#David doesn’t care they’re his kid now damnit

[a-chaotically-small-lunta]

David goes out to find some things but it seems he has found someone.

#g/t #giant/tiny #gtjuly #my art #g/t art #gtjuly 2022 #GTJuly Scavenger Hunt #idk why this is what I thought of when I saw scavenger hunt it just is #OC: David #OC: Lily #Lily is the David’s sister aka the one in the blue dress #the baby David has is blind if you couldn’t tell #they were abandoned because of it #David doesn’t care they’re his kid now damnit #David has a soft spot for lost or abandoned or alone kids #he sees himself in them and wants to give them everything so that they can live a happy life and not go through what he did #David keeps coming home with kids and Lily is honestly okay with it but she does get surprised from time to time

[captain-emmajones]

Love, Emma (7/7)

(Art by the wonderful @carpedzem​ <33) 

Loosely based on Love, Rosie (2014).

Killian and Emma are best friends and neighbors. They’ve always been – until he leaves for the Navy when his brother dies. When he comes back, nine months later, summer has begun and childhood is ending. Emma can tell something is changed in him, but she doesn’t know what. Until she does. He’s fallen in love with someone else.

And then, suddenly, they’re kissing on her nineteenth birthday. When she asks him to forget their night out, and never talk about it again, Killian thinks she means to tell him she regrets the kiss they exchanged. Except she has no memory of it.

Big thank you to @profdanglaisstuff​ for being a wonderful beta and having my back all through this work! 

Friends to Lovers - Mutual Pining - Angst - Fluff - 7000 words - ao3

Part 1 - MIRRORBALL, Part 2 - AUGUST  , Part 3 - HOAX, Part 4 - PEACE, Part 5 - THIS IS ME TRYING, Part 6 - CARDIGAN

Note: This is it, the great, the terrible last chapter. I hope you guys will like this as much as I tortured myself writing it, making sure it is the perfect ending to this story :’) It’s been a pleasure writing this story, I loved every second of it and yeah...Thank you for sticking with me through this. It’s been really lovely having you as my readers. 

PART 7 - INVISIBLE STRING 

Present Day -- August, Storybrooke, Maine.

That night, Granny’s dinner is fuller than usual. Fuller with people, fuller with life.

It’s an agreeable summer night, the air a cool breeze against Killian and Emma’s bare arms as Mary Margaret and David argue over the color choice of the napkins for their upcoming wedding. Crickets chirp all around them, seeming to mock them.

Their plates of food are now empty, and Ruby expertely piles them up on her left arm as Mary Margaret shoots a death glare at her boyfriend.

“White is simply perfect, David.”

“So you play Snow White once in High School and now it’s your favorite color? That’s ridiculous, Mary Margaret.”

“Is it now? And what kind of color would you go for? Orange?”  

“Well, orange would be a statement for one!”

“Over my dead body, David. It’s white or nothing.”

If Emma weren’t so distracted by the warmth of Killian’s fingers around hers, she would have probably choked on her beer and mumbled “Mary Margaret - 1, David - 0.”

Thankfully for everyone, the palm that curled around hers a few minutes ago metaphorically threw her straight into a pink cloud kind of paradise.

Looking up from their intertwined fingers, Emma is greeted by the very real purple pink clouds in the night sky, behind Killian and Mary Margaret’s back. They are sitting opposite Emma and David, while Ingrid sits in the middle, a small contented smile on her lips, as she eats her onion rings in silence.

Fairy lights hang above their heads. Emma loves fairy lights, she always has.

“Why not settle for another color, mates?” tries Killian in a calm, soothing voice, and Emma is surprised he is talking at all.

He should know better. Grave, stupid mistake it is to get between Mary Margaret, David and their napkins.

“NEVER,” the couple answer as one voice, and Emma watches with a chuckle caught in her throat as Killian backs away, hands in front of his face.

“Wohoho, mates. Calm down. The only people you’re allowed to kill are each other.”

And as Emma swallows another grin, she thinks Killian and she haven’t talked about it, but that’s fine. Emma’s brain doesn’t seem able to come up with words, anyway.

A few hours ago, the walk back to Ingrid’s was achieved in near complete silence, and it was weird -- considering with whom she was walking. Actually, cross that -- it was weird to be walking back to her childhood house with Killian Jones, period.

But Emma was able to find comfort in Killian’s lack of words as well, and god knows how talkative Killian can be, she found comfort in his breathy tone when he handed her the box back and the flush on his cheeks, knowing if she could barely hear anything if not for her own heartbeats, surely he wasn’t pulling this any better than she was.

“Earth to Emma, would you like a desert?”

Emma blinks. Two green eyes are staring at her.

Right. Dinner. Granny’s. Damnit, focus Emma. Ruby’s voice sends a shameful loop down Emma’s belly.

“...Mmm, no, actually. I’m fine, for now.”

Ruby’s raising an eyebrow. Everyone is staring at her. Why are they staring?

“Are you sure, Ems?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“...It’s just, it doesn’t sound a lot like you.”

And then Emma’s pretty sure her hair stands on end.

“Really.” And each word is meant to sound more threatening than the last. “I. Am. Fine. Ruby.”

She’s not looking at him, but Emma catches Killian’s small chuckle all the same. It’s hard to ignore how easily her rage melts away, and she hides the beginning of a smile behind a napkin.

“Fine.” And Ruby nearly sounds like she is the one who got attacked. (Perhaps she was. But she deserved it.)

As the waitress disappears in a clatter of heels, Ingrid is tapping a napkin against her mouth, delicately, and Emma knows very well what this means.

“Well, it’s already 10pm. I think I’ll leave you youngsters to it.”

Emma watches as Ingrid folds the napkin in front of her, just like she always does, and gracefully stands up.  

“Goodnight, kids.” Ingrid grins, and everyone replies with a lively “Goodnight, Ingrid!”

A kiss is dropped onto Emma’s forehead, and Emma doesn’t miss the subtle pat on the back Killian receives on Ingrid’s way out. Emma thinks Ingrid’s always liked Killian, but then she stops thinking about it because David and Mary Margaret are coughing, and it is the least natural piece of acting Emma’s had the chance to witness in a while.

They both exchange a sly glance, nod and stand up at their turn, and Emma stares at them -- cheeks burning.

“Yeah, we’ll go, too. It’s getting pretty late, and we flew in very early this morning.”

Traitor, shout Emma’s eyes at Mary Margaret, but the small brunette is smiling with all of her teeth out and doesn’t seem concerned by Emma’s impending murder threat.

“Enjoy your night, guys,” David looks far too delighted. “Byye.”

“Aha, bye guys.”

Away from Granny’s dinner and up Main Street towards Granny’s B&B, the couple vanishes into the night.

And just like that, Emma and Killian are alone under the fairy lights.

Chirp, chirp.

This time, Emma cannot ignore the childish panic that strangles her throat, as his touch begins to burn her skin and her hand slowly slides out of his palm. She looks down at the green plastic table.

What to do now? Jesus, she is not nineteen anymore, she needs to take initiative, and—

“Fancy a walk along the beach, Emma?”asks Killian, and Emma is so thankful for the distraction she nearly knocks the table down as she springs to her feet.

“Excellent idea!” Why do her legs feel so wobbly?

And Killian smirks, and she wonders if he knows just how badly she is afraid, of him, of her, of risking her heart.

“Perfect then, let’s sail away.”

But she wants this to work, she wants them to work. She spent a good part of her life agonizing over this relationship, daydreaming about it, and then cursing it, and it better be as good as she thought it would be.

.

As things turn out, this walk along the beach feels like brutally falling down a rabbit hole. It knocks the wind out of Emma and it is wonderfully terrifying.

The wind blows that night. Salt air dances with Emma’s light dress and Killian’s hair.

Emma’s shoes dangle from her fingers, but she is still shaking like a leaf.

Awful, isn’t it, to finally get all you’ve ever dreamed of?

She knows it’s not entirely hers yet, she knows she still has to dash forward and grab it with her two hands, and not let it go – on any account. (Do you want it?)

It’s terrifying.

She did not reach out to Killian, this past month, although she knew about his letter...and she probably wouldn’t have reached out first, had he not appeared on her porch.

There is still this stupid fear, down her stomach, this stupid fear that he never cared, he never will, and this is all a sick joke.

(She wants it.)

“Should we sit?”

“Aye.”

He complies as she sprawls into the sand she feels moist under her toes, sitting down a few inches from him.

Somehow, staring at him still feels illegal.

When he gets a flask of rum out of his leather jacket, she rolls her eyes, and her bracelet glints under the moonlight. For the first time in ages, it is not a painful sight. She does not twist the little charms.

“Really? Is rum your solution to everything?”

“It’s not rum, Swan. It’s merely water.”

“Is it now?”

“Nah, it’s definitely rum. But it never hurts to have a drink between friends.”

And at that wicked, wicked word, they both stare at one another and gape slightly.

It should be funny. Except it still itches.

Aren’t they friends?

There are stars reflected in his eyes. There is still this ache inside her chest.

Emma is urged by a desire to look down then, but she doesn’t cave in. Instead, her mouth curves into a smile.

“…Friends or other types of acquaintances,” he adds after a while, and Emma’s smile widens.

The flask of rum is handed to her, and she drinks a few mouthfuls that diffuse a sweet heat and courage down her throat. Lord does she need it.  

“Acquaintances, you say, um?”

She licks the small drop of rum that rolls down her lower lip, notices with satisfaction as Killian’s eyes follow the movement of her tongue and widen when he realizes she has caught him red-handed.

“Aye. I believe we’ve been acquainted.” There is a delicious twirl, down in her stomach, that could drown her fears, she knows it, if only she allowed herself to let go.

“Right.”

Idiot. Her cheeks burn. It is ridiculous, they are ridiculous and she doesn’t mind.

Woosh, woosh, the waves giggle.

As Emma inhales deeply, she figures she has to give him back his flask and that this -- whatever the hell this really is -- is probably going to be more difficult than she initially thought.

Her fingers brush against his as his hand closes over the flask -- of course they do -- and Emma couldn’t honestly say who’s to blame.  

“Thanks, Swan.”

Oh, how many scenarios she made up in her mind, about him showing up. They all ended with their lips locked together. What she had a very hard time figuring out was the in-between. The talking. The confession. Because there has to be one, right?

She hears him gulp a few mouthfuls of rum down next to her and she refocuses her gaze on him. He clears his throat.

“So, erm, any plans for the foreseeable future?” he inquires.

The flask is buried in the sand between them.

“I don’t know, to be honest. For now, I think I’ll stay in Storybrooke. It’s my home.”

And then a pause, she glances at him through her eyelashes. A mischievous wave comes crashing at their feet, bites their toes.

“What about you, Killian? Still in Portsmouth?”

She watches him tilt his head next to her as he carefully sieves a handful of sand between his fingers, brows furrowed.

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about moving back to Storybrooke. Joining the Navy again would not be easy, and I’m not sure it’s entirely what I desire. I mostly did it to honour Liam but it’s never been a dream of mine…”

A pause, a breath, for him, Emma has stopped breathing somewhere after “Storybrooke”. And her mouth refuses to shut.

“Plus, there’s the fact that Graham did mention the need for another deputy,” he casually adds, shoots a swift glance at her.

Oh. Breathe, Emma, breathe.

It’s very hard, then, for Emma to swallow the smile that tingles her lips.

“You are?” she asks, curses silently her quivering tone. Clears her throat. Dammit, why did it come out like this?

If he notices it, Killian doesn’t show it. Instead, he goes on, the ghost of a smile over his lips.

“Aye. I don’t think there’s anywhere else for me to be. It is high time I came home.”

Home. The word echoes between them, much like the gentle rustling of the waves.

And Emma nods and she has no idea where to put herself, what to say. She settles for telling the truth.

“That’s great. I could really use you around.” A pause. “I’ve missed you.”

Twinkle, twinkle the stars in the night sky, and the constellations in her heart as her eyes meet his. They put to shame the sea of stars in front of them.

Emma’s heart is bursting out as he slowly glances down at her lips, and then even more slowly looks up, a dangerous grin overtaking his features.

“Aye. I’ve missed you too, Swan. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

Hearing him repeat her words is positively the worst thing that could have happened to her heart rate. That one nearly rips her heart out of her chest and sends it ricocheting on the waves.

She nods, laughs a bit, crinkles her nose mostly to hide how flustered she truly is.

“How…How did this happen?”

And he sighs next to her, a very dramatic sigh that she recognizes as a poor attempt to hide a deeper kind of pain. She watches as he stretches his legs, digs a shape into the sand with his fingers.

“How did you end up marrying Neal Cassidy, you mean? Poor judgement, if I do say so myself.”

The bastard.

She elbows him in the ribs, of course, he deserves it.

And he only chuckles, feigns a moan of pain, and… and grabs the arm she threw at him to bring her closer to him. There are grains of sand stuck to his skin as his hand closes over her fisted palm. As he stares at her, all air has definitely been knocked out of Emma’s lungs.  

His nose gently brushes hers. Little pulses of magic seem to climb up her hand, her arm, to gently tickle her heart.

And she gazes into his eyes, mortified. Swallows hard.

“To be fair, he did hide that letter from you. A shame really, it was truly a pearl of literature.”

His breath tingles Emma’s lips, and it isn’t fair.

She snorts, she tries to at least, because it is hard to do anything when he is this close to her.

“David told you,” she mumbles, rolls her eyes dramatically, blushes furiously.

He isn’t denying the letter. He isn’t denying anything.

“Aye that he did. You can’t trust the guy with a secret, love.”

She doesn’t know what David told him over the phone, but Emma thinks it is safe to assume that it is somewhere near absolutely everything. And it should bother her, it should bother that secret and private part of herself, but Emma’s tired of fighting against herself, and she lets it go. All of it.

Her hand is still in his, twisted against his chest, right above his heart. She doesn’t mind. They could remain like this, forever, for all she minds. But that wouldn’t be very practical, now, would it?

“And it’s not like I didn’t know…” he continues, and Emma’s mouth drops even more, if it is possible. “I think I’ve known from the moment I met you. Haven’t you?”

A nervous chuckle shakes her shoulders.

“What exactly have you always known?”

“You can’t answer my question with another question, Swan. That’s just not how the English language works.”

“Well, if you could drop the metaphors and double entendre, then perhaps, perhaps I…” A breath. There’s no need to hide anymore, although something ludicrous seems about to explode inside her chest. “Y-yes, I think I knew...But I --”

“-- Good, because in that case, there’s no use for me to hold back from doing this…”

And as she opens her mouth to complain about metaphors and double entendre, again, he leans into her, tilts his face and, as Emma’s heart does a weird leaping thing in her chest, delicately presses his lips to hers.

While Emma does think it is definitely very rude of him to interrupt her like that, she cannot bring herself to complain too much.

Neither can she ignore the sudden explosion in her chest, thousands of strawberry bubbles of happiness that taste of childhood and dreams bursting out.

Oh god. She muffles a moan against his mouth, snatches her hand from his grip to tug at his hair, brings him closer to her, as close as humanly possible, presses her mouth harder against his, as hard she can, and she quite literally feels like a house set on fire.

Thump, thump, cries her heart, as their lips dance together, as his hand gets lost in her hair, and no air reaches her lungs and this goddamn flower keeps blooming inside her chest and there isn’t any space between them, and she’s pretty sure she’s combusting into flames, but it’s fine, it’s really fine when his mouth opens and gives her access to his tongue.

It’s a gentle kiss, in spite of the passion. It’s such a gentle kiss, in the way with which his hand tenderly lingers in her curls, as if he were afraid she’d shatter under his touch, or in the way his other arm curls around her waist, holds her tightly, but not too tightly, so as not to break her it seems.

Years of yearning will do that to you, make you afraid of shattering the glittering and fragile object of your affection.

And when they let go, burning forehead against burning forehead, because they really, really need to breathe, Emma doesn’t want to run. In fact, she doesn’t want this to ever end. And she doesn’t know it, but she smiles.

“Then why –” he begins, his lips lightly, delicately brushing against hers as he speaks.

And how dare he be talking! She can barely breathe.

“—why the wedding?” she lazily answers against his lips. “Because I didn’t think you cared…” A pause. “You never told me you did... You didn’t even call, after the k-kiss.”

Damnit, that was harder to spit out than anticipated. And it probably sounded more accusing than she wanted it to, but she forgives herself.

The painful memory allows her to step back a little, to gaze into his blue eyes and discover his cheeks crimson and an awestruck look on his face, as well as a lot of guilt and tenderness.

A sigh. “Of course I didn’t. I was waiting for you to do it. You were bloody engaged, may I remind you.”

Her brows furrow.

“And I did! But you didn’t answer.” Silence. “Tink did.”

She watches his features with weariness. She watches as he frowns. Backs away slightly, to gaze into her eyes, seems to seek the truth. And then, sighs.

“Of bloody course. Tink.” Emma watches as he rolls his eyes dramatically, hisses a few insults between his teeth.

She thinks he is still infuriatingly handsome.

Another nervous laughter begins rattling her body, because this is ridiculous, they are ridiculous, they just had to talk it out and it would have been fine but --

“Seems like our lack of communication isn’t only on us.”

Emma smirks. “Well, it’s mostly on us.”

“Point taken.” And it’s unfair because he smiles a bright smile then and her heart jumps once more.

And he looks down, again, at her lips, and Emma feels frozen only she is burning. She needs to kiss him again, and forever, probably.

“But if you cared--” Why is he talking again? She opens eyes she didn’t know she had shut to dart a murderous gaze on him. He doesn’t see it, the fool, keeps talking instead. “--why did you ask me to forget our kiss?”

That nearly knocks her out. “Our kiss? Which kiss?”

She doesn’t know just how right she is to ask this question.

He raises an eyebrow. His cheeks are flushed and his hair dishevelled, and Emma has to focus to look into his eyes and not stare at his swollen lips.

“You mean to tell me you don’t remember?”

And his eyes do a weird twitching thing. He doesn’t seem alright. And he sounds a little bit as if a part of himself has just died.

“I mean… I sure as hell think I would remember this.” Oh, she totally would.

“Your nineteenth birthday,” he exhales, and if he could raise his eyebrows any harder, they’d get stuck up his hairline, “we kissed on the rooftop right before you fell to the ground.”

Well, she does remember the wicked headache she got that day, but she thought it was caused by the alcohol and…

“No…Yes?” A pause. She frowns. Realization sinks in. Well that would explain a lot, indeed. “We did?”

That would explain his crumpled face as she asked him to forget their night, it would explain why he avoided her all through summer, and why he stayed with Milah, and why she started dating Neal in the first place, and oh -- they are two idiots, aren’t they?

“Aye. And you specifically asked me to forget that night.”

If she keeps frowning her eyebrows will remain stuck forever. She frowns harder.

“But I had no memory of that kiss.”

“Bloody hell.” And Killian lets go of a very dramatic sigh, shakes his head.

Emma’s mouth forms an “O” as she watches Killian glance further away, to the sea, and she begins to understand years of struggle could have been avoided, had they, had they…well, talked about it, it seems.

An angel passes.

“Damnit,” she whispers.

And Emma is surprised to find a chuckle tickling her throat. Why is she laughing? This isn’t funny.

He still isn’t looking at her. Impish waves keep nibbling their toes. She hates how heavy everything suddenly feels.

Emma thinks that all this time he thought-- he thought she didn’t care, but she did, oh she cared, and...

Emma breathes in, fingers pressed to her temples. Shrugs a bit, breathes out and casts an eye on Killian. He doesn’t seem alright. But she knows how to distract him.

“Since I don’t remember, allow me to ask: did you kiss me?”

His blue eyes flash in the dimness as she smirks.

She doesn’t think she has seen him look this offended before.

“I beg your pardon? You bloody kissed me, Emma!”

His high pitch does make her chuckle.

“Don’t give me that offended look. That does sound like something you’d do.”

Oh, the wrath sparkling in his gaze then, it’s a sight for sore eyes, and she cannot stop smiling.

“Nah, you were the one who melted onto my lips and sucked the bloody life out of me, perched on your high heels.”

“They weren’t that high. And, at least I did something about my feelings.”

“Well, you forgot so it was pretty useless in the end, anyway.”

“Hey!”

And her fist punches his chest, and he captures it again, traitor, and time stands still for a moment, as they glance at each other.

Everything still feels very fragile and terrifying. But that’s quite alright.

And then with a swing of his hip, he shifts her under his weight, onto the sand, and her body meets the ground softly.

His face surrounded by dark, tousled hair hides the moon from her sight, but as her breath catches in her chest, she doesn’t mind.

“You were saying?”

“Mmm…”

Emma thinks sand will get stuck in her hair. And it’s going to be a pain to wash it out. But that’s okay.

They’re only twenty-three, murmurs her inner voice, they’re allowed to be young and stupid and messy and –

“Well, I’m glad it didn’t take us another ten years to figure our shit out. Wouldn’t be nearly as sexy.”

“Speak for yourself, Swan.”

“Idiot.”

And without a second thought, or a first, she raises her face to capture his lips, drink his breath, because she is allowed to, and this is right and all she’s ever wanted.

.

Up the beach, down Main street, Killian and Emma walk along the roads of their childhood.

Emma doesn’t know where they are going, but it doesn’t seem to matter, not just yet.

Fear is of course lurking in one deep corner of her mind, but it is easy to ignore it while her hand is safely tucked in his.  

“Where are you staying?” she asks as they shift to stare at one another.

