#somehow this was the greatest video game event i have ever taken part in thanks to the awesome community (including the one ending in mc)

[traitorsinsalem]

goodness gracious mama mia

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

MHA Headcanon: Being Apart of Both The Baku + Deku Squads

(Description: Wow! I’m so happy with the amount of praise my FatGum fic has gotten! I cannot thank you guys enough for over 100 likes/reblogs, you all mean the world to me. This idea struck me in the dead of the night and I just had to write it down. Love you!)

~

~

Requester: No One!

Reader Gender: Gender Neutral (They/Them)

Style of Story: Headcanon(s) // Just some funny ideas I had. Nothing extremely romantic about this one, unless you count Denki’s insatiable flirting attempts as romance!

Word Count: 2.7K Words

WARNING(s): None, just a few cuss words here and there.

~

~

DekuSquad

Meeting

You were more than likely an OG of this group (with Deku, Uraraka, and Iida alongside you) and became fast friends on the first day of school together

You went to class early on the first day at UA (which was unusual for you since sleep is high on your priority list), but you wanted to make a good impression on the staff and meet potential new friends or allies in your career

You got there before most, sat in your designated seat, and people watched the unfamiliar faces in the classroom, trying to get a feel of the energy the kids presented. Not long after you sat down did a scene already break out between a stiff, but kind-looking bluenette who shouted orders at an aggressive blonde with spiky hair. They bickered for a bit, it was eventually calmed down by the teacher, but you noticed a few people at the doorway having a conversation

A brown haired girl and a green haired boy who looked like he was about to die from blushing too hard were standing near the door with the bluenette from earlier. They were all smiling so wide and all had such different personalities that it made you smile, deciphering in your head that there was no way you were leaving this school today without saying ‘hi’ them

Eventually, over the course of the school day (before the whole incident with the fake expulsion) you introduced yourself to the three, and you being the sweet cutie you are, were quickly accepted into the trio as one of them

And the rest is pretty much history! All of you became besties from that point on, dragging Tsu, Momo, and a reluctant Todoroki (at first) into the whirlwind that is your friend group!

What Do They Think Of You Personally

Deku: You’re one of his best friends, he can trust you with pretty much anything. He even considers telling you about One For All once, but sadly that is too big of a secret to tell (for now), but he’ll tell you basically anything else! Learning about your quirk, your goals and dreams, and just plain talking with you always puts him at ease. You help him with his life problems and stressors, even when he’s mumbling away and overthinking you give him a moment to let him get all of his thoughts out instead of interrupting him. He hopes to be heroes with you to the very end, never forget that!

Uraraka: She absolutely adores you! Smart, funny, sweet, you’re the whole package. You’re trustworthy and the drive you have in life keeps her motivated to be a hero with you. You help each other out, she values this friendship more than some others. She feels she can go to you for anything, she only hopes that you feel the same way with her because she has no doubt in her mind that she will go to hell and back for you.

Iida: For awhile he didn’t understand why Midoriya and Uraraka liked you so much. Don’t get me wrong, he found you fun to hang out with and nice, but he never really saw why they blindly trusted you. That is, until you came to visit Izuku, Shoto, and him in the hospital the weekend after the Hosu/Stain (but you don’t know about the villain) incident. You wished for them to get better, gave each of them a handwritten card and baked goods before leaving to get back to UA, parting with a wide smile and hugs for them all. He finally fully sees your kind nature and the open honesty you give to everyone, and is ready to be a hero with you for as long as you deem necessary. The kindness you gave him that day affected him more than you will ever know, as you helped him see past his plot of revenge and strive to be a hero not to hurt others but to change the world so tragedies like this never happen again.

Tsu: She noticed early on how you always brighten a room whenever you’re there, so she (along with many others) were drawn to that warmth. She appreciates your understanding and forgiving attitude, she feels like she doesn’t have to hide or be ashamed of who she is around you. The USJ incident really made her think about how precious life is and how quickly it can be taken away, so she is grateful that someone as generous as you decided to be friends with her and the rest of the DekuSquad.

Todoroki: Apprehensive of you at first (like he was with everyone), but after you showed your loyalty and dedication to not your work but your friendships, he wants to get to know you better. It’ll take awhile to get past his cold exterior, but if you stay he’ll consider you one of his greatest allies. Plus, you can teach him how to open up to others and learn to love again, who wouldn’t want to help Shoto?

Momo: She knows she’s smart so she’s more than happy to help you with school work (if you need it, that is). The first time she knew she could fully trust you is when Mineta was perving about her hero uniform and tried to inappropriately touch her, but you grabbed and punted him at least 50 yards into the distance while screaming, “Women's rights, perv!” and ever since that day you’ve been her knight in shining armour. She always thinks about inviting you as her guest first when she has to attend fancy dinners/parties with her parents. She appreciates all your help with protecting her and the other girls in Class 1-A, but also a great friend. If you ever need anything, she’ll be there first to help!

Hanging Out / Having Fun / Random Things

Group. Study. SESSIONS! Seriously. You have some of the smartest people in Class 1-A in the DekuSquad with you, if you don't use that knowledge to your benefit, I’ma slap you. They’re always willing to help one another out, no matter how immense the problem.

Mario Kart, Apples to Apples, even Hide-And-Seek (in and outside the dorms), everything is on the table for Group Game Night (and, yes, Group Game Night is a weekly event)

You train with Deku, Todoroki, and even Uraraka sometimes on the weekends and HOE BOI, you haven’t felt true envy until you jokingly test to see if a cutsie green-haired 16 year old can bench your entire body and feel your soul die as he actually lifts you up and over his head with ease

Your noodle arms could never. You just want to be sTRONG!!! (I feel that)

You cannot make a self deprecating joke in front of them. Ever. Even if you THINK about making one, you will be sat down on a comfy chair, given a glass of milk and a cookie, and counseled on your emotions and well being until the dorm’s curfew

They just love and care about you. Why can’t you see yourself the way they do? (K, I made myself cry with that one.)

