#spent several hours on this so i hope someone finds it enjoyable xD

[becomewings]

Hi! What do you think is the significance of the umbrella/Jimin? It's being mentioned again. We recently saw it again in bbc live for Boy With Luv. We saw it before when he received an umbrella in exchange at the magic shop, and when Hoseok took the girl to hospital.

CW: contains mentions of trauma, blood, & drowning

Hello dear anon and thank you for your question! I will do my best to explain my interpretation and also provide a little more context for those who may be less familiar with the references you made.

I’m guessing that when you say it’s being “mentioned again,” you’re referring to the new third story of the Smeraldo Blog posted on July 15th, in which the florist Testesso witnesses a young man with an umbrella standing outside his unfinished shop during a typhoon. (If that wasn’t what you meant, please let me know!) The identity of the young man is unconfirmed, but plausible options include JiMin, due to the umbrella connection, and SeokJin, who is the only character so far who has definitely interacted with the florist in previous timelines. (Side note: if anyone would like to learn more about the contents of the Smeraldo Blog and the different versions of the stories, this post is a wonderful resource and is currently being updated for the 2020 revisions.) Second, I admit that due to the time difference I was unable to watch BangBangCon Live, so I had to search for some footage of the Boy With Luv performance. It looks like they all dance with umbrellas, though it’s perhaps a little striking that TaeHyung tosses his umbrella to JiMin at the beginning of the song. Regardless of the young man’s identity in the Smeraldo post and whether the BWL umbrella prop is a coincidence or a loose reference to BU (it certainly wouldn’t be the first time they incorporated such elements in their live shows and VCRs!), yes, JiMin’s connection to the umbrella is significant.

As you mentioned, in the Fake Love Teaser 1 we see JiMin exchange a photo of the arboretum for an umbrella in the video’s imagining of the Magic Shop. According to the teaser, “‘Magic Shop is a psychodramatic technique that exchanges fear for a positive attitude.” Psychodrama is a form of psychotherapy that engages clients’ self-reflections and insights with dramatizations and role-playing. Some Googling reveals that the real Magic Shop technique is broader than what is defined in the teaser, but it suffices for our purposes right now in considering BU.

JiMin’s fear is rooted in the truth of what happened in Grass Flower Arboretum on the day of his school picnic in Year 11. There are two forces that led him to witness/experience this traumatic event in the arboretum warehouse: first, the absence of his parents because they “were too busy to make it.” The mothers of JiMin’s friends praise him for being “mature and gentle.” JiMin seems determined to live up to this impression of maturity, rather than revealing how “down” he felt as the only unaccompanied student. So rather than waiting for his teacher, he sets off for home alone, confident that he can find the way on his own. The second force that leads him to the warehouse is the weather’s turn to rain. It is this element in particular, rather than the neglect of his parents, that stays with him for years to come.

“I began to run, holding my backpack over my head with both hands. The rain kept falling harder and harder. My pants got soaked in the rain after only a few steps. No shop, house, or bus stop came into sight. In the far distance, I could see a gate. I ran towards it without thinking. My hands felt numb from gripping the backpack. I was soaking wet, and my teeth were chattering. On top of the gate was a sign that read Grass Flower Arboretum. It was the back gate. There was a small warehouse just inside the gate.”

— JiMin, 6 April Year 11. The Notes 1.

Young JiMin does not have an umbrella and is forced to seek shelter at the first opportunity, which happens to be the warehouse. Later, he is found unconscious at the arboretum and taken to the hospital. When JiMin reflects on this in the May 11 Year 22 entry of Notes 1, he adds that his parents “didn’t ask any questions” about that or when he eventually developed seizures. There are many “what ifs” surrounding the event of April 6 Year 11. What if JiMin’s parents had accompanied him to the picnic? What if they had paid more attention and provided him an umbrella? What if they had been more present in his life, so that he did not feel the need to mask the disappointment of their absence from his peers and attempt the journey home alone?

But they didn’t, and they weren’t—and young JiMin sets off without an umbrella that day and lives with the consequences. We essentially experience the absence of the umbrella in some of the water imagery connected with JiMin in the MVs. The rest is connected with drowning and cleansing, both literally and metaphorically. As I note in my post Harboring Waters, “throughout the MVs and the Notes, we see that water, the element he uses to cleanse himself, is also the visual metaphor for his trauma. JiMin attempts to wash away his past rather than acknowledging his pain, only to drown again when his memories resurface.” In the years following the incident, he also conflates blood and mud: blood from what he witnessed/experienced in the warehouse and mud from the rain and his lack of umbrella.

“I closed my eyes and wished that this was all a dream and that, when I awoke again, I wouldn’t be able to recall anything.

That wish was just a wish. Instead, a cycle of seizures, injections, and injection-induced sleep that felt like falling off a cliff continued. After I awoke from that sleep, my whole body felt like it was covered with mud. Mud that looked like blood. No matter how hard I tried to wash it off, that warehouse smell lingered. I scrubbed until I bled, but it still felt dirty.”

— JiMin, 11 May Year 22. The Notes 1.

Even though JiMin presumably follows through with his plan on May 19 Year 22 of returning to the arboretum to face his fear (accompanied by YoonGi), he is still vulnerable to the triggers that recall the trauma of his past. On July 4 Year 22, JiMin collides with his dancing partner (HoSeok’s friend) and both are injured. The sight of his own blood nearly shuts him down as he desperately tries to wash it off. This leads to the scene you referenced, which is depicted in the Highlight Reel: JiMin chases after HoSeok and the unconscious girl with an umbrella but soon stops and turns around, realizing he won’t be of any help.

“Every time I took a step, rain splattered onto my sneakers. The headlights of cars swished by me. It’d rained on that picnic day a long time ago, just like today. On that day, I’d run away from the Grass Flower Arboretum. My body was covered with mud that looked like blood. I hadn’t grown up one bit from that little eight-year-old kid.”

— JiMin, 4 July Year 22. The Notes 1.

Now, back to the Magic Shop. JiMin exchanges a photograph representing the source of his fear for an object of protection that might bring him a more “positive attitude.” I think it is worth noting that all of the objects the characters receive from the masked seller are far from representations of lasting joy, and I believe that this was carefully calculated. They are temporary fixes or reassurances in much the same way that SeokJin’s manipulations of the timelines are largely reactive and short-sighted in his efforts to save his friends. An umbrella is only a temporary shelter until the stormy weather has passed; it does not banish the storm itself.

As I have mentioned in my recent JiMin-focused posts, his journey of healing is portrayed, realistically, as a complex one. It is not as simple as facing one’s fears and carrying an umbrella. There are progressions and setbacks, twists and turns on a road that might never truly end. Sometimes the umbrella may shield him from the storm, and sometimes it won’t. When that umbrella takes the shape of friends who accept and love him for who he is, then perhaps they will help guide him one step closer to accepting and loving himself.

I’ll end with one of SeokJin’s narrated quotes in the Highlight Reel, as it feels appropriate and is quite lovely:

“Though many seasons pass, there are places that cannot be reached. Yet another storm to be faced and to be weathered head-on. Loving without fear, hesitating and parting, merely living as the person I am.”

— SeokJin, Love Yourself Highlight Reel '起承轉結'

I hope that gave you some food for thought and wasn’t too long-winded! To anyone with their own ideas and interpretations, I would love to hear them! Please feel free to send them my way along with any other questions or feedback. ♡

[imaginesforthosewhoseekthem]

Just imagine a normally nice MC that is pissed off. Everyone will be kinda concerned and confused bc this docile, sweet human is threatening to behead them. This something I cannot get out of my head. It’s ok if you don’t do it, but thanks for taking the time to read this :)

((I might just be on a Danganronpa binge, but I picture MC snapping like this (Spoilers for Danganronpa if you’ve never seen or played it and intend on doing so. I’ll put a gif under it if it helps prove the point better) ))

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gt_qF8SbZ_I

                         I’m gonna TRY to take this seriously, I swear XD. Only doing this with the 7 bros atm, but lemme know if you guys want the undateables in the future.

SPOILERS FOR LESSONS 1-20, MOSTLY CUSA BELPHIE’S PART. I really hope this is okay, it took me a WHILE to write. There’s probably some grammar mistakes here and there, but I will fix them overtime))

Lucifer:

Lucifer was kinda putting pressure on you with chores and tasks, barely giving you time to rest. Eventually, it just kinda made you snap at him.

“CAN’T YOU DO THIS CRAP YOURSELF?! YOU MANAGE THESE 6 IDIOTS ALL THE TIME AND YOU CAN’T DO SOMETHING LIKE A SIMPLE CHORE OR TASK?!” you snapped at him.

Welp...it was nice knowing you. Depending on the types of relationship you have with Lucifer, his punishments are either personal...or “Private” if you get my drift.

WE KNOW YOU’RE A FREAKY BITCH, LUCI!

Either way, you DEFINITELY feel like you are dead meat once you realize it was LUCIFER you snapped at. 

If the others are in the room with you, Mammon will run, Levi will livestream it, Satan and Belphegor will either be there to laugh at you or encourage you to say worse, Beel will get a snack to watch and Asmo...well he’ll probably tell Luci to try not leave a mark on your body because that’s “his job”. Basically no one is helpful here.