Granny’s green B&B sign flashes behind Killian’s back.

Amusement sparkles in his eyes. “Granny’s.”

Emma remembers New York’s cold street lights, and the snow melting onto her lips, and Killian’s damp hair, and the sad glimmer in his blue eyes and her cold, shaking hand in his.

It was the night she decided to give him up, not knowing, not knowing he cared too.

It was the night she would have burned in hell to hear him invite her into his hotel room.

(Was it worth it, all the pain, in the end?)

“Fancy a last drink, Swan?”

Streetlights dabble gold beams into his blue eyes.

She nods, a little out of breath. Something soft and awful swallows her from inside.

“Yeah.”

And down the road, up the stairs, they go, hands clasped together. Her bracelet jingles up the stairs.

Emma remembers standing on his porch before her eighteenth birthday party, forehead pressed to the door, eyes locked on her phone screen, heart beating fast, fast.

“Come in whenever you want, I’m ready!” And her stomach twisting at his reply.

Things were so easy while she was still convinced that she was in love with him and she would never love anyone else and they had all the time in the world.

She was wrong, but that’s also fine.

(Isn’t pain just pain?)

Click, he’s unlocked the door, and Emma steps forward to gaze inside. Beyond Granny’s questionable decoration choices, everything is clean and proper and Navy and Killian. What a relief.

It is quite late now, and exhaustion burns Emma’s eyes, circles her throat and crudely brings to light her fears and insecurities. She feels bare, exposed, vulnerable under the dark green chandelier.

For a short moment, she fears there will be too much to mend between them, too many scars over their chest for them to offer their hearts again.

“Make yourself at home, Swan.”

The red leather jacket is dropped onto the bed just as he neatly folds his own on a chair by the wall.

And she keeps staring at those four walls, at this cramped room, and she thinks a month ago she was marrying someone else.

She’s still scared. Is she supposed to be scared?

“You okay, love?” he nudges her.

His hand softly grabs her shoulder.

She shrugs. If she is honest with herself, she does feel a little bit overwhelmed. This room is too silent. She can almost hear past echoes of their hearts breaking.

“Yes, I’m just…”

“Reminiscing?”

A smile. “That’s not the word I would have gone for, but yeah.”

His hand hurtles down her arm and slides into hers. His touch still shoots electric trails all over her skin.

“Want to sit down, Swan?” A nod, and he’s tucking her down with him.

When Killian switches on the small outdated TV on the wooden table in front of them, Emma sighs in relief.

And when still no words echo between them, Emma feels his eyes burn the skin of her cheek.

New York again. A cold bench. The snow falling onto his hair. This pain, in her chest, as he utters her name. Milah.

(Pain is just pain.)

“What are you thinking about, Swan?”

She blinks, licks her lips. Breathes in.

Will not look at him.

Augusta airport this time. His back, his image printed in blood over her retinas, this dark shape she cannot forget, forever turned on her.

“The past.”

The pain.

Storybrooke’s town hall. Her weary eyes twitching back and forth from Neal towards the door. Begging Killian to appear. And he doesn’t. (Or he does, but he’s too late.)

“Listen, Emma,” and his fingers have found hers again, and they are soft, and she looks up to discover his eyes even gentler, and his lips spread in a tender smile, “The past is behind us and we cannot change it.”

“But there’s been so much pain…”

She sounds like she is twelve again, she can almost touch Ingrid’s wooden fence under her fingers, can almost feel the tingling fear that a splinter might get stuck in the tender skin, and she can almost smell the yellow irises, and it almost brings her to tears.

“I know. But we can do better now.”

She nods. Can they do better? What if all of this is just a chimera and they’ve both idealized their love and what if … What if none of this is real?

She should sleep. Her eyelids are heavy and her eyes burn.

But then his hand cups her cheek, and its warmth brings her back to reality, tethers her. Her own palm settles above his as she leans into his touch. Closes her eyes, for just one bit.

She is so tired. Morpheus is luring her into his arms.

“As long as I am alive--” Oh, but then he is talking, and his voice is velvet against her skin, and she opens her eyes to stare at him. She’s pretty sure he can hear the thump of her heart. “--you can live with the conviction, Swan, that I will always be by your side.” A pause. “Always.” Another silence, his words sinking into her skin, as his fingers trace butterflies along her neck. A smile. “I’ve always been in love with you. From the moment I met you.”

Oh. Her eyes widen. Thump, thump.

She is swallowed by a gigantic wave of confused feelings. She thinks an earthquake is shattering the windows and shaking the walls. She thinks a tear rolls down her cheek, but she is not crying.

And it’s not like she didn’t know, she knew, but, but also she didn’t, for so long, and this is all very confusing and unexpected but very much expected, and he keeps staring at her and she doesn’t know what to say, for fuck’s sake.

And the only answer she can come up with is her trembling hands caressing his cheeks and then slowly grabbing the lapel of his t-shirt, and then, finally -- the pressure of her lips against his. Tender, at first, and then furious, desperate, hungry.

She wants to tell him, I loved you when you walked away from me, the first time, and the times after that, as well. I loved you although you never looked back at me, and I couldn’t look forward. I loved you when you were avoiding me, and I loved you when I didn’t think I loved you anymore. But mostly, I loved you from the moment I met you.

Instead, she presses her mouth into his, fiercely, for all of those times she wishes she had been brave enough to kiss him and she didn’t.

And Emma forgives them both. Forgives their past mistakes and heartaches.

They will do better. (They want to, and that’s already half of the journey, isn’t it?)

.

A number. Nineteen. Emma’s nineteen tonight. He’s been for a while now. (He feels a hundred years old since Liam left. Feels like he’s been holding his breath for centuries. Only the pain doesn’t flatter.)

They’re on a rooftop. Emma’s pink dress floats in the wind, much like a pirate flag. Her smile, that night, is bright, vivid, infuriatingly confident as she glances down at his lips.

The waves crash against the sand, back and forth, back and forth.

Her body is warm against his chest. Both of his hands hold her waist.

Time stands still, as she stands up on her tip toes and kisses him.

It’s an explosion, then, in his chest. A mercurial bliss.

And this time, he catches her before the fall. He doesn’t let her go. This time, his grip is secure around her waist, his fingers firm around her hips as she stumbles forward and they chuckle together.

This time, she doesn’t forget their kiss.

No.

Instead, she stares deeply into his eyes and she says: “I’ve been meaning to do that for a while, now.”

And he says: “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

And if everything is easy, it’s only because it is a dream.

.

A ray of sunshine tickles Killian’s eyelids. His face crinkles, he groans, opens one hesitant eye.

Bloody hell. What a dream. Or a nightmare, he cannot really tell.

There is a weight against his chest, bitterness at the back of his mouth.

He glances down. Emma. She fell asleep in his arms last night while he was slowly rocking her, and they forgot to close the shutters and now Killian will never fall back to sleep again.

His eyes still burn.

He gazes at her face buried in the hollow of his neck, blonde hair across his chest. He smiles.

A hospital room, eight months ago. A blinding, golden light. Her sleepy smile. “Oh, you’re awake?”

He would pinch himself if he had a hand to spare.

Those six months, without her, thinking she didn’t want him, were some of the bleakest of his life.

It was like losing a limb, only he lost two. And he had to keep on learning how to walk without an anchor, how to live without a hand and without hers to hold.

And then, David’s call, one morning.

“They broke up, Killian. Neal found your letter. I think you should do something about that, or I will personally come to murder you in your pitiful apartment, do you hear me?”

Emma snores lightly against his skin. He traces the shape of her jawline with gentle fingers.

He is terrified. Perhaps it is the only way to be, for now.

Perhaps it is good. It means they’re trying. They’re evolving, together, for the first time in ages.

A grunt, her small hand spread across her face, she’s starting to wake up, he can tell.

There is still a lot of sadness in his chest, for the boy who loved a girl and suffered deeply for it. For the boy who lost everything and still managed to lose more through the years, until there wasn’t anything left to lose.

Liam’s smile from his car window. A wave. And then void, nothing.

Killian clenches his jaw.

“Hey,” a small voice groans, “if you keep staring at me while I sleep, it’s going to get creepy.”

A grin.

“Sorry love, couldn’t sleep.”

Emma lifts her chin, green eyes shimmering in this golden morning light, and she tries a sleepy smile.

“Morning, Killian.”

“Morning, Emma.”

“Am I crushing you under my weight?”

“I think I’ll survive, love.”

She still hesitates to kiss him, he sees it in the small start of her head backwards, so he bends forward to kiss her.

It’s a sloppy morning kiss, but he wants all of them.

Last night, they absolutely did not take time to undress. Emma fell asleep like a rock, and he was too afraid he’d wake her up to try and remove his clothes.

But she seems very much awake as her legs curl around his hips, and it is very hard for Killian to ignore the way her dress climbs back up her thighs and gives away the beginning of her red panties.

He can feel his cheeks become hot and red, and suddenly Emma’s smirking at him.

“Like what you see?”

He swallows down.

“It’s quite alright, aye.”

A squeeze of her thighs around his torso, he is trapped, and his heart leaps.

“Alright?” she repeats. “That’s definitely a disappointing answer.”

As for Killian’s heart, it’s practically bursting out in his chest by now. He gulps.

He cannot say he hasn’t thought a lot about it, what it would feel like to go beyond a simple kiss with Emma. How her skin would taste under his tongue.

He may have started to think about it at around age fifteen, when he saw her come back from summer vacation all tan legs out, and he can still hear Liam’s mocking tone “If you open your mouth any wider, little brother, you’re going to swallow flies.”

The thoughts worsened after their kiss. There were some lonely, desperate moments as well during which he imagined tracing the shape of her body, much like his fingers flutter against the side of her leg right now.

His eyes don’t leave hers, scrutinizing her to know if he is allowed to go further.

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to, Emma,” he whispers.

The wicked smile she shoots him is a sufficient answer. “Oh don’t worry, I want to.”

And then her lips find his again and his fingers are gripping her thigh now, clutching her skin, leaving marks, climbing back up some more and feel the soft skin right under the fabric of her dress.

She moans against his mouth, and it’s a wonderful sound, and suddenly they are both wearing far too many clothes and they have to hurry or they’ll combust into flames.

Emma straddles him just as her nimble fingers pull her dress up and throw it over her head.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself,” he mumbles and it’s very hard to look anywhere else but at her naked body.

But she’s already getting impatient with his t-shirt, and she groans. “Come on Killian, help me. Raise your arms up.”

“Didn’t think you’d become such a morning person, Swan.”

She laughs a bit as his t-shirt hits the floor in its turn in a muffled sound, and she does this thing where she stops to gaze into his eyes and he will die for a lack of oxygen.

He watches as she swallows, ogling him.

“Some things are worth waking up for.”

And then she’s melting into the skin of his neck as her fingers sift through his hair, and Killian ceases completely to think.

.

A month later -- Augusta Airport.

Emma clutches Ingrid’s yellow irises against her chest. Her hold is gentle but her lips form a firm line.  

As she stares at the Arrivals Board in front of her, the beat of her heart is drumming in her ears, and she is pretty certain oxygen is having a very hard time reaching her lungs. 

He’s only been gone a week, mumbles her inner voice, but Emma’s too happy to pay attention to her pride. 

She glances up, and a breath of relief escapes Emma’s throat as the light next to Portsmouth changes color.  

“He’s landed,” she whispers to herself, flowers still pressed to her chest.

She glances down, careful not to damage the beautiful bouquet Ingrid offered last night, over the dinner table. 

“I know how much he loves them,” Ingrid smiled. 

Another look at the clock. He should be here any time now. 

Her heart skips a blissful beat. 

A part of her still cannot believe this is real. That he is coming home, for good, that Emma found them a cute apartment near the beach and they’re going to get everything they’ve ever dreamed of.  

“Are you sure you want to do this...I mean, we could wait, and I could go back to Ingrid’s for a while…”

A butterfly in the dark, a kiss in the night. 

“I’ve never been so sure of anything…” 

Gazing all around her, Emma spots the familiar large window in front of her. It still shows a blurry reflection of her body. Emma frowns. Well, that will never change. One hand reluctantly gives up on the flowers to comb her hair. 

It is now mid September in Storybrooke, Maine, and Emma has to admit she’s missed him.  

It wasn’t the kind of missing him she was far too familiar with only two months ago. It wasn’t a burning ache in her chest. It was just like losing your glasses and finding them again on your bed table, where you left them. It’s a kind of missing she knew to end. And it made a great difference. 

As she remains very still, feet stuck to the ground, she remembers shaking, bouncing up and down on her feet, waiting for him to come back the first time, four years ago. 

Nothing’s really changed. She is still Emma and he is still Killian. Except everything’s changed. 

It feels like another lifetime. Emma smiles down at the flowers in her hands. A very peaceful sunflower blooms in her chest. 

The crowd of people around her brings Emma back to the present. More people gather together, and Emma understands they are all just as eager to see their loved ones as she is.

And she waits, knowing her love is about to arrive. 

Another few minutes go by, and time seems to slow down. She clenches her jaw. Unclenches it. Come on, relax, Emma. 

And then… And then, there he is.

“Killian.” The blissful whisper escapes her throat as a brutal wave of bliss sweeps her off her feet. She doesn’t hold it back. It isn’t scary anymore.

  She’s somehow thankful to notice he hasn’t changed one bit, but it’s only been a week, what was she expecting? A tender hue of blue meets her eyes and smiles in recognition.

“Emma, my love,” he mirrors her happy sigh. 

Her heart beams as they walk towards each other, their pace sure and quick and knowing, and in a few steps he lets go of a thousand suitcases to pick her up from the ground. 

  “Careful, Killian, your flowers,” she complains even as her feet quit the floor.

And she tries to hold the bouquet away from his face, but he doesn’t seem to care and presses a long kiss to her mouth instead.  

She sighs happily into his embrace, wraps her arms around his neck, and her senses are filled by him – his smell, a strong cologne she is only too familiar with, his skin under her fingers, his tousled black hair.

“I missed you,” he exhales against her cheek, and drops another kiss to her cheek. 

She slowly backs away, smiling. “It’s only been a week…” 

He raises an eyebrow that challenges her to lie some more. She chuckles, crinkles her nose, mumbles: “Okay, I might have missed you too…”

He sighs a dramatic sigh, rolls his eyes. 

“Now, you nearly gave me a heart attack, Swan. I was this close from flying back to Portsmouth.”   

Idiot, her inner voice snorts, unimpressed. But her heart isn’t very concerned, and a giggle jolts out of her throat. Even her cheeks give her away, flush furiously, and she hates them for it - come on, it’s been a month now. 

Her hand lingers on his face, tracing the little scar on his cheek.  

“Are you going to take those flowers, or should I keep them for myself?” She attacks in a coy, sharp tone. 

He flutters his eyelashes. The fucker. 

“If the lady insists.” 

A roll of the eye, a bright smile, and Emma’s heart sighs -- defeated. And the flowers carefully slip into his hand. 

He drops another kiss to her lips. “Thank you, love.” 

“Of course, Killian.” 

And then there is this very dramatic moment during which they both stare at his three enormous suitcases and wonder how the hell they are going to make this work. 

“Damnit. Did you have to take your whole life with you?” 

“Well, a blonde lass did ask me to move in with her.” 

Her fist punches his shoulder, playfully. Another sigh echoes all through the airport’s hall. 

“Well, let’s go, I guess.”  

She’s quick to grab the bag he let go of to hold her and seizes two red suitcases. And he watches her, the fucker, flowers in the crook of his arm and the third suitcase secure his hand. He seems infinitely entertained. 

“Don’t you dare laugh in my face, Killian Jones.”

“Well, if it weren’t for the flowers, I could maybe hel-”

“-- NO. You keep the damn flowers! For once Ingrid offered them.” 

And as they are walking down the airport like old times, Emma knows they’ll do better. They already are doing better. 

(Emma thinks pain is just pain, and they should have known sooner, they should have known better but she also thinks that doesn’t matter because surely there is no kind of pain that cannot be absolved by a lot of love.)

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

@yasbio2015 @bubblegum1425 @daenerysmyhsa @dancingnancyy @elizabeethan @farewell-courgette  @beca0912 @stina-g @tenaciouskittynightmare @noensnaringnet @klynn-stormz @sekretny13 @tiganasummertree @vvbooklady1256 @brustudyblog @peggyyswan @thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @courtorderedcake @snowbellewells @kingofmyheart14 @teamhook @mariakov81​ @folkloreismylullaby​ @officerrogers​

(Might write some missing scenes, and add a few bonuses to this story, so if you’ve got anything in mind you’d like to read, hit me up ;) (actually hit me up for anything and let’s be friends.) 

#cs fanfics #cs ff #captain swan #my stuff #amy writes #i need to find a new source of serotonin guys #my brain doesn't want to let this go #thank you all for your comments #and likes #and just for reading this story #it means the world to me #and i'm so glad i got to talk to some of you through this <3 #i hope you'll this #and now i'll shut up

[donteattheappleshook]

Seal of Approval

Tumblr ate my answer so I’m gonna post the story this way. This is a response to an anonymous prompt for a CS/Snowing double date combined with an Ao3 prompt for a CS date set during the six week gap in season 4. 

Big thanks to @xhookswenchx and @teamhook for looking this over when I was pulling my hair out! (also sorry if you accidentally get tagged twice because of this lol)

Also on Ao3 as part of my new CS Prompt Collection

-/-

Emma gets up quickly, sets down one of the giant muffins her mom made and heads in the direction of the crib when she hears her brother crying. Damnit, she’d only just gotten him to sleep, only just gotten to sit down and have a bite to eat. Babysitting sucks. She loves baby Neal - even if she isn’t the biggest fan of his name - but anyone that comes between her and a snack is going to have something to answer for. 

“Hey, man,” she says, picking him up out of his crib and bouncing him on her hip. “Couldn’t hold in the waterworks until Mom and Dad came home?” Neal stops crying and smiles up at her, grabbing a fistfull of her sweater and leaning his head on her shoulder. Okay, maybe he’s not so bad. He could be worse. He could be a giant ice monster, or a dragon, or the Dark One.

She shudders. It’s been three weeks since their last crisis, since the Ice Queen sacrificed herself and since Belle banished Gold from Storybrooke. Emma still can’t believe she did that, can’t believe the amount of guts and backbone that it took for her to do that despite the love she’s sure Belle will always have for him. But he’d gone too far, threatened too many people, lied to them too many times, and he’d had to pay the price. 

Since he’s been gone it’s been, well, quiet. It’s strange - for Storybrooke anyway. Emma and her dad take turns working at the station, Mary Margaret is back at the school regularly now that there’s no monster to fight. Killian has been spending his time working alongside Belle to help free the fairies from the Sorcerer’s hat - that’s a friendship Emma hadn’t seen coming, but she’s glad that Killian has someone else in town to spend time with besides her and David. He’s really starting to feel like a part of the community. 

Today is her day off, and while she’d have liked to spend it hanging out with Killian on his newly returned ship - not that they really ever leave the cabin but that’s besides the point - he and Belle are pretty sure they’ve had a breakthrough and Granny had to cancel on babysitting. So she’d agreed to do it. How much trouble can a kid be? She has fake memories of raising one after all. Neal spits up in her hair. She sighs. How much longer until her parents get home?

“Hi Sweetheart,” Snow says, walking through the door just as Emma has set Neal down with a few of his toys and is attempting to wash baby vomit out of her hair in the kitchen sink. “How was your day?” she asks, picking the baby up. David walks in behind her.

“Great,” she lies. Her mom doesn’t need to know. “He already had his supper but I didn’t give him his last bottle yet.” 

“Thanks,” David says, kissing her forehead. It’s still a bit weird, knowing that David and Mary Margaret are her parents, that they’re the same age as her. But it’s weird in the same way that it’s weird that everyone in town is a fairytale character. She’s starting to get used to it and if she doesn’t think about it too much, she can forget it. Mostly. Usually. 

“How was the station, Dad?” she asks. 

“Quiet,” he says. “Just some teens graffitiing the alley behind Granny’s.” 

“Did you use your scary prince face?” she asks. 

“I don’t have a scary prince face!” he insists. “But no, I sicked Granny on them,” he tells her with a knowing smirk.

Emma laughs. “How was school?” she asks Mary Margaret. 

Mary Margaret goes on to tell her about her day, about the work the kids are doing, how they’re adjusting to everything. She also mentions that she saw Killian and Belle on her way home and that they were finishing up at the library from the looks of it. 

“Killian was walking her home,” she tells her. “It was sweet. I think he worries about her.” 

Emma smiles a little. “Yeah, well, Killian has a history with women who’ve loved the Dark One.” Both her parents frown and she realises this is not a backstory she wants to get into - or one that’s hers to tell. “I think I’ll head over,” she tells them. “Go meet Killian on the Jolly if he’s done for the day.”

“Again?” David asks and the way he says it makes her pause. 

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“Well you’ve - you’ve been there almost every night this week,” David says. 

“Yeah, it’s Regina’s week with Henry. What’s your point?” she asks with a raised brow. 

“David,” Snow interrupts. “She’s a grown woman. If she wants to spend her time at her boyfriend’s that’s totally up to her.”

“Boyfriend?” David demands, shock and disbelief and a hint of panic in his tone. 

“David...” it’s a warning this time. 

“Do you have a problem with me dating Killian?” Emma asks. She thought her dad was starting to like Killian. Had she been wrong? 