Anyways, it’s wholesome, cinnamon roll energy 24/7. Finally, the serotonin we all need.

~

~

----------------

~

~

BakuSquad

Meeting

You’re a little late getting into the BakuSquad, but you get there eventually!

You, Mina, and Kirishima are paired up for a group project in the middle of the year. Sad that you can’t be with your normal friend group in this project, you try to look on the bright side and enjoy their company.

You three end up having way too much fun. Opting to, instead of doing the homework, end up playing video games with Kirishima, Mina, and a flirty blonde named Kaminari, hanging upside down on the ceiling with the smiley blacknette, Sero, pretending to be “Spiderman” while relaxing with the spunky Jiro, and eventually getting caught by the angry blonde from the first day of school named Bakugou, who forces the three of you to sit down and finally get the work done before it was too late, but even that was fun!

Later that weekend, you all plan to meet up at the mall (Bakugou being dragged along by Kirishima) and hang. You ended up running around the different floors laughing like maniacs, getting way too many sugar highs from eating too much candy, somehow end up in a Taco Bell parking lot at 1AM screaming “Bohemian Rhapsody” to the moon while drinking Baja Blasts together, and having to sneak back into the dorms carrying a derpy Kaminari carefully inside because he blew out his power trying to impress you with a flirty pickup line.

You stumbled into your dorm after hearing a quick, “Night, (Y/N)!” from Kirishima since he had kindly walked you to your room to make sure you got back okay, and took a deep breath in while leaning against the door. You walked to your bathroom mirror and looked at your frizzled hair, colorful stained lips from the candy you’d eaten, the empty Baja Blast cup in your hand that you had used as a microphone, and smiled. You have got to stay friends with these idiots.

And that you did, the crazy BakuSquad has a new member!

What Do They Think Of You Personally

Bakugou: I’ll just say this, it takes guts to befriend a person like him, and he knows it, so he pretends to hate you and your determination to stay by his side (as he does with most people) for the LONGEST time. It takes him years to show you his softer sides, but when he does break down those barriers for you it’s well worth the wait. After that, he trusts you with his life, and him with yours. He hates to admit it because he has seen the crazy in you around the others, but you are caring and would take all the time in the world to listen to his or anyone else's problems. He knows you’ve seen the tough things in life and he respects you for it. You’ll be a strong hero, just not better than him!

Kirishima: Honestly after meeting the BakuSquad and now you, his self esteem has never been higher! He was struggling for the longest time with self doubt but after befriending all of you he knows that he finally has a place in this world and people who care about him for more than his quirk. You give him an even bigger reason to keep striving to be a hero, if he can meet amazing people like you in his career path then he never wants to leave. He sees that project as one of the best things that has ever come out of school!

Denki: Definitely tries (and fails miserably) to score a date with you an ungodly amount of times. He can’t help it, you’re so pretty and nice and if you were his significant other he’d be over the moon. If you’re not comfortable with his flirting, he will eventually lay off, but that won’t stop him from daydreaming of being with you. Fate or not, meeting you feels like a dream, and with you being kind to literally everyone around you, it would have been impossible for him to resist being friends with you either way. He loves you and admires your strength as a hero, you’re both gonna go far together.

Mina: She feels that getting paired together for that project was destiny in the works! You make everyone so happy and she feels blessed that she can help you learn how to let loose and go with the flow. You two have an infinite amount of gossip supply, the tea is never not hot or empty. You both have some righteous dirt (but you’re both nice enough to not cause chaos within UA, so it stays on the ground).

Sero: The life the BakuSquad gained from you joining is indescribable. You are like the cool parental figure who turned into a thrill junkie, and seeing that transformation was absolutely hilarious. He enjoys your company, where the room can be filled with noise or dead silent but still be comfortable, he lives to find those people. Plus, being non-judgmental means that he’ll open up to you about more than what others see. 10/10, you two vibe together.

Jiro: Best buddies. You fight alongside her in defending the women of UA from pervs, so that is already a huge gain. She loves sharing her music taste with you and you with her, you’ve opened up her tastes far more than she ever imagined (because of you she listens to the catcher pop songs more now than just straight punk 24/7, good for you!) Your opinion is one of the few she won’t brush off, so she’ll listen to what you have to say too.

Hanging Out / Having Fun / Random Things

The chaotic, feral energy you guys have is something else, my dude. Just thinking about it gives me shivers (I pray for Aizawa sometimes).

Intense battles of Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, Just Dance, and Cards Against Humanity every weekend (Bakugou always wins because he gets all the nastiest/funniest cards)

Who you are with the DekuSquad (calm, careful, collected) gets YEETED away when the BakuSquad comes into play. You go batshit, and it feels good! Like, you’re still kind and caring, but you add a dash of crazy in there when Kaminari starts bumping the Crazy Frog song, so you finally decide it’s okay to let loose with them. It’s a full on identity crisis if I’ve ever seen one.

But don’t be mistaken, if ever someone in the squad needs help or is hurt in any way, you’re all over it. You’ll counsel, hug, and/or kill whoever you need to make sure your friends are okay (and vice-versa with everyone else too)

You sometimes train with Bakugou and Kirishima after school. It’s tough, so you don’t do it often, but when you do you never leave feeling you could have put in more effort. Bakugou’s taunts and Kiri’s encouraging words always compel you to give more and more, to the point of you feeling like passing out at the end.

Weird side note: Bakugou’s parents love all of you like you’re their own kids??? IDK why, but I have a feeling if he ever brought the BakuSquad (+ you) home to hang and meet his parents, they would fall in love and adopt you guys faster than Katsuki can say “DIEEE!”

