#sigh. sure mom we can watch another period piece about white women being able to vote

[miseria-fortes-viros]

watching a movie with your mom is truly a unique experience. the credits start rolling on everything everywhere all at once and you’re sitting there like “wow, what a profound perspective on the human experience. everything matters because nothing matters and vice versa. trying to figure out who we would be if things were different will drive us to insanity. being present here and now is the best we can do for ourselves. sometimes laundry and taxes is really all you need if it’s with the right person. sometimes if you help one person you can save a whole bunch of other people in the process. and even in the strangest circumstances there is always something to love” and your mom is like “THAT WAS SO WEIRD AND GROSS AND I DIDNT GET IT I AM NEVER LETTING YOU PICK A MOVIE AGAIN”

[captainswannl29]

Happy Birthday Hollie!

So you know you’re REALLY special when someone who never - ever - makes a post, or finishes any kind of writing and prefers to stick to behind-the-scenes beta-ing goes full out and does a one shot for you!

I know it’s not on YOUR level, but in my defense, i didn’t have a beta as good as you do ;) I hope you enjoy it!! @the-captains-ayebrows

Birthday Fic based on this prompt;

“I’m on a date at a hockey game and my date is being a douche. Now we’re on the kiss cam, but hes on his phone, so i’m just going to kiss you instead, okay?” 

and this post;

http://killianisacupcake.tumblr.com/post/151446047966/frozenmusings-booooost-sympathypaynes

“Great!” Emma huffed, as she slammed her battery depleted phone down onto her thigh. The impact made her skin sting under her jeans. Taking a deep breath, she rolled her eyes at the fact that – apparently - iPhone batteries don’t do so well in near-frigid temperatures. The motion caused her to catch a glimpse of Neal to her right. In his worn jersey puffed up atop layers of thermal clothing and backwards baseball cap, perched on the edge of the hard, cold, plastic arena seat he was every bit the Hockey Fan she decidedly was not.

“Come on guys! That’s it!” He shouted through gloved fingers – Jesus, even the gloves were embossed with a team logo. What team is it again? Something red. Damned if Emma could remember. Being at an NHL game with Neal was kind of like being at a little kids’ birthday party… there’s nothing in it for you, but the kid is having a great time so you’re just kind of… there. And freezing. Did she mention freezing? Without the excuse of her touch screen phone to justify her lack of mittens, she was fast approaching frostbite. After tossing her useless phone into her purse, she rubbed her hands together in a failed attempt to warm them, then hugged herself tightly, tucking each hand carefully under her biceps.

“Serve’s you right, Em!” joked Neal, now glancing back at her “I mean, who goes to a hockey game in a tank top and leather jacket anyways?”

“Well, you know, maybe if somebody had warned me they don’t actually heat these places adequately I would have been more prepared” she sighed heavily creating a cloud of frozen breath. “I never have this problem at an NBA game.” Emma arched a sarcastic brow in his direction, but his attention was turned back towards the ice and she was alone in her misery once again. Perhaps a bit disappointed at the lack of engagement with her top-notch banter, Emma narrowed her eyes and began to asses Neal’s profile. The tips of his hair were poking out around the edges of the hat and plastered against his forehead. Several creases around his eyes grew deeper as he concentrated on the players whizzing up the ice, and the line of his nose pointed towards a hinting of a moustache and beard that never quite achieved the whole “meticulously unkempt” look she knew he was secretly going for. Despite Neal’s desire to be the devil-may-care type he really looked a lot more like a boring future in the Hamptons. Which probably explained why her parents, most emphatically her mother, were always “Team Neal.” They just want you to be happy, Emma told herself. And she was, right? It had been 5 years with Neal and things were… they were okay I guess. Her mom was constantly dropping hints about planning a wedding.

“We just want you to have what we have, Emma.” Her mother had said over a blinding smile the last time they’d visited for dinner. “I knew from the first moment your father kissed me.” But the problem with that was there never was or would be another couple so perfectly cookie cutter happy as David and Mary Margaret Nolan. And as much as Emma loved them for it, she always had a nagging suspicion that she wasn’t cut from the same cloth.

“I prefer basketball too, Lass.” A mellifluous voice to her left snapped Emma out of her contemplation. Twisting around to catch a pair of serenely blue eyes she was taken completely off guard.