There’s a long, tense moment before David speaks. “No,” he says finally, shoulders falling on his exhale. “I just… didn’t realise you guys were so serious.” He’s trying really hard to sound casual and she appreciates that. 

“Yeah, well,” she says. It is serious. She thinks. They date and spend most nights on his ship together, they’re sleeping together and as far as she knows neither of them are sleeping with other people. He tried True Love’s Kiss on her for god’s sake and as terrifying as that idea still is… well, yeah, she’s pretty sure it’s getting serious. More serious than she’s let anything get in a long time. Walsh doesn’t count. 

“Then I think we should meet him,” David says and both Emma and Snow turn to him in confusion. “Properly.”

“Dad, you know Killian.” Was there another curse that came through town that she didn’t hear about? 

“I don’t mean meet him I mean…” he searches for words. “If we were back in the Enchanted Forest, or even if we’d been able to raise you here, if you were dating someone seriously you would have brought him over, for dinner or something, so that we could meet him properly, as your boyfriend.” He nearly chokes on the last word. 

Emma frowns at him, skeptical. “Is this some weird thing so that you can ask him about his intentions or something?”

“No!” he insists quickly. He clears his throat. “Besides, I already did that,” he adds quietly.

“You did what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No, he didn’t tell me!” 

“Huh,” is all David says. 

“Probably because he knew it would make me annoyed at you. He wouldn’t want that.” David’s face softens and looks guilty all at once. “He’s changed.”

“I know he has. I just… we didn’t get to raise you and meet any of your boyfriends. This time, if it’s something real, I want to get to know him better,” he says and Emma lets her hackles down a little. “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Are you planning to interrogate him?”

“No… I mean I have some questions,” he starts and holds a hand up when Emma starts to protest. “But they’re normal questions. The kind a dad should be allowed to ask the man who’s dating his daughter.” 

Emma sighs. “I get it, Dad. I do. But, I’m not a kid. We’re the same age and bringing my boyfriend over for some formal, meet the parents dinner just feels… weird.”

“Why don’t we do something else then?” Snow chimes in, ever the peacekeeper. “Maybe… a double date!”

“A what?” Emma and David answer in unison. 

“Like you said, we’re all the same age. Why don’t we all go out and do something fun together? That way, we can get to know Killian better without so much pressure. Emma has a point, Sweetheart. The age thing makes it weird so maybe, this way, we can work on being friends,” she finishes very diplomatically, her hand stroking David’s arm. 

“But I…” David starts. 

“Honey, our daughter is a grown woman. Killian is older than you. We can’t pretend she’s a little girl that needs looking after. Besides, it’s been a while since we had a date night.” 

David sighs, caving. “Alright,” he agrees and Emma shares a thankful look with her mom. David looks up again. “But can I at least -”

“No,” Snow and Emma cut him off. 

-/-

“So listen,” Emma says, propping her chin on Killian’s chest, her fingers drawing patterns through the hair there. “I need you to do something for me.” 

Killian’s smile is obscene as he pulls her in closer, hand wandering over her naked back. “Anything,” he promises as his fingers trace over the skin at the curve of her hip. He’s gonna regret saying that, she thinks. She really wishes she didn’t have to ask him what she’s about to ask him because she knows it’s going to stop the trail of his hand cold. 

“I need you to go on a date with me and my parents.” 

He freezes, blinks. “I’m sorry?” he asks with a small shake of his head, eyes wide. “What?” He’s frowning at her now and it’s really almost funny to watch all the emotions play across his face. She pulls back, sits up, letting the sheet fall around her waist and taking a moment to appreciate the way his eyes drift down despite his confusion. 

“David and Mary Margaret want to go on a double date with us.”

“They want to spend an evening out with us? With me? With the man who is currently engaging in sexual congress with their daughter?” 

She smacks him on the shoulder and he laughs, catching her hand and pulling her back down on top of him. “Oh my god. You cannot make reference to the fact that we’re having sex! I think my dad is still trying to convince himself that I’m a virgin.” Killian smiles wickedly again and she glares. “Don’t,” she warns and he bites his lip. 

“So what exactly would this evening entail? Would they care to join us for a night on the Jolly Roger?” 

Emma shakes her head. “It’s too cold. We just don’t notice it because we stay down here.”

“That’s not true,” he insists. “There was that one night on the deck. I believe we managed to keep quite warm.” She rolls her eyes. “So what then? Dinner at Granny’s?” 

She shakes her head again. “They said that wasn’t special enough since we eat there all the time together. And the whole town would be there.”

“Alright. Then what did they suggest?”

Emma shuts her eyes and buries her head in his chest, not wanting to say her next words. “They want to go for drinks at the Rabbit Hole,” she mumbles against him. 

“The Rabbit Hole?” he asks and she can hear the raised eyebrow in his tone. “Why the devil would they suggest that?”

“Because I told them we go there,” she groans. He’s looking at her when she finally lifts her head, waiting for an explanation. “They had another one of those ‘we’re not old, we’re fun’ moments and they asked me what we like to do with our time together and I panicked because I couldn’t tell them what we actually do when we spend the night together so I just blurted out that we like to go hang out at the Rabbit Hole and they just jumped on the idea and well, here we are.” 

Killian looks equal parts like he wants to laugh and jump overboard at the idea of going to a bar with her parents. It’s not her fault! She had to come up with something and the truth of the matter is that she and Killian are still in the honeymoon period of their relationship - though she doesn’t really see it slowing down anytime soon. This is the first quiet moment they’ve had since they really got together. This is the first time they’ve been able to really be together and not just find a few stolen minutes when her parents are out of the loft or when they could steal away to his room at Granny’s. It’s nice, just being able to enjoy each other. 

“Well,” Killian finally says. “I suppose it has been a while since I took you out properly.” Emma looks up at him, relieved and hopeful. “Besides,” he shrugs, his hand resuming its path again. “It could be fun.” 

Emma does not appreciate the look in his eye when he says that - well, okay she does, a lot, but not the implication of what that look could mean for tomorrow night. “Behave yourself,” she warns him. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Swan,” he insists. “I will be the picture of propriety.” Yeah right. She doesn’t believe that for a second.

“My dad still has a sword.”

Killian smirks, rolls her over onto her back and settles his hips into the cradle of her thighs. He gives her a wink. “So do I.” 

-/-

When Emma and Killian arrive at the Rabbit Hole, the place is already nearly packed with people. Emma’s not surprised, the town only has one bar and, well, there’s not much else to do on a Friday night here. She’s broken up enough fights at one in the morning when she works the night shift to know how rowdy this place can get. Which is why she still can’t believe this is where her parents wanted to have their date. Here. Of all places. She sighs, maybe she should have let them just have Killian over for dinner. 

“What’s wrong, Love?” Killian asks, nudging her shoulder and leaning down so he can whisper in her ear. She’s sure the volume in this place has something to do with it, but not everything to do with it as the goosebumps rise up on her neck and she feels his lips against her skin. So much for best behaviour. 

“Just thinking that I’m definitely going to need a drink if I’m gonna make it through tonight.” 

“Aye, you and me both,” he smirks, directing her towards the bar. Emma can’t actually remember the last time she came here for a drink and not for work. It’s weird, people keep looking at her like they’re expecting to get arrested. What’ll they think when the King and Queen walk in?

“Two rums please,” Emma orders and the bartender heads off to get them their drinks. 

“Crowded in here, wouldn’t you say?” Killian asks, sliding in closer and wrapping his hooked arm around her so that her back presses into his chest. Cheeky, she thinks. Not that she really has any issue with him finding a reason to press up against her. If her parents weren’t about to walk through that door any minute, she’d roll her hips back against him, just to get him worked up. But they are coming. So she doesn’t. 

They’re handed their drinks and toast, to surviving the night, and then throw them back in one shot, ordering a second round. Those are thrown back too. She doesn't intend on getting drunk, just a little loose, enough that she can get through the social awkwardness of dating with her parents - but not so much that she might say or do anything to give herself away. 

Killian leans in under the guise of making room for someone squeezing by behind them. Suddenly, his lips are by her ear and she can feel his smile against it, the one he gets when the rum is just starting to warm his blood.

“Killian,” she warns when his lips close around her earlobe, and then start trailing slowly down her neck. 

“Hmm?” he hums, playing innocent. 

“My parents are going to be here any minute.” 

“Indeed,” he speaks against her neck and then continues, unperturbed. “But they aren’t here yet, are they?” 

Fine then, if that’s how he wants to play. She pushes back against him, her ass pressing into the front of his jeans and his lips fumble against her skin. He clears his throat and when he speaks again his voice is rougher, a little bit of an edge to it. 

“Careful what game you’re playing there, Swan,” he warns. She smirks.

“You started it.” She sees the door open, sees who comes in as they scan the room, looking. Emma grabs her third drink in one hand and then reaches back to brush her fingers against the hardening length pressing against her back. Killian growls. “Mom! Dad!” she calls then, waving them over. The sound Killian makes is priceless. She knows she’ll probably end up paying for it but it’s enough to see him so thrown off his game when she looks over her shoulder. 

She steps forward, out of the circle of his arms and into her mom’s embrace. “Hi sweetheart!” Snow says, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Hi Killian,” she says, looking over Emma’s shoulder. Killian coughs awkwardly and raises his glass in greeting. Emma bites back her smile.

David leans in for a hug too and then reaches out to shake Killian’s hand. Emma notices that he keeps the majority of his body behind her as he takes her father’s hand. Maybe she was a little too mean. He really was asking for it though. 

After a second, he recovers flawlessly, smiling at her parents with that charm she knows has gotten him through more challenging situations than this one. “So, what will you have?” Killian asks, waving down the bartender. 

“Beer for me,” David says, pointedly speaking to the bartender rather than letting Killian order for him. She sees the slight smile on Killian’s face. “Snow?”

“Beer,” she says and four pairs of eyebrows raise. 

“Beer?” Emma asks 

“I drink beer!” Snow insists. Even David doesn’t look convinced. “It’s a night out! I’m having fun!” 

Emma cringes. All she can hear is ‘I’m not like the other moms. I’m a cool mom,’ echoing in her head. Even when she and Mary Margaret were roommates, her mom never drank beer. Wine, yes, sometimes even hard liquor if the situation called for it. But never beer. But then again, her mom did just have a baby. Maybe she’s trying to take it easy. 

“Okay then,” Emma says. “Make it four. She throws back her last drink. This night is already off to an interesting start.

David suggests they find a table and they manage to trudge their way through the crowd towards a small booth in the back of the room. Emma’s pretty sure that booth had been occupied a second ago. She doesn’t know whose presence led to it being vacated: the royals, the sheriffs or the pirate. What a freaking weird bunch they are tonight. 

They squeeze into the booth, she and Killian on one side and her parents on the other and then… nothing. An awkward, long, heavy silence hangs between them, the kind of silence that’s always dreaded when it comes to new social interactions. Twice Mary Margaret opens her mouth and Emma hopes she’ll say something but both times she closes it with a frown. David keeps alternating between clearing his throat and taking sips of his beer. What is going on? They’ve all spent time together before, they’ve all spoken to one another… but that was usually about a crisis… now with no crisis there’s just… quiet. She hates it.

The TV switches to a hockey game and David perks up. “Oh, this should be a good one,” he says and Emma realises those are the first words that have been spoken in five minutes. Mary Margaret nudges him in a not so discreet way and he looks at Killian and Emma. “Do, uh, do you like hockey?” he asks Killian lamely. 

Killian scratches at a spot behind his ear. “Alas, I’m not familiar with it. I don’t know the rules.” 

“Oh,” is all David says. 

Before the next silence can last too long Mary Margaret speaks. “So, Killian, how are things going with Belle?” she asks with a smile. “Have you made any progress?”

“Very little,” he sighs. “We keep getting stuck with translations. Those magic boxes can do much but they can’t decipher the spells.” 

“That’s too bad,” Snow says and Killian agrees. Another silence follows as they all nurse their drinks and half-watch the game. 

Emma startles suddenly when she feels Killian’s hook on her knee. His hand is around his glass, perfectly proper, but his hook is starting a slow climb. She kicks at his foot, trying to ignore the sparks shooting along her skin. He is not actually going to try this with her parents sitting right in front of them. He hides his smile in his drink. Her parents remain unaware and Killian grows more daring until suddenly Emma is distracted from trying to bury her fingernails into her palm by her dad speaking to Killian again.

“What games do you know?” he asks. Emma smiles a little. She can tell he’s really trying. 

“Few from this world,” Killian admits, his hook has stopped it’s journey for now but it’s still on her thigh. “There was little opportunity for sport on the sea but I fancy myself quite good at cards and dice. And of course swordplay and shooting.” 

David actually smiles. “I miss a good sword fight for the sport of it,” he says. Snow catches Emma’s eye and gives her a little grin, clearly thrilled that they’ve found something to talk about. 

“Perhaps we ought to have one someday,” Killian suggests and Emma tries not to laugh at the idea of two of the most competitive people she’s ever met sword fighting ‘for fun’. She can see the concern on her mom’s brow too. “Actually,” he says, looking over at the dart board. “I’ve quite taken to darts.”

“Really?” David perks up. “Why don’t we play?” He asks, looking excitedly at the three of them. 

Killian looks at Emma and she shrugs. “Sure, why not? I’m a little rusty though.”

“Then we’ll just have to get you loosened back up won’t we?” Killian teases with a smile that’s way too suggestive for present company. 

He’s really enjoying this isn’t he? She shakes her head at him and his brows waggle. Her dad is looking at them with a little less enjoyment but also like he doesn’t have the ground to stand on to protest anything. She remembers the way Killian had teased David when he picked her up for their first date and she wonders exactly how far he’s going to push this. Well, he wouldn’t be a pirate if he didn’t crave a little danger, would he?

They wait for the current game to end and then head over to claim the board. Emma can’t help but notice the way her dad’s eyes shift when Killian wraps an arm around her shoulders as they walk, keeping it there as David grabs the darts. He looks at them. 

“Do you want to go first?” he offers, pointedly looking at Killian’s arm. 

“I’m fine,” he waves him off. David clenches his jaw and Emma raises a brow at him. Apparently his overprotective dad mode has been initiated. And Killian’s hook is in a much more respectable place now than it was a few minutes ago. David turns to throw his first dart and Emma looks up at Killian, flashing him that same raised eyebrow. 

“Be nice,” she tells him.

“I’m always nice,” he smirks. 

“No, you’re trying to give my dad an aneurysm with your PDA.” 

“I don’t know what either of those things mean but I’m certain your father can handle his daughter being shown a bit of affection.” He’s at least keeping his voice low. 

She shrugs. “Your funeral.” 

“I can think of no better way to perish than by showering you with my attentions. Well, maybe one.” 

She rolls her eyes and he laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. Emma sinks in against his side a little, leaning her head against his shoulder and looping her arms around his waist. It’s nice. The whole sweet, boyfriend-y, little touches and cheek and forehead kisses and stuff. It’s new and she’s not used to it, but she likes it. 

David clears his throat and Emma raises her head to see him pointedly holding out the darts for one of them to take. Really? She casts a desperate glance at her mom who is trying and failing to hide her amused smile. But Mary Margaret steps forward and plucks the darts from her husband’s hand. David looks at her like she’s betrayed him. 

“I’ll go next,” she announces, actually winking at Emma as she walks by them. 

“But shouldn’t one of -”

“Nope!” Snow turns to the dart board and throws three bullseyes in a row without flinching. Killian’s arm falls slightly from Emma’s shoulder as he swallows, eyes going a little wide. 

“Woah, Mom,” Emma gapes. Snow shrugs but Emma can see her preening, a little bit of a daze working its way into her smile and she can tell that the drink might be starting to hit her already. That really just makes the bullseyes more impressive. She walks over to David who smiles proudly and kisses her. Oh, so they can show affection but she can’t? 

“My turn,” Emma says, giving Killian’s waist a squeeze before heading over to pull the darts out of the board. “Wish me luck!” 

She stands at the line and sets herself in the right posture, but before she can throw the dart, Killian’s hand is on her back, his cheek brushing her ear. “Good luck,” he whispers before pressing his lips to her neck. Her dad’s throat clears again. “You feeling alright, Dave?” Killian asks with a smirk. Emma elbows him. 

She throws the dart and it misses its mark. Although, she’s pretty sure that it has more to do with the pirate whose lips are curling against her ear than with her actual skill. 

“You need to adjust your form, Love,” he tells her, finding an excuse to wrap his hand around her hip and pull her back a little against him. David coughs again and she swears Killian’s face is going to split if he smirks any wider. “You should really get that checked out, mate,” he says. Killian actually does adjust her form, pulling her hip back and lining her shoulder up more squarely with the board. The next dart hits the bullseye. 

“He’s not wrong,” Snow says softly and Emma doesn’t look but she can just picture David seething beside her. The third dart also hits the center and she and Killian both walk over to pull them from the board. 

“You need to behave yourself,” Emma whispers to him. He only smiles. 

“We’re on a date, Swan. Is this not how people are supposed to behave on dates? It would certainly seem so if the movies your mother recommended are to be trusted.”

“You actually watched those?” she asks, surprised. 

“Aye,” he nods. “And those Henry and your father recommended as well. The Widow Lucas showed me how to use the black box in the room I rented.” He looks at her. “What?”

“I’m just surprised I guess.”

He shrugs. “They took the time to share something they enjoyed and hoped I would too. It would feel rude not to.” Emma smiles at him. It’s kind of sweet to see the effort that he’s making to befriend her family - even if he is currently trying to give her dad a heart attack. “Besides, it gives me something to talk to them about.” 

She laughs. “We could have used that when we were at the table,” she jests, nudging him with the dull side of the dart. The corner of his lips pull up salaciously. 

“I was otherwise engaged.” 

“I think you got them all,” David says impatiently and Emma hangs her head, a small laugh escaping her. They make their way back to her parents and Killian takes his turn, hitting two bullseyes. In the end, Snow destroys them all and while he’s proud of her, David still shakes his head and laughs. 

“Well,” he says, hands on his hips. “My ego is thoroughly bruised.” Snow smiles at him and pats his chest placatingly. “What do you say we try another game? Maybe pool?”

Killian agrees and she and her mom shrug. Why not? It’s better than sitting in awkward silence back at the table. 

“I must say, Your Majesty, I could have used someone with your aim back on my ship. Not only in scuffles but it’s always good to have a shark when gambling and sailors often make the mistake of underestimating a woman.”

“Men, you mean,” Snow quips and Killian laughs.

“Aye.”

“But we know better don’t we?” David chimes in. “I only needed to learn that lesson once,” he laughs, rubbing at the scar on his chin.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Killian smiles, his arm snaking its way across Emma’s shoulders again. David looks surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Did your wife not tell you?” Killian asks, then looks at Emma. “Did you not tell him?” She shakes her head. “When Emma and I first met, when we were fighting to get here from the Enchanted Forest, Emma knocked me out with a rather impressive blow to the jaw.” He rubs at his chin.

  “Aw, sorry, babe,” Emma says, rising up on her toes to kiss the spot where she hit him so long ago. He had it coming back then, but she feels a little bad about it now.

“You did?” David demands, looking at her with some kind of fatherly pride she’s still getting used to. She doesn’t fail to notice that he doesn’t seem quite as scandalized by her kissing a man in front of him as she expected. She nods. “Huh,” is all he says. 

“Like mother, like daughter, I suppose,” Killian ventures. David actually laughs.

“Yeah, I guess so!” He looks at Emma. “Good for you,” he says before casting a slightly guilty look at Killian. “No offence.” 

Killian shrugs it off. “None taken. I was… different back then.” He looks a little ashamed and David nods. 

“Yeah,” he agrees and Killian’s shoulders straighten. Emma squeezes at his waist, trying to sooth him, but she doesn’t need to when David speaks again. “But you’re not that person anymore.” 

Emma doesn’t know who is more shocked, Killian, her mother, or herself. Killian coughs, scratches behind his ear. He’s trying to play it cool but she can tell how much even this small acknowledgement from her dad of how much he’s changed affects him. 

“Right,” he says finally. “Shall we play some billiards?” David nods and Emma starts to follow them but Snow stops her. 

“Why don’t you boys play,” she suggests. “Emma and I will go get another round.”

“You don’t want to play?” Emma asks, frowning. She knows her mom has a competitive streak. Snow shrugs.

“Pool isn’t my strong suit,” she says. “And I think I’d like to go out on a victory.” David checks once more that she’s sure she doesn’t want to play and she assures him she doesn’t. Emma’s pretty sure that her dad receives the same hint that she’s getting: Snow wants him and Killian to spend some time alone together, she’s giving him his chance to talk. Emma’s weary but she’s also getting the sense that her mom is also trying to lure her into some kind of weird mother-daughter talk under the guise of getting drinks. 

They push their way through the crowd - Emma swears it’s even more packed now than it was when they first got here - and make it to the bar. It takes them a while to get the lone bartender's attention and Mary Margaret takes that time to look back at where the guys are playing pool. 

Emma looks over her shoulder. She can’t help but laugh. They both have the same cocky swagger to their mannerisms, showing off with every shot. She can’t hear what they’re saying but she’s certain there’s a little trash talk going on. It looks like Killian is winning though, if the smile on his face and the frown on David’s is anything to go by. David says something that makes Killian laugh and David raises an eyebrow as he leans over the table to take his shot. She’d never noticed that little quirk of her dad’s. 

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Snow comments and Emma turns back to her. 

“What?”

Snow nods towards the guys again. “I just think you might have gotten your taste in men from me,” she smirks. 