~ ~

----------------

~ ~

Both Groups Together

What Do They Think Of You Being In Both Groups

DekuSquad: They don’t care at all. You’re allowed to be friends with whoever you want. True, they’ll be sad when they make plans together but you can’t make it because you’ve already planned to hang with the BakuSquad and get nervous when they see your Snapchat story update that Denki got himself stuck in a trashcan trying to impress you, but that’s okay! They’ll just let you know if anything important or hilarious happens when you're gone! All in all, it’s great.

BakuSquad: They pretty much feel the same as the DekuSquad, who are they to choose who you associate yourself with, but Bakugou is still pissed to this day that you cannot/will not pick a “side”. He honestly sees it as a test, if he can make you officially be in the BakuSquad and not hang out with those “extras” anymore, then he beats Deku in yet another thing. He’ll eventually come to terms with the fact that your friendships and feelings aren’t a game, but he’ll still keep it a personal goal to try and make his group more enjoyable to be around so you potentially be on only his side. The rest of them don’t view you as property to be owned, your life is your life!

Both Hanging Out: Getting Bakugou to chill with “losers” who aren’t his own team is extremely difficult. He doesn’t play nice with others, even sometimes his own squad! But everyone else enjoys the opposite squad’s vibe, so if you guys wanted to have a group movie night or just a massive hang out, everyone would be down! Get ready for countless nights of gossiping with the girls and playing pranks on other students with the boys (and maybe running away from a furious Aizawa)!

~

~

~ THE END! ~

[welllpthisishappening]

Out of the Frying Pan (39/40)

“You think that’d be ok?” Emma asked, voice low and nervous. She couldn’t imagine how he’d actually heard her. Of course he had.

He beamed at her, eyes bright and this wasn’t fair. He wasn’t playing fair – between the tux and the baby holding and that stupid, supportive smile that might have been three quarters of the reason she’d fallen in love with him in the first place, Emma was a lost cause.

“I do,” Killian said, thumb trailing across her collarbone. Emma’s hands landed on the front of his jacket, tugging him towards her and they should get better at this whole responding thing because it seemed, more often than not, they ended up kissing instead.

AN: Guys. Guys. Guuuuuys. This is the last week of updates and I am a mess of emotions and feelings and general thankful’ness for how consistently fantastic you are. @laurnorder & @distant-rose continue to be the greatest humans - EVEN IN HURRICANES. Tell them they are fantastic, internet. 

Also on Ao3 and tag’ed up on Tumblr. 

“Mom!” Emma groaned and Mary Margaret laughed, fingers twisting her hair into something that, hopefully, wouldn’t be a knotted mess by the end of the night. “You’re almost done,” she promised, glancing at her reflection in the mirror and tugging on Emma’s hair again.

“And I also have a very impatient kid.” “Yeah, well,” Mary Margaret countered. “At least he’s voicing his impatience and not just wailing about it. I swear, it’s becoming like clockwork now. Every night at some point between 2:45 and 3:07, Leo starts wailing. Every night, I swear.” “3:07?” Emma repeated, eyebrows lifted in something that might have been skepticism, but was mostly just being impressed by the newborn’s timeliness.

“3:07. Every night.” “You should send that to someone. Or tell someone. Go viral. The great clock-watching baby.”

“I’d settle for him sleep consistently for a few hours at a time.” “You’re supposed to let him cry it. That’s what all the books say.” “Did you ever let Henry cry it out?” Mary Margaret asked, eyeing Emma appraisingly in the mirror as she circled the braid on the back of her head.

“Nah,” Emma admitted, laughing softly. “It’s easier said than done.” “Exactly.” Emma grinned at Mary Margaret – a bit stunned at what she’d been able to do with her hair and her makeup, living up to her promise to Ruby that Emma didn’t need to pay a professional when she has me – her hand brushing over the back of her neck.

It was the first time Leo Henry Nolan had been allowed out of the relative comfort of his apartment since arriving in the world about a month before – barring two trips to the doctor and one vaguely terror-filled, middle-of-the-night trip to the emergency room a week and half ago when the newborn had been diagnosed with colic and Mary Margaret cried when Emma walked into the waiting room.

She’d blamed it on post-pregnancy hormones then and it was so goddamn endearing Emma wasn’t even that upset about being called out of her bed at 1:34 in the morning.

She crawled back under the blankets nearly two hours later – never actually admitting that she’d been just as worried about Leo Henry as his slightly frantic parents had been – an arm wrapping around her waist with a soft noise and a brush of his lips on the back of her neck.

He’d stayed.

And they hadn’t really talked about it – not after that night and the revelation that his entire restaurant was willing to help make sure he got the warehouse back or Emma had, somehow, made certain Regina got to adopt her son. He’d simply followed her to her room and never really left.

He’d slowly, but surely taken over a corner of her closet and, perhaps more importantly, a corner of her kitchen, baking supplies earning a cabinet all to their own and no one appreciated that more than Henry – a brand-new soccer team to feed and an Iron Chef to impress them with.

Killian was mostly surprised that almost thirteen-year-old kids were, apparently, very impressed by an Iron Chef with a particular knack for baking things en mass, but Emma wasn’t – certain it had a lot more to do with his knowledge of soccer and the way Henry lit up every single time he appeared on the sideline.

“How’s he doing?” Killian muttered and Emma pressed back against his chest, sighing softly when his fingers ghosted across her stomach.

“Colic,” she said softly. He was incredibly warm and his arm tightened around her waist, tugging her closer against him and it shouldn’t have made her heartbeat pick up the way it did. Killian hummed softly and Emma was glad it was dark and the middle of the night and that her back was to him because the smile on her face – and the want in the pit of her stomach – probably would have been embarrassing if he saw it.

He was in the living room now, shouting something at the TV and Emma heard Henry’s laughter echo through the entire apartment as a zombie died particularly loudly. She was grinning like an idiot, almost oblivious to slightly stunned expression on Mary Margaret’s face until she pinched the skin on her shoulder.