Unless you’re not afraid of Luci or just stupid in which case, you keep runnin your damn mouth at him over stuff that will TOTALLY hurt his Pride. If you get one of his brothers to laugh, even SNICKER at him, you are in WORSE trouble.

Bonus points added to you getting screwed over by him if Diavolo was anywhere CLOSE to hear that,

Your ass is getting dragged to his room or office and getting a talking to or a “talking to” for SEVERAL hours straight.

Luci doesn’t take shit, He i the Avatar of Pride and will not let some human taint it.

Not gonna lie though...you DID catch him off guard and he did kinda ease up on the work because even though he’s way stronger than you, he does NOT wanna see you like that ever again

 Mammon:

Oh, he did it again. He got both of you in trouble. You snapped cus this was the third time in a row that week. Mammon’s making his stupid excuses and it just..unloaded onto him.

“WELL MAYBE IF YOU WEREN’T SUCH A SCUMBAG, WE WOULDN'T GET INTO SO MUCH TROUBLE!” you barked at him.

He. Was. Stunned. 

If you’re Lucifer levels of angry, he might even be a little scared of you. 

For a moment to defend himself, he may switch to how he was when you two first met.

“O-Oh yeah?! Who are you, a weak, feeble HUMAN to tell the Great Mammon what he is and isn’t?! I could crush ya right now if I wanted to!”

He’s bluffing so much even humans that WEREN’T there could see it.

“Oh, you know what? YA KNOW WHAT?! That is it! I am not even gonna speak to you til you are BEGGIN’ me to forgive ya!”

Yep, he’s really doing this. Obviously, you don’t care because you’re not the one that should be apologizing here.

The other 6 are actually pretty happy with this transaction. Finally, some silence from Mammon’s ever yapping pie-hole. He’s sitting there with a pout on his lip and slumped. He’s not going to say how sorry you’ll be in front of his brothers because he said HE wasn’t talking to YOU. So he doesn’t need it rubbed in his face.

Of course, being the Avatar of Greed, he’s up to his Greedy ways, so he’ll make whatever excuse he can to get his brothers away from you.

Not even a day has passed and he comes up saying he “forgives you for getting mad at him”. But if you still look upset with him, he does legit feel bad and apologizes...the MAMMON way lol.

“Well...I GUESS if it bugs you that much, I could keep outta trouble...Just for a little while, though! I ain't some softie! I’m too much of an awesome rebel for that~!” he said, trying so much to impress you with his “Bad Boy” attitude.

Deep down, he just doesn’t want to make his human mad at him again.

 Leviathan:

((Sorry if the reason isn't great, but this baby boy is too cute to have a reason to be mad at, I’m sorry! If Levi stans hate this, you have permission to slap me. I deserve it XD))

Levi had kept dragging you to play games with him and watch anime, but you had studying to do.

Whenever you tried to tell him you had to go study, he did this thing where he would use the “Studying is probably better than hanging out with a lame otaku like me” speech to get you to cave in.

You didn't realize it, but you only had a few days left to study and you were STRESSED.

Levi was about to use the same speech on you again when you finally had had enough.

“LEVI! I HAVE SPENT SO MUCH TIME WITH YOU, IT COULD ACTUALLY COST ME FROM GETTING A GOOD GRADE! CAN YOU PLEASE PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ANIME AND VIDEO GAMES AND DO SOMETHING THAT DOESN'T RISK OTHER PEOPLE FAILING AT LIFE!“ you blurted. You regretted saying some of that, but it was too little too late. 

Levi was hurt his best friend would say all of that to him. You could see him fighting back tears. 

“F-Fine..! Whatever! I can just find s-someone else to play with me..!” he said, choking n his words. “J-Just get outta my room, already!”

You tried to apologize for snapping, but he wasn’t having it, at least not right now. 

You would make it up to him after you finished studying and taking your test.

Levi spent the next few days being somewhat passive-aggressive towards you, spending more time with Mammon or Henry 2.0 (his goldfish) just to spite you. However, you were too busy catching up on the studying you missed out on to notice.

Eventually, he was ready to go give you a piece of his mind when he saw...you were asleep at your desk and surrounded by books. It kinda made him realize how much he really made you miss out on and he felt pretty bad.

The next morning, you woke up to a text from Lucifer that said he pulled some strings to get you more time to study and have your date for the test slightly later than the others. You also had Levi’s jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

You definitely bought him some new games and figures as a way to apologize for yelling at him and you two made up.

Rest assured, Levi listens to you way more after that. You being mad at him is upsetting and kinda scary to him.

Satan:

Satan was being a typical cynical smartass and talking about what tricks he’ll attempt on Lucifer today.

The past THREE times you, he and Belphie tried to pull pranks on Lucifer, you were one step ahead and you just DID not have the energy for it anymore.

“Hey Satan..~” you say sweetly to lure him in.

“Mmm?” he asked, distractedly.

“Shut...the F**K up!” you snapped, irritated at him.

Now...There are really two ways the Avatar or Wrath can take being told to shut up, let alone to shut the f up. 

If you are LUCKY...Satan will laugh it off with an amused chuckle that you’re trying to intimidate him

Your luck runs out of you try and elaborate on that WHILE he’s laughing.

“IF YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE SMARTEST BROTHER, HOW DO YOU HAVE SUCH IDIOTIC IDEAS?!”

You’re dead. You’ve dug your own grave and you are DEAD. He’ll PROBABLY grab you by the throat if that REALLY pissed him off.

“What the F**K...did you just say to me you weak, breakable little twerp?” he asks in that calm, serial killer like tone that let’s you know you’re dead meat.

That’s when you run, you knock some books in his path and you run!

You don’t stop running until you find Lucifer to make Satan calm the hell down.

It’s probably best if you two don’t talk to one another for a few days.

Satan is secretly shocked and upset his image of you being the innocent one is shattered...for like, a SECOND. That is until he realizes...he LIKES to see you angry...and he WILL use this newfound enjoyment against you.

You go to apologize, but he yanks you in, pins you to the wall like he’s going to hurt you...but smirks and says in his most smarmy and CONDESCENDING tone.

“You’re even cuter when you’re mad~ I won’t hurt you over this...at least not in the way I had intended~” he teases before pecking your nose and walking away like the tease he is.

He could be such a bitch sometimes.

 Asmodeus:

You were honestly pretty jealous of the people who Asmo had been flirting with. To the point it was really starting to irritate you. Especially if he spoke about how cute OTHER people were while you were there.

When he got to talking about something hot someone else has that you are self conscious over…you just lost it.

“MAYBE IF YOU STARTED THINKING WITH THE HEAD ON YOUR SHOULDERS, YOU’RE VAIN DUMBASS COULD FOCUS ON YOUR STUDIES!” you hissed.

Asmo blinked at you, shocked you would even WANT to shriek at someone as beautiful as him. After thinking it over for a second, not even looking offended, just surprised, he grew a small smirk.

You see, kids, if events have taught us anything, it’s that you can’t get angry at Asmo…cus his horny-ass just thinks you’re being forceful or aggressive and he enjoys it.

“My, my~ This is an INTERESTING change of pace, (Y/N). I sense that someone is jealous over my attention being away from them~! Of course, it’s not like I blame you~! I’m so beautiful, ANYONE would fight over me~” he bragged.

You were just so done with his nonsense, you were about to leave, but you felt him grab your wrist all of a sudden. He tugged you close and stroked your chin with a sly smirk.

“That being said, I think I LIKE seeing you raise your voice at me~ Do it some more, (Y/N)~ Pretty please~❤”

Yep, you were gone. You couldn’t with his flirty shit right now. You were still mad, you just had the deepest blush across your cheeks.

Asmo kept trying to make you jealous so you would bark at him. You opened a new kink for him to say the least.

You know what DID end up getting to him though? When you looked the person he was flirting with dead in the eye and said “You can have him..” like you were giving away something you didn’t even want.

THAT’S when he got offended. He was maaaaaaaad.

“(Y/N)! How could you SAY such a thing?! Do you not want me or something?!” he asked, pouting up a storm.

Well, you wanted to get a reaction out of him, you just didn’t expect it to go like THAT.

He tries to give you the cold shoulder, but he wants your attention too much to keep it up, so he eventually sits beside you with a pout on his lips and his arms folded.

“I’m willing to apologize for flirting with other demons...but only if you apologize for that comment earlier.” He said

You eventually do apologize, cus even if you love him, a whiny Asmo can get emotionally tiring. You promise him you mean every word of apology…and then he tackles you with hugs and kisses.

You may or may not regret apologize just for that alone, but at least he’s happy.

Beezlebub:

Beel ate something you were saving for later. Usually he wouldn’t because he would want to eat something like that WITH you since it was yours. Sometimes it wasn’t even that big of a deal to you because you could just get more. ((I know all the foodies in the audience are looking at me funny for writing that. Look guys, unless it’s something I haven’t had in a while, I don’t personally care if someone eats my food.))

 But this time it was different. It was a special treat someone close to you had brought just for you before you got to the Devildom. Maybe even they last time you’d see them for a long time, not just the year you were in the Devildom. It’s not the last time you see them ever because it’s not gonna be THAT depressing guys.