“What? Ew,” Emma says but then she looks over at them and oh my god. “Oh my god!” she says. “Oh, gross.”

“It’s not gross!” Snow laughs. “Your father is confident and kind and supportive - and so is Killian. And he looks at you like you hung the stars - that’s an addictive feeling, believe me, I know. But it’s not a bad thing,” she says quickly and Emma realises her panic must be evident on her face. 

Things are going well with Killian. She likes him. A lot. More than she’s liked anyone in a long time but… he traded his ship for her, his home, and to hear Snow tell her that he looks at her the way her father looks at her mother.. they’re true love and well, it’s a lot. And it’s a little scary. 

“I know it’s not,” she admits. “It’s just -”

“Intense?” Snow asks with a smile. 

Emma laughs a bit. “Yeah.” Her mom nods. “Intense is the right word. Killian is really kind of all or nothing and all in and I like it but it’s… a lot.” 

“Just give it time,” she says, reaching out to stroke her back gently. “I have to say, as your mother, it’s nice to know that you’re lo-” she cuts herself off. “That you’re cared about so much.” Snow has a small dreamy smile curling her lips and Emma asks her what else she’s thinking. She shrugs. “Your dad is like that too. All or nothing. Like I said, the apple doesn’t fall far…”

Emma raises an eyebrow, biting back her smirk. “Yeah, well, I never slept with Whale so…”

Snow bursts out laughing and actually smacks her arm and Emma starts laughing too. For a moment, it feels like before the curse broke, back when Snow wasn’t her mom but just Mary Margaret, her friend, her roommate. She misses that sometimes. She’s happy she has her parents, that she finally found them, but sometimes she misses her best friend. 

Emma manages to get the bartender’s attention and orders their drinks. “So,” Snow asks as they wait for their order. “How are things going?” She’s still got that lighthearted, slightly coy smile on her face that reminds Emma of simpler times and so she answers honestly, speaking to her friend rather than her mother. 

“It’s going… it’s going really well actually.” Snow’s smile is going to split her face. She nudges her with her elbow.

“Tell me!” 

“I dunno. He’s sweet, like really sweet. With me but also with Henry and I guess I never realised how much fun he is to be around. He’s always teasing and playing around and he’s got all these great stories and these little quirks that I didn’t know about. And he asks me about myself and he just listens - like, actually listens.” 

She looks over at where Killian’s playing pool. He catches her eye, raises a brow. “And it doesn’t hurt that he looks like a freaking Calvin Klein model. And oh my god the s-” She stops. Suddenly remembering who she’s talking to. Snow doesn’t look phased, only smirking at her a little wickedly and Emma wonders if she’s feeling the same nostalgia she is or if it’s just the one beer already hitting her. 

“You’re blushing,” she teases. 

“I am not!” Emma insists. 

“Hey, I don’t blame you. He is very hot.”

“Mom!” 

“What? I’m married. I’m not blind.” 

Emma only gapes at her in disbelief as Mary Margaret shrugs dismissively and grabs the four bottles when they’re set down in front of them. The bartender also sets down a bottle of rum giving her a smile. 

“On the house,” he says. “You being here has people on their best behaviours. I haven’t had to throw someone out all night.” 

“Is this a bribe?” Emma asks with a raised brow.

“Absolutely,” the man says and Emma laughs, accepting the bottle and the glasses but throwing in a large enough tip that she doesn’t feel like she’s committing a felony. When they reach the pool table, there’s some sort of heated argument going on.

“I’m just saying, when I win, I want to win fairly,” David says. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Killian insists. 

“What’s going on?” Emma interrupts. 

“Killian is cheating.” 

“I’m not cheating! I’m offended you would even suggest it.”

“Why do you think he’s cheating?” Emma asks, feeling protective of Killian but also fully aware that him cheating is absolutely a possibility. 

“Because five minutes ago he was sinking everything and then I missed a few in a row and suddenly he hasn’t managed to sink a single ball.” 

Emma bites back her laugh. “You think he’s cheating to let you win?” Emma looks at Killian, sees the smirk on his face. Oh my god, he’s cheating to let David win. 

“Emma,” David says. “Please tell your boyfriend that I can win on my own, thank you very much, and that this isn’t going to earn him brownie points with your dad.” 

Killian laughs but he reaches out and grabs hold of her hand, squeezing it when her dad refers to him casually as her boyfriend. She brings his hand up to her lips and presses them against his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise while her father rolls his. She wonders at his surprise. Maybe she’s not the best at showing affection. Maybe she should work on that. 

She steps forward into his embrace and he wraps his hooked arm around her as he reaches for his cue that’s leaning against the table. She presses herself against him and puts her hand on his chest. There’s still that bit of surprise on his face but his smile tells her it’s the good kind. 

“Killian,” she says seriously, tilting her head up to look at him. 

“Yes, Love?” 

“Stop letting my dad win,” she smiles. He laughs, nods, but leans down quickly to kiss her, brief enough that David can’t really complain. It doesn’t stop him from frowning though. 

“Alright then, Dave,” Killian says when Emma walks back over to her lean against the wall with her mom. “Let’s have a real game shall we?”

The game gets pretty close, by the end it comes down to David having only the eight ball left and Killian having one of his own to sink. David misses the shot and they debate the rules as to whether Killian wins by default or if they keep playing. David insists that he’s lost and that that’s better for Killian since he’d still have two balls to sink to win. Killian insists that he loves a challenge and wants them to continue. 

Snow rolls her eyes and shoots Emma a knowing look. Shit, they really are alike. She’s trying not to be grossed out by that. In the end, Killian sinks both his ball and the eight and wins the game, but in a way that David can respect and he offers him his hand to shake, insisting that they’ll have to have a rematch sometime. Killian’s smile at the offer and the way his cheeks go a little red warm her heart.

“How did you get so good at this?” David asks. “They didn’t have this game in the Enchanted Forest. Do you and Emma play a lot when you come here?”

Killian shoots her a smirk and she glares at him. “No, we usually enjoy ourselves in other ways when we spend an evening together.” He’s really pushing it, she thinks. But as far as her dad knows they hang out here on their nights together so hopefully he thinks that Killian just means they play other games, and not that Killian spends most of his nights with his head between her legs, playing in a whole different way. 

“It was Belle, actually,” he adds before David or Snow can put any pieces together. “She’s quite the shark and sometimes we play to blow off steam when the research gets to be too much. She taught me a trick or two. There are quite a few games she’s taught me that we didn’t have in our realm. I must say this world has a certain advantage when it comes to entertainment.” 

“Yeah,” Snow says. “I have to say I’d miss reality TV and the Food Network if we ever went back.” 

“And video games,” David adds. “And ESPN.” 

“Look, the Enchanted Forest lost me at no indoor plumbing,” Emma chimes in and there’s a shared laugh of agreement. 

“I do miss some things,” Snow admits. “Like royal balls. There’s nothing here quite like the dances we used to have at the castle.” 

“I miss riding horses,” David says. “Cars are great, but you can’t bond with a car. What about you, Hook? Do you miss anything from your old life?” Emma tenses, almost worried about his answer. He gave up his home for her, she reminds herself. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll never regret it, that he’ll never resent her for it. 

“Can’t say that I do,” he shakes his head, reaching for her as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking. He probably does. “Particularly now that I have my ship back. I missed the sea.” He looks at David pointedly then, his fingers tightening on her hip and she knows that the message is for her too. “But I have no plans of leaving. I’ve found a call that’s stronger than hers.” He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and she tenses a little, a natural reaction to such an overt admission of feelings, but then lets out the breath she’s holding and smiles at him, lets herself be happy about it. She catches David’s nod of approval. Mary Margaret’s practically swooning. 

“I do miss the music, though,” he adds after a moment. “There’s something about the sound of a crew singing under the hot sun while they work, or late at night under the stars that nothing here has managed to live up to. The music in this realm… leaves something to be desired.” Emma bites back her smile, remembering his distaste for most, if not all of the music Henry insists on playing loudly whenever he’s on the Jolly Roger with Killian. 

“Although, I will admit that some of the music Emma has shown me is more... palatable.” Emma smirks as David and Snow ask what music he means.

“I showed him classic rock,” she tells them. “I thought with the whole leather and eyeliner and earrings it might be up his alley.” She was honestly shocked when he’d liked it. She’d been showing him a bunch of different genres and he’d made faces at nearly all of them, all but folk - which she expected - and classic rock - which she had not.

David’s eyes go wide but not in shock, in excitement. “And you liked it?” he demands. 

“Aye,” Killian answers. “They have melodies that encourage singing along and that feel like they should be sung in groups. It feels nostalgic.” Emma can’t quite make the connection between something like Queen or Led Zeppelin and sea shanties out on the water, but she’s never been there so she assumes it’s more of a feeling thing than a technical thing.

“I love classic rock! I was born in - well, David Nolan was born in - the eighties! I grew up listening to that stuff! At least, I have memories of growing up listening to it, of my mom playing records for me. It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it,” Killian laughs. 

“Don’t they have a jukebox here?” David exclaims, scanning the bar. He clearly spots one because he grabs a very confused Killian’s arm and drags him across the room. Emma looks at her mom who seems equally as surprised before she bursts out laughing. Her dad is acting like a little kid - or like a nerdy dad - and poor Killian is apparently going to be subjected to a hell of a musical education. 

Emma grabs the bottle of rum and the glasses and holds them up before she and Mary Margaret head off after the guys. “I think we’re gonna need this,” she jokes. Snow only nods, smiling. 

When they reach their significant others, Emma is surprised to find them in a heated conversation, debating the merits of AC/DC versus Aerosmith. Emma can’t even keep track of who prefers who as they speak over one another and take turns - sorta, they kinda push and shove really - filling the jukebox and picking songs. 

“Swan,” Killian turns to her for the first time in nearly ten minutes and she looks at him with an arched brow. “Do you have any of those blasted quarter-dollars? My dubloons won’t fit in the bloody machine.” 

Emma laughs. “They’re just called quarters and no, I don’t. But I have rum,” she offers as a substitute. 

“Aye,” Killian says. “That will help too. Especially if your father is going to continue to insist on playing REO Speedwagon.” 

“Hey!” David cries. 

Emma and her mom try and coax the guys over to the table nearby but neither of them are willing to step away from the jukebox, both convinced that someone else will choose a terrible song. They also can’t stop suggesting songs and the way David keeps excitedly shouting ‘oh man, yeah I love that one’, and Killian keeps referring to songs as ‘bloody brilliant’ has her pretty sure that she and Mary Margaret have lost them for the night. 

So, she fills her and her mom’s glasses and they head to the table that is literally less than six feet away, leaving the bottle and the two other glasses for David and Killian. The women sip their drinks, watching in amazement as the two grown men continue speaking so fast she can’t keep up with what they’re saying and bouncing on the balls of their feet. 

Emma loses track of what happens really after that, David and Killian become a bit of an entertaining blur, both of them laughing and talking and drinking rum - they’re really drinking quite a bit, she realises at one point - and singing along. That’s right. The two of them are belting out classic rock songs, drawing annoyed and weary looks from everyone else in the room. But what can they do? It’s the king/sheriff and a freaking pirate. Who's going to stand up to that?

“At least they’re getting along,” Snow comments, wincing as David and Killian butcher a song she can’t recognize - probably because they have the words wrong. 

“Of all the things that I thought might bring them together, I never thought it would be this.” Emma shakes her head. “Do you really think -” she starts but then feels silly for asking. Snow gives her an encouraging look. “Do you think dad likes him?” 

It shouldn’t matter. She’s a grown woman and she can be with whoever she wants to be with. She’s never needed anybody's permission or approval and she doesn’t need it now. But just because she doesn’t need it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want it. 

“I think,” Mary Margaret starts, choosing her words carefully. “I think that were it any other situation, if Killian wasn’t the man dating his daughter, he and your father might be best friends. I think he does like him, but he’s trying not to like him too much because he’s stubborn and overprotective and he feels like he needs to be on your side.”

“There aren’t any sides,” Emma says. “We’re together. We make a good team.”

“I see that. And your dad is starting too also. You just need to give him some time. But I think that they’re making some serious strides if tonight is anything to go by.” She winces again as David fails to hit a particularly high note that should be reserved for only Freddy Mercury. But he laughs as Killian pours him another drink, clinking his glass against the other man’s. 

“And you?” Emma asks hesitantly. “Do you like him?” She’s never thought to ask. Her dad has always made his opinion clear. Mary Margaret is different though. She plays things closer to the chest. She’s never really worried about her opinion of Killian until now, now that she realises she doesn’t know what it is. 

Snow smiles. “I do,” she says, placing her hand over Emma’s reassuringly. “I didn’t always, but even when we first met him I could tell there was something going on between you. It scared me back then because of who he was. But he’s changed, become someone better, someone who might actually deserve you.” Emma opens her mouth to protest, to defend Killian but her mom stops her. “I just mean that I have trouble believing that anyone deserves you. But the way he looks at you, and the way he supports you and encourages you. Yeah, I like him.” 

Emma smiles, looking down to hide the effect of her mom’s words, which she’s sure are written all over her face. “Good.”

"Emma," Killian says, suddenly right beside her. She turns to find him looking down at her, hand out and a slightly dazed, happy smile on his lips. "Dance with me." His eyes are heavy-lidded and there's the slightest sway to his stance. She bites her lip. He's drunk. 

She notices David there too now, having more trouble standing upright than Killian is, but still pulling Mary Margaret to her feet. "It's no royal ball," he says. "But will it do for now?"

She doesn’t hear what her mom answers. She’s too distracted by the arched eyebrow and upturned lip that’s just shy of Killian’s usual swagger, slightly softened by his current state. But he looks so sweet and she remembers dancing with him at the ball in the Enchanted Forest and thinks it might be nice to do it again without the threat of never being born looming over her.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a goofy grin, pulling her up and wrapping his arm around her, holding his hook out for her to take hold of. Oh right, he waltzes, she nearly laughs. He leads her to the little space between the seats and the jukebox, they’re in their own little corner here, away from the rest of the crowded bar, some eighties balad blasting through the speakers. Emma swears she sees David shoot him a thumbs up over Mary Margaret’s shoulder. 

She knows it’s probably not proper dancing form but she lets her fingers slide from his shoulder up to the nape of his neck so she can play with the ends of his hair. He leans into her touch. She’s impressed when he actually attempts to lead them through the steps she can barely remember. He’s honestly not too bad at it, less graceful than he’d been last time but, considering the nearly empty bottle of rum, she gives him credit for standing right now. 

He stumbles over his own feet eventually and chuckles softly, lightheartedly, and it’s nice to hear. “I fear I might not be quite up to the task at the moment,” he says, shaking his head. She laughs with him. 

“That’s okay,” she tells him, pulling his hook around her so it can join his hand at her back. She slides her other hand up around his neck. “Why don’t I teach you how we dance here this time?” She steps into him, pressing her chest to his, and starts to sway. 

His arms tighten, pulling her in closer. “So many wonderful things about this realm,” he starts, laying his forehead against hers. “But this might be my favorite yet.” She laughs a little, the slightly mumbled way his words come out betraying him again. She’ll tease him tomorrow. But right now he’s soft and warm and happy and he smells so nice, so she lays her head on his shoulder and dances with him in a dingy bar with her parents right next to her. It should be weird. But it’s not. It feels right. Probably because it’s him. No, definitely because it’s him. 

Killian’s hand moves over her back, playing with her hair as he turns his head to nuzzle against the back of her neck. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t even mean anything by it when his fingers trail down her spine and settle on her backside. She’s not surprised, she’s well aware that he’s a fan of that part of her, and he’s still swaying with her gently. She is surprised that her dad isn’t causing a scene over it though. 

She peeks over Killian’s shoulder and really wishes she hadn’t. Her dad isn’t saying anything because he didn’t notice, because he’s too busy making out with her mom, who is giggling and playfully swatting at his wandering hands. Oh god. She’s gonna be sick. 

She makes a sound and Killian’s head pops up, follows her gaze behind him and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. She glares at him. 

“I cannot believe you got my dad drunk,” she hisses. 

“I did not get your father drunk! He got me drunk!” Emma rolls her eyes and he smiles even wider. “I think I’m winning him over,” he winks. “And I think he would make a good drinking buddy.” Emma pulls back to look at him, her brows shooting up to her hairline. 

“Where did you even learn that term?” 

He just smiles. His hand gives her ass a squeeze - definitely intentional this time - as he pulls her in closer, pressing her hips to his as he runs his nose and then his lips along her jaw. Her heart rate picks up, it’s automatic at this point, her skin prickling everywhere it’s touching his, but she tilts her head away, enjoying the very put-out and slightly confused expression on his face. 

“I am not making out with you next to my parents.” She looks over at them again, grimaces. “Even if they seem to have no problem making out in front of their daughter.” 

Killian takes her chin between his thumb and finger, drawing her eyes back to his as he leans in, his lips a breath away from hers as he speaks, that wicked grin coming back. “Actually, Swan, I had quite a bit more in mind…” he trails off. Emma swallows.

“Then maybe it’s time we get out of here,” she suggests. And he nods so enthusiastically it makes her laugh. 

“That’s a brilliant idea,” he tells her. “I always said you were brilliant.” 

She turns them so that she can look over at her mom without having to leave his arms because she really doesn’t want to at the moment - and maybe she wants to save him the awkwardness of hiding the growing hardness she can feel against her stomach. Thankfully, her parents have stopped making out and are now just gazing dreamily into each other's eyes. That might be worse, really. 

“I think we should get these two home,” she says and Snow looks over at her, confused at first but then nods, laughing as she takes in the state of their dates. 

“Goodnight, Lady Snow,” Killian says. “Until next time, mate,” he says to David. Emma holds her breath but to her surprise, David smiles, reaching out to give Killian one of those weird, bro-ey handshakes where they just kinda clasp hands like they’re going to arm wrestle. David turns to Mary Margaret then. 

“One more song,” he insists. “I picked the next one.” 

“Okay, one more song,” she agrees, patting his cheek. 

“Goodnight, Mom. ‘Night, Dad,” she says as she turns in Killian’s embrace to head out. He practically presses himself against the back of her as he follows. 

“Night, sweetheart,” David says. “This was fun,” he adds - slurs. 

Emma smiles. “Yeah, it was.” She waves goodbye to her mom who gives her one of those touched, happy smiles and then she leads Killian out of the bar. 

His hand is on her waist the whole way through the crowd, fingers dancing along the edge of her shirt, sneaking under it, hot against her skin. His breath is on her neck and every few steps he leans down to brush his lips against it too. 

They’ve barely made it outside before he’s pulling her out of the reach of the lone porch light above the door and pressing her against the wall. His lips fall over hers and his hand slips under her shirt, flattening against her stomach and sliding higher. Emma groans into his mouth, reaching up to grab hold of his hair, pulling him closer. His hips press against hers, pinning her to the wall as his hand finds her breast. 

Emma gasps, throwing her head back and he takes the opportunity to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. She needs to get him back to his ship now. But she also doesn’t have it in her to pull away, not when his hips are rolling against hers in a dirty grind and his fingers are shoving her bra out of the way. 

She hikes her leg over his hip and he groans this time, grabbing hold of her thigh with his hook and keeping her there, the blunt curve of it digging into her ass. His mouth finds hers again, open and heady as he drags his tongue over hers, his breathing ragged. Her hands reach down to slip into his back pockets, pulling him harder against her and holy shit she’s definitely debating letting him fuck her against this wall when suddenly -

“Hey! Hands where I can see them, Hook!” 

Her father’s voice is like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her. Killian freezes for a moment but doesn’t pull back. His lips curl against hers, his laugh puffing against her skin as he removes his hand from under her shirt and holds it up and out over his head.

“Hand and hook!” David calls again and Killian drops her leg to hold his other arm up as well. He kisses her again though and it’s so ridiculous, him standing there with his arms in the air while his lips and body are pressed to hers, her father threatening him from twenty feet away. She feels like a teenager and it should annoy her but it doesn’t, it makes her laugh. She never got this. She’s not saying she wants this kind of thing to happen all the time but she supposes there are still opportunities for her to get those childhood memories she missed out on. 

“Good man,” David says before letting himself be dragged away by Snow. His own hands start to trail a little too low on her mom’s back and Emma shouts at him. 

“Hands where I can see them, Dad!” David’s hands shoot straight up, like a perp, and she laughs. This whole thing, this whole night, has been ridiculous. 

She slides her hands up across Killian’s back, wraps her arms around him and he kisses her once more, softer this time. “Thank you,” she says when he pulls back, tilting her head up to press her lips to his cheek. He bites his lip, smiling.

“Hmm. Well, perhaps some gratitude is in order…”

“You’ve used that line before,” she teases him. 

He sighs. “Swan, your father poured an entire bottle of rum into me, forgive me if I resort to tried and true lines I know will work.” 

“Pretty cocky,” she tells him, arching a brow and then regretting it immediately when she realises the opening she just gave him - well, not really regretting it. 

He ruts his hips against hers and her breath hitches. “Oh, you have no idea.” 

“Actually,” she answers, her voice catching a little. “I have a very good idea. So how about you take me home, sailor?” 

“You’re full of good ideas,” he says, leaning in.

“Even date night with my parents?” she jokes and he halts before his lips touch hers, huffing out a laugh. 