“Jeez, M’s,” Emma hissed, glaring at her sister-in-law’s reflection. “That hurt.” “What’s happening with your face?” “Excuse me?” “You’re all glossy.” “Can’t you fix that with makeup?” “Yeah, that’s not what I’m talking about.” Henry shouted for her again and Emma wasn’t certain if he wanted her to hurry up or just see the replay of what sounded like a particularly impressive zombie kill. Emma opened her mouth to question what exactly Mary Margaret was talking about, but there was a knock on her bedroom door, half closed so she could get dressed earlier without threat of someone bursting in, and David leaned around the corner, eyes practically squeezed shut.

“You’re fifteen,” Emma accused, shaking her head. “Come on in, everyone’s dressed. You’re not actually interrupting anything.”

“Yeah, well I’ve never sent you off to some sort of major network event, let me have this.” “I literally went to a network holiday party a couple of months ago.” “And I had to watch your kid.” Emma rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to point out that he’d done the same exact thing when she’d gone to prom in Storybrooke, but didn’t want to hear stories about the dress or how her date had snuck alcohol into the punch in the back corner of the gym. David and Mary Margaret had to pick her up.

She’d gotten drunk.

Really drunk.

And spent the night hiding out in Mary Margaret’s bedroom – trying to avoid Ruth until she was one hundred percent sober the next day.

“Speaking of which,” Emma said, turning in the chair Mary Margaret had put in front of the full-length mirror on the inside of her closet door to stare at her brother. “Where exactly is your kid?”

Mary Margaret gasped softly – like she’d only just realized Henry Leo wasn’t draped over David’s shoulder – and he glared at Emma, eyes narrowing again until they were no more than slits on his face. “Thanks a lot,” he muttered. Emma just shrugged. “Killian’s got him.” “Killian?” Emma asked, several body parts flipping at the idea of her boyfriend, presumably also dressed for a major network event, holding her nephew in her living room. David nodded and Emma was halfway down the hallway before Mary Margaret yelled something about not ruining your hair.

He was dressed and he must have gotten ready in Henry’s room because she and Mary Margaret had been camped out in her bedroom for the past forty-five minutes. She’d been, at least partially, right – Henry was playing video games and killing zombies, but Killian wasn’t sitting on the couch, standing, instead, a few feet in front of it with a sleeping newborn propped up against his shoulder, a towel guarding his shirt underneath.

He was bobbing up and down, almost like he was rocking back and forth on his heels, arm underneath Leo Henry’s legs, prosthetic resting lightly on his back.

And Emma wasn’t sure she’d actually ever be able to move again – certain she’d only ever be able to see this picture in front of her eyes for the rest of her life.

All things considered, it wasn’t really a bad way to go.

It didn’t last as long as she would have liked – that almost perfect moment in the middle of her living room – before Henry got eaten by a zombie, throwing his controller into one of the pillows in the corner of the couch and slumping further down into the cushions. He noticed her then, eyes going wide at the side of her network event-ready look.

“Sounded like you died a pretty horrible death there,” Emma laughed, noticing Killian’s back straighten when he heard her voice.

Henry shrugged, shaking his hair out of his eyes and maybe she could get Mary Margaret to cut it again tonight. “I got to a new level though, so I guess it’ll be worth it. Uncle David said he’d help once you guys were gone.” “Yeah, we should probably leave soon. Or will leave soon. I don’t know, Ruby set up the car so it’ll probably be here five minutes before it’s supposed to.”

Leo Henry made a noise and Killian murmured something in his ear, turning around as he spoke and that wasn’t fair – the look on his face and the fit of the tux and there was a goddamn baby in his arms. And Emma might have been the worst person in the world because she’d just thought of her nephew as a goddamn baby.

“Swan,” he said softly and Henry didn’t even groan, just glanced at them wide-eyed and expectantly. The floor in the hallway creaked and Emma knew David and Mary Margaret were a few feet away and it all actually felt a little bit like prom. “You look incredible, love.” She couldn’t find it in herself to argue with him – no sign of a sarcastic response or even a quiet scoff, not when he was looking at her like that. And certainly not when Mary Margaret had twisted her hair into some kind of braided crown at the nape of her neck and her makeup was better than it had probably ever been on TV and her dress might have actually been the most expensive thing she’d ever bought.

It wasn’t red, but it didn’t seem to matter – not when Killian’s eyes traveled up the slit on the side and she should probably put her heels on because the hem was dragging on the floor.

They’d probably look good on camera together.

And in print.

There were going to be print photographers there, a fact Ruby had done her best to impress upon Emma in the leadup to the event and a major reason why she hadn’t had some sort of coronary when she realized how much the dress cost.

It cost a lot and it was the wrap event for the all-star thing and there were going to be photographers and reporters and cameras and Emma Swan and Killian Jones were making their first, public appearance as some sort of celebrity chef couple.

She’d worked out her nerves on that particular situation by spending an absolutely obscene amount of money on the dress she was going to wear.

It was worth it for the reaction.

“Pictures,” Mary Margaret yelled, giving up her not-so-secret position around the corner of the hallway. David groaned and Henry laughed and tiny-Nolan gurgled, earning another string of muttered words from Killian as he walked towards Emma, eyes not entirely appropriate considering he was still carrying a newborn.

He adjusted Leo Henry, resting more of his weight on his right arm and trailing his left hand over her arms. “You look incredible,” he said, repeating himself and Emma bit the side of her tongue as Mary Margaret rummaged in her bag to find her phone.

“You said that already,” Emma pointed out.

Killian smirked at her, one eyebrow lifted up and the living room suddenly seemed much warmer than it had a few minutes before. “Give me a bit more privacy and, I promise, I’ll come up with a few more adjectives, love.” Emma laughed, not quite sure she could come up with a coherent thought, let alone some kind of actual response.