You had written your name and everything on it, but Beel was in his hungry stages…like CLOSE to demon form stages.

You saw the carnage left over from this special treat. Beel was JUST apologize when you snapped.

“TURNING INTO A DEMON PUT YOUR BRAIN IN YOUR STOMACH, DIDN’T IT?!” you snapped. Beel was like…legit surprised to see this coming from YOU of all people. You were such a small, sweet little human the rest of the time and here you were, yelling at him.

Yelling at Beel definitely caused some instant regret, because the boy couldn’t help himself. Now YOU were about to apologize when Beel interrupted.

“I-I’m so sorry (Y/N). I didn’t realize how much it meant to you. I should have gotten one of my brothers to call you…o-or told you on my D.D.D so we could’ve…I’m sorry.” He said, frowning. “I promise, I’ll make up for this…I’ll go to the human world and get the person who made it if I have to.” He said, leaving you alone.

Well you sure felt like a jackass now. Yeah, out of all the brothers, Beel is probably the most understanding, so you legit feel like an ass after yelling at him. You texted and said your apology over and over to him, but he either wouldn’t reply because he was trying to re-create it or insisting it was hit fault.

Belphie is pretty pissed you yelled at Beel like that, but you did tell him you didn’t mean for it to slip out and explain the situation.

He doesn’t get the sentimental value like you or Beel do, but he soon gets you really ARE sorry and leaves you alone about it.

Beel eventually calls you over and he made a BUNCH of the food he ate on you. Some he got his brothers or Barbados to help him with, but a lot were made by him.

This freaking teddy bear of a demon worked his wings off to make it up to you. Of COURSE you two forgive each other.

The flavor probably isn’t EXACTLY like the one he ate on you, but you felt the love put into it none the less and you at least have a new fond memory of that food. You may need help eating it all though.

The whole house eats that dish for a while. You even get Solomon, the angels and even Diavolo to help clean out the supply.

Beel’s more than happy to help though. It’s also just as well you won’t see the person who gave you the original for a while. You get sick of it pretty quick…but seeing Beel smile over it does help bring enjoyment back to the flavor.

 Belphegor:

It was either like Satan where he got you in trouble with Lucifer or he slept in and missed out on something important. Either way, you were fed up with Belphie showing up late to things or not showing up at all

As soon as he woke up, he just gave you an innocent looking, bus clearly condescending smile, much like when he used to lie to your face. You sure let him have it in the middle of his smart ass tone.

“WITH HOW IRRESPONSIBLE YOU ARE, I WISH I COULD SLEEP RIGHT THROUGH ALL YOUR BULLS**T!” you barked at him all of a sudden.

Now kinda like Satan, at first Belphie’s response to this is to get angry right away. His face gradually lowers and he kinda towers over you like he’s trying to intimidate you and, if you remember what he did in another timeline, it kinda works to a degree.

“The hell did you just say to me? I killed you once, I’ll do it again if I wanted to.” He was hoping to catch you off guard and laugh at you once you got scared of him, but you were still just so mad at him, you were ready to call his bluff.

“YEAH?! BIG MAN?! GO ON! DO IT! GIVE LUCI ANOTHER REASON TO LOCK YOU IN THE F**KIN ATTIC!” you yelled, pushing him.

Okay, THAT was a scorcher tho! That knocked the damn wind out of him. He knew for a FACT, you would never bring him being in the attic into this, so he KNEW he had legit pissed you right off. He just kinda took a step back in surprise.

“Okay, damn…I wasn’t being serious.” He said, picking up his pillow and walking away, shaking his head slightly. “You humans are so sensitive at times.

Out of all the brothers, as surprised as he is by your outburst, he probably cares the least. You know how he is with Lucifer, so he’ll likely use this as a means to push your buttons too.

You don’t want to talk to him, but he will STILL give you a smarmy “Are you done being a child yet?” JUST to get on your nerves.

Beel can see that it’s not just putting a damper on your mood, but Belphie’s too, because as much as he wants to uphold how much of a smartass he is, he’s finding it harder to take naps knowing he upset you.

The twins talk it out and Belphie admits defeat, waiting til you’re alone in your room to go see you. He says nothing, comes in and sits on your bed, gesturing you sit beside him and resting his head on your lap.

“I’m sorry I kept pushing you…I didn’t realize how much I actually upset you and I’ll try not to sleep in as much if it’s for you..” he said softly.

You stroked his hair slowly and kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry I yelled at you..the attic thing was too far.” You said.

Belphie smiled and wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place. “You can make it up to me by letting me sleep on you.

He did actually make better effort into showing up and it only cost more naps while holding you, so best make sure you don’t have anywhere to be for the next few hours. Belphie will lock you in place.

[nikatyler]

I have three weeks to learn everything for my last exams. Am I dying already? Well, no, but actually, yes. I kinda wish we had less time because this way, I’m going to waste so much of it procrastinating.

But maybe now that I’ve told you, I’ll decide to not procrastinate so that you can be proud of me or something. Maybe I’ll show that I am in fact capable of character development. Idk.

Yeah, I’m losing my mind. Just a little bit.

By the way, anyone else feels dead inside after watching the new Game of Thrones episode? You know, in the first part, I literally forgot what I was watching because everyone was so happy and celebrating and all that and then I got a reminder. This show is going to be the death of me.

desira-sims replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”

I feel ya on social media. I recently got rid of a mobile game and the associated fb pages I was in. I’m no longer constantly checking my phone for it. It’s been nice taking a break from that. Focus on school, since that’s the most important thing. Come find us when you need a breather. ��

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”

Yes, social media are basically time-eaters who steal the time which could be spend on writing or simming. Recently I've unsubscribed from several Instagram pages dedicated to memes as they my flooded dash and I spent too much time on them. Last two days I've played TS3 world adventures on my laptop without internet connection and it was great

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your photo “Before we get to the replies, I want to quickly address something. I’m...”

And I barely paid attention to tumblr as well recently... Well the weather is so great that it would be a crime to spend time onlineXD

Ooh boy, if I was able to get rid of all the memes pages I follow, I’d have so much free time on my hands. But also, I mean...memes.

As for social media, I wish I could deactivate my Facebook account. I really wish. But sadly, all the people I know irl are there. I have to stay there to keep in touch with them. We still share a lot of school stuff there, I’d be lost without it. But those are the only reasons I’m there, I never post on it anymore. I actually deleted most of my photos and old status updates and unfollowed most pages.

I’m going to repeat myself here but I’m so glad I got rid of Twitter. I loved it there, but at the same time, it fueled my negativity. Even when I found and muted or straight up unfollowed the biggest sources of it, I wasn’t happy. So I just stepped into the daylight and let it go and it was the best decision I could make. Even though now tumblr will probably have to deal with my random thoughts. I need to find a special tag for that. Not just “nonsims” or “saviorhide”. Maybe “simmeronnie is losing it again”.

whysimstho replied to your photoset “Isla Paradiso didn’t disappoint at all. It was everything I’ve ever...”

Skyporn 24/7 sounds like a radio station

Lmao you’re not wrong. Or it could be something like a stream where they only record videos of really really gorgeous sky. I’d watch that. Seriously, shut up and take my money. I could stare at pretty sky all day.

desira-sims replied to your post “List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10...”

I recently went back and started this legacy. (Just got to the Gen 5 switch). I think Rachel is absolutely adorable.

Ahh, no way! I hope you’re having fun even though it’s a total mess :D I have to agree though, I love Rachel, she’s awesome.

Watch out, tiny gen 4 rant coming. When I have nothing else to do and I feel inspired, I rewrite gen 4 because I love these characters and they deserve a way better story. I consider the stories they got in the legacy the first drafts/starting point/base or something like that. So in some way, most of this stays in the “new canon”, it’s just thought through better or changed a little bit.

Okay, that wasn’t really a rant but seriously, stop me whenever I seem like I’m about to start rambling about gen 4.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to 10...”

Number 4 - high five, Zoey, same with me!XD

5 actually, too

Ah, yes, same. Number 4...oh god. Been there, sort of. Just because I’m crushing on a person doesn’t mean I imagine being with them in bed all the freaking time. *looks at a friend who loves to imply that...when I’m actually a small innocent child who only knows woohoo from the sims and I’m not ashamed to admit it*

whysimstho replied to your photoset “Regan: “Court! Finally! How was the flight?” Courtney: “Not bad. I...”

Why is her face so funny to me ��

Well, it is kinda funny :D

philodendronandfoxes replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”

Anon needs to chill.

desira-sims replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”

Don't let them get to you. Something I have learned as I've grown older: Hobbies come and go. One minute you'll find enjoyment in something and the next it doesn't hold the same appeal. Some times you'll come back to that hobby and some times you never pick it up again. Taking a break is something everyone needs. They even tell new parents to take a little "me time" so that they don't get overwhelmed. Taking a moment to collect yourself is understandable.