“Aye, even date night with your parents.” He kisses her softly and smiles sweetly at her. “It wasn’t so bad. I think your father might even be beginning to approve of me.” His grin turns sinful then and his fingers come up to brush over her bottom lip, continuing a trail down her chin to her neck and chest and stomach. 

“Although right now,” he starts, brow ticking up at the way her stomach flutters under his touch and her back arches slightly. “I think I’d like to take you back to my ship and do a few things to you that he definitely would not approve of.” 

#cs fanfic #cs one shot #cs fluff #snowing #snowing fluff #captain swan #smut adjacent #so goddamn fluffy

[velshie]

Kingfield angst drabble

David never thought that sitting on the bed of a dead man would ever be something he would deal with but here he was. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he went through pictures that this fucking geek took of them together and actually got them developed. Who does that nowadays anyway?

“It’s something physical to hold on to. It’s like holding an actual memory at your fingertips instead of a phone! Besides, I’ve always been better with cameras than phones anyway.” He could still freshly remember that memory of when Dwight gave David pictures of them for their one year anniversary. They were laughing, eyes bright with happiness and joy, cuddling in a blanket together during a particularly cold night during their groups annual June camping trip.

David felt his eyes water, he jammed his eyes closed. He refused to cry, it was a happy memory and he will not let his grief tarnish it. He packed up some of Dwight clothes away, trying his best not to let himself keep things that will make it harder for him to accept that he’s gone and move on. He wasn’t proud to admit that this wasn’t the first time he had tried to do this. He had tried for months, but he just...Couldn’t do it. It was easier now that his clothes no longer held his smell, but putting away his favorite shirt into the box made him want to give up then and there but he toughed it out as heart-shattering as it was. David had to remind himself that this was for him. To move on and this wasn’t a betrayal and that Dwight would have wanted this. He would want him to move on and smile again. There were a couple of things that were harder, that held some of the best memories before they were married. Like the stuffed bear that he won for him during their third date to the carnival, his husbands' camera that Dwight had saved up for months while working in that god awful pizza place and treated it like his baby. And also his photos with that camera….They were right he supposed. A picture is worth a thousand words.

And his wedding ring from when they got married two years ago.

His therapist said it would be best to keep it hidden but David loved Dwight with his heart and soul and keeping it locked in a drawer or tossed away felt like he was tossing Dwight away and he just...Couldn’t do it. So he kept it on a necklace close to his heart where his husband will always be.

He felt a tear run down his face as he aggressively wiped it away, but soon another tear, and another, then suddenly the whole flood gates were open and he couldn’t keep tears at bay and he sat on their shared bed and bawled like a two-year-old who lost his mum.

Except he lost his soulmate and he was never coming back.

And God did he miss him more than anything.

It was his fault. He lost his husband because he asked him to detour from work to get him some beer from the shop and his husband being the sweet soul that he was had gone ahead and went out of his way to grab some. He didn’t calculate that he would walk in during a robbery and startle the thief with the gun. Now he’s a widower after finally marrying the love of life two years ago.

Fuck. Dwight of all people?

His mum had told him that ‘God always took the good ones.’ As she grieved with him, holding him in her arms like she did when he was only a child. It didn’t make him feel better, in fact, it made him feel worse. Bitter if anything because what kind of god would take such a loving man when David needed him most?

David was knocked out of his thoughts when he heard a knock on the door. David had to debate for a minute, not ready yet to talk to anyone at the moment. Not ready to hear any more fucking condolences or to see their pity which they could shove up their-

He shook his head of the nasty, angry thoughts. He was able to control his anger with Dwight anchoring him down and a therapist. He would not disappoint his memory by ruining all that progress because he’s not there. He got up and gave himself a second to prepare before he walked downstairs and answered the door. He was expecting a lot of things, but he was not expecting Frank and his band of misfits to be there and looking almost as broken as he did.

“Can...Can we come in?” Susie’s voice cracked, looking like she was ready to burst into tears any second and David couldn’t help but usher them in. When they first met “The Legion.” As they called themselves, it was a bit of a rocky start as they tried to intimidate the couple as they moved in wanting them to know they were on their territory. Didn’t go so well when David backhanded Frank so hard he swore the kid saw stars when he made a derogatory remark towards Dwight. Instead of telling them to fuck right off like David wanted too, he swore that Dwight had lost his goddamn mind when he invited them in for food and to keep warm.

Since then, Susie absolutely adored Dwight and those two got on like a house on fire. She even started to call him dad after 6 months of knowing them and David would even catch her in the house with Dwight as she showed him her own photos that she had taken. Julie and Frank seemed to get along better with David, in awe of his strength and strange similarity to them personality wise but still loved Dwight for his advice and soothing personality. They all took it hard but David was confident to say that Frank was probably the one who took it the hardest even though he had never admitted it, but he never had too, you could see it in his posture, usually Frank stood so tall but now he was slouched. Mischievous, sparkling brown eyes were almost as dull as David's own green ones. David couldn’t but think that Frank deserved to be here, they all did, but Frank most of all. Dwight and David hadn’t adopted Frank. Frank had come to adopt them as his unofficial parents and had only asked days before Dwight's death to ask to officially adopt him. David gave a small but sad smile when he saw Frank looking at a picture of Dwight. David wasn’t sure when Dwight was happier. During the wedding day or when Frank asked to be their son.

It was silent but David felt better now that the teens were here. Someone else felt his pain and wanted to be close and David couldn’t deny that. He took a breath, He knows they wouldn’t take this well but he thinks they had the right as well.

“I’m going through his things right now. I wanted you guys to go through it before I threw some of them away.” All eyes were on him but surprisingly, Julie was the one who was the most vocal.

“Are...You fucking kidding? You’re throwing his things out!?” She got up and squared up to him, her body language aggressive and her eyes held so much anger, sadness, and betrayal. “This was your husband and you're going to throw away his things like they’re nothing? What you think he was trash too!?”

That hurt. That hurt really deep but David just let her pour out her feelings. Pour out all the anger and grief and whatever is plaguing her that came from the death of his husband.

“He wouldn’t have….He...He wouldn’t do that to you.” Her breath hitches turned to sobs and then just stood there and cried. Tough, nail hard Julie was crying. She just walked into his arms and cried on his chest. He felt his heart clench and his mouth wobble as he himself tried to hold it in. He placed his hand on the back of her head for comfort only making her cry harder and louder. Susie was covering her face with her hands as she sat on the couch and the two boys put their hood up to hide their faces.

They were all broken and Dwight left a hole in everyone’s heart that wasn’t ever going to go.

—-

It took a while for everyone to calm down but everyone felt that drain. The bone-deep tiredness that came from a good cry. They stayed and planned to stay the night as they ordered pizza. David looked like he was going to cry when he saw the logo of ‘PizzaWhat’ in big, bold, red letters.

“Not sure if ya guys knew…” He started, feeling everyone’s eyes on him but his eyes were still settled on the pizza box. “Dwight used ta manage the PizzaWhat up until ‘e met me. Said it was the worst job ‘e ever worked but I always said the one ‘e was currently workin’ it was probably ‘is worst.” They all just looked at the box. Not very hungry already but knowing that it was connected to Dwight in some way made everything worse.

“Damnit David, don’t ruin my favorite pizza place.” Joey joked, but it was as weak as they all felt but they still were able to crack a smile. As small as it was, it was definitely still a victory.

David just snorted before he replied. “Yeah, this place treated ‘im like gold compared to this place that ‘e works-Worked. He worked at.” They all winced as David corrected himself. He heard a sniffle coming from the couch but he couldn’t tell if it was Susie or Julie. He couldn’t really care though, he’ll let them cry for as long as they need.

“You should ‘ave heard the voicemail ‘his piece o’ shit boss left. ‘M still debating on whether or no’ I should punch ‘is fuckin’ lights out.” They all looked at him intensely, intrigued about what he was talking about but didn’t say anything. “Dwight never complained about ‘is work, but I knew they were workin’ ‘im like a dog. I didn’ know the extent of ‘ow much they abused ‘im though.” He shouldn’t be telling them this. They were already very protective of their little cut and paste misfit family that they made and they were petty when you messed with any of them. But now with one gone and all of them grieving, David knew this could send them in a direction he doesn’t want them to go down. So why was he running his mouth?

“Do you still have the voicemail?” Joey asked, which made David look up. His voice was calming and pleasant but the look in his eye promised something much more sinister. David nodded, he was angry at the way Dwight was treated and he knew these kids would burn the whole fucking world down if they messed with the family. David knew Dwight would be so angry and mortified that he was going to show them but he wanted to share his anger.

“You gotta promise me though,” They wouldn’t keep it. He knows he wouldn’t if he heard this but at least he could say he tried. Makes him feel a bit better, even though he knew it’s selfish and such a bad idea. “You gotta promise me ya ain’ gonna get in trouble. Ya ain’t gonna do anythin’.” They all promised but it was half-hearted. Susie did a poor job of hiding her crossed fingers behind her back but in all honesty, David kinda hoped they would do something. Maybe take that fat cat piece of shit and-

He let out a breath as he cut those thoughts off. He didn’t want anything happening to these kids. He didn’t want them to have blood on their hands.

God Dwight, we all need you now more than ever.

He got up and went to the answering machine. Dwight was a little old fashioned and always believed they should have a house phone for work and a cell phone for friends and family. David hesitates over the replay button, getting second thoughts about doing it.

“Let us hear the messages David,” Frank started, his voice holding no emotion. “Please.” Ah, his voice cracked there. How could he say no to a rare please from Frank?

So he played it.

“Dwight, you’re late! It better be because you’re grabbing my coffee because I swear to god if it isn’t I’ll fire you on the spot. Get here and make it fast.” It ended and a fresh wave of uncontrollable anger coursed through him. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time and he was itching for a brawl.

When he looked up, the cold rage that settled on all their faces made him feel better. He gave a feral, bitter smile.

“You think that was bad? Just ya wait.” He said as he played the second message.

“It’s been a whole day, where the fuck were you? With some extra time in the office, I would have forgiven you for being late but this is unacceptable! I knew you were always useless but I thought at least you're on time. What a fucking joke you are. Don’t bother coming in tomorrow, I’ll make sure you're blacklisted from any firm that you want to assist in. Good luck with getting a job in the future, especially with no reference. Happy job hunting.” It was almost worse hearing it a second time. He was surprised when Frank was next to him, looking him dead in the eye as his anger festered. Was this what he looked when he was angry? When he wanted a fight?

“I think we might have to break that promise,” Frank looked at the voicemail machine and David was sure that poor piece of tech was going to explode. “Because this doesn’t go unpunished.”

David knew he should feel some kind of chill but he didn’t. He felt nothing but a small bloom of satisfaction that he knew he would come to regret later. David connected their foreheads together and looked Frank in the eye.

“Do what you need to do and don’t get caught.” There was a twisted smile that made a home on Frank's face.

“Don’t worry. We won’t.” He moved and they all moved towards the door like we’re one entity. Susie grabbed their masks from her bag and handed it to all of them.

“Will get revenge for him, dad. To all those that wronged him, we’ll get him.” They all put their masks on moved through the door before Frank stopped and turned, the mask sending a chill down David’s spine.

“And the man who murdered him. Will give you that privilege to reap what he sowed.” David knew he should be afraid. This wasn’t what Dwight would want, this was exactly what he was trying to get the group away from and David was here encouraging them. God, Dwight would be so disappointed.

“You leave that one to me. We’ll find ‘im and make ‘im suffer.” Frank nodded, before walking up and giving him a quick but strong hug.

“He messed with the wrong family.” David nodded and smirked. He was angry and no fucking therapist was going to help him this time.

“We’ll track ‘im down and make sure ‘e wishes that ‘e was never born. I promise you’ll ‘ear ‘im scream.” Frank laughed and it was the most emotion he has heard from him since the news. David could help but feel a rush as they shared the same thoughts.

“Of course dad, welcome to the Legion.”

#I’m a little nervous posting this since I’m very out of my element #I don’t usually write angst unhappy endings or in David’s point of view so I’m not sure how I did lol #I’m hoping it was at least a good attempt whether it was successful or not. #This was one that was already written a while ago. I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to post it on here lol. #Also this isn’t for the kingfield anniversary. That one is still in progress even though I’m so hella late with it #dead by daylight #dbd #dwight fairfield #david king #kingfield #david x dwight #dwight x david #dwight dbd #david dbd #Velshie writing

[mizmahlia]

Get to know me uncomfortably well!

I was tagged by my sis @donaldpiercesbae . Thanks, my dear. I loved your answers!! 

1. What’s your middle name?

It rhymes with ‘bae’.

2. How old are you?

Older than a lot of folks around here, I reckon. (Mid-thirties.)

3. When is your birthday?

January the 26th

4. What’s your zodiac sign?

Aquarius. I’m stubborn, rebellious, and quirky.

5. What’s your favourite colour?

Clover green.

6. What’s your lucky number?

I don’t have one- I’ve never been superstitious in that capacity.

7. Do you have any pets?

I have a cat who’s a bit of an asshole named Oliver, who I love to pieces. And three days from now, I’ll be picking up a puppy. It’ll be almost six months to the day I suddenly lost my Milo.

8. Where are you from?

The United States of Dysfunction

9. How tall are you?

5’6” / 1.68 m

10. What shoe size are you?

I’m an 8.5 / 41-42

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

Uh… it’s more than two dozen, but less than three dozen, I think.

12. What was your last dream about?

I don’t remember my dreams, unfortunately.

13. What talents do you have?

Procrastination, I can talk to pretty much anyone, I can play video games longer than is healthy, and I can sorta write.

14. Are you psychic in any way?

Not in the slightest and I am totally okay with that.

15. Favourite song?

None of Your Business by Salt N Pepa, Alone Together by Fall Out Boy, Broken by Lifehouse, Creep by Clint Mansell/Eliot Sumner

16. Favourite movie?

I can’t think of just one at the moment; but if it’s got Batman (or his friends/family) in it, it’s safe to say it’s on my list.

17. Who would be your ideal partner?

Someone I’m comfortable sharing my nerdy hobbies with, who can communicate, and who isn’t content with life as-is. (That means he wants to explore, try new things, strives to be a better person than he was yesterday, etc) To be cheesy, I want a partner in crime.

18. Do you want children?

Yes, but being 35 and having been single for 5+ years, I’m scared I’m running out of time.

19. Do you want a church wedding?

As someone who’s been married (and sadly, is divorced), I’ll be the first to tell you the venue isn’t nearly as important as people like to make you think it is. If I do it again, I’ll probably not do so in a church.

20. Are you religious?

No, but I consider myself a Christian.

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

I’ve been there as a visitor many times, but as a patient, thankfully I’ve only ever been to the emergency room.

22. Have you ever gotten in trouble with the law?

Nope! But I used to get rides home after cross country practices in the back of my friend’s mom’s police car.

23. Have you met any celebrities?

Yep! Karen Gillan, Richard Speight Jr, Sebastian Roche, Hugh Grant, Johan Santana (MLB pitcher), EJ Henderson (NFL player) 

24. Baths or showers?

I love me a hot bath, but it’s usually a shower.

25. What colour of socks are you wearing?

I’m barefoot whenever possible, like right now.

26. Have you ever been famous?

LOL nope

27. What type of music do you like?

Just about anything!

28. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

Only in my bathtub

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

One. I have a neck problem, so I have a specific pillow I need to sleep with.

31. What position do you sleep in?

Curled up on my side.

32. How big is your house?

Three bedrooms, two floors, and an awesome living room.

33. What do you typically have for breakfast?

Coffee and a granola or protein bar.

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

Several, and I honestly don’t see how/why it’s fun,.

35. Have you ever tried archery?

Yes, but I’m certainly no Roy Harper.

36. Favourite clean word?

Shenanigans

37. Favourite swear word?

Fuck and all of its derivatives

38. What’s the longest you’ve gone without sleeping?

30 hours, I think? 0/10, do not recommend.

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

Nope, and I’m okay with that. I find it a little creepy.

41. Are you a good liar?

Better than I have a right to be, and it bothers me.

42. Are you a good judge of character?

I think so, but then again, based on past experiences, I’m utterly terrible.

43. Can you do any other accents than your own?

I can do the stereotypical Minnesota one, though a lot of us don’t talk that way. But I’m terrible at trying to imitate accents, so no.

44. Do you have a strong accent?

I’ve been told by quite a few people I don’t sound like I’m from Minnesota. Make of that what you will. :)

45. What’s your favourite accent?

Irish, by far. I love that accent so much.

46. What is your personality type?

I don’t have a favorite type, but I generally prefer those who aren’t judgmental, arrogant assholes.

47. What’s your most expensive piece of clothing?

My wedding dress. It’s ludicrous how much they cost, and you wear it once.

48. Can you curl your tongue?

I certainly can!

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

A pierced innie.

50. Left of right handed?

Right-handed

51. Are you scared of spiders?

Is water wet?

52. Favourite food?

Peanut butter

53. Favourite foreign food?

Authentic Italian, not like the crap they call Italian here.

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

I’m somewhere in between. I’m clean, but somewhat disorganized.

55. Most used phrase?

“What the hell?”

56. Most used word?

“Damnit.”

57. How long does it take you to get ready?

Depends on the occasion- for more important things or when I want to go through all my steps, about an hour and fifteen minutes because I have long, thick hair. For class every day, about 15 minutes.

58. Do you have much of an ego?

I seriously hope not, but I’m not the best judge of that.

59. Do you suck or bite lollipops?

Neither because I don’t like lollipops.

60. Do you talk to yourself?

All the freakin’ time.

61. Do you sing to yourself?

In my car every day!

62. Are you a good singer?

Nope, but since I’m the only one who hears it, that’s okay!

63. Biggest fear?

Losing my parents or being alone for the rest of my life.

64. Are you a gossip?

I try not to be because gossip never helps anything or anyone.

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

L.A. Confidential.

66. Do you like long or short hair?

I like short hair, but I love long hair.  

67. Can you name all 50 states in America?

I should hope so, since I live in the country.

68. Favourite school subject?

A tie between anatomy and microbiology.

69. Extrovert or introvert?

Introvert with some extroverted qualities.

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

Nope!

71. What makes you nervous?

Dentist appointments, waiting around at the starting line of a race I’ve never run before, flying.

72. Are you scared of the dark?

If it’s somewhere unfamiliar, sort of. Otherwise, no.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Depends on the mistake and the person.

74. Are you ticklish?

Everywhere and I absolutely hate it.

75. Have you ever started a rumour?

Not that I know of, no.

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

Several times and every time, I’ve hated it. I’m more comfortable as a worker bee, not the queen of the hive.

77. Have you ever drank underage?

LOL yes. My hometown had little to do other than that.

78. Have you ever done drugs?

Nothing that wasn’t prescribed. I’ve never been curious enough to try any.

79. Who was your first real crush?

A boy named Davey (his name is David) when I was a kid. He’s a year younger than me and loved Batman, riding bikes, and wanted to be a Navy fighter pilot. He had these gorgeous blue eyes and almost black hair.

80. How many piercings do you have?

Three, but that will likely increase at some time.

81. Can you roll your R’s?

I should hope so; I studied Spanish for almost a decade.

82. How fast can you type?

According to a typing test I just took: 83 words/minute.

83. How fast can you run?

LOL not fast. Right now, I’d be lucky to break 9:30/mile.

84. What colour is your hair?

Medium brown with some grown-out balayage.

85. What colour are your eyes?

Like about 2% of the population, they’re green.

86. What are you allergic to?

Stupidity.

I recently developed an allergy to something, but I’m still trying to figure out what. I blame a trip to the state of Kansas.

87. Do you keep a journal?

I don’t, but I should. It really helped me work things out when I didn’t want to talk to someone.

88. What do your parents do?

They both still work, though I wish they would/could retire.

89. Do you like your age?

For the most part, yeah. I hated myself in my 20’s, but my 30’s have been so much better.

90. What makes you angry?

Intolerance, rude behavior, the Green Bay Packers, and the New York Yankees.

91. Do you like your own name?

Of course! It’s not a super common name.

92. Have you already thought about baby names? And if so, what are they?

I admit I have, but I’m not gonna share them.

93. Do you want a boy or girl for a child?

I’d like a healthy kid, plain and simple. Gender doesn’t matter.

94. What are your strengths?

I’m stubborn, persistent, and empathetic.

95. What are your weaknesses?

I’m stubborn, persistent, and empathetic.

96. How did you get your name?

A family friend’s first name is Molly and I got my aunt’s middle name.

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

Not that I know of or care.

98. Do you have any scars?

Physical or emotional?

99. Colour of your bedspread?

100. Colour of your room?

Plain ‘ol white.

I tag @rolodexthoughts . :)

#About Me #personal stuff

[prosaicswirl]

Day 8 of @short-story-slam! This one’s for my oc, Ciel, from my wip, Camisado. He’s a special forces soldier eventually learns what it means to truly be human, but not for a large portion of his life, and this is one of those times. It ties into the story, but when I actually get to that part of my wip, I doubt I’ll keep it as is. For now, he’s just questioning the role of morality in the armed forces. (~1.6k words)

Warnings: fighting, gunfights, injury, death, guns.

“I don’t care.”

“You have nothing to prove. Leave her out of your power struggle. She’s not a pawn you can use to promote yourself.”

Ciel went back to cleaning his gun. “That’s not why I’m fighting. I know I have nothing to prove, but I want a job well done. There’s a little girl’s life on the line, and these people want to hurt her.”

The scientist slammed his clipboard onto the table. “They’re hiring the wrong profile for the position and we both know it.”

