out in green to go along with the special on beer. Granted, a lot of it is her doing and Killian definitely still complains, but the both of them know that his grumpy act is really just an act.

He’s more than happy to do silly things to make her happy.

That includes proposing to her the next year on Halloween as Emma wrestles with a pair of sheets that she’s trying (and failing) to make look like a ghost.

She says yes but only if she’s guaranteed free burgers and fries for life. Plus, her own toothbrush. Oh, and coffee. Always coffee.

It’s a tough negotiation, but Killian agrees.

[streetlight11]

Nets and Bandaids | pt 1

Summary: They were the strongest members in their respective teams and everyone looked up to them. Except, they could never seem to get along. One day when an incident happened during the seasonal championship, that changed everything between them.

Theme: University au, volleyball players au, enemies to lovers

Warning: very mild swearing

Genre: angst, fluff

WC: 2.1k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

a/n: btw, Y/F/N stands for 'Your Full Name'! :)

~~~

Next

Hankuk University has two of the most powerful team players in their Volleyball school team for both girls and boys. Their names were Y/F/N and Lee Minho. There were 8 members in each team. The girls volleyball team consists of Y/N who is the Team Captain and she is able to play any positions but her main position is a Setter. 

Chungha who is the Co-Captain and also a Libero. Jennie who was a Setter. Jihyo and Yeri who were the Right Side also known as an Outside Hitter. Mina and Jisoo who were the Left Side also known as a Wing Spiker. And last but not least, Lisa who was a Middle Blocker.

The boys volleyball team consists of Minho who is the Team Captain and just like Y/N, he is able to play any position but his main position is a Setter. Chan who is the Co-Captain and also a Setter. 

Changbin who was a Libero. Hyunjin who was a Middle Blocker. Jisung and Seungmin who were the Right Side also known as Outside Hitter. And lastly, Felix and Jeongin who were the Left Side also known as Wing Spiker.

Their volleyball training was every Tuesday and Thursdays from 6pm to 8pm.

Today was no different as they had training later on since it was a Tuesday. Y/N was just listening to her lecture class when she received a text from her volleyball coach.

She noticed that Coach Kwon mentioned “captains” which means he probably texted that same message to Minho as well and he did. But their group chat was oddly silent so she texted in the group chat to inform the rest.

Just 4 seconds after she sent her text, Minho sent his. She frowned as she rolled her eyes to no one in particular.

“Did that jerk really just wait for me to send the text first?” She locked her phone screen and soon refocused on her lecture. 

Two and a half dreadful hours later, they were now dismissed from the class. Y/N left the hall only to get a text from Chungha, asking her to meet them at the rooftop garden where students tend to sit down in the wooden tables to do their school work. She arrived at the rooftop, only to find half of the girls volleyball team and half of the boys volleyball team.

“Unnie!” Yeri called excitedly as she waved excitedly to Y/N, making the elder girl laugh. The minute Y/N arrived beside the wooden table, Jihyo spoke up.

“How was your lecture?”

“I don’t think anything got into my head to be honest.” Y/N said as the rest of them began to laugh. They spent the next 2 hours doing their assignments while the rest of the team members slowly began to appear as they waited for the training time to start. 

Y/N was just standing behind Seungmin, leaning over him to check his coding since he too was a CS student when a familiar voice called out from behind them.

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s plenty of space on the right instead of leaning over him like that.” Y/N glanced over her shoulders while Seungmin peeked past her arm to see Minho approaching them with one hand clutching loosely on the strap of his cross body bag while the other was tucked in the pocket of his jeans.

She rolled her eyes as she ignored him, only to pat Seungmin’s shoulder and began to explain to him where he went wrong.

Minho scoffed, walking over to stand opposite her just behind Chan and Hyunjin. He stared at her with no particular expression on his face. Seungmin and her seemed like they were in their own little bubble. Seungmin’s lips tugged into a smile, thanking her for her help.

Training was about to start so they all made their way to the indoor sports hall together. They were walking in small groups with mixed genders where Y/N was walking with Changbin, Felix and Seungmin. She was just talking about baking with Felix when Changbin suddenly spoke up.

“The only thing you will bake is your hatred for Lee Minho.”

“You, come here.” Y/N said in a stern voice as Changbin began to sprint down the path screaming at the top of his lungs.

She chased after him, running past their other friends only for Changbin to almost run into the glass door. Y/N jolted to a stop behind him, she couldn’t stop laughing. Changbin growled as he got her in a chokehold.

Training soon began and it was back to square one where the captains would supervise their team according to what their coach told them to do. They were all taking a break when Coach Kwon called all of them to gather around.