108sims replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”

Taking breaks from tumblr is good for your sanity. I had to last month for the sake of my mental health I got stressed out falling behind here and dealing with job stuff. Just like for you with school, job takes priority over my blog. I’ve taken so many breaks, honestly it’s fun to enjoy other hobbies and do other things.

dandylion240 replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”

RL should always take priority. Taking breaks and doing other things is healthy and good. Don't let this anon get to you or make you feel guilty.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “So you’ve made posts in the past about how you’re lonely or feel alone...”

Anon is strange - as if tumblr was the only life you've got and you have to stay here whenever you like it or not. Why read between the lines and find unexisting stuff there like you don't care about your followers? It comes without saying that a person needs breaks from the tumblr every now and then

But who knows probably the anon wanted only to provoke you to start our "favorite" drama. In this case they do need to find a life for themselves

Btw too - feeling lonely on tumblr also can be a reason for a hiatus, so anon makes no sense

So I kinda didn’t want to address this anymore because I feel like I’ve said everything in my lengthy answer to that ask but I just wanna say thank you for writing all of this. I didn’t feel bad when I got this, the anon didn’t change my opinion, I still believe everyone has the right to take a break, leave tumblr behind for a bit and not feel sorry about it. Take that me time and come back better than ever (or not if you don’t feel like, that’s fine too)! I was still worried about posting this answer though. So thank you for letting me know I’m not the only one who feels this way!

dandylion240 replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”

Congratulations and have fun with the last day! It'll be bittersweet knowing this may be the last time you'll all be together but it's exciting too because it marks a beginning of something new. So happy for you!

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”

Congratulations and welcome to the "adult" life! Let this day be one of the brightest moments in your memory!

Now I'm feeling nostalgic, I'll go and look through my graduation album

108sims replied to your post “April 30, 2019: Dear Diary, I believe I’m a good person. You know, I...”

That sounds like a really fun way to spend your last day! At my school at least we had a Senior day where there were a bunch of games and activities. Good luck on your exams, and I hope you enjoy your last day and everything that is to come!

It was very fun and everyone looked so good in their costumes! One of my classmates wore this 20s-like dress and oooh boy. She was gorgeous. Just...leaving on that day was really bittersweet. Part of me was like “yas, we’re done with this place!” but the other part of me already missed it. And yeah, our teacher didn’t forget to remind us that all of us might never meet again. There are reunions, it’s a tradition, but there’s always someone who can’t come.

Okay, moving on or else I’ll start crying, and I’ve already cried a lot today. Looking at you, GoT episode 4.

alfalfalegacy replied to your photoset “Regan: “You made it! Nice. I’ve heard you almost threw up on the...”

i'm laughing at the two couples in the background, both flirting during this conversation

Oh god I didn’t realize how funny that looks :D I didn’t want them to just stand there haha.

dandylion240 replied to your photo “In Character Judgement Call: Caleb Protect this soft boy. RULES: You...”

I Caleb the most from gen 4

I know this is just missing a word and I shouldn’t laugh but it comes off kinda funny. Still, thank you!

dandylion240 replied to your photoset “Felix: “You look perfect. No, no, you are perfect. Some girls are...”

Despite his ability to burp at inappropriate times Felix can say the sweetest things

No sweeter words have ever been spoken about my boy

Also no truer words have ever been spoken about my boy

108sims replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”

Good luck!

nineyellowgirl replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”

keeping fingers crossed :D

desira-sims replied to your post “I’m waiting for my exam (still have like 2 hours) and I’m bored. I...”

Good luck on you exam!

Thank you guys! The results should come on May 15th. Wish it was that day already. I think I did well, but I won’t be calm until I actually see it.

harmoniouspixels replied to your post “One day, I’ll have a nice tiny mods folder again. Today is not that...”

The TS4 community needs to come up with a Compressorizer like TS2 and TS3 has tbh

Yeah that would be nice. TS4 needs a lot of things in general though, to be fair.

tiny-tany-thaanos replied to your post “Hmm...”

Hm the thing I do plan something with berries and I need a spouse for my founder which I don't want to create myself... Sooo... Yeah, I could use a sim ��

flowerhoneysims replied to your post “Hmm...”

@simmeronnie But it‘s another kind of pink ☺️

Alright guys, I have an idea. Shoot me a message and we can talk about it! I’m down for this. Here’s just a brief description of everyone I can offer (in case someone else would like a sim and would like to know what they’re signing up for), we can talk more in depth in the messages later. I have one mean pink girl who loves robots, then this one that I’ve shown (she doesn’t have too much personality yet, but she hates her other sister and loves videogames), an agender person with pink skin, white hair and white eyes (loves animals and is the total opposite of their mean twinsister - and yet they’re still best friends somehow) and one pink boy with white eyes who just aged up into a child so I have no idea what he’s going to be like yet. I just remember he got the No Sense of Humor trait.

Can I have a wish though? If I send you one of these sims, would you please share with me the sim they end up with? I would love for them to get together in my game as well.

Side note, can you already tell my bpr is going to be a bigger mess than all my other legacies combined?

lyrea replied to your photoset “Okay, clearly he didn’t ruin all the traditions. Crisis averted.”

^_^ That is an impressive cake they got.

Oh, it is! I’m not sure now, but it might be the one that came with Monte Vista?

[booperdoopererryday]

You Left Me--Mental Illness Discussion

So Jack played a game today called “You Left Me”, a game about loss, depression, and suicide.  At the beginning of the game, he mentioned how he liked playing games like these because of the discussion it sparks in the community, and how we can all be there for each other and share our mental health struggles together.  I see this as a good opportunity to share my experiences with fighting mental illness in the hope that maybe it can help someone else here <3 <3 <3

For those who don’t know me very well, I am a 22 year old bisexual girl with a disability.  I am a sexual abuse victim, and grew up in an abusive home.  I have been diagnosed with major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder (this may have changed recently), and borderline personality disorder.  A possible diagnosis of atypical bipolar disorder has been brought up recently as well.  I have been suffering from moderate depression since around age 14, and then in 2015, while I was in college, I had a massive breakdown and have been struggling with severe mental health issues since then.  I had to drop out, move back into my abusive household, and I have been searching for help ever since.

In my experience, depression is . . . very hard to describe to others, especially those who do not share the experience.  The best I can do is relate it to deep sadness, an emotion everyone has experienced.  When you have a deep, deep sadness, it pulls at you, cuts into your chest, can elicit hours of sobbing and desperation and the overwhelming feeling that everything, for that moment, feels awful.  That is deep, deep sadness, and it sucks majorly.

Depression, for me, is on another level.

In comparison to depression, it feels like that sadness only cut through the top maybe five layers of my heart.  That’s a lot of layers, but depression starts deeper.  It’s like the very center of my being has rotted, and the decay is spreading towards the surface.  It is the bone-chilling, deep knowledge that something is very, very wrong.  Value in anything goes missing.  Things that gave me meaning and hope and life now only spark maybe a flicker of joy if I’m lucky before it dies where it started.  There’s nothing inside me to catch the spark, nothing to keep it burning.  Depression is death, it’s being alive while being dead, it’s the full experience of being gone while you’re not yet gone, and the burning desire for your body to follow where your soul left.

Depression is fucking serious and devastating and swallows any life you had in you.  And the worst part is, oftentimes it doesn’t really feel like there’s a reason.  Many times there’s not a reason, it’s purely the chemicals in your brain, as Jack said in the video today.  Sometimes it’s purely that you’re in that shitty of a situation.  Most of the time, it’s some kind of combination of both.  But mental illness is just that: an illness. It is something in your body (in this case, specifically your brain) that isn’t working properly.  In cases where it’s chemical, it’s that there’s an imbalance of the receptors in your brain that allow you to feel happy.  In other cases, it may be that because of your upbringing, or trauma, or other situations in your life, your brain has made neural pathways incorrectly, and has developed in a way that makes it next to impossible to cope with situations and events.  NEITHER OF THESE THINGS ARE YOUR FAULT.  And again, often enough it’s both of these that cause depression.

It’s very hard to believe when you feel this way that there’s any help or any way out.  I personally struggle with suicidal thoughts on a daily and many days hourly basis.  I cry, a lot.  A lot.  I feel despair, I lash out in anger at those I love in a desire to self destruct, I self harm.  It’s hard, it’s really, really, REALLY goddamn hard, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise because they are wrong. It’s. Hard.

However, it’s important--so, so, SO important--to know that the options available are meant to be taken advantage of.  I know there’s a lot of stigma around medication and therapy and such.  But here’s the thing--this is literally an illness.  And even if there’s no “cure” per se, there are treatment options to ease the pain.  And some things CAN be cured.  Not all mental illness can be, but some can.  And all others, you can find coping skills and medication and therapy to make life enjoyable again, livable again.  I have borderline personality disorder, which is nonmedicable.  This means that medicine will only go so far with my condition and won’t fix the problem.  The best thing for me is therapy, and some medication to ease the pain.  Not remove it, but ease it, bring it to a manageable level, a place where I CAN deal with it instead of drowning in it.  Most people discount medication and therapy because the first one they tried didn’t work.  Maybe they had a shitty therapist who couldn’t handle the full weight of their illness (I have been turned away by therapists who, they themselves, admitted they were not qualified to handle my particular level of crazy XD XD XD), or maybe the first medicine they took actually made things worse (this happens, it’s called the blackbox effect).  The thing I want to urge to those of you reading this who have had that experience is: please please please do not let it end there.  Help IS worth seeking out, I swear to you.  It might take time to find the right fit--that’s normal for both therapy and medication.  One size does not fit all, and luckily there are MANY options to explore.  It’s taken me a lot of digging to find medicine that works a teensy bit, and a therapist who finally is giving me what I need.  I’m not even close to better right now, but I’m working on it.  I’m getting there.  Because I cannot allow myself to be killed by this.