“No, they’re hiring someone with a perfect record. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned and walked outside.

“This is Control to Team one. Ciel, do you read me?”

“Loud and clear.”

The cold winter air was biting at the parts of his skin that wasn’t covered by his balaclava, and it made him think of his cozy office with the heater on and warm sweaters… and the giant pile of paperwork. Damn it.

“Tango one is somewhere in the east building. They have a meeting going on in three minutes. You need to break in once they’ve started and take out that room. You have thirteen in total, but Tango one, David Neilson, is your priority.”

“Understood, I was the one who briefed you all,” Ciel muttered, waving at his team to form up around him. “Team one approaching entry point alpha. Team two,” he nodded at the other team leader, “will be in contact.”

“Copy. And good luck.”

There was an uncomfortable crunching sound under his boots as they trekked up to the remote cottage. This was all routine. He swung his grappling hook a few times before throwing it up and onto the balcony railing. A quick tug to check its stability, and he nodded to the rest of his team. The trek upwards was nothing – it wasn’t even that long of a walk.

No, the complicated part came after they were on that balcony.

“Control to Team one and two. Our informant missed their check-in. Proceed with caution, the situation’s changed.”

He couldn’t help but to frown at that news, but he still had a job to do. He nodded at his team and whispered to Team two. “Team one in position.”

“Team two in position.”

“Breaching on the count of three. One, two, three!”

Two simultaneous explosions went off and he led the charge, jumping onto one of the terrorists and tackling him to the ground before he slammed the terrorist’s hand to the ground disarming and cuffing him at the same time. He then took aim at a few enemies firing at Team two, and watched the men fall.

“That’s three. Where are the others?” Ciel gave the order to fan out and crept forward to the doorway to the hallway. Team two backed up back into the office where they breached in, and searched from their entry point.

When they had cleared the washroom and a side closet, the calls came in. Fast.

“Friendly down! Team two’s perimeter is breached!”

“Control?” Ciel called out.

“Under heavy fire, we need back up!”

His team was still looking at their respective angle, waiting for their orders. “Where—”

“Team two is pinned between the main stairs and that main lobby.”

“Headed towards the west main stairs going to the west entrance for a flank.”

They filed down, new purpose in their steps as they moved towards the sound of gunfire.

“Control, we’re going to make contact.”

“Your orders are changed. Team two is priority.”

Ciel nodded once and entered the fight from behind. He was ducking in between glass shelves and metal crates piled high as he took aim at one after another. He only saw one Team two member fighting back, which… where was their leader?

“This is Ciel, I’m going in closer.” He ducked through the door and crouched behind an upturned table while he assessed the situation. His teammates were fine, they were still up and fighting, but he was worried about the other side. As he heard footsteps approaching his table, he swiped with his knife, bringing them down to their knees before he cuffed them to the table and slit the gun so it clattered to the ground. Without blinking, he cuffed the other wrist to a completely different table so the terrorist couldn’t reach for his guns. With an extra primary in his hand, he powered his way to the side where he engaged the final few in a battle to corner them.

This new angle took out two before the rest surrendered. “Control, are we taking prisoners?” He asked, dreading the answer. That familiar clench started while he waited for the response in the deadly silent room.

“Only if they’ve surrendered and pose no threat. We’re not losing more soldiers today.”

While he and the remaining Team to member aimed at the last few, the rest of Team one arrested the final two.

“Ciel, sir, we’re missing a team member. He pursued Tango one downstairs, and hasn’t returned.”

“Merde,” he muttered. This soldier in front of him was new. One of the most recent recruits to make it past training, and the bruises and scratches showed that. “Mark Ciel as in pursuit. Send my team down when they’re done up here.”

“Ciel, wait—”

“Radio silence,” he muttered and turned off the comms as he made his way downstairs.

It was colder. No heating in this area, he supposed. Made sense. In the distance, he could hear voices, one… in pain… no. Two in pain. And a third, shakier, panicked one.

“Don’t kill him, Andrew, we need to leave, not leave a body trail.”

“He’s… He’s seen our faces…”

“It doesn’t matter, he’s half unconscious, and still new. He won’t remember shit.”

“He killed mom and dad.”

“Not him. Someone else. Someone more experienced, you know this. We need to go before they find us too. If they take us… if they take you… I’ll never forgive myself. Now, help me up and let’s run.”

“He has green eyes, stop lying!”

Ciel paused, trying to pin down where they were exactly by just their voices. But in the large, empty garage, the echoes made that impossible.

Green eyes. He’s killed lots, he won’t deny that… but now was not the time to reflect.

Then when…?

Damnit, he needed to focus. There was a life on the line.

“You’re losing your mind, let’s calm down and leave.”

The more this aggressor talked, the younger he sounded. Perhaps if he could negotiate, and save both—

“He hurt you… So, he’ll hurt too.”

The gunshot rang out, and Ciel turned the corner, eyes and aim darting to the only standing figure.

“NO—”

The cry was cut short by his own bullets as the figure fell.

Before the body even hit the ground, Ciel was on the other terrorist, face still covered in camo paint, and now with his hands behind his back. That’s when he saw the awkward angle of his leg. Only when the other body was secure, did he run to his fellow soldier, and saw the blood trickling right below the vest…

“MEDIC!”

The warmth and stickiness of the blood didn’t even make him bat an eye as he pressed down on it. Too much blood. Too much… There were feet around him as more people filed in, though no one moved a muscle.

“Help him!” he screeched, looking around before looking back down at the body.

There was a hole in his head. He didn’t die from the gut wound.

Morality’s a bitch that seeps into your thoughts at the worst moments.

He had the time, the resources, the orders, and yet he waited until the shot… Damn, how could he think that anyone would shoot anything other than the head? By the time he rose onto just one knee, his hands were already shaking enough to warrant someone helping him up.

The terrorist on the ground was watching him though… “So… you’re the green eyed-monster that invaded his house and killed his parents… And now you’ve finished the job.”

“Tango one,” he didn’t acknowledge the name. Ciel took one step before being pulled back by one of his. “I was looking for you that night too.”

There was snow that night too when they stormed a cottage looking for this man. He remembers kicking through a window and raining the glass pieces onto the couple. There was blood shed that night too. One of his own was killed by a hidden gun under the pillow. No kid and no Tango one to be seen.

“He was fifteen. He didn’t even know what to do, but he knew that he was angry. He was just a kid.”

“So, you used that to turn him into your soldier? How honourable. Feed him anger until that’s all he saw… I had my orders. You gave him his.”

Now, the clean-up team had started taking away the boy’s body. One clean shot through the head. Textbook. A perfect example of what following orders was. Now if only his orders weren’t getting harder to follow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

His footsteps echoed in bloodied hallways and empty battlegrounds. When he reached the confines of the camp, he shocked the base as he slammed his newly designed helmet to the ground, breaking the delicate machinery around it.

Ciel was perfect and didn’t need to prove himself. He knew what he was doing, and he was good at it. He makes no mistakes. Not in the eyes of the army at least.

#short story slam 2019 #my writing #my wip #writeblr #original story #flash fiction #camisado #amwriting #yikes #he's not very likable is he? #probably for the better...

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT 3X21 AND 3X22 - “Snow Drifts” AND “There’s No Place Like Home”

Watch what happens when Miss Swan tries to EMMA-ncipate herself from Storybrooke! 

Bwahahahahah!!!!

Anyways, let’s do the time warp agaiiiiiiiinn!

You better WATCH yourself because we’re going back to revisit the Season 3 finale below the cut! XD

I’m sorry this is so late! Super Smash Bros Ultimate kind of stole my life for a few weeks, but I’m back now!

Press Release

While Mary Margaret and David celebrate the naming of their son at a coronation in Granny’s Diner, Emma and Hook are pulled into Zelena’s time portal and find themselves in the Enchanted Forest of the past. But in their quest to discover a way back, they must be careful not to change ANYTHING or risk altering the lives of their friends and family – as well as their very own existence.

Main Thoughts - Characters/Stories/Themes and Their Effectiveness

Past/Present/Everything (?) XD

“Back to the Future” is my all time favorite movie, so is it any surprise that I fucking love this two parter? No? Well, good! Now let’s talk about why!

Revisiting this finale really shows me just how many story and plot points were set up in those first few minutes in such a natural way. This is easily one of the tightest finales in the show’s history in that regard. The story and plot here is so well paced. Never does anything, even for a second feel off or poorly spoken or anything of the sort! It’s just good! The absolute best instance of this is the two Hooks scene. Like, that was just so fucking CRAFTY for how Killian and Emma organize and enact the plan to get Snow to work for him.

I like how the opening of the episode finally lays out all the cards: Emma’s decision to go back to New York is a selfish one. She plainly admits this and spells out why. It’s framed as a bad thing to do and the episode’s goal is to tackle that. It’s the heart of the episode and it’s incredibly effective thanks to those opening shots that show just how much pain Emma’s been in throughout her past.

Oh my fucking God, all of the actors are just amazing here! EVERYONE gets a great moment! I talk a ton about Emma and Jen, obviously, so let’s give a shoutout to the others! Robert Carlyle gets to put all of Rumple’s delicious character aspects on display, from Rumple’s silliness to Mr. Gold’s snarkiness to both of their more sympathetic sides. Lana gets some fucking delicious ham as we see her Season 1 Evil Queen come out! Josh pulls off the perfect mix between being everything that Prince Charming is supposed to be with a more modern snark that makes him human. The same goes for Ginny, though the placement of this episode has Snow showing off a more believably cynical side to the character, which she nails! Jared Gilmore performs a fantastic Henry, understanding though still always tugging at Emma to come and stay home. Emilie de Ravin’s heart and soul during the wedding scene is just so present, so much so that I just feel myself bursting out in tears throughout the whole scene. And Colin, who boy! Colin had to take on two versions of himself and every moment of that was just delicious!

”Lovely ball the other night.” ...Is this to say that there was a day break between Emma being caught by Regina’s guards and being put in her cell? It makes sense, but WOW! I never thought of it like that!

The execution scene. The fucking kills me. I know Snow’s alive, but I don't fucking care. I still feel every bit of that sense of dread and disgust as the fireball takes her. And how that affects Emma, she can barely speak and when even the possibility of Snow being alive comes to light, Emma’s immediately back to full energy! Emma’s love for Snow is such an effective driving force behind the solving of her conflict of finding home. The moment that choked me up this time was Emma shouting “you’re alive” to Snow right before hugging her. Just...and then we have to sit on the reaction when Snow doesn’t recognize her. It’s just too much.

And Emma’s revelation. I love how slow and emotional the moment gets to be as she tells Killian why she wants to stop running and how she values her mother and life in Storybrooke. It’s so heartbreaking and heartwarming in the same vein. It’s this gentle breakdown that understands that yes, Emma has been selfish, but she wants to do and be better for everyone, including herself. She wants to be like the rest of her family. She wants to be a part of something. And the smile on hers and Killian’s face as she comes to terms with that lesson...it’s just the best kind of payoff! And then the reunion, accompanied by that GORGEOUS melody as Emma finally remedies her behavior towards her parents. It’s one of the most beautiful moments in the entire show.

So let’s talk about Baby Neal briefly, or rather, his name. This is one of the most contentious points in the entire fandom. I...don’t love it (but don’t hate it), but only because Snow and Charming didn’t interact with Neal all that much. Had they had any meaningful time together, I think this naming would’ve been not only good, but great. Even still though, I don’t really care too much one way or the other. I’m one of those people who is completely fine with kids on this show being named after the dead. Maybe that’s because it’s the case in so much of the other media that I’ve seen throughout my life and apart of the Jewish culture I grew up with, but I don’t understand the fandom’s hangup with that reason for names. People are named after the dead. It’s not that big of a deal.

Insights - Stream of Consciousness

-Guys, that is just cruel and unusual punishment to make all of the kids stand outside and watch a kid get adopted right in front of them. I get they’re trying to be polite and inspire hope, but they’ve GOT to know that that’s difficult for the non adopted kids to watch! Like, the actual fuck?!

-Dammit. The cameraman who kept the shot on Emma as she sees a kid driving off with a new family fucking is an evil genius and fucking WRECKS me! *sobs into infinity*

-Do you think Lucy had a coronation ceremony?

-Potluck at Granny’s, huh? I don’t know if that’s good because you’re thrusting less work onto Granny or bad because you’re denying her the business.

-Okay, I know Emma’s running away from her problems and all, but that retort about Snow and David stalling for time was fucking hysterical! XD

-Robin, that is one luxurious spread! But why are you guys sitting on the floor?! Don’t you know that Regina’s a queen and a bit more refined? XD

-”I would’ve walked through hell to be with my Marian again.” ...Dammit. I really want a Robin/Marian Underworld fic.

-”That [vault] was only for the most dangerous and unstable magic.” Then that sounds like a GREAT place for the dagger! “And this doesn’t qualify?” “No.” YES!

-To tell you the truth, I guess when you factor in both Rumple’s sacrifice AND the fact that he’s scary powerful, it makes sense that Maurice would bless the marriage. Like, he’s still a shit person, but the decision makes sense. I do feel though like they just stuck him in so that there was one extra person at the wedding, but I’d honestly think Ruby would’ve been a more appropriate choice since she was closer to Belle and even helped out Rumple on occasion, especially since she was actually in the episode.

-The entire back-and-forth about the origins of Snowing is the greatest thing in the world! XD

-KATHRYN! My sweet cinnamon roll!!! You look so happy and you’re talking with Best Matriarch!!! <3

-Okay! The Captain Cobra moment here is so fucking underrated! Henry trusts Killian with his fucking storybook! Like, this book just gave him back his memories and Henry trusts Killian with it to help his mom! Just...YES PLEASE!!!!

-”Stubborn like her...all of our family.” To be fair, have you MET your family, David? That correction is pretty accurate.

-”She would curb any homicidal tendencies.” ...I’m pretty sure that’s not how that works, mate!

-I love RC’s “oh shit” face.

-...To tell you the truth, now that we know Zelena survived, that corrupted footage isn’t that far off the mark.

-”You defeated the bloody Wicked Witch. You defeated Pan.” ...You’re not fully on the mark, Killian, but I do agree that she had a big part in taking them down.

-I LOVE THIS FUCKING MIRROR LAKE!

-Lana! Lana! There’s so much beautiful ham here and I love you for it!!! This scene where she’s intimidating the villagers! Just...this is perfection!

-BOOBS! I mean...Emma’s EF attire looks great! ...BOOBS! <3

-I just LOVE Emma’s smile as she watches the set up for her parent’s first meeting. Like, I legit reared up because that smile alongside the Snowing theme just...it was fantastic.

-”It’s a miracle you two fall for each other.” I love that ‘da fuq, Emma’ look Killian gives Emma.

-I love that look Killian gives Emma when he says “me.”

-...Damn, Killian looks good funny encased in shadows.

-And then he has to say “privacy” in only the way Killian Jones can do.

-”Ooh confidence. I like it.” And I like your confidence. ...Damnit, OUAT men! Stop being so attractive!

-Regina just ROCKS her every entrance!

-”It’s all about the tumblers.” I spell it differently, but I feel you, man. XD

-I love the way Neal describes his past with Rumple. The tragedy of their separation comes from the fact that they loved each other so much, but Rumple couldn’t overcome his demons in a way that could help them stay together.

-I LOVE this Captain Charming scene. The bros are so supportive of one another, though David doesn’t fully grasp who Killian is to him!

-”Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up with them again.” ...That hurrrrts!

-Ruby is such a badass!!!

-”Hook!” How strange must this nickname be to everyone else in this room?! XD

-*Snow sneaks up on Regina* Oh SNOW you didn’t!!! XD

-Aww! I love that Red Snow hug!!!

-You know, I really like the design of the trolls and am sad that they weren’t used more often.

-”I’m devilishly handsome again.” Yes you are!

-Gee! Is that urn important?

-I love both Rumple and Emma’s reactions to Neal’s name. That subtle happiness, especially on Rumple’s face, is just so beautiful!

-So I have so many feelings on Killian ‘ditching his crew.’ I actually wrote an entire fic about it. BUT that having been said, I think the choice he made was the right one.

-Archie, they’re getting married, not going ice skating. Wear a fucking suit!

-I can’t get as swept up in the OQ tragedy because Roland says “mama” and that is too fucking cute!

-Okay, that reveal of Elsa was SO FUCKING WELL SHOT! I love the slow buildup to her reveal, from the icy blue liquid in the urn to the forming of her dress to the shape of her hair to the dismissal of the liquid and finally, to the reveal of her powers! What an EPIC intro! Best one ever! Now I know you’re upset about that, Regina, but you just have to *takes deep breath* LET IT GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! (And THAT’S how you close out a season!)

Arcs - How Are These Storylines Progressing?

Emma Accepting Home - So look, I love how every season touches upon another aspect of Emma’s acceptance of people into her life, but on some level, I do get how the fandom got sick of it after a certain point. I firmly believe that this was the best and ultimate moment of culmination of this aspect of Emma’s character. That’s not to say that I didn’t like it in other seasons. Fuck no, I loved it in other seasons, but this was the best handling of it. The idea of those Emma loves and their philosophies on home and family all come together in this beautifully blended way. Emma’s parents, Henry, Killian, Neal, and more all contribute to her outlook on her life in Storybrooke and how her walls can be detrimental. And seeing Emma realize that makes for such a beautiful journey.

Killian’s Redemption - “That man sitting there, you don’t know him. Just be careful.” I feel like this line speaks to Killian’s improvement. He doesn’t want someone he cares for to see how lousy he was. And Killian’s redemption really gets its proper payoff here. With many of his past wrongs righted, Killian is finally given appreciation for helping get Emma back to Storybrooke. I think there’s an added layer to “you traded your ship for me.” Basically, Emma has to press him unyieldingly in order to find this out, meaning that he was never going to tell her on his own. He was willing to give up his home and have the act go anonymous.

Regina’s Redemption - ….Fuck. So, I’ve gone on about how I loved Regina’s Redemption this season. That is completely true. And this is where we take a GIANT step back. I GET that Regina feels resentment towards Emma. In this episode, it’s even at an okay level. BUT, going forward, this gives way to perhaps my least favorite Regina arcs. Thankfully, it only lasts for five episodes and I like the handling of it in the first four...you know what? We’ll talk about it when we get there! Apart from that aspect, I felt like Regina had reached a good place here! Her character is becoming more concrete.

Rumple’s Redemption - This is one of those episodes where Rumple’s decision to hide the real dagger and the truth about Zelena’s death makes things really sticky. And don’t forget, I was on his side for her death, but now’s the time to come forward! Apart from this aspect of it, something not at all glossed over in the episode itself, Rumple is framed as good. His wedding is a moment of character payoff and the happiness he feels as he gets married and Snowing’s son is named after Neal feels earned in a lot of ways. And the weirdest thing is that that’s Rumple for you: Undeniable someone with a big heaping helping of darkness, but a fuckton of character in there too. Like, this doesn’t ruin the episode by any means, but it’s there and it’s weird.

Neal’s Death - “Home is the place when you leave, you just miss it.” I think it was a fantastic story element to make one of the most poignant and thematically present lines in the episode something Emma learned from Neal. Not only that, but even some more of Neal’s minor advice comes in handy, like how to unlock the prison cell!

Favorite Dynamic

Emma and Killian. ...Look I work hard not to incorporate too much shipping into the meatier parts of the review and I’ll keep the romance out of it, I promise. So just give me this one. Cool beans? Cool beans. But seriously, I do actually have completely non-shippy reasons to love this dynamic as it works in this episode. For a time travel story to really work, there needs to be at the heart of it characters who know what’s going on and can interact with one another. It’s the most important dynamic in the story and if they fucked it up, the rest of the tale would’ve fallen apart, but thankfully, with Emma and Killian together, the special thrived. Killian and Emma both bring something to the table. Emma brings that fresh face and serves as a focal point for the story. Her naivete of some of the fairy tale elements and personal relationship to the people from the past is what keeps the story going and engaging. And Killian in a lot of ways helps to keep her grounded. While he cares deeply for Emma, his existence is not the one on the line and his lack of a familial relationship allows for some space between him and the events. He gets to be the clear thinker when Emma panics and her guide since this is his world as well as the voice of reason. And in return, Emma gets to perform the cool stunts, save people, and stand up to the past version of the Evil Queen. She even gets to save Killian’s ass in the case of royal balls and keeping his past self distracted. Together, they get to bounce around ideas, make jokes, and share moments of revelations that other characters in this episode aren’t and can’t be privy to. These two characters come together and make for a good and balanced dynamic for that reason. Additionally, Jen and Colin’s chemistry allows for a balance between things being lighthearted and serious when they need to be. Whether you like them as a couple or not, I don’t think it can be denied that they are the reason for why the main story was as entertaining as it was.

Writer

We have four writers here, two per episodes. David Goodman and Robert Hull worked on “Snow Drifts” and Adam and Eddy wrote “There’s No Place Like Home.” And they all did so freakin’ well! You can tell how careful these guys were with most every writing decision ever made. They managed to rework a fantastic episode, “Snow Drifts,” while still keeping to the dignity of it at the same time. It gels so well into also being a family story and allowing for as many fun character interactions as possible.

Rating

Double Golden Apple! What more can I honestly say? It’s as close to perfect as OUAT can get for me!