She didn’t have to.

Mary Margaret had, apparently, found her phone – a fact she announced to the entire living room, loudly.

Leo Henry didn’t appreciate that at all,  voicing his displeasure against Killian’s shoulder and he seemed more entertained than anything, smiling as he handed the month-old kid to David. The buzzer downstairs sounded and the car was here – seven minutes before its schedule arrival time – and Emma laughed again.

“Ah, will you look at that,” she said, tugging on the cuff of Killian’s shirt as she tried to make her way towards her door. “Looks like we’ve got to go.” David sighed, some sort of disappointed older brother look painted on his face and Emma’s shoulders sagged. There was no getting out of this. “Come on, Swan,” Killian said, pulling his hand away only to lace his fingers through her and bring her back into the middle of the living room, half blocking Henry’s view of the TV.

“Mom,” Henry groaned, twisting his head to try and look around her.

“Two seconds to make M’s happy will not kill you, kid.” Mary Margaret beamed at them, ushering them back in front of the TV and holding her phone up like she was actually some kind of professional photographer. “Smile,” she commanded and Killian’s arm tugged Emma closer to his side and it was absolutely just like prom.

“M&M’s are you almost done?” Henry asked and Emma clicked her tongue, not entirely appreciating the tone of his voice. He sighed dramatically, zombies taking over some town or city or something on the screen without him.

Mary Margaret clicked her phone a few more times and Emma’s patience was starting to wear thin as well. “Ok, M’s,” she said, tilting her head meaningfully. “There’ll be plenty of cameras there so you can get pictures from them too. The car’s going to leave without us.” “The network paid a lot of money for that car,” Mary Margaret argued, David laughing softly at her determination as he tried to rock Leo Henry back into a state of calm and not crying in Emma’s living room. “It’ll wait.”

“Even so, seems rude to make the guy wait an hour for us to come downstairs.”

“It wasn’t an hour,” she grumbled, sinking back onto the couch and grabbing the other controller next to her. “Come on kid,” she said, nudging Henry’s shoulder. “Let’s kill things.” “M’s! Oh my God.” “You guys look really good,” she said, voice softening just a bit, which seemed almost ironic because she was unnaturally good at this. Henry gaped at her, mouth hanging open as her fingers practically danced over the controller, chopping off heads as she went. “Don’t come back here tonight, ok? Go back to Killian’s apartment.” Henry did groan at that and David might have choked on the air he was trying to breathe. The tips of Killian’s ears had gone red and his arm slacked around her waist just a bit. Emma glared at her and Mary Margaret grinned back – zombies crying out for help in the background, or whatever it was zombies did when they died. Again.

“Go,” she said, smiling pointedly at Emma, the same way she’d looked at her in the mirror a few hours before. “And have fun and look good on camera. You know, again. For the professionals.” Emma shook her head, Killian’s arm tight around her again as she leaned forward to kiss Henry’s cheek, earning another groan for the maternal move. She brushed her knuckle over the back of tiny-Nolan’s leg and the buzzer sounded again.

“Impatient car guy,” David muttered. “Better hurry up. And don’t worry about us here, we’ll be fine.”

The buzzer sounded again and Killian was bordering on hysterical at this point, threatening to wake up Henry Leo in the process. “Come on, Swan,” he muttered and both David and Mary Margaret nodded at her encouragingly. Henry killed more zombies.

They were definitely late and Ruby was going to yell and Regina was going to glare and Emma didn’t care because as soon as they were in the car, Killian made good on his promise to come up with a few more adjectives about her dress.

She hadn’t expected this many cameras. There were a lot of cameras and it seemed a bit crazy to imagine that these cameras were there for them.

They cooked things.

They cooked things on TV and occasionally did it for charity and to get their TV shows back or expand their restaurants and those last two things still seemed a bit problematic.

Or at least one of them did.

Because The Jolly was going to expand – the ragtag family that lived in that dining room had made sure of it, pooling their money and their determination and a slew of laminated charts Regina had shown Emma a few weeks before.

And David had promised they’d get Gold.

Emma wasn’t worried about that.

David kept his promises and she could hardly argue laminated charts.

She was worried about her own show – and it was vaguely selfish, but Aurora’s story was supposed to come out that week and Emma was slightly terrified to see all of that in actual print with photos of her on set and promotional outtakes she’d shot with Killian months before. The story was supposed to fix everything.

And no one had said anything one way or another. Not even the week before when they’d filmed the five-course extravaganza and Emma’s hands were cramping from so much spatula flipping and pan-holding and they had to pose for even more promotional photos for the cookbook they were going to sell over the summer.

It was exhausting – worry eating away at the back of her brain when she just wanted to be focused on how happy she was with everything else in her life.

“Deep breaths, Swan,” Killian whispered, muttering the words in her ear as he nudged her towards the doors.

She nodded once, a ridiculous, jerky movement that was going to look ridiculous and jerky on camera and tried to smile. There were cameras and it was all incredibly bright and they cooked for a living for God’s sake and she didn’t even have a show anymore.

This was ridiculous.

They weaved their way down the carpet – jeez, there was a carpet and this was Lincoln Center, there wasn’t supposed to be a carpet in Lincoln Center – Killian’s hand on her back and he was muttering in her ear still, the same vaguely encouraging sentiment for what felt like a mile of camera-studded walking.

It was Lincoln Center so the space was gorgeous and there were chandeliers and Emma wondered where the network had even gotten enough money for something like this. “See, Swan,” Killian said, grinning at her before nodding towards Belle and Will on the other side of the hall. And this was almost vaguely worth it to see Will Scarlett wearing a tuxedo at a network-sponsored event.