I cannot allow myself to be a casualty of mental illness.

This is a thing you have to fight.  And holy shit do you have to fight hard.  It is NOT easy.  It’s not even close to easy.  It’s the hardest thing you will ever have to do, by miles.  You will want to give up, sometimes daily.  You might even try to give up.  I know I have.  But you can’t.  You need to keep going, because I promise you the way will get easier.  I won’t promise you there’s a point where you will be cured--this will be true for some of you, but I’m not disillusioned enough to think it’s true for all.  It’s probably not even true for me, considering my specific brand of mental illness.

BUT DO NOT LET THAT STOP YOU FROM TRYING AND FIGHTING.

If anything else, do it out of fucking spite.  Spite of the people who hurt you, spite of the illness that’s tearing you apart from the inside, spite at the very fact that you were born when you didn’t ask for it.  Don’t let them win.  Don’t let it have victory, because FUCK that.  You can have a life worth living, even if it’s downright shitty for long stretches of it.  But it can be worth it, and don’t you dare let your brain and life experiences and even people lie to you about that.

Sorry I know I was rambling.  But this is so damn important.  And we need to be there to support each other through this.  And for those of us who need the support, it’s important to not ONLY rely on friends and family--although absolutely do this as well, please seek out support from your loved ones!!!--but to also seek help from professionals.  We, as friends/family/community members, can provide love, and care, and gentle urging in the direction towards healing, but we cannot do what professionals have spent their lives learning how to do.  We cannot fix the problem, we cannot kill the beast, but by hell are we going to stand by you and fight it with you.  We will not leave you alone. <3 <3 <3

So please, if you struggle with mental health of any kind--reach out to a doctor or a therapist or a psychiatrist.  Tell a trusted adult if you are unsure of how to go about this.  Reach out to your close friends, family, significant other; let them know what’s happening and what you need.  Work, work hard, and please please please don’t give up.  Call a helpline if you are in crisis, and if you are planning to do something you cannot ever take back, please go to a hospital or call 911.  I have been in the psych ward before, and it’s not the most fun place to be, but it’s far from the worst, and you have full access to all the help you need, and it can be enough just to keep you alive a smidge longer.  And all those days you can manage to keep going add up over time, and you’ll be shocked at how far you’ve come.

I love you all, and you can leave an ask in my askbox if you want specific advice or clarification on anything I’ve said in here.  And reach out to others in the community.  And for those of you who aren’t going through this right now, or are in the space to help anyone you see who is struggling, please support each other. <3 <3 <3  This is what PMA is really about--it’s about the fight, and about the support.

You can do this.  I promise you, you have it in you, even when you don’t feel like you do.  It wouldn’t be called courage if there was no fear present in the first place. <3 <3 <3

~Jillian <3

[lenfaz]

Time Upon Once, ch. 4 (4/?)

Summary:  Killian Jones is a bailbonds man, living in Boston and doing his own thing. But on his 29th birthday, a kid knocks on his door and claims to be his son. What happens when Killian is forced to face his past along with a mystery prophecy about his own purpose in life?

Rating: M (eventually)

A huge thank you to @tnlph @businesscasualprincess and @blessed-but-distressed  for beta duties and @shady-swan-jones for the banner!

Tagging a few people that showed interest in this story: @lk0622 @nowforruin @sambethe @xemmaloveskillianx  @l-e-x-a-xd @profoundlyfadedprincess @once-uponacaptain @icecubelotr44  @poetic-justice-96  @allietumbles  (want to be tagged? let me know and I’ll do it)

on Tumblr: I II III

ao3  ff.net

Killian shuffled in the driver’s seat of his Bug, his knees bending uncomfortably as his eyes squinted to read the local newspaper classified section by the glow of the streetlights, trying to find a place to live.  The actions brought back memories of all the times he’d spent doing the exact same thing in the past decade. In every new town there had been several sleepless nights in his Bug, searching for a new apartment, with nothing but a duffel bag in the trunk and the hope that one day he’d find her.

Until he’d realized he was chasing nothing but a ghost from time long past, and he’d stopped looking.

A soft rap on the window broke him out of his reverie.

Killian shifted around in his seat to see Mary Margaret standing out on the street, looking at him with nothing but sincere concern. He rolled down the window from the driver's seat and she tilted her head. “Hey, are you okay?”

The familiarity he’d felt around her previously tried to creep its way back, but he kept it at bay, determined not to let himself get any more involved in these people’s lives. He pulled on his trademark everything is fine smirk. “Don’t you worry about me, lass. In the world of tight spots and inconvenient situations, sleeping in this old vessel doesn’t even make the top of the list.”

“You’re sleeping here?” She sounded so appalled at the notion that Killian couldn’t help the sheepish smile that came to his face.

“Only until I find something more suitable,” he promised, hoping she’d take his word for it and let him be. He didn’t need another pitiful stare or apologetic smile. If he had a dime for every one of those he’d ever gotten, he’d be a rich man.

“You decided to stay. For Henry.” Mary Margaret sounded so proud that it tugged at Killian’s heart. But it seemed impolite to continue sitting in his car when there was a lady standing by, with no apparent intention of leaving him to his own musings, so he quickly dropped the newspaper and exited the Bug.

“Aye… perhaps. But it seems this town doesn’t have any available vacancies. Not even a single one,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“It must be the curse,” Mary Margaret offered jokingly.

He chuckled before he noticed the hour on the clock. “You’re out late, milady,” he said, cocking a suggestive eyebrow.

She closed her cardigan tighter around her chest. “I’m a teacher, not a nun. I had a date,” she pronounced with a sigh of defeat escaping her lips.

“Didn’t go well, I take it?” he prodded, not wanting to intrude, but sensing that she might want a chance to unburden.

She shrugged. “As well as they ever do.”

“Do you want me to beat the bloody ponce?” he offered politely, finding that in that moment he very much meant it. There was something about her sad demeanor that made Killian want to punch someone. She shook her head and bit her lower lip. “I guess if true love were easy, we’d all have it.”

The words rang true in him, his smile faltering at the memories.  Blonde hair tangled in his fingers, his nose buried at the hollow of her throat, his arms pulling her tighter to him as they battled the demons of their childhood together in the backseat of that same car.

Mary Margaret tilted her head, reading him like an open book.  “You had it… didn’t you? Was it Henry’s mother?”

“Emma,” he breathed her name as a prayer. The same way he’d done all those nights as he’d pleaded with the universe for her to come back to him. “Her name was Emma,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m not sure if I’d call it true love because I don't quite believe in that… but it was love.” He sounded defeated, even to himself, like a man that had given up hope of ever finding that again. Because he knew he’d never find it. Not with another.

She let the silence stretch for a minute. “You know, if things get cramped, I do have a spare room.”

“Mary Margaret, that could be perceived as wildly inappropriate-” he stated vehemently but she cut him off.  

“Are you planning to make a move on me?” she asked directly.

“No, not at all,” he answered quickly, finding also that he meant it. He was no stranger to resorting to finding a woman that might be willing to let him into her bed for a night. It would mean that he was in for not just enjoyable activities, but a comfortable mattress, a pillow and warm blankets for a few hours. Sometimes even a hot shower.  It had been something he’d done a while ago, before he was able to build himself the life he now had in Boston. If it could be considered a life. But he’d always leave at the break of dawn, morning afters being the one thing he just couldn’t stomach. He never had morning afters, not ever since he’d lost Emma.

Mary Margaret lifted one shoulder in a careless stance. “Then let them talk - Mary Margaret Blanchard went on a date, and after that she went home with the same dark haired stranger that trashed the town sign.”

He laughed, the first genuine laugh he’d had since he’d arrived into town. “I can only imagine the gossip.”

“Besides, I can’t have my son sleeping in a car. What kind of mother would I be?” she joked.

“You’re too young and pretty to be my mother. Perhaps a younger sister,” he said in a flirty tone, using the compliment to deflect her attention, but Mary Margaret wasn’t so easily distracted. Killian started fidgeting, finding very hard to keep his armor under her stare. He finally relented.

“Only for tonight… then I’ll find something else.” He lifted his hand before she could speak. “And I’ll cook breakfast tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” she beamed at him and he sighed, turning his back and making his way back to the Bug.

“Well, at least let me offer you a ride home,” he said, pulling open the passenger door for her.

/-/

“I found your father, Prince Charming.”

The words were like a ton of bricks and Killian was glad he was sitting on the rail of that battered old playground, because otherwise his knees would probably had given way underneath him. Henry sat next to him in street clothes, that blasted leather-bound book open on his knees.

“Henry,” Killian sighed, but the lad cut him off, holding the book up to show a drawing of a sandy haired man.