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

CAPTAIN SWAN, MOFOS! - THERE IS A REASON THIS BEAUTIFUL EPISODE IS CALLED THE CS MOVIE BECAUSE HOT DAMN IT IS A CS MOVIE!!!!! As I said in the “Favorite Dynamics” section, Killian is a constant source of support for Emma. He knows that she belongs with her family, respects her ideas, and challenges her. And just, let’s get through the moments, okay?! Like, he goes through a time portal for her! “One of these days, I’m gonna stop chasing this woman.” The fuck you are, buddy. You’re chasing her for all eternity! And just, he’s got her. He keeps her sane as she freaks out. He helps her relax. And just...the LOOKS he gives her! Like, look at how they joke around when Emma changes clothes, those little flirty looks! XD And speaking up, how about that loosening up of the corset and “you and I both know I’m his type?” Because that kills me. It utterly kills me! Someone drag my soul out of the Underworld because that scene destroys me in the best way possible! And the dude gets jealous of Emma kissing his past self, so fucking jealous that he needs to take his-fucking-self out! XD AND NOW WE GET TO THE BALL! THE FUCKING BALL THAT OWNS MY ETERNAL ASS! First, look at those smiles as Killian compliments Emma. THEN look at how Emma covers for Killian like a mofo’in boss! FINALLY, THE DANCING. IMMORTALIZED IN THE BOOK FOR ALL TIME IS MY FAVORITE CS MOMENT! EMMA GETS TO PLAY PRINCESS AND FEEL LIKE A ROYAL. KILLIAN GETS TO TREAT HER TO SUCH AND TEACH HER HOW TO WALTZ. AND THEY”RE SMILING AND HAVING SO MUCH FUN. IT”S PERFECT! HONESTLY PERFECT! Okay, I’m semi-recovered from that. Now, I also LOVE how Emma holds that ring to Killian and it looks just SO much like she’s proposing! And THEN “I’d go to the end of the world for her. Or time.” Just...you need to stop loving Emma so much because my heart cannot take it! And notice Emma’s smile when she says “Hook.” Then, we get an interesting callback to the Neverland Arc. When Emma asks Killian about his brother, Killian’s unwilling to talk about it, but here, knowing she needs that, he tells her what she needs to know. AND “I always knew there was a little pirate in you Swan.” She’s certainly getting there! And just...I love how Killian’s both harsh and gentle with Emma as she has her moment of realization. And THEN, Emma, after being with Killian for most of basically two or three days, goes out to see him again because he’s all alone! Just...the confession about giving up The Jolly Roger for love. I love how Killian never intended to reveal this and how Emma knows the weight of that choice. It just makes the subsequent kiss so satisfying!

Rumbelle - Oh yeah...There are other couples in this episode too! XD Sorry, but yes, I ADORED the Rumbelle in this episode. Like, in the past, I love how Rumple gets so embarrassed by Belle thinking that he talked about her and how he dismissed her. It’s so cute! And now, that wedding! That wedding! Just...what can I say about these vows? They’re perfect. The editing allows them to encompass every other couple while the lines are still completely their own and work perfectly for Rumbelle as a couple. Rumbelle is every other couple at their best and worst, a mix of best and worst traits and I feel like this wedding is a celebration of that fact. On a funnier note, I love how Rumple and Belle didn’t even wait for the fucking “I do’s” and just went at each other with  a kiss!

Outlaw Queen - Robin and Regina’s office picnic is so adorable and honest and open and beautiful! Like, they put everything on the floor, emotionally speaking.

Robin/Marian - Talking about Marian is difficult when you know that she’s actually Zelena, but this episode allows for her mostly to be herself, allowing for an accurate take on her. And to tell you the truth, I like this couple in a lot of ways. I love how much Robin misses Marian and that while he has moved on from her death, still cares for her so deeply. And Marian adores Robin! As soon as she’s free, she basically says “fuck it” to the stipulations of her freedom in order to be with him and Roland. Their love for each other is such a subtle and prevalent thing!

Snowing - Okay, so before we get to the past, let me say that I LOVE all of the Snowing banter at Granny’s! You can just TELL that a couple’s truly great when they can just joke and bicker about how they met and they have that down in SPADES! And in the past, I love the care that went into re-making Snowing’s story, but in a way that was still true to the original version. Though Emma, Killian, and Rumple are pulling the strings, Snow and Charming’s love is so carefully made to be all their own doing and that was so important. And I love the mix of new and old content so much. The repetition of lines just shows how true Snow and Charming’s love really is! And honestly, there’s something so special about Snow and Charming’s daughter being the one to bring them together!

Golden Hook - ...There’s so much FOETP goodness in here. Just, those hate-filled looks in the forest, that suffocation, the quips about burying the hatchet! There has never been true hate in all the lands! <3 Also, when Emma asks about how Killian got his hook, Killian’s next response is to say that she knows “who he is.” This hook and it’s origins, Rumple, are who he is.

Swanfire - That amusement park date was too cute and I really love how Neal’s advice is something that sticks with Emma. It shows Emma’s nuance as a character, as she can accept good and bad things about Neal, even during periods of time where she hated him. And I legit fucking BAWLED when Emma was telling Rumple about how she loved Neal and how he was a hero. Like, just...don’t talk to me! That was too much!

-----

Again, I am SO sorry this review took so long and wasn’t as deep as some of my others! Super Smash Bros, guys. Fucking dangerous. There was more that I wanted to talk about in this episode, but I’d rather you get the review than spend any more time! Thanks, as always, to @daensarah and @watchingfairytales!!! Love you guys so much!!! Hopefully, I can get the Overview done within the next few days and then we can get to season 4!!!!

Season 3 Total (207/220)

Writer’s Scores: Adam and Eddy (59/60)* Kalinda Vazquez (34/40)* Andrew Chambliss (42/50)* Jane Espenson (28/30)* David Goodman (39/40)* Robert Hull (40/40)* Christine Boylan (20/20)* Daniel Thomsen (28/30)*

* Indicates that their work for the season is complete

Links to the rest of my rewatch will no longer be provided. They take posts with links outside of searches and I spend way too much time on these reviews to not give them that kind of exposure. Sorry for the inconvenience, but they still can be found on my page under Operation Rewatch.

#ouat #once upon a time #emma swan #watching fairytales #ouat 3x21 #ouat 3x22 #jenna watches ouat

[dakotasjournal]

The Liebgotts

You run down the hallway, heart racing.

“Stop!” the person behind you calls. You keep running. Hitting one of the side doors to the school, you run out and to the parking lot. Reaching your truck you roll under it and pull yourself up into it. You listen to the footsteps approach, then they leave. You let out the breath you were holding and drop yourself down from your truck’s undercarriage. You crawl back out and head back to the school.

Someone slaps your shoulder.

“TAG! Ha! Guys, I got her!” they shout.

“Damn it!” you whine. Your gym class always failed to tag you, even now in high school. And you wanted to keep it that way, but then this new kid actually got you. You turn and look at him.

“Damnit Web, how did you get me?” you question him.

“Eh, it wasn’t too hard. I watched that you can for sure outrun me and everyone here, so I had to outsmart you, and I did great apparently,” he explains. You got to hand it to him though, he is the first to ever tag you. “Oh, and my name’s David, not Web.” he adds.

“Good to know Web.,” you say. The bell rings and school is out. You leave David behind and go find your brother. Walking over to him once you do find him, you kick him in the ass before you get close.

“What the fu-?” he turns and looks at you, “Oh it’s you,” he sighs.

“Let’s go, the family’s visiting tonight,” you tell him.

“One sec, I want you to meet someone,” he says heading towards a vaguely familiar body shape. He says a few words to him before they both turn back around to you. David Webster.

“Whoa, how do you know her?” David questions your brother.

“She’s my twin dude, how else?” David’s face was great.

“Well I guess that explains it then,” he says.

“Wait, how do you know my sister?” Joe asks Web.

“Gym class, I tagged her today,” he smirks. Joe turns and looks at you, awe on his face.

“You finally got tagged?” he doesn’t wait for an answer before he high fives David.

“Ok ok, I got tagged, so what, we got to go, the family will be home soon.” you direct to Joe.

“Ok, I’ll see you tomorrow Web!” he shouts as you head to your truck. Once you’re both in the cab, you turn to your brother.

“That was too close today Joe, we have to be careful about who we become friends with, especially now with everything that’s going on,” you warn.

“Why do our families issues screw our life up?” he questions. You start the truck and pull out of the parking spot.

“Because, we’re the biggest mafia in town, and the newbies want our turf. And because of your last name, you’re not safe just doing whatever, just how it is,” you say softly. He’s right, your ‘family’s’ drama has ruined your chance of being a normal teenager. You’re 17 years old, you know multiple ways to kill someone and get away with it, you get any information you want, and you can beat everyone in every gym activity. Using most of this stuff, you have gotten quite the reputation at school. You’re the badass who can’t be beaten. No one starts fights with you or your brother. Or talks to you for that matter, until David. Wait?

“His last name is Webster right?” you frantically ask Joe.

“Who’s?” he continues to look out the window.

“David’s.” you sigh,

“Yeah, that’s his last name, why?”

“What was the name of the new group?” Joe seems to get where you’re coming from.

“Sounds the same, we’ll ask when we get home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You pull into the garage, parking your truck. Joe and you climb out and run inside.

“Winters!” you shout down the hallways. A voice calls from one of the rooms.

“In here!” both of you enter the room, stepping into his office. You face the man who has raised your brother and you since your parents broke a deal with him when you were 5, and they paid for that. No one breaks deals around here.

“Ahh the twins, how can I help you?” he puts his pen down.

“Who is the new mafia?” you ask, Winters just looks at you confused.

“What’s their last name?” Joe asks.

“Oh, well the leaders' name is Webster, why?” he cocks an eyebrow at both of you. Joe is the first to speak.

“We met their son, he goes to our school, he has 2 classes with me and gym with (Y/N).”

“Does he know your name?” he frantically asks you both. You both shrug at him.

“I never told him my last name, he only knows my first, I can’t say for Joe though.”

“He went up when the teacher was calling roll, but I don’t know if he saw it or not.”

“Most likely he did dumbass, no one wants to be friends with us, so if he voluntarily talked to you, he saw it.” you snark to your brother.

“Hey, lose the attitude, I am 3 minutes older than you ya know.”

“You sure as hell don’t act it,” you tell him.

“Guys, enough, you need to watch what you do around him now, he knows who you are and will report to his father, so be careful, dismissed,” Winters tells you before you leave. Walking out of the office your brother pulls you to the side.

“How much of your training did you use today during class?” he whispers. Thinking back you realized that it was enough to tip Webster off about who you could be, then Joe telling him you’re twins is just icing on the cake.

“Enough, I used my physical training in wrestling, then tag after class, then I used my mental against the teacher and got away with being late,” you admit. “What did you use?” you ask him.

“My computer and mental, the only things I can actually do effectively,” he tells you. You both look at each other.

“We are so fucked,” you say at the same time.

“What did you do?” a voice asks behind you both. You turn and see Eugene standing there, the cool quiet one, who is actually one of the best here. And he’s your boyfriend, 17 as well, but goes to the school across town. His name on the streets is Doc, no one knows why that’s just what they call him.

“Webster enrolled his kid David into our school, and ‘googly eyes’ here used her abilities in front of him.” Joe answers. You snap out of Eugene’s face and retort to your brother.

“Don’t act like you didn’t also, and I’m not the one who told him our names.”

“Joe, you do know that we’re not supposed to reveal our names to anyone, right?” Eugene adds.

“I didn’t tell him our names, he was looking on the teachers' computer during attendance, he saw it on his own,” Joe argues.

“Well, you doomed me by saying we’re twins. If you would’ve left that information out I could’ve been out of sight long enough to get you out like I usually end up doing anyway.” you snap at Joe.

“She’s not wrong Joe, the only way people are supposed to figure out you’re twins is on their own. But if I recall correctly,” Eugene turns his attention to you, “ Joe and I had to get you out of enough messes as well.” Eugene reasons.

“Ok, fair enough, but what are we gonna do about Webster now?”

“Just have Doc save you,” Lipton says from the background. All three of you jump at the sudden addition of a voice.

“Jesus Lip, don’t do that,” you tell him.

“Awe, come on (Y/N) aren’t you a master assassin, you should be able to sense stuff like that.” Lip smiles at you.

“Whatever, but what are we gonna do about David?” you try again.

“Just keep your eyes open, go about your day, but watch yourself, and him, gather what you can safely and report, simple,” Lipton tells you three.

“I’ll start coming at lunch to help and keep eyes off you, people get uncomfortable at public displays of affection.” Eugene smiles at you as he leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Yeah, no shit, get a room!” Joe yells at you two. You giggle before you and Eugene leave for your walk.

~~~~~~~~~~

Strolling through the garden, you both don’t say a word. Then you stop walking and look at Gene.

“What do you think is gonna happen now that Web knows?”

“I can’t say, I don’t know enough about the Webster’s to answer that, but you should be fine, you are a master assassin,” he tells you.

“Yeah well not a good one apparently, I said his name many times today, and let Joe tell him who we are, and I still didn’t figure it out. I’m trained to know this kinda stuff and I let it slip.”

“You’ll be fine, everyone slips up at one point.” he reasons.

“Yeah, but not me, with my reputation I can’t afford a slip-up, it’ll cost my life soon.” you think aloud. Eugene just looks at you as he grabs your hands into his.

“You’ll be fine, you got me and Joe, and the rest of the family, you’ll be fine, we will make sure nothing happens to you, but you gotta make sure you stay out of the spotlight,” he explains.

“Okay.” you nod.

~~~~~~~~~~

You duck your head, dodging the oncoming fist.

He’s too slow, he needs better form. Wait, I can use that!

He swings again, but instead of just dodging, you duck towards him, hitting his gut and kicking his legs out from under him. Nothing to cause damage, but to throw him off. He falls against the grass of the park.

“Yeah, get him (Y/N)!” you hear from the group surrounding the fight. Your opponent stands back up, jumping from foot to foot. He smirks at you, standing completely still.

“Dumb move girl,” he starts to circle around you, “all you’ve done is piss me off.” he snarls. You turn a 180 and face him once again just as he’s about to jump you. You slide under him and grab both feet, pulling them out once again. He stands up faster this time, nose bloody from the impact. He makes another swing at you but you grab his arm and pull yourself up onto his back. He starts to move around, trying to throw you off with no success. You stand up, hooking the toes of your combat boots to his belt. You grab his arms and wrap them around his own neck, then you stand up still holding his arms. The whole group goes silent, not believing what they’re seeing. You see your victim struggle to regain his breath. He drops to his knees, but you hold on. Your training kicking in, needing to kill him. But as your surroundings jump back into your mind you hear a few sporadic voices.

“She’s killing him!”

“Someone stop her!”

“Do you want to try?”

“Call the cops!”

“Guys, get help!”

Only once your senses return, you stop and let him go. You look around at the group, then at the blue-faced boy at your feet. Towering you at a staggering 6’5, outweighing you at 200 lbs, and you took him down easy. For you, this is normal. But for the bystanders? They have never seen a girl, or anyone for that matter beat him. And they just watched you take him down with his own arms. They don’t even know why it started, but they all know who finished it. And you know who is getting their ass whooped when her ‘family’ finds out. You look around again at the crowd, but this time a set of bodies in familiar stances catches your attention. Joe and Eugene are standing there. They both just stare at you, surprise, mixed with disappointment and fear on their faces. You duck your head and leave the group, a few people flinch away from you, others just give you room to leave. You walk away until you’re out of sight, blocked by the small bunch of trees, then you take off at a run. You needed to find a place to hide for a while before you face Winters and your brother and boyfriend.

You climb into a tree and sit near the top. As you wait for Joe and Gene to find you, you replay the recent events over and over in your mind. You beat this dudes ass, almost killed him, and did it in front of people. Your ass is grass now.

“(Y/N), come down, we need to talk!” Joe calls up to you. Taking one last deep breath, you lower yourself from the tree, landing in front of your brother. As you start to raise your eyes, you see that it’s just him here.

“Eugene thought it best if only I talk to you about this,” Joe answers your mental question.

“I’m dead, I killed myself, I shouldn’t have done that, when they find out...and, and Webster was in the group I bet, he, he saw it all, and now he’s gonna report back and get me killed.” you ramble, tears starting to pool into your eyes. Without a word, Joe strides over to you and pulls you into his bigger chest. He wraps his arms around you as you press into him, his heartbeat in your ear, feeling it against your palm. Even if you haven’t cried in years, he still knows the best way to deal with it.

“You’ll be fine, you got me and Doc to keep you safe, along with everyone else, yes Winters may be mad, but if you explain why, he’ll let you go. And don’t worry about Web, I’ll take care of him, you just need to worry about the principle and not letting the cops find out who you are, now let’s head back and get this over with.” he coos to you. You nod against his chest and you start to leave. He stays right next to you, his arm over you, then you run into Gene and he does the same, on the other side. Soon you understand why.

As you step out of the trees, there’s a mini-mob of students and their parents waiting for you. You see the boy being checked out by the ambulance, and a cop car parked by the school. You duck your head once again and both Joe and Eugene start to jog, you in between them, towards the school. All three of you head to the office, the cops and principle waiting for you there. You step in with your boys still by you, though they aren’t holding onto you anymore.

“No, they need to leave, just you.” one cop says.

“I ain’t talkin’ unless I can have them in here,” you tell her. The cop glares her ice blue eyes at you.

“Let them stay Private, we need her full cooperation for this.” the other cop says. The private steps away and lets you and the boys into the room. You walk up to the other cop and stand in front of him.

“Ok, so it is my understanding that you and this boy Jacob got into a fight?” the cop asks you.

“Yessir, that is correct,” you answer calmly and steadily. You may be a master assassin, but you have manners.

“Ok, and may I ask what this was about?” the cop asks again.

“Well sir, I don’t know what it was about, all I know is that he started to yell at me and call me nasty names, then he punched me across my jaw,” you explain truthfully.

“I don’t see any marks on your jaw, and the video shows you ducking and then jumping him first.” the female cop buts in.

“Ma’am, teenagers don’t usually start videoing until the fight already started. Yes, the video shows me attacking him, but it also shows him attacking me many times, I’m not denying that we fought, and I choked him, I’m just simply giving you the rest of the story,” you explain to her. The male cop looks at his partner and she shakes her head him.

“Is this the whole truth?” he asks you.

“Yessir,” you answer him.

“Ok, so because you did almost kill him, and it was a fight, I’m gonna have to call your parents to help take care of this and figure out the next step,” he explains softly to you. You nod slowly and your heart rate picks up a little.

“Can I ask your name so I can contact your family?”

“Uh, my, my name is (Y/N) Liebgott,” you admit. You see the moment that the name registers into his mind, this cop has dealt with you and your family before.

“Uh, you know what, nevermind on that call, just head home and tell your family what happened and to call me if they have any questions, you’re free to go.” the words spill as he hands you a card with his information.

“Uh, what are you doing, we have to call her parents, she almost killed a kid!” the female cop complains.

“No, no, trust me private, we want her family to take care of it, not us,” he explains to her.

“Why? We need to do our job here.” she tries again.

“You’ll learn soon enough private. Have a nice day Liebgotts, Doc.” and with that, the cop pushes his partner out of the office and they leave. You turn back to the principle, who hasn’t said one word the whole time.

“Uh, you have ISS for a week starting Monday, you can go home.” she waves at both you and Joe. Leaving her office with both boys in tow, you head to your truck.

“What was that all about?” Doc asks confused.

“Well, that cop knows me, knows who I am, and he doesn’t want to get all caught up in it, so he let us go,” you explain.

“How does he know me then?”

“You’re part of the group, he knows all of us. Just drop it and let’s head home before Webster tries anything.” Joe adds.

“Joe is there a way you can delete the video from any and all devices that have it, I don’t want Web to use it against us and show his father,” you ask.

“Duh, I can do it in the truck on the way home,” he smirks.

part 2 coming soon

#The Dakota Journal #dakotasjournal #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #twins

[robronotics]

Post Ep Ponderings Weekly Round-Up August 6-10

I knew that donor heart wouldn’t work out somehow. I still think they’re somehow going to make it so that she gets Margarita/Grace’s heart when she’s born. How many months off is that now anyway? I keep thinking that a new born baby heart would be too small, but I think I heard something once that you’re heart size doesn’t change? Any medical people out there know anything about this?

I wonder why Matty is pushing so hard for Vic to start dating again. I’m torn between the show getting them together and him living vicariously through her if she does start dating because he’s still worried about it himself. Speaking of Vic, what are the laws like in the U.K. if she wants to get divorced? Is this an annulment kind of situation? I mean, what if Adam really does never come back. I’m sure she’ll want to get married again someday. P.S. David and Vic together would be super weird. That whole weird set up thing did not work for me.

I thoroughly enjoyed Megan embarrassing herself on the motorcycle for Frank, only to have him go off on a date. Rishi helping her out was pretty fun too. Not only was it just a funny scene, but I don’t like Megan and watching her lose was entertaining to me.

So I’m guessing we’re going to be finding out more about Beth. I think the most interesting part of her this week was actually more about Harriet. Usually Harriet is really quick and on top of things. They always seem to attribute it to her being an ex-cop, but she seemed strangely obtuse when Beth was trying to say without saying that her aunt is abusive. My guess is that Beth will end up living in the village permanently in the next few months, once they figure out how to get over it breaking her bail conditions. Also, I think Amelia might just be a little bit in love with Beth.