“Yuh huh,” Emma muttered and he laughed again, pulling her further into the room, grabbing two glasses of champagne off a tray as they moved. “Efficient,” she said, nearly downing the entire thing in one gulp.

“Just think how good we’ll look in all those pictures.” Emma smiled, almost not entirely worried about her show or getting her picture taken or how she’d won this whole stupid all-star event and no one had said a single word about it. “Hey,” he said sharply, hand wrapping around elbow. “You ok, love?” And she was – because he asked.

Because he cared.

And he stayed.

“Emma! Emma! Emma!” She jerked her head up, Killian’s hand tightening around her elbow to help keep her balance in this very long dress and very high heels and Ruby was practically sprinting across the hall, people all but jumping out of her path.

Dorothy was just a few steps behind, something like amusement flashing across her face. “Emma,” Ruby yelled again, throwing her hand up in the air as if she couldn’t see her already or hear her perfectly.

“You’re going to sprain your ankle,” Dorothy muttered when they both skidded to a stop a few feet in front of Emma and Killian.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Ruby muttered, thrusting something into Emma’s hand.

“What is this?”

“Swan,” Killian said, staring at it meaningfully. It was the magazine. It was her story – or it would be her story, once she actually opened the thing. She couldn’t really feel any of her extremities though, so that made it a bit more difficult to accomplish.

Ruby sighed dramatically when Emma didn’t move fast enough, grabbing the magazine back out of her hand and flipping open to the page that was absolutely bookmarked three quarters away through. “It’s good, Em,” she said, holding it open like it was show and tell at Lincoln Center.

“Really good,” Dorothy added.

“You did everything right, Emma. Everything. You were you and people are going to love it. Seriously. Have you seen Zelena yet?” Emma shook her head slowly, eyes roving across the crowd. “We literally just got here,” she said, ignoring Ruby’s disappointed glare at her arrival time.

“The car was got to your apartment like an hour ago!” “How do you even know that?” Ruby shrugged, snapping the magazine closed again and sticking it underneath her arm. “Why do I need to see Zelena?” “To talk about your show,” Ruby said, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. “Or the future of your show.” “What?” Emma said, voice cracking and Killian was still there, arm moving up to her shoulders and lips brushing against the top of her head. Ruby groaned, personally offended at this public display of affection.

“If you guys could control yourselves for like two seconds,” she mumbled, ignoring Dorothy’s soft relax behind her. Emma rolled her eyes. “I’d tell you that Zelena wants to talk to you, Em. About your show. And getting it back on the air. And maybe changing a few things, but, you know, getting back on the air. Soon. Or soon’ish at least.” “Wait, wait, I don’t understand,” Emma said, wishing she hadn’t drank her champagne that quickly. She needed something to do with her hands.

“What exactly does soon’ish mean?” Killian asked.

Ruby leveled him with a glare and he didn’t back down and there was something about this weird protective gene that seemed to active between both of them. “Soon’ish means exactly what it sounds like,” Ruby said. “Emma will get back on the air soon’ish, but I think we’re going to change the approach a bit.” “How?” Emma said sharply, cutting into the conversation, not interested in protective genes or pointed stares anymore.

“How what?” “How will we change the approach?” “To you.”

Emma blinked and Ruby grinned at her like she’d just told her she’d won the lottery. “I don’t get it.” “You were you in that story, Em. Up front and honest and open and I’m not saying you have to be that every minute of every day, but if you could bring some of that to your show and your set and people’s TV screens on Sunday morning, I think we could see the numbers shoot through some sort of metaphorical roof.” “You’re still not making any sense, Rubes,” Emma sighed, frustration eating into the corners of the sentence.

“Think about it.” Emma sighed, exasperation rolling off her in waves and she opened her mouth to, maybe, shout something at Ruby about talking in riddles, but Killian stepped in front of her, hands on her shoulders and a look of pure determination in his eyes. “Swan,” he said evenly. Fuck. His eyes were blue.

“Yeah?” “Think about it, love,” Killian continued, repeating Ruby’s words and she audibly scoffed behind him. He didn’t even blink. “You could make whatever you want. You could get new appliances. A theme you don’t secretly hate.” “You hate your theme?” Ruby cried and Emma let out a shaky laugh.

Killian didn’t move, kept looking at her intently, one side of his mouth pulled up. “You can just be you, Swan.” “You think that’d be ok?” Emma asked, voice low and nervous. She couldn’t imagine how he’d actually heard her. Of course he had.

He beamed at her, eyes bright and this wasn’t fair. He wasn’t playing fair – between the tux and the baby holding and that stupid, supportive smile that might have been three quarters of the reason she’d fallen in love with him in the first place, Emma was a lost cause.

“I do,” Killian said, thumb trailing across her collarbone. Emma’s hands landed on the front of his jacket, tugging him towards her and they should get better at this whole responding thing because it seemed, more often than not, they ended up kissing instead.

Ruby groaned again and when Emma looked up at her, her producer’s entire head was thrown back, eyes glued on the ceiling.

“Ah,” Regina said, appearing out of nowhere with a glass of champagne in her hand, Robin just a step behind. “Are they doing that thing where they kiss each other instead of actually using words when one of them says something particularly emotional?” “Yes,” Ruby cried. “Exactly that. It’s gross.” “We’re standing right here,” Killian muttered.

Regina shrugged and Ruby made a noise in the back of her throat. “What do you think, Em?” she asked, getting back to business with the kind of professional whiplash that made her head hurt.

“What did Zelena say?” “The fact that she wanted to talk to you seems like a pretty good sign.” “She read the story?” Ruby nodded. “And talked to you about the show? And possibly skyrocketing ratings?” Two more nods.

“I’m not lying to you.” “I wouldn’t think you would be.” “The questions suggest otherwise.” Emma sighed and Ruby grinned at her like she knew she’d already won this particular argument. She probably had.