“He doesn’t look like me.” No matter what Dr. Hopper said, Killian didn’t want to indulge Henry in this fantasy, but he couldn’t help the remark coming to his lips. He really didn’t look like the man. At all.

“You take after Snow White,” Henry shrugged, and Killian tilted his head. He could see that… maybe, a little. He and Mary Margaret both had dark hair and a strong complexion… He quickly shook his head, almost embarrassed that he’d gotten carried away by the lad’s fantasies.

Henry didn’t seem to have noticed, too busy studying the illustration. “He’s in a hospital, in a coma. See the scar?” he asked, his finger pointing to a noticeable cut on Prince Charming’s chin. “Can you see it? The guy in the hospital has one too!”

“So? A lot of people have scars,” Killian explained. “Even meself, I have one right here.” His fingers instinctively reached up to traced the line on his right cheek, but he quickly thought better of it and lowered his hand again.  He didn’t want to get into further details with Henry, as it hadn’t been a happy tale. He’d learned the hard way in his first foster home that not everyone was like the Joneses. Actually, no one had been like the Joneses.

“In the same place?” Henry insisted stubbornly, his voice almost faltering as he felt he was stating the obvious. “Don’t you see what this means? The curse is keeping them apart with the coma. Now they’re stuck without each other. We have to tell Miss Blanchard we found her Prince Charming!” His voice sounded so hopeful that Killian almost wanted to believe him. But he’d also seen Mary Margaret’s disheartened face last night after coming from her date, and he simply couldn’t do that to her. It seemed too cruel to put such ideas in her head, only to have them crushed in the end.

“Lad,” he sighed, “telling someone their soulmate is in a coma is probably not helpful. Not having a happy ending is painful enough, but giving someone unrealistic hope is far worse.” His hand reached for Henry’s arm in a comforting gesture.

“But what if I’m right? We know who they are. Now they have to know!”

“How?” Killian wasn’t even sure how he’d gotten caught up in this entire ordeal until Henry gave him that look he knew so well. That look he hadn’t seen in a decade. That look that was all pleading without really asking.

“By reminding him. We have to get her to read their story to John Doe. Then, maybe, he’ll remember who he is.”

Killian had to admire the lad’s resilience. He wouldn't stop trying until he’d gotten his way. He reminded him so much of Emma, that same strong will that simply refused to give up. He’d loved that in Emma - her fierce and strong conviction that things would bent her way or she’d make them - and seeing their son - her son - turn out the same way ripped yet another tear in his battered heart.

He was torn: he knew he was helpless to deny Henry’s wishes - just as he had been to Emma’s, but at the same time he had no desire to bring any more heartache Mary Margaret’s way. Perhaps, if he tried this from another angle, it would be a good way to ease the lad into the truth - the disheartening truth that Henry refused to accept. How he wished he could just wave a hand and heal his son’s troubled heart.

“Alright,” he agreed, and Henry’s answering smile was almost heartbreakingly blinding. “But it will be done my way. I will ask her, aye?”

/-/

It wasn’t easy to approach Mary Margaret, but Killian sucked it up, bottled his own conflicted feelings. He simply proposed the idea as he stood in her kitchen, nursing a warm mug of hot chocolate in his hands.

“You want me to read to a coma patient?” She sounded skeptical, her eyes squinting in confusion. “I know my dating record is bad, but this-”

“Henry thinks it will help him remember who he was,” Killian tried to explain, taking a small sip of the hot drink she’d prepared. Damn, that woman made a killer hot chocolate.

“And who does he think he was?” she asked in her best teacher tone.

Killian fidgeted under her gaze as if he were a little lad. “Prince Charming.”

Mary Margaret’s eyes widened slightly. “And if I’m Snow White, he thinks me … and him… and you…”

“He has a very active imagination,” Killian offered with slight discomfort. “Which is the point, to be honest. I can’t disregard his beliefs without breaking his heart, so I thought that perhaps if we merely showed him... You don’t have to do much, just play along just this once and perhaps...” he trailed off, hoping Mary Margaret might take the hint.

“He might see that fairytales are just that. That there’s no such thing as love at first sight or first kiss.”

Killian felt a stab of guilt in his chest at her words, because for him there had been such a thing as love at first sight. And in the end it had brought him nothing but endless torment and heartache. Mary Margaret took a sip of her cocoa before speaking again. “He’ll see reality,” she finished, her tone as defeated as Killian felt. But he had to do what was best for Henry.

“Something like that,” he whispered softly.

“Sadly, it’s a good plan. You’d ease him into the truth without hurting him. It’s - it’s a good thing, Killian,” she offered reassuringly.

He pulled the book and handed it to her. “I told him we will meet you tomorrow for breakfast at Granny’s and you’d give us a full report.”

“Oh well, I suppose I’ll get ready for my date. I guess I’ll have to do all the talking,” she said sighing.

“And yet, I get the feeling that it would be an improvement over your last one?” He cocked an eyebrow, and Mary Margaret chuckled.

“I’ll be sure to say to your father that you send your regards,” she teased back.

“Please, I look nothing like the man!” Killian said affronted.

Mary Margaret shook her head from side to side, a small smile coming to her lips before she looked at him with a serious expression. “Do you have a place to stay tonight? You’re more than welcome to-”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I found a place,” he said quickly, lying through his teeth even as he plastered a smile on his face. He couldn’t keep doing this, growing attached to the people in this town. Not when he was planning to leave as soon as he was sure Henry was okay.

Something in her smile told him that she had seen right through him, but she chose to let it slide.

“My door is always open if you need it, Killian,” she finished softly and he gave her a small smile and a nod of his head before leaving her apartment.

/-/

The next morning Killian sat at one of the booths at Granny’s, his hand tugging at the sleeve of his black shirt, thanking the gods he’d always had a duffel bag packed and stored in the trunk of the Bug. Henry sat opposite him, helping himself to a hearty breakfast as they waited.

“Lad, where does your mother think you are?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Playing Whac-A-Mole,” he beamed, too proud of himself for Killian’s taste. A small tinge of regret reached him. He didn’t want to cause even more problems between Henry and her mother, and he certainly didn’t want to encourage Henry to lie to her. He’d only wished he could sort this situation as quickly as possible so he could say his heartfelt - and probably very painful - goodbye and let them be in peace. As it was intended when they signed the adoption papers.

“She believed you?” he asked concerned.

“She wants to believe it, so she does,” Henry said with a shrug of his shoulders.

It seemed the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.

“Oh, imagine that. Henry, it’s not okay to lie to your mother-” Killian started to say but the rest of the sentence was cut off when the doorbell jingled, and Mary Margaret entered the diner.

“She’s here,” Henry announced, almost bouncing out of the booth.

“Henry, keep calm, aye? We’re just getting started,” Killian advised as he watched Mary Margaret made her way hastily towards their booth and slide over to sit beside Henry.

“He woke up!” she announced and Killian’s smile faltered on his face.

“I knew it!” Henry cheered excitedly.

“What?” Killian asked dumbfounded.

“He didn’t ‘wake up’ wake up, but he grabbed my hand,” Mary Margaret corrected, speaking hastily, her eyes shining in a way that gave Killian a very bad feeling about this entire ordeal.

“He’s remembering!” Henry announced, so sure of himself that Killian felt even more at unease.

“What did the doctor say?” Killian asked.

“That I imagined it,” Mary Margaret confessed in a small voice. “But I’m not crazy. I know it happened.” There was vehemence in her voice, and Killian tried to make sense of what she was saying.

“We have to go back. You have to read to him again!” Henry said excitedly.

Mary Margaret seemed thoughtful for a second. “Let’s go!” she announced finally and she and Henry got up and started to exit the booth. Killian sat there for one more second, wondering what in the blazes was going on.

“Wait!” he called for Mary Margaret and she turned around.

“If I got through to him, if we made a connection-” she started.

“You really don’t believe…” Killian began hesitantly.

“That he’s Prince Charming?” Mary Margaret asked, lowering her tone so Henry couldn’t hear her. “Of course not! But somehow, in some way, I touched him. We made a connection.” Her eyes were filled with hope.

“Mary Margaret, please don’t - I don't want you to get hurt,” he said softly.

“It will be okay,” she beamed before turning around and following Henry out the door.

Killian couldn’t do nothing but trail after them, his mind racing at the rapid turn of events.

Bloody hell. This hadn’t gone according to plan.

/-/

Mary Margaret and Henry rushed through the hospital entrance, Killian following a few steps behind, still trying to wrap his head around the recent events.

“You’re right - he’s waking up!” Henry announced excitedly, making his way towards the hospital bedroom.

The sheriff stood there, talking to some of the doctors. He quickly turned around when he noticed Henry, leaning over to stop the child from advancing any further.

“Henry, you should stay back,” he said hastily.

“What’s going on? Is it John Doe? Is he okay?” Mary Margaret’s almost tripped on her words, the concern palpable in her voice.

Graham lifted his eyes to Killian’s and he could see his hesitation. “He’s missing.”

Graham turned around slowly, and it was only then that Killian caught a glimpse of the hospital room behind him, and the sight of Regina standing by the vacant bed, talking to the doctors. Oh, bollocks. Her expression was stern as she made her way over.