“Uhhh…”

“Although nothing American could ever compare to a proper match of footy.” The stranger whispered, with a one-sided smirk and eyebrow tilt to match. A few pieces of raven hair fell across his brow and brought Emma back to the here and now. He had a sharp jaw covered in a textbook 5 o’clock shadow, full lips, and a hint of chest hair escaping through the v neck of his t shirt, all wrapped up in a fitted black leather jacket reminiscent of James Dean himself. “Actually, I think it’s Canadian. Basketball that is. Common misconception.” Oh, My, God, seriously, she was mortified at her response before she had even finished it. Professor sexy and his perfection of an Irish accent – British? No, Irish, definitely Irish, is giving her a look that screams everything your mother would never let you date and she comes back with a brief history on the origins of basketball? What she wouldn’t give to be able to hide behind her phone right now.

“Ah, which explains my greater affinity for it I suppose. Never the less, Hockey isn’t exactly my cup of tea but my brother here – “He tilted his head to his left, signalling a curly haired but equally as attractive man “Well, he dragged me here. Afraid I lost a bet.”

“Well, sucks to be you I guess!” she scrunched her nose and raised her shoulders at him.

“Ha-ha, that may be true, love, but at least I have gloves.” He held up one hand and wriggled the leather covered fingers. Touché. “I’m Killian, by the way, and on that note – I hope I’m not overstepping here – but I did a quick run to the canteen just now and… well I couldn’t help but notice you looked quite cold, so if you’d like I grabbed an extra beverage.” He held a red cardboard cup with glorious steam rising from the rim out towards her.

“Oh, thanks that’s really nice…”  Emma was filled with an odd sense of surprise and if she’s being entirely honest with herself, delight, “But what about your brother?” She leaned to glance over his shoulder towards the other man “He looks kinda chilly too, ya know.”

“Not to worry, love, that tosser can fend for himself.” He winked before the tip of his tongue made a brief appearance at the corner of his mouth, which Emma noted, perhaps a little too obviously.

“Thanks.” She smiled sweetly as she wrapped her extremely grateful fingers around the cup, she was in no position to turn down the offering. As it was, the hot liquid inside was already working wonders. Even if she didn’t drink coffee, her hands appreciated the warmth.

“My pleasure, love.” He narrowed his eyes in a positively sinful fashion and followed it up with another smirk as he settled back against his chair, slowly returning his gaze to the ice.

Emma twisted back towards Neal again, gripping the cup tightly and trying to process what had just happened. He noticed she was cold – had he been watching her? He must think she was an idiot in a sub-zero arena dressed like this. Although – now that she thought if it, he was wearing a plain white tee and leather jacket himself. How long was he sitting there? How had she missed him? Now that she knew he was there she was painfully aware that their thighs were practically touching. And that he smelled incredible – like sex in a bottle really. God, had she done anything stupid… Was he hitting on her? He had to notice she was with Neal. Maybe he was just friendly. They do say that about European people, don’t they? God, why was this getting her so worked up? Snap out of it Emma! Get a grip.

In an attempt to ground herself she took a quick sip from her cup and was surprised at the familiar sweet taste of hot chocolate, not coffee. The corners of her mouth turned up in a small smile and a gentle laugh escaped.

“Em, are you seeing this? Our guys on a breakaway!” Neal exclaimed back at her as one member of the red team charged towards the net on the far side of the arena and shot the puck powerfully towards the Goalie.

“HE SCORES!!” Neal thrust both arms into the air and jumped out of his seat joining the majority of the audience in celebration. Flashing red lights and what sounded like a siren blared over the speakers and Emma had to hold her cup strategically to prevent the liquid from spilling in response to all the jostling. After some raucous high 5s to the strangers with painted faces in the seats behind them, Neal sat back down and casually put his arm around her.

“This is great, babe, it means we’ll have a lead going into the third period!” Neal smiled, and she returned it, her mood drastically improved by her warmed hands and the much-needed sugar rush. Maybe she was being too hard on him earlier. Freezing to death will do that to a person. He cupped her shoulder and pulled her in to a side hug.

“Jesus, Em, you’re freezing!” he recoiled and she fixed him with an annoyed look of contempt. “Sorry, self preservation.” He held his hands up as if he didn’t have a choice and turned back towards the game. Right. Emma sighed and shook her head slightly.

No phone, a total douche to her right and gods gift to women unforgettably on her left, she was forced to actually pay attention to the game. From what she could gather, the score was 1-0 in their favor and they were coming up on a break before the final period. At least then she might have some distraction watching the dancers, lights display and other entertainment. Plus, Neal may be less entranced and actually hold up a bit of a conversation.