“Yes,” Emma said and Killian kissed the top of her head again.

“Yes, what? Exactly?” “Yes to redoing the show and being me on air or whatever. If I can get new appliances out of it, I’m willing to do just about anything.”

“If I’d known you hated your theme so much I definitely would have used that to my advantage in previous arguments,” Ruby said, crossing her arms forcefully.

“You’re going to mess up the beading on you dress if you do that.” “Emma!” She grinned, stepping out from Killian’s arms around her shoulders and pulling Ruby into a hug before she even had a chance to object. And she didn’t really – just grunted a bit when she nearly lost balance on her heels and wrapped her arms tightly around Emma.

“Congratulations, babe,” Ruby muttered and Emma couldn’t actually cry in the middle of this network event. “No one deserves it more than you.”

And Emma couldn’t quite breathe and it wasn’t because of the dress or Ruby’s soft words or Killian’s fingers trailing across the back of her neck.

Well, it might have been, at least, partially because of that.

It might have also been because, for the first time in just about as long as she could possibly remember, Emma was in control. Actually in control and not just the compartmentalized version she’d been certain was the way it had to be.

The walls were down and the boxes were folded and put away in some sort of metaphorical closet she hoped she never had to actually open again – a completely different one from the closet in her apartment, chock-full of Killian Jones’ clothes.

And maybe Emma Swan –  just Emma Swan – was enough.

“Did you tell her?” Belle asked, glancing questioningly in Ruby’s direction. The producer just hummed in the back of her throat, an agreement muffled slightly by her face pressed into Emma’s hair. “Good.” “How many people knew about this, Rubes?” Emma muttered, taking a step back and nearly colliding with Killian’s forearm.

“Just Belle. And I guess Will. And Robin and Regina. And Zelena. And Dor. Obviously. But she doesn’t really count.” “Thanks,” Dorothy mumbled and Ruby flashed her a smile that deserved its own magazine spread and several moments on that mile-long carpet in front of a small army of photographers and reporters.

“You guys were incredibly late,” Will said.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Killian asked. “Who’s running my bar?”

“Yeah, you’re not a very good boss. Or a very observant boss, at least. I told you I was coming to this thing like a week ago. After we talked about what kind of alcohol to stock the warehouse with. Then Emma showed up and you went home with her and, very clearly, forgot everything I told you.” “I remember the alcohol.” “Of course you do.” “We ordered a lot of rum and scotch as I remember.” “Yeah, well people drink a lot of rum and scotch.” “We drink a lot of rum and scotch,” Killian corrected. Will shrugged.

There was a noise that sounded like a gong in the background of the room and Emma suddenly realized there was a stage as well and a microphone stand with Zelena behind it. “Jeez,” Robin muttered, shaking his head in disbelief at everything that was going on in the middle of Lincoln Center. “Are we under attack?”

“I think that’s probably Zelena,” Emma muttered, glancing up at the network head as she took the stage, eyes sweeping across the crowd that had snapped to attention at the sound. Robin nodded in understanding.

Zelena tapped the mic and the music cut out and the murmurs of the crowd lasted just a few seconds under her vaguely heavy stare. Killian’s arm looped back around her shoulders and Emam wasn’t particularly interested in anything Zelena had to say when she could feel him next to her like that.

She turned on him, appreciating the way his eyes widened when her hand landed on his hip. “Can I talk to you?” Emma asked.

“Now? You’ll miss Zelena congratulating you on your incredible cooking effort.” “Yeah, I don’t care about that.”

Killian narrowed his eyes at her – like he was trying to figure out if she was telling the truth – hand falling back down to hers as she tugged him back towards the front doors. “Swan?” he muttered, catching her short.

“Yeah?” He scoffed out a quiet laugh, the corners of his mouth ticking up as he shook his head slightly. “You’re the one who wanted to talk, love. What about?” “Thank you,” she said, words falling out of her mouth without preamble or much thought. She didn’t know what else to say.

“For?” “For this. For...everything.” “I didn’t do anything, Swan. You did. You needed to get your show back and now you can, on your own terms.” “You ordered alcohol for Jolly 2.0?”

Killian nodded, thumb rubbing out a small circle on the back of her wrist. “A slightly obscene amount,” he laughed. “But, uh, yeah, we did. Marco’s almost done with a lot of it too. There’s apparently even several doors.” “Heat?” Emma asked, stepping closer to him.

“Not yet.” “Ah, maybe someday.” “Although, we’re getting fairly close to needing air conditioning. So I’m not overly focused on the heat aspect of it.” She hummed in acknowledgement and Killian narrowed his eyes again. “Emma?” he asked. “What’s going on? Really.” She took a deep breath, twisting her lips and trying to figure out how to actually put words to whatever she was feeling. “I’m just...happy.”

His eyes flashed, darting across her face and landing on her lips and she wasn’t entirely ready for him when he crashed against her, fingers wrapped around her wrist and yanking her forward. They were doing it again – kissing in response and if he wasn’t so incredibly good at this, Emma probably would have suggested they actually talk about something.

But he was incredibly good at this, hand around her neck and brace pushing into her back and Emma could feel every single inch of him in this dark corner they’d managed to find themselves in.

“That’s all I wanted, Swan,” Killian said, murmuring the words against her lips.

“Well, mission accomplished.”

He laughed, eyes bright and blue and staring straight at Emma. “What do you think the chances are of getting out of here without getting yelled at?” “Probably pretty slim.” “Yeah, that’s true,” he sighed. “Although as much as I’d like to get you home and, possibly, out of that dress, I do have to admit that it looks fairly good on.” Emma raised her eyebrows and they were ridiculously good at this too – the banter and the flirting and the making her stomach flip like she was fifteen. “Possibly?” she asked, skeptically and he smirked at her.

“Seemed rude to just jump to conclusions.” “Feel free to jump to that one.”