“What the hell are you all doing here?” When her eyes fixated on Henry, Killian could see the sheer disappointment in them - and underneath that, he could sense the heartbreak.

Regina pulled Henry by his sleeve. “I thought you were at the arcade. Now you’re lying to me?” Her voice broke at the end of the sentence, and Killian felt bad for her.

“What happened to John Doe? Did someone take him?” Mary Margaret asked, seemingly oblivious to anything else going on around her that didn’t involve the man currently missing from his bed.

“We don’t know yet,” Graham sighed, his eyes darting once again between the teacher and Killian. “His IVs were ripped out, but there’s no sure sign there was a struggle.”

“What did you do?” Henry glared at Regina, pronouncing his words with such venom that Killian reacted instinctively.

“Henry!” he admonished, taking everyone - including Regina and himself - by surprise. “That’s no way to talk to your mother, lad.”

There was a brief, fleeting moment in which he thought that something that resembling gratitude might’ve crossed Regina’s face, but she quickly schooled her features as she addressed her son.

“You think I had something to do with this?” she asked, trying to mask the hurt in her tone and failing at it.

“Why are you even here?” Henry accused. He didn’t seem to realize how his words were affecting his mother, and Killian felt honorbound to intervene. Henry’s fantasies might be the way he communicated his complex emotions around the events in his life, but Regina Mills had adopted Henry, and she deserved a little more respect than what she was getting right now.

“Henry,” he chided. “Your mother is the Mayor, she surely needs to be informed when something happens that might put this town or its inhabitants at risk.” He offered a polite smile to Regina, but it seemed his attempts at peacemaking were no longer welcome.

“That is correct,” she pointed out, straightening her dress. “And I’m also his emergency contact.”

“You know him?” Mary Margaret asked, with a mix of hope and curiosity.

“I found him. On the side of the road years ago with, no ID. I’m the one who brought him here.”

“Mayor Mills saved his life,” the doctor agreed, stepping forward to join the fray.

“Will he be okay?” Mary Margaret inquired, voice laced with concern.

“Okay? The man’s been on feeding tubes for years, under constant supervision. He needs to get back here ASAP or, quite honestly, ‘okay’ might be a pipe dream.” The doctor’s reasoning was sound enough, but there was something about the man that rubbed Killian the wrong way. Something about how his gaze lingered just a second too long after Mary Margaret had turned away.

“Well, we shouldn’t waste any time then,” Killian pronounced, and all eyes turned to him.

“We?” Regina repeated in disbelief. “Just stay out of it, dear.  And since I clearly can’t keep you away from my son, I guess I’m just going to have to keep my son away from you.” She shot him a condescending look over her shoulder, and Killian clenched his jaw to prevent him from speaking and alienating the woman even further.

“Sheriff!” she ordered.  “Find John Doe. You heard Dr. Whale. Time is precious.”  Then before anyone could contradict her, she turned and left the room, dragging Henry behind her, the staccato beat of her high heels against the tile floor echoing down the corridor.

“Doctor, how long between your rounds since you last saw him?” Graham inquired.

“Twelve hours or so.”

Graham gave Killian a pointed look. “Then that’s what we need to account for.”

Killian nodded, following the sheriff as they made their way towards the security room. Regina might have wanted him to mind his own business, but Graham clearly had other ideas. And since Killian had been the one to drag Mary Margaret into this mess in the first place, he was hardly in a position to refuse his assistance.

/-/

This town was going to be the death of him. Of that, Killian was certain. They were clearly unprepared for anything like this, and the amount of recklessness in the way these people conducted both the security and their searches made Killian wonder how anything got done in the first place. If he had ever been as sloppy in his bailbonds job as these people were about remembering details and descriptions, he’d have starved to death long ago. There had been a mix up with the security footage, which was just another unnecessary delay to their search. Luckily they got him to set the records straight as he figured out that it was the wrong tape and they eventually got their hands on the right tape, and figured out John Doe had left the hospital on his own, headed in the direction of the woods.

When they finally hit the woods it was clear they’d entered Graham’s turf, as the sheriff took over on the tracking side of things, leading them down a series of old hiking trails none of the rest of them even knew existed. Killian had to admit he was impressed by the expertise with which Graham conducted this part of the search.

“He’s clearly in his element,” Killian commented as he and Mary Margaret waited for Graham to pick up the trail again.

“Isn’t finding people your thing, too?” Mary Margaret asked confused.

“Aye, but the people I usually search for escape to places like Vegas or Atlantic City. I don’t think they’d even know how to hike in the woods. Let alone hide in them and survive.”

Mary Margaret tilted her head, wearing that quizzical look he was starting to fear from her. “How’d you fall into it? Finding people?”

Killian’s smile faltered, the memories hitting him like waves crashing on the shore. “Looking for people is what I do, what I’ve done my whole life.”

“Was it your parents?” she asked with an apologetic tone as she noticed Killian’s uncomfortable stance. “Henry mentioned that your parents - that your situations were similar.”

“You could say that,” Killian nodded, aware of certain similarities between his story and Henry’s. But he hadn’t thought of his birth parents in a long time. Granted, they had been on his mind constantly when he’d bounced from home to home, sick with grief and sadness over losing the only family he ever knew. Before that, his birth parents hadn’t been on his mind. The truth was, Killian had parents in his life. His parents were Isobel and Brennan Jones. His brother was Liam Jones. And they hadn’t abandoned him at the side of the road. They had never meant to leave him behind. They had died. It wasn’t the same. The people that left him at the side of a road where not the reason he excelled at finding people. “But it wasn’t - it wasn’t them,” he said with a sad, barely audible voice.

Realization dawned on Mary Margaret’s face. “Oh,” she said. “Was it her? Henry’s mom? Emma?”

Killian swallowed and nodded slowly. Whichever words he was weaving to get himself out of this conversation, and push back the pain that had started to creep back were cut off by the sound of branch snapping behind them. Killian and Mary Margaret both turned around, to find Henry trailing behind them.

“Did you find him yet?” he asked eagerly.

Killian cocked an eyebrow at him. “Henry what are you doing here? We’re in the middle of the woods, this is dangerous ground-” he trailed off. Gods, he sounded like his father when he used to scold him and Liam for sneaking out to the creek that ran behind their house.

Henry didn’t show a single ounce of regret at being there. At least Killian and Liam had known how to pull an acting face to save themselves from a bigger punishment. “I can help. I know where he’s going!”

“Where?” Mary Margaret asked and Killian made a mental note to have a talk with her later. If he was staying in town to ensure Henry’s well-being - as Mary Margaret had been encouraging him to do - then she was going to help him by getting Henry to stop running around directly into danger’s path, and listen to his mother for a change.

“He’s looking for you,” Henry explained to her, as though that should have been obvious. But instead of dismissing the idea as ridiculous, which it clearly was, Mary Margaret didn’t say anything at all. She just nodded slightly, the flare of hope in Henry’s eyes making Killian want to tear his own hair out.

/-/

Graham returned a few minutes later, announcing that he’d picked up a fresh trail. He looked surprised to see Henry with them, but no one suggested turning back. Instead they pressed on into the wilderness together, flashlights on their hands as night started to fall upon them. Killian kept his eyes carefully trained on Henry, trying to ensure the lad’s safety in the darkening woods. But if Henry was aware of the dangers, he didn’t seem concerned, growing more excited by the minute over the possibility of John Doe being Prince Charming.

“You’re the one who woke him up,” he insisted, his flashlight beam dancing erratically across the undergrowth as he moved his arms back and forth. “You’re the last one he saw in the Enchanted Forest. He wants to find you!”

“Henry, this is not about me.” It seemed that Mary Margaret had finally come to her senses, her voice soft and comforting as she addressed Henry. “I think he’s lost and confused. He’s been in a coma a long time.”

“But he loves you!” Henry insisted stubbornly, growing agitated, his little voice shaking with his need to be understood. “You need to stop chasing him, and let him find you.”

“Lad...” Killian sighed, trying to be understanding of Henry’s feelings, but also feeling the need to stop this nonsense. “You need to go home. This is no place for you, especially at night. Where’s your mother?” he asked worryingly. “She’s going to kill me the moment she finds out. And then you. And then probably me again.”

“She dropped me at the house. Then went right out,” Henry explained, and part of Killian wanted to kick Regina for not taking into account her son’s propensity for running away. He was after all his and Emma’s son, and if there was one thing they both had been, it was runners. It seemed Henry had picked up that trait effortlessly.

“We need to get you back home immediately,” Killian decided, exchanging a short look with Mary Margaret and motioning for Henry to turn back with him.

“No!” Henry yelled, and Killian was taken aback by the sheer intensity of his voice. He opened his mouth to say something, when Graham’s shout filtered through the trees.

“Guys!”

Killian and Mary Margaret wasted no time running in the direction of Graham’s voice, Henry right behind them. They entered the clearing to find the Sheriff bent over, his flashlight illuminating a small, shiny object caught on a rock.

As Killian came closer he could see it for what it was, a hospital wristband. John Doe’s hospital wristband.

It was caked in mud and spluttered with… something else. He leaned in to get a closer look, his worst fears confirmed.

“Is that…?” Mary Margaret asked with a thin voice.

“Blood,” Killian confirmed, leaning back.  