“Okay, as you may know, the annual Volleyball Championships will be held in 2 months time and our school will be taking part in it. However, I was told by the official management of this championship that they will be having a special round for the final game. They want the two schools who qualify for the finals to participate in a mixed game.”

With that being said, they were all curious as to what that means, only for Coach Kwon to further explain his announcement.

“The two schools would have to team up both genders for the final round.” He said, making them gasp. Upon hearing this, both the Team Captains turned their heads to their Coach who was standing right beside them.

“Both genders?” Y/N asked.

“You mean…?” Minho said as he dragged his words, unsure if he likes where this was going.

“Yes. Both teams will have to take part in the finals together.” Coach Kwon said, noticing the two Captains frowned. He seemed to sense the thick tension lingering in the air so he chose to acknowledge it.

“With that being said, I will need you two to work together and put your differences aside. Can you do that for your teammates?” Coach Kwon asked, glancing over to Y/N and Minho who were standing in their spots, stiff.

Both of them nodded even though everyone knew it was a forced reaction so as to not disappoint their coach.

With that, Coach Kwon took 2 sets of 6, of two coloured vests to divide them into two teams equally. Since Y/N and Minho were the Team Captains, Coach Kwon gave Y/N the blue vest and Minho the purple vest before asking them to choose their team members.

So each team would have a total of four girls and four boys. Y/N and Minho played a round of rock paper scissors to see who gets to choose first, only for her to win.

The final teams were Y/N, Lisa, Yeri, Jisoo, Chan, Changbin, Felix and Seungmin. Minho, Hyunjin, Jisung, Jeongin, Chungha, Jennie, Mina and Jihyo. The practice games soon started as the ones on the bench were Felix, Jisoo, Jeongin and Mina.

And immediately off the bat, the opposite gender team members could already see the huge difference in their Team Captain’s attitude during a game.

Minho tends to scold his teammates if they weren’t fast enough or if they didn’t move according to how he likes it. Meanwhile, Y/N, on the other hand, encourages her team by giving tips and pointers on how to win a game or to perfect their moves during an attack or defense.

So when they finished their first practice round, Y/N couldn’t help but speak up after witnessing just how much he scolded the girls and even the boys about their speed and techniques.

“Don’t you think you’re being too harsh on them?” She asked with a disapproval on her face.

“This is my way of leading them. If they’re too slow, then what’s the point of being on the court?” Minho said with a sharp tone in his voice. By now, Y/N was already on the other side of the net, standing in front of Minho. She looked slightly smaller than him but she definitely had a more intimidating aura on her at the moment.

“And what makes you think they’ll get any better with you screaming at them all the time? As their Captain, you’re supposed to guide them not criticize them.” Y/N said firmly, causing Minho to take a step closer only to tower over her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Minho said.

“You’re not the alpha here. We all listen to Coach Kwon. We’re both here to supervise. But if you can’t do it right, that’s when your team crashes.”

“I don’t need a big shot like you telling me what I should or should not do.”

“This is exactly why your team lost the last championship because you don’t have faith in them. Not everything in volleyball is about speed, you arrogant jerk.” Y/N said as Minho was about to lunge forward but Chan and Hyunjin stopped him right on time, sliding their bodies in between the two captains.

“That’s enough. We’re supposed to work together, not argue.” Chan said firmly while Chungha held Y/N back.

“There’s a reason why I appointed you two as the captains. And that is because I have faith in the two of you to lead your respective teams into being the best players in Hankuk U. But if both of you can’t work together, I can’t do anything to make things better.” Coach Kwon said, making them fall silent.

The two captains soon apologized to Coach Kwon who then told them to swap teams and also substitute the members on the bench for those playing in the same position.

With that being said, Y/N and Minho swapped places so that both teams will get to experience their way of leading them. During that second game, Minho kept cursing at Yeri whenever she missed the ball or for when she accidentally hit the ball out of line.

So right after the game, Y/N called out to Minho again when she saw Yeri looking down as she walked to the bench.

“Yah, Lee Minho, is that how you lead your team? By cursing at them?” She asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“If she was faster and more focused, she wouldn’t have missed the fucking ball thrice.”

“Just because she’s not as fast as you doesn’t mean she’s bad at playing the sport.” She said, only for him to growl at her in anger, shoving her shoulders now.

“Why does it matter so much to you?! I’ve been doing this with the boys for the past 2 years and they’ve only gotten better!”

“That’s because they want to avoid being screamed at by your petty little ass!” She yelled, and while most of the guys slightly agreed with what she said when she defended his teammates, they hated seeing the two fight.

“Y/N, let’s stop here. Hmm?” Chan said softly as he carefully wraps his arm around her shoulder to push her back but she didn’t want to move.