Zelena was still talking and it sounded like the crowd was actually applauding at this point and Emma still didn’t care, just pushed her hand back into Killian’s hair and felt her heart pick up when her lips caught his.

And, quite suddenly, the girl who’d never really thought she’d get anything, felt as if she had everything.

“Still with me, Swan?”

She mumbled a response, pressing her head into the crook of his neck and Killian brushed his lips across her hairline, tugging her against his side.

They stayed for four hours and they were, without question, the longest four hours of Emma’s life. She answered questions about her show and the return and when she’d be back in front of a camera again and then answered more questions about the all-star competition and the interview and, God help her, at least three questions about her relationship with Killian. And by the time they’d gotten in a car and back downtown, Emma was bordering dangerously close to exhausted.

Which didn’t really seem fair since she had vaguely big, life-changing plans for the rest of the night.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” she said.

“Good.” She didn’t say anything else, but she could feel him take a deep breath under her, chest moving with the effort of it. He hadn’t actually put his shirt back on and Emma’s very expensive, very well-fitting dress was mostly an afterthought at this point. “Emma,” he said again, and that was the second time he’d called her that.

It wasn’t making this any easier.

“Swan,” Killian muttered, softer this time, fingers trailing up and down her spine. “I can hear you thinking, love.” She huffed out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Maybe focus some of that energy on what it is I’m thinking then.” “Or you could just tell me.”

Emma propped herself up, resting her head up on her hand and Killian turned, following her gaze. “I have a proposition for you,” she said. “A deal, as it were.”

Killian’s eyebrow ticked up. “That word, though, Swan.” “I thought it might spark some interest.”

“To be fair, you’re fairly good at that on your own.” She felt something shoot through her chest at that and it might have actually been confidence. This was going to work.

“See, that’s a good place to start,” Emma said, goosebumps forming on her arm when he brushed his hand down it.

“What are you getting at?” Emma clicked her tongue. “No, no, we’re not rushing over this. I’m going to enjoy this.” “Go ahead, Swan.” “Well, I’ve noticed a couple of things over the last month or so.” “Like?” “Like how you’ve kind of settled into our lives. I mean me and Henry and, jeez, even M’s and David. And I’ve kind of settled in here. And it’s been good. Really good. I mean, you’ve got half your clothes in my apartment and more baking stuff than I ever actually knew existed.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, lips set in a straight line and it almost looked like he was nervous. That wasn’t right. He wasn’t supposed to be nervous.

He was supposed to play along.

“I can move some of the stuff, Swan,” Killian muttered. “If it’s…” “No,” Emma cut him off. “It’s not.” “It’s not?” “Did you miss the part where I said it was good?” Killian smiled slowly, the movement inching across his face. “Apparently,” he muttered.

“It’s good,” Emma repeated. “Really good. And I’m happy.” “That’s kind of the goal here, Swan.” “No, I know that. Jeez, will you let me finish?” Killian laughed, grin spreading wider, and he raised his eyebrows quickly. “I’m trying to tell you to stay.” “What?” he asked, voice shaking just a bit over the four letters.  

“Stay. You know, like, indefinitely. I mean, you’ve got enough clothes and baking supplies to last a lifetime. And it’s not ideal or anything. Henry will be there and David and Mary Margaret have keys and…” Killian shook his head, pulling Emma up until they were both sitting in the middle of his mattress, sheets and blankets twisted in between their legs. “Yes,” he said quickly, hand cupping her jaw when he looked at her.

“What?”

This wasn’t going the way she’d planned.

She’d planned to keep it light and easy and slightly veiled in sarcasm. She’d planned to stun him with that dress and bring him back to his apartment and spend time with him alone – for the first time in, quite possibly, a month – and she’d tell him how she loved him and how she wanted him around and he’d kiss her again and then they’d fall asleep together.

Or they’d kiss some more.

That part of the plan was a bit murkier.

And he absolutely wasn’t following the plan.

She hadn’t expected him to agree that quickly. She probably should have.

“What do you mean, what?” Killian asked.

“I mean, just like that? Yes and that’s that?” “Well, you haven’t actually asked me a specific question yet, Swan,” he laughed, eyes falling back to her mouth. “But, yeah, just like that.” Emma bit her lip and tried to take a deep breathe. It didn’t really work. “Move in with me,” she said, rushing over the words before she lost her nerve.

He kissed her then and at least that part of the plan seemed to have worked.

“You’re sure?” he asked softly, nerves practically rolling off him.

“Yeah,” Emma said with a conviction that didn’t surprise her. Not any more. Not when he looked at her like that.

“It’s not much of a deal, though, Swan. Generally that requires some sort of exchange of goods.” “Were there not baked goods involved?” He laughed – loud and the sound seemed to settle into Emma’s heart or some other vaguely ridiculous cliché and she was so goddamn happy she was positive she’d never be able to fall asleep. “There could be,” he said, thumb tracing the edge of her jaw until he pushed his fingers into her hair.

“See, seems like a pretty good deal then.”

“And,” Killian added, head ducking down as he kissed along the side of her neck. The goosebumps were back. “I don’t think it’s going to be nearly as messy as you think.” “No?” “Uh huh. In fact, I think it sounds fairly nice.” “Nice?” “A generic word, I’ll you give you that, Swan. But it’s still true. And it might be exactly what I want.” “Might be?” “I didn’t want to push.” “I think we’re past the point of no return on the whole pushing thing.” He hummed against her skin and Emma could feel Killian’s smile on the side of her neck. “That might be true,” he agreed. “I’m glad.” “Me too.”

She didn’t ever really get to sleep – but neither did he.

And David only laughed a little bit when they wandered into Granny’s the next morning, Leo Henry asleep in the carrier next to him. And Mary Margaret smiled at them and Henry asked if they could go the Piers later that afternoon.

She gave him a key that night.