I really like how they’re dealing with Grace, Paddy and Chas. In opposition to how having David and Vic interact was weird and off-putting to me, I actually quite enjoyed Laurel and Chas’s little talk. That scene worked really well for me.

How awesome were the kids this week? Joking around, teasing each other about being scared and going ghostbusting! I didn’t live in a small village or have woods nearby, but that completely reminded me of some of the best times of my childhood. I only wish they could’ve actually saved Bex (side note: I saw that Lachlan spelled it Becs, but I don’t care, my spelling is better!). How awesome would it have been if a group of 8 year olds had saved her?

And finally, the big story of the week, Lachlan and Bex. When it first seemed like Lachlan had killed her, it made sense to me, for the most part. As you may remember, I was actually happy to have her live. Now I’m a little confused. What was the purpose of randomly keeping her alive for an extra couple of weeks if he was just going to kill her anyway? Last time I was sure she was dead and I was wrong. Now I’m not convinced she’s dead so she probably is. Was it just so Lachlan could try and cover his tracks by having her record that message? I mean, I did like the drama, loved her smashing him in the head with the frying pan, so I guess it wasn’t a complete loss, but damnit, I hope I’m not wrong and she is alive somewhere. She’s not listed as a departing character (yet) so I can hope and seriously, wasn’t Ross buried in a shallow grave once? I’m guessing we won’t know for a bit, what the actual outcome was because I’m sure at some point someone is going to find that message she carved on the wall in the cabin. My hope is after that is discovered that we’ll suddenly find out that Lachlan has her stashed in a mad house or something. One thing I do know is that Lachlan isn’t really thinking far enough ahead with his lies to cover his tracks. He really needs to figure something out because literally no one believes that she would just leave Seb behind.

#emmerdale #are you pondering what I'm pondering? #sarah sugden #grace dingle #matty barton #victoria sugden #megan macey #frank clayton #rishi sharma #harriet finch #beth #amelia spencer #chas dingle #paddy kirk #laurel thomas #april windsor #arthur thomas #angelica king #heath hope #cathy hope #i'm missing a kid for sure #lachlan white #rebecca white

[starlingsrps]

gillian abigail clement (nee donnelly), twenty eight, illustrator - brie larson

like look: up until six months ago, gillian had a pretty good life and her shit together.

gillian grew up with an older sister named margo who is both her best friend and the biggest pain in her ass (margo is extremely important so hold for more margo). her parents encouraged her to be artistic and rowdy so gillian grew up as a total tomboy who used to draw tattoos on other kids for their lunch money at recess. this was all well and good until she used a permanent marker to give david clement a dragon tattoo on his face right before class pictures.

oops.

david was her best friend growing up - their houses were three apart from each other and they shared the same passion for exploring the woods behind their subdivision and bugs.

later, they shared the same passion for making out in the woods behind their subdivision but that's teenagers for you.

gillian went to art school and started a comic while david went to university and studied business. they got married the week after graduation.

life was good there for awhile - they were very much one person in the different bodies and while that made for some crazy intense fights now and then, they were mostly of the same mind on everything. their twenties were for exploring and growing up, kids and the suburbs were for their thirties. david worked marketing, gillian raised their cat and her online comic (think hark! a vagrant in terms of scale because i'm lazy).

all of that ended when david dropped of a heart attack at twenty seven six months ago.

gillian doesn't like to talk about it. the last thing she said to him was a reminder to pick up trash bags on the way home and he died with a paramedic holding his hand instead of her and she hasn't learned to live with that.

margo moved in "just for a little while" after david died but she's still living in the den. gillian keeps grumbling about kicking her out one of these days but truth be told, she likes the company and she's not ready to be on her own just yet.

some days are good and some days margo tells her they're going to yoga and froyo and dumps her at grief support group instead. some days, they revert back to kids and try to murder each other over the lone bathroom in the house but there's no one else gillian would rather have with her at three am when she wakes up crying.

gillian hates talking about her feelings. she's fine damnit. therapy? no, she's not crazy. support group? for weirdos. let her work and don't tell her to take up running to deal with the pain. everyone wants her to start jogging and they can go fuck themselves.

gillian swears like a sailor and doesn't care if your kid is around to hear it. it's the fucking real world, nancy, little timmy is gonna hear the word shit someday.

she's kind of a bruiser in terms of personality - a little bossy and brusque and a lot impatient. she likes to get shit done and doesn't like negativity. she's always been a pretty positive person and this newfound and extremely unwanted depression has been hard for her to stomach. she's not used to being okay one day and spending the next four days crying in her pajamas because something reminded her of david.

okay so she doesn’t hate grief group that much. there are donuts there and it’s something to do. just don’t tell margo.

#c: gillian clement

[donteattheappleshook]

Ok how about a double date CS w/ Snowing instead of the outlaws

Sorry this took me a little while to answer but man, something this fluffy turned out to be a hell of a challenge! So thanks for your patience and for making me flex my fluff muscles. I also have no idea how this ended up being over 10 000 words..... 

I combined this prompt with one I received on Ao3 asking for a CS date during the six week gap in season 4. Hope you like it!

big thanks to @xhookswenchx and @teamhook for looking this over when I was pulling my hair out!

Also on Ao3 as part of my new CS Prompt Collection

-/-

Seal of Approval

Emma gets up quickly, sets down one of the giant muffins her mom made and heads in the direction of the crib when she hears her brother crying. Damnit, she’d only just gotten him to sleep, only just gotten to sit down and have a bite to eat. Babysitting sucks. She loves baby Neal - even if she isn’t the biggest fan of his name - but anyone that comes between her and a snack is going to have something to answer for. 

“Hey, man,” she says, picking him up out of his crib and bouncing him on her hip. “Couldn’t hold in the waterworks until Mom and Dad came home?” Neal stops crying and smiles up at her, grabbing a fistfull of her sweater and leaning his head on her shoulder. Okay, maybe he’s not so bad. He could be worse. He could be a giant ice monster, or a dragon, or the Dark One.

She shudders. It’s been three weeks since their last crisis, since the Ice Queen sacrificed herself and since Belle banished Gold from Storybrooke. Emma still can’t believe she did that, can’t believe the amount of guts and backbone that it took for her to do that despite the love she’s sure Belle will always have for him. But he’d gone too far, threatened too many people, lied to them too many times, and he’d had to pay the price. 

Since he’s been gone it’s been, well, quiet. It’s strange - for Storybrooke anyway. Emma and her dad take turns working at the station, Mary Margaret is back at the school regularly now that there’s no monster to fight. Killian has been spending his time working alongside Belle to help free the fairies from the Sorcerer’s hat - that’s a friendship Emma hadn’t seen coming, but she’s glad that Killian has someone else in town to spend time with besides her and David. He’s really starting to feel like a part of the community. 

Today is her day off, and while she’d have liked to spend it hanging out with Killian on his newly returned ship - not that they really ever leave the cabin but that’s besides the point - he and Belle are pretty sure they’ve had a breakthrough and Granny had to cancel on babysitting. So she’d agreed to do it. How much trouble can a kid be? She has fake memories of raising one after all. Neal spits up in her hair. She sighs. How much longer until her parents get home?

“Hi Sweetheart,” Snow says, walking through the door just as Emma has set Neal down with a few of his toys and is attempting to wash baby vomit out of her hair in the kitchen sink. “How was your day?” she asks, picking the baby up. David walks in behind her.

“Great,” she lies. Her mom doesn’t need to know. “He already had his supper but I didn’t give him his last bottle yet.” 

“Thanks,” David says, kissing her forehead. It’s still a bit weird, knowing that David and Mary Margaret are her parents, that they’re the same age as her. But it’s weird in the same way that it’s weird that everyone in town is a fairytale character. She’s starting to get used to it and if she doesn’t think about it too much, she can forget it. Mostly. Usually. 

“How was the station, Dad?” she asks. 

“Quiet,” he says. “Just some teens graffitiing the alley behind Granny’s.” 

“Did you use your scary prince face?” she asks. 

“I don’t have a scary prince face!” he insists. “But no, I sicked Granny on them,” he tells her with a knowing smirk.

Emma laughs. “How was school?” she asks Mary Margaret. 

Mary Margaret goes on to tell her about her day, about the work the kids are doing, how they’re adjusting to everything. She also mentions that she saw Killian and Belle on her way home and that they were finishing up at the library from the looks of it. 

“Killian was walking her home,” she tells her. “It was sweet. I think he worries about her.” 

Emma smiles a little. “Yeah, well, Killian has a history with women who’ve loved the Dark One.” Both her parents frown and she realises this is not a backstory she wants to get into - or one that’s hers to tell. “I think I’ll head over,” she tells them. “Go meet Killian on the Jolly if he’s done for the day.”

“Again?” David asks and the way he says it makes her pause. 

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“Well you’ve - you’ve been there almost every night this week,” David says. 

“Yeah, it’s Regina’s week with Henry. What’s your point?” she asks with a raised brow. 

“David,” Snow interrupts. “She’s a grown woman. If she wants to spend her time at her boyfriend’s that’s totally up to her.”

“Boyfriend?” David demands, shock and disbelief and a hint of panic in his tone. 

“David...” it’s a warning this time. 

“Do you have a problem with me dating Killian?” Emma asks. She thought her dad was starting to like Killian. Had she been wrong? 

There’s a long, tense moment before David speaks. “No,” he says finally, shoulders falling on his exhale. “I just… didn’t realise you guys were so serious.” He’s trying really hard to sound casual and she appreciates that. 

“Yeah, well,” she says. It is serious. She thinks. They date and spend most nights on his ship together, they’re sleeping together and as far as she knows neither of them are sleeping with other people. He tried True Love’s Kiss on her for god’s sake and as terrifying as that idea still is… well, yeah, she’s pretty sure it’s getting serious. More serious than she’s let anything get in a long time. Walsh doesn’t count. 

“Then I think we should meet him,” David says and both Emma and Snow turn to him in confusion. “Properly.”

“Dad, you know Killian.” Was there another curse that came through town that she didn’t hear about? 

“I don’t mean meet him I mean…” he searches for words. “If we were back in the Enchanted Forest, or even if we’d been able to raise you here, if you were dating someone seriously you would have brought him over, for dinner or something, so that we could meet him properly, as your boyfriend.” He nearly chokes on the last word. 

Emma frowns at him, skeptical. “Is this some weird thing so that you can ask him about his intentions or something?”

“No!” he insists quickly. He clears his throat. “Besides, I already did that,” he adds quietly.

“You did what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

“No, he didn’t tell me!” 

“Huh,” is all David says. 

“Probably because he knew it would make me annoyed at you. He wouldn’t want that.” David’s face softens and looks guilty all at once. “He’s changed.”

“I know he has. I just… we didn’t get to raise you and meet any of your boyfriends. This time, if it’s something real, I want to get to know him better,” he says and Emma lets her hackles down a little. “Why don’t you invite him over for dinner tomorrow night?” 

“Are you planning to interrogate him?”

“No… I mean I have some questions,” he starts and holds a hand up when Emma starts to protest. “But they’re normal questions. The kind a dad should be allowed to ask the man who’s dating his daughter.” 

Emma sighs. “I get it, Dad. I do. But, I’m not a kid. We’re the same age and bringing my boyfriend over for some formal, meet the parents dinner just feels… weird.”

“Why don’t we do something else then?” Snow chimes in, ever the peacekeeper. “Maybe… a double date!”

“A what?” Emma and David answer in unison. 

“Like you said, we’re all the same age. Why don’t we all go out and do something fun together? That way, we can get to know Killian better without so much pressure. Emma has a point, Sweetheart. The age thing makes it weird so maybe, this way, we can work on being friends,” she finishes very diplomatically, her hand stroking David’s arm. 

“But I…” David starts. 

“Honey, our daughter is a grown woman. Killian is older than you. We can’t pretend she’s a little girl that needs looking after. Besides, it’s been a while since we had a date night.” 

David sighs, caving. “Alright,” he agrees and Emma shares a thankful look with her mom. David looks up again. “But can I at least -”

“No,” Snow and Emma cut him off. 

-/-

“So listen,” Emma says, propping her chin on Killian’s chest, her fingers drawing patterns through the hair there. “I need you to do something for me.” 

Killian’s smile is obscene as he pulls her in closer, hand wandering over her naked back. “Anything,” he promises as his fingers trace over the skin at the curve of her hip. He’s gonna regret saying that, she thinks. She really wishes she didn’t have to ask him what she’s about to ask him because she knows it’s going to stop the trail of his hand cold. 

“I need you to go on a date with me and my parents.” 

He freezes, blinks. “I’m sorry?” he asks with a small shake of his head, eyes wide. “What?” He’s frowning at her now and it’s really almost funny to watch all the emotions play across his face. She pulls back, sits up, letting the sheet fall around her waist and taking a moment to appreciate the way his eyes drift down despite his confusion. 

“David and Mary Margaret want to go on a double date with us.”

“They want to spend an evening out with us? With me? With the man who is currently engaging in sexual congress with their daughter?” 

She smacks him on the shoulder and he laughs, catching her hand and pulling her back down on top of him. “Oh my god. You cannot make reference to the fact that we’re having sex! I think my dad is still trying to convince himself that I’m a virgin.” Killian smiles wickedly again and she glares. “Don’t,” she warns and he bites his lip. 

“So what exactly would this evening entail? Would they care to join us for a night on the Jolly Roger?” 

Emma shakes her head. “It’s too cold. We just don’t notice it because we stay down here.”

“That’s not true,” he insists. “There was that one night on the deck. I believe we managed to keep quite warm.” She rolls her eyes. “So what then? Dinner at Granny’s?” 

She shakes her head again. “They said that wasn’t special enough since we eat there all the time together. And the whole town would be there.”

“Alright. Then what did they suggest?”

Emma shuts her eyes and buries her head in his chest, not wanting to say her next words. “They want to go for drinks at the Rabbit Hole,” she mumbles against him. 

“The Rabbit Hole?” he asks and she can hear the raised eyebrow in his tone. “Why the devil would they suggest that?”

“Because I told them we go there,” she groans. He’s looking at her when she finally lifts her head, waiting for an explanation. “They had another one of those ‘we’re not old, we’re fun’ moments and they asked me what we like to do with our time together and I panicked because I couldn’t tell them what we actually do when we spend the night together so I just blurted out that we like to go hang out at the Rabbit Hole and they just jumped on the idea and well, here we are.” 

Killian looks equal parts like he wants to laugh and jump overboard at the idea of going to a bar with her parents. It’s not her fault! She had to come up with something and the truth of the matter is that she and Killian are still in the honeymoon period of their relationship - though she doesn’t really see it slowing down anytime soon. This is the first quiet moment they’ve had since they really got together. This is the first time they’ve been able to really be together and not just find a few stolen minutes when her parents are out of the loft or when they could steal away to his room at Granny’s. It’s nice, just being able to enjoy each other. 

“Well,” Killian finally says. “I suppose it has been a while since I took you out properly.” Emma looks up at him, relieved and hopeful. “Besides,” he shrugs, his hand resuming its path again. “It could be fun.” 

Emma does not appreciate the look in his eye when he says that - well, okay she does, a lot, but not the implication of what that look could mean for tomorrow night. “Behave yourself,” she warns him. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Swan,” he insists. “I will be the picture of propriety.” Yeah right. She doesn’t believe that for a second.

“My dad still has a sword.”

Killian smirks, rolls her over onto her back and settles his hips into the cradle of her thighs. He gives her a wink. “So do I.” 

-/-

When Emma and Killian arrive at the Rabbit Hole, the place is already nearly packed with people. Emma’s not surprised, the town only has one bar and, well, there’s not much else to do on a Friday night here. She’s broken up enough fights at one in the morning when she works the night shift to know how rowdy this place can get. Which is why she still can’t believe this is where her parents wanted to have their date. Here. Of all places. She sighs, maybe she should have let them just have Killian over for dinner. 

“What’s wrong, Love?” Killian asks, nudging her shoulder and leaning down so he can whisper in her ear. She’s sure the volume in this place has something to do with it, but not everything to do with it as the goosebumps rise up on her neck and she feels his lips against her skin. So much for best behaviour. 

“Just thinking that I’m definitely going to need a drink if I’m gonna make it through tonight.” 

“Aye, you and me both,” he smirks, directing her towards the bar. Emma can’t actually remember the last time she came here for a drink and not for work. It’s weird, people keep looking at her like they’re expecting to get arrested. What’ll they think when the King and Queen walk in?

“Two rums please,” Emma orders and the bartender heads off to get them their drinks. 

“Crowded in here, wouldn’t you say?” Killian asks, sliding in closer and wrapping his hooked arm around her so that her back presses into his chest. Cheeky, she thinks. Not that she really has any issue with him finding a reason to press up against her. If her parents weren’t about to walk through that door any minute, she’d roll her hips back against him, just to get him worked up. But they are coming. So she doesn’t. 

They’re handed their drinks and toast, to surviving the night, and then throw them back in one shot, ordering a second round. Those are thrown back too. She doesn't intend on getting drunk, just a little loose, enough that she can get through the social awkwardness of dating with her parents - but not so much that she might say or do anything to give herself away. 

Killian leans in under the guise of making room for someone squeezing by behind them. Suddenly, his lips are by her ear and she can feel his smile against it, the one he gets when the rum is just starting to warm his blood.

“Killian,” she warns when his lips close around her earlobe, and then start trailing slowly down her neck. 

“Hmm?” he hums, playing innocent. 

“My parents are going to be here any minute.” 

“Indeed,” he speaks against her neck and then continues, unperturbed. “But they aren’t here yet, are they?” 

Fine then, if that’s how he wants to play. She pushes back against him, her ass pressing into the front of his jeans and his lips fumble against her skin. He clears his throat and when he speaks again his voice is rougher, a little bit of an edge to it. 

“Careful what game you’re playing there, Swan,” he warns. She smirks.

“You started it.” She sees the door open, sees who comes in as they scan the room, looking. Emma grabs her third drink in one hand and then reaches back to brush her fingers against the hardening length pressing against her back. Killian growls. “Mom! Dad!” she calls then, waving them over. The sound Killian makes is priceless. She knows she’ll probably end up paying for it but it’s enough to see him so thrown off his game when she looks over her shoulder. 

She steps forward, out of the circle of his arms and into her mom’s embrace. “Hi sweetheart!” Snow says, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Hi Killian,” she says, looking over Emma’s shoulder. Killian coughs awkwardly and raises his glass in greeting. Emma bites back her smile.

David leans in for a hug too and then reaches out to shake Killian’s hand. Emma notices that he keeps the majority of his body behind her as he takes her father’s hand. Maybe she was a little too mean. He really was asking for it though. 

After a second, he recovers flawlessly, smiling at her parents with that charm she knows has gotten him through more challenging situations than this one. “So, what will you have?” Killian asks, waving down the bartender. 

“Beer for me,” David says, pointedly speaking to the bartender rather than letting Killian order for him. She sees the slight smile on Killian’s face. “Snow?”

“Beer,” she says and four pairs of eyebrows raise. 

“Beer?” Emma asks 

“I drink beer!” Snow insists. Even David doesn’t look convinced. “It’s a night out! I’m having fun!” 

Emma cringes. All she can hear is ‘I’m not like the other moms. I’m a cool mom,’ echoing in her head. Even when she and Mary Margaret were roommates, her mom never drank beer. Wine, yes, sometimes even hard liquor if the situation called for it. But never beer. But then again, her mom did just have a baby. Maybe she’s trying to take it easy. 

“Okay then,” Emma says. “Make it four. She throws back her last drink. This night is already off to an interesting start.

David suggests they find a table and they manage to trudge their way through the crowd towards a small booth in the back of the room. Emma’s pretty sure that booth had been occupied a second ago. She doesn’t know whose presence led to it being vacated: the royals, the sheriffs or the pirate. What a freaking weird bunch they are tonight. 

They squeeze into the booth, she and Killian on one side and her parents on the other and then… nothing. An awkward, long, heavy silence hangs between them, the kind of silence that’s always dreaded when it comes to new social interactions. Twice Mary Margaret opens her mouth and Emma hopes she’ll say something but both times she closes it with a frown. David keeps alternating between clearing his throat and taking sips of his beer. What is going on? They’ve all spent time together before, they’ve all spoken to one another… but that was usually about a crisis… now with no crisis there’s just… quiet. She hates it.

The TV switches to a hockey game and David perks up. “Oh, this should be a good one,” he says and Emma realises those are the first words that have been spoken in five minutes. Mary Margaret nudges him in a not so discreet way and he looks at Killian and Emma. “Do, uh, do you like hockey?” he asks Killian lamely. 

Killian scratches at a spot behind his ear. “Alas, I’m not familiar with it. I don’t know the rules.” 

“Oh,” is all David says. 

Before the next silence can last too long Mary Margaret speaks. “So, Killian, how are things going with Belle?” she asks with a smile. “Have you made any progress?”

“Very little,” he sighs. “We keep getting stuck with translations. Those magic boxes can do much but they can’t decipher the spells.” 

“That’s too bad,” Snow says and Killian agrees. Another silence follows as they all nurse their drinks and half-watch the game. 

Emma startles suddenly when she feels Killian’s hook on her knee. His hand is around his glass, perfectly proper, but his hook is starting a slow climb. She kicks at his foot, trying to ignore the sparks shooting along her skin. He is not actually going to try this with her parents sitting right in front of them. He hides his smile in his drink. Her parents remain unaware and Killian grows more daring until suddenly Emma is distracted from trying to bury her fingernails into her palm by her dad speaking to Killian again.