“What can we do to break that thick fucking ego of yours to make you realize that volleyball isn’t a goddamn war.” She said, making Minho glare at her. His anger slowly built up, only for Coach Kwon to speak up.

“I think we shall end early for today. Go home, get some rest. I hope to not see any of these tensions on Thursday. Do I make myself clear?” Coach said as they responded a “yes” in unison before they began to clear the hall of their volleyball equipment.

Y/N was just pushing the pole to the back of the sports hall when a soft voice spoke up from behind her, and it was Jeongin.

“Noona, I’m thankful that you stood up for us. I don’t know if you even want to hear this, but Minho hyung isn’t always like this with us. Sometimes he does give us good advice and he even helped us with techniques we could use during games and so far, they’re all really useful…” Jeongin paused as they stacked the poles at the back of the hall.

“Then why does he act so harshly to my members? To show that he has power?” Y/N asked, resting her hand against the pole only to lean her body weight on it. Jeongin laughed before he spoke up.

“Honestly, I think he was just doing it out of stress. I mean, we’ve never played a game together with both teams involved so I guess he was just confused on how he should lead them. Trust me noona, hyung can be really tough sometimes but he’s probably one of the best Team Captain anyone could have alongside Chan hyung.”

With that, she let out a heavy sigh as she ruffled Jeongin’s hair gently before walking back to the main hall with him, not realizing that someone was eavesdropping.

[abadgameserver]

Make sure not to play games with the support of a bad game server

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We will start with the legal issues. Not all game servers are legit. For the unversed, the servers need to maintain specific rules and regulations. For instance, no one below the age of eighteen can host a game server. If you do select one such server, you should be ready to experience bottlenecks. The immature hosts will naturally be unable to manage things efficiently. Additionally, they will not possess the expertise of troubleshooting.

On the contrary, when you have the support of a reliable server, you are safe from the above issues. Then again, shared web hosting servers indulge in overselling. This results in overworking the server and the game server crashes. Other than those who have gone for the dedicated servers will experience a bad customer care experience for sure. For certain reasons, if your game experiences downtime you may have to wait for several days before the problem is resolved or at times never at all.

The next imperative point is checking whether the game server has a valid registration. An unregistered company runs the risk of shutting down operations all of a sudden. If this happens, not only you miss the fun of your favorite game, you also end up losing the hard-earned money that you paid towards the server fee. So, you must negate the chances of anything as such happening by selecting a renowned game server company. Most certainly, reliable organizations will never commit such a heinous offence.

If they do, you can sue them. An unregistered company leaves no footprints, thus you can never get after them. After reading online reviews and the experience of the other gamers, it should help you identify the best game server companies. Furthermore, check for the SSL certification of their website.  

We recommend every gamer to go for the dedicated game servers. Undoubtedly, these are genuine companies, and you should never have to worry about the issues mentioned in this article. With the help of the best game servers, you will be able to play with as many people as you want without having to worry about game lag or downtime. Hope, the points  here, will help others to choose the best game servers for playing their favorite multiplayer game.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Homra cleaning service. Saruhiko is the unloved son of a wealthy couple Fushimi. Left to live alone, he decides that cleaning the house himself is not for him. And he calls the Homra cs. Comes the rudest cleaner he has ever seen - Yata (and maybe someone else from homra with him, Idk). Well, gradually, day after day, they get to know each other better and fall in love. Along the way, Yata is trying to improve Saru's life. Perhaps, the cs advised reisi, because it belongs to his secret bf suoh.

I'm imagining Munakata as like Fushimi's butler who does his best to make sure Fushimi is cared for but knows that Fushimi really needs a friend to be close to. Like say Niki and Kisa are Fushimi's wealthy asshole parents who are never home, Niki's always off squandering the family fortune and Kisa is constantly busy at work and never goes home. Fushimi lives in this majestic townhouse all by himself with only the servants for company. The servants do their best to care for him (like imagine Munakata as the butler and Fushimi's private tutor, Awashima is in charge of security, Kamo is the family’s private chef, Akiyama and Benzai are Fushimi's personal bodyguards, etc) but Fushimi knows that if he ever lets himself get too close to them Niki will fire them and then he'll be all alone again. Fushimi spends all his days at home, never leaving the house and rarely ever even leaving his room. Though the staff do some cleaning the place is so large that it rarely ever gets completely clean and most of the rooms quickly become dusty and run down. Fushimi's own room is a mess, he leaves empty boxes of food everywhere and there are dirty clothes strewn about along with various broken toys and video games.