Things became somewhat frantic after that. Killian kept up the pace, but let Graham and Mary Margaret take the lead. They seemed to know what they were doing, and to him every tree, every rock, and every fallen log looked the same as the last. Eventually they arrived at what seemed to be some sort of creek or river with a small bridge spanning across it.

“Where is he?” Mary Margaret asked, scouring the surroundings with her flashlight.

“The trail dies at the water line,” Graham replied grimly.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!” Killian turned around just as Mary Margaret tossed her flashlight aside, and headed towards the water line, where the body of John Doe lay sprawled.

Graham put his flashlight down too, and reached for his walkie-talkie. “I need an ambulance,” he yelled into the device. “At the old Toll Bridge, as soon as possible.” He cut the communication and made his way towards Mary Margaret.

Killian quickly glanced over Henry, who was looking visibly shaken at the sight. Killian leaned down to make sure the boy was listening to him, his words filled with as much authority as he could muster. “You stay here!” he ordered. He waited for the lad to nod his understanding, before turning to follow Graham.

Carefully, but hastily, the three of them managed to drag the man out of the water and laid him out on the ground. He was unconscious, and Killian couldn’t even tell if he was still alive.

“No, no, no, no, no! No, no, no! I found you!” Mary Margaret whispered, lost in her own self, her hands cradling his face. “It’s going to be okay,” she crooned, though to herself or to the man in her arms, Killian didn’t know.

“Help is coming,” Graham said in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring, leaning in to assess his vitals.

“Is he going to be okay?” Henry’s voice came small and fragile out of the dark, and in a moment Killian forgot everything else and ran back to where he’d left his son and pulled him into his arms.

“Henry, lad. Don’t look,” he said softly as he caressed his head, averting the kid’s eyes from the scene in front of them. He’d seen many things in his life by the time he was Henry’s age - things that still haunted him during the long nights-, things he definitely wanted to spare his son from seeing. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mary Margaret started chest compressions.

“Come back to us. Come back to me,” she whispered before leaning in to give him mouth-to-mouth. It had been a long night and everything was half in shadow, with most of their flashlights lying forgotten in the mud, but Killian could’ve sworn that the respiratory assistance ended with a desperate kiss from Mary Margaret. But perhaps he was just imagining things. It could be the day playing tricks on him.

The man started coughing, and Killian sighed in relief. His shoulders sagged while Graham let out what sounded like a whoop of joy. But when John Doe finally opened his eyes, it was only Mary Margaret that he saw.

“You saved me,” he whispered in a throaty voice, and Mary Margaret smiled through her tears.

“She did it! She woke him up,” Henry said, amazed at what he was seeing and his voice carrying a hope that Killian couldn’t bring himself to snuff out. Not at this very moment. It was all far-fetched and impossible, but at this moment, he was running out of reasons not to believe. Not when Mary Margaret had brought a coma patient back to life by the sheer force of her voice and her kiss.

“It seems so, lad.”

“Who are you?” Mary Margaret asked, her fingers still tracing a pattern down the man’s cheek.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his eyes never leaving hers.

“It’s okay,” she said, grasping for his hand. “You’re going to be okay.”

/-/

It was a short ride to the hospital, and the four of them rushed behind the stretcher that carried the patient back into the care of the doctors. Their faces were pressed against the glass as they witnessed how he was monitored. A blonde woman frantically passed them by, desperately calling the name David and entering the room. Whale tried to intervene but she refused to leave, tears coming to her eyes.

“Who is she?” Mary Margaret asked confused, and a sudden sense of dread came over Killian.

“His wife.”

He turned around to find Regina standing behind them with a calculated stare. Killian almost gasped at the information. He hadn’t seen that one coming. “His name is David Nolan. And that’s his wife, Kathryn.”

It didn’t make any sense.

He listened as Kathryn tearfully recounted her story, about her and David growing apart years ago, the strain on their marriage, her belief that he had left town long ago. Her happiness to have found him again, and the second chance she was given to make things right.

It didn’t add up, and yet Killian couldn’t find a hint of a lie in the telling of it. As far as Kathryn Nolan was concerned, s was telling the truth. And he could see how it had visibly shattered Mary Margaret’s heart with every new word she’d spoken.

And it was all his bloody fault.

Whale came back and confirmed David was in good health, but his memory was affected and his wife excused herself to be by his side.

“Well,” Regina said, “The joy on her face has put me in quite the forgiving mood.” Her eyes focused on Henry. “We’ll talk about your insubordination at home. Do you know what insubordination means? It means you’re grounded.”

Henry made a face as if he wanted to contest the decision, and Killian couldn’t help himself. “Your mother is right, Henry. You can’t run away from her like that into the woods. It was dangerous and reckless.”

Henry’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Killian held his ground. He leveled his eyes with his son’s hazel ones, and for a moment he almost faltered at that pleading look - he’d been powerless against Emma when she had that look. “Rule number 3: You do not you leave your house without permission, ‘specially to wander around in the woods at night.”

His eyes darted to Regina’s dumbfounded face before he spoke again. “You could have gotten hurt, lad.”

Regina swallowed hard before she looked at her son. “Go wait in the car, Henry, I’ll be right there.”

Killian could see Henry leaning to grab his backpack and using the opportunity to whisper something to Mary Margaret. He couldn’t hear what, but the pain evident on the woman’s face was enough for him to figure it out. Once Henry was out of the room, Regina spoke again.

“We have you to thank for all this, Mr. Jones,” she announced and Killian could feel Mary Margaret’s shocked eyes on him.

“Me?”

“That tape you found was a stroke of genius. So, we went back and looked at past tapes. Turns out Mr. Doe’s been talking in his sleep. He’s been calling out for a Kathryn. After that, it wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.” Regina shrugged, her eyes looking directly at Mary Margaret. “True love won out. So bask in the moment, dear. Were it not for you two, Kathryn and David would have lived their lives completely alone. That’s why I’m willing to forgive your meddling today. Because all this has reminded me of something oh-so very important. How grateful I am to have Henry. Because not having someone? Well, that’s the worst curse imaginable.” He couldn’t tell if the words were directed to him, to Mary Margaret or to the both of them. But they sliced through him anyway, like a sharp edged knife.

“I only want what’s best for Henry, Madam Mayor,” Killian professed, hoping that she could see that he had no intention to take him away from her. He just wanted to help Henry get better so he could go back to Boston with a clear conscience.

“Then you should leave,” Regina said with finality, before turning around and walking away. It was all Killian could do to stare after her, measuring the truth of her words, not able to stand the shattered look on Mary Margaret’s face as she watched Kathryn fold into David’s arms.

He’d done this. He’d given her false hope, and now her world was crumbling around her. He had to make it right.

I can’t leave. Not now. Not yet.

/-/

He stood by the green wooden door, shuffling his feet, trying to find the courage to knock. Regina’s words kept resonating within him, another set of memories coming back to him. He’d concealed those reminiscences in the back of his mind for so long, but now it was almost impossible to keep them at bay.

“Killian!” she’d laughed, trying hard to keep away from him as he chased her. He finally caught up with her, lifting her effortlessly by the waist and spinning around on the spot.

“Stop, I’m getting dizzy!” she pleaded.

“Liar!” he replied, but he’d stopped anyway, placing her carefully back down on the ground. She stumbled a little before she regained her footing. “You seem to forget, Swan, that I can tell when someone is lying to me.” His hand reached for hers and she let him pull her back into his arms.

“Your superpower,” she said, cocking an eyebrow at him. “The one you love to brag about.”

He tilted his head, “It is one of my qualities, isn’t it?”

“Bragging?”

He chuckled. “Knowing when someone is telling me the truth.”

She bit her lower lip, her green eyes boring into his. “So if I tell you something now, something I haven’t told anyone, you’ll know if I’m telling you the truth, right?”

His heart missed a beat, concern marring his features. “Swan, what is it? Are you in trouble? Is that why you ran away?”

She shook her head, a shy smile coming to her lips. “It’s something else, Killian.” She tilted her head, waiting for him to reply to her original question. “Would you be able to tell if I really mean it?” she wondered aloud.

“Yes, I’d be able to tell,” he confirmed, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

She leaned into him, her smile the brightest he’d ever seen it. “I love you.”

Three words. Three simple words that had changed his life forever.

He never took his eyes away from hers, even as he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. “I love you too, Swan.”

He pulled himself together, taking a deep breath as he hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder, and reached out to knock on the door.

Mary Margaret answered almost immediately, her red-rimmed eyes confirming Killian’s greatest fear.

“Is that spare room still available?” he asked with a tilt of his head, his tongue darting out in a cheesy attempt at bad flirting.

It seemed to work, as she chuckled. “What happened with wildly inappropriate?”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re not planning to make a move on me, are you?”

Her smile was small but sincere, and Killian counted that as a victory. “Come in,” she said softly, opening the door and moving to the side to let him by.

He crossed the threshold in two strides, dropping the duffel to the floor and reached for her, pulling her into a hug. “It’d be okay,” he said, letting her sink into his embrace, “Mom,” he finished with a mocking whisper.

She chuckled again, squeezing him tighter. “Thank you, Killian.”

“Any time.”