Or not! As it turns out, Neal had other plans. As soon as the horn signaled the end of the second period, he pulled out his tablet and started tweeting, blogging, and instagramming his thoughts on the game. Out of the corner of her eye Emma was pretty sure she saw more than one self-assured gif directed towards fans of the opposing team. Whatever, she was two thirds through this and before she knew it she would be at home in a nice bubble bath. Depositing her empty cup by her foot for now, she leaned back and took in the show. Some kids were invited onto the ice to play games for free pizza, and a short man with an apparently cantankerous disposition was hampered with the duty of shooting t-shirts into the crowd out of a giant cannon. When one landed just below them a full-on dog pile resulted – seriously, grown men and their sports paraphernalia. She didn’t think she’d ever get it. All the while Neal remained totally unfazed. Rolling her eyes, she noticed that over the speakers, “We will rock you” was faded out as a poppy rendition of “Love will keep us together” took over. Emma glanced up at the jumbo-tron and saw a heart shaped frame focusing in on random couples throughout the stadium, urging them to kiss to the cheers of the crowd. God, how embarrassing. What if you were there with your brother?

Before she could finish that thought, she was shocked to see herself and Neal, completely consumed with his online trolling, focused on the giant TV. If there was one thing Emma could think of that was more embarrassing than kissing on the jumbo-tron at a professional sports game, it was being ignored on one!

The crowd immediately surrounding them began to hoot and cheer, an electric excitement buzzing and Emma wanted to get the whole thing over with so the camera man could move on to his next victim.

“Neal!” Emma called placing a hand on his forearm, urging him to look up.

“Just a minute babe, I’m right in the middle here.” His eyes were laser focused on the tablet as his fingers danced frantically over the screen. Emma felt her cheeks begin to flush and her heart race in mortification.

“No, Neal seriously, look up!” She pleaded, stretching her hand out to point towards the kiss cam. The crowd kept cheering, but a few were beginning to laugh, some people were pointing, above the roaring noise and blasting music she could make out a chorus of “Kiss her! Kiss her!”

“Emma, 5 seconds, I’m about to make this kid look like a total jack ass!” he snorted. Emma’s breath escaped in a scoff, what the fuck! She was going to kill him! Totally livid, and a bit hurt, not that she’d ever admit to that, she couldn’t help feeling totally alone in the moment. A little bit of panic snuck in and she felt desperately like she was drowning, without a lifeline. Oh God, just get me out of here!

She began to shrug her shoulders and raise her eyes, hands upturned when warm fingers slid gently up her left thigh and paused on her knee with a small squeeze. A shoulder pressed against her own, and a pair of pillow soft lips came to rest aside her ear lobe,

“A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets.”

The words tickled across her cheek and a thrilling rush of adrenaline shot down her spine as she drew in a sharp breath. In total disbelief of what was happening – in front of tens of thousands of people no less – Emma slowly turned to face Killian. She let go of the breath she was holding, and glanced from his eyes, to his lips, and back up again. He was looking at her in a way Neal never had. Almost like she was something precious. Her heart was pounding in her ears, completely drowning out the crowd. Her head felt fuzzy and her stomach was filled with butterflies. Oh God, she was going to pass out. Yup. That’s about right, that’s how this ends, complete and utter humiliation.

“I don’t mean to embarrass you, love, but a woman as beautiful as you deserves a man’s full and prompt attention.” At that he ran his tongue across his bottom lip and curled his mouth into a completely wicked grin.

Emma looked over her shoulder at Neal, who was still oblivious. Then to the Kiss Cam, which panned from left to right, Neal to Killian.

She met his eyes – shock replaced with revelation – and said,

“You’re fucking right!”

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and pulled him towards her, capturing his lips in a fierce and passionate kiss. The crowd went absolutely wild, but all Emma could hear was Killian’s moan of surprise. He seemed a bit stunned for only a second before threading his fingers through her hair and slanting his mouth over hers in a follow up kiss. She steadied herself by splaying her hands against the firmness of his chest while she absolutely melted into him. He kissed her like nobody ever had before. Her entire body hummed with electricity, from her finger tips, all the way to her toes and if she hadn’t remembered she was broadcast over a fucking 200-foot screen right now she would have climbed astride him and took this thing up a notch.

“Em, what the hell!” shouted Neal behind her as she emerged from the haze that had been consuming her. She turned to see him, covered in popcorn and half eaten hot dogs, the subject of jeers and scowls from everyone around.

“What a tool!”

“Jackass!”

“He’s way hotter anyway, hunny!”

Emma started to laugh as Killian began to unwind himself from around her and pull slightly back. She grabbed his arm just before it slipped completely away from her, and a second wind of boldness surged within her as she shrugged at Neal,

“Sorry babe, I’m right in the middle here.” She taunted before pulling Killian back in to another sizzling make out session amidst the hoots and howls of entire stadium.

     Ra���