Munakata decides that they need to get the place into shape and so he hires the Homra cleaning service to come take care of the house. Yata is the new young eager member of the cleaning service and he's super excited to get this new assignment, like his job is to go to this big mansion three times a week and clean. For the first job he brings Kamamoto and a few alphabet boys with him though the hope is that once he gets the initial cleaning done Yata can keep the rest of the place in shape by himself. As soon as Homra gets to the house they're all amazed, like wow this place is huge no wonder we're getting paid so much for it. Yata's never been inside such a huge and fancy house and he's really excited, like this must be what it's like to be rich. The Homra guys are greeted at the door by Munakata, who tells them that the rest of the staff will be making themselves scarce for the day so that Homra can clean without being interrupted, however please be careful not to disturb the young master. Yata nods, a little overwhelmed by how regal this guy is, like if this is the butler the 'young master' must really be some kind of frilly prince-like person.

So Yata divides the Homra guys into sections and they all start cleaning. Yata's having some fun with it too, like imagine him soaping up this really long hallway and then sliding down it in his socks. Kamamoto's cleaning with him and is like Yata-san maybe you shouldn't do that what if that young master guy sees us, Yata's like nah that guy's probably too busy like powdering his face to bother with us commoners. Yata puts some more soap on the floor and is like watch me slide down the hall on these brushes, putting one under each foot and making a running start. He's sliding down the hall when a figure appears from out of one of the doorways, it's too late for Yata to stop and he plows right into the guy, sending them both crashing to the floor.

Yata sits up and groans, like he wasn't expecting interference. He hears this soft tongue click and Yata looks down to see Fushimi glaring at him. Yata stutters an apology, saying he thought all the staff were gone for the day. Fushimi adjusts his glasses and stares for a moment before giving this little scoff that somehow pisses Yata off. Fushimi's like I see, so you guys are the ones who are supposed to clean this place, they really hired some worthless thugs huh. Yata's like what the hell did you call us asshole and that's when Kamamoto nervously pokes his shoulder and says this kid is the 'young master' the butler mentioned. Yata's all wait what as Fushimi smirks and is like that's right, how are you going to make this up to me. Yata starts stuttering a little and Fushimi asks his name, Yata gives his family name and Fushimi's like 'your whole name.' Yata mumbles a 'Misaki' and Fushimi starts laughing again, like you really are the worst huh Misaki. Yata knows he shouldn't be yelling at the son of his employer but he can't help it, like you know we wouldn't have to clean this place if you could do it yourself. Fushimi decides that if Yata thinks he's so good at this then fine, he can clean Fushimi's room. Yata's like ha that's easy enough I'll show you, only to be brought into Fushimi's room and he's like what the hell this place is a pig sty how do you live like this. Fushimi gives him a cold smirk as he's like I'm going to get something to eat, I expect this place to be clean when I come back Misaki.

Kamamoto peers in and he's like no way we can clean all this, Yata however is now determined to clean the room and show that asshole how good he is. And anyway this place is such a mess, doesn't that guy's mom yell at him about it. Kamamoto says the notes they got on the house say that Fushimi's parents aren't ever home and Yata's like wait never then who takes care of him. Fushimi reappears as they're talking, looking irritated as he says he doesn't need anyone to take care of him. Yata's all weren't you leaving and Fushimi says he forgot something and tells them to leave. Yata's like but I didn't clean anything and Fushimi snaps at him to get out and leave him alone, pushing Yata out and slamming the door.

A few days later Fushimi's lying in bed playing his game system and eating chips when someone kicks open the door. Fushimi looks up and there's Yata with all these cleaning supplies, telling him he can just stay there but Yata's going to clean this room. Fushimi's super confused like what are you doing Misaki and Yata's like I said I'd clean it and I'm going to, you can't be healthy living in a room like this. Yata proceeds to clean the whole room while trading comments with Fushimi, at one point Yata sees the game Fushimi's playing and is maybe a little impressed by how high Fushimi's scores are. Once he's finished cleaning Yata leaves but he tells Fushimi not to get comfortable because Yata's going to be back in two days and this place better stay clean. Fushimi figures Yata will just get bored of this job eventually and leave for good but Yata keeps coming back day after day and he always comes to see Fushimi every time, to the point that Fushimi unexpectedly finds himself hoping for Yata to show up even as he tells himself that surely Yata's going to get sick of him any day now, surely he'll leave Fushimi behind. For his part Yata's decided that this Fushimi kid is way too gloomy but he seems kinda cool too and Yata finds himself wanting to know more about Fushimi, wanting to see him laugh and smile and be happy and Yata's going to do his best to make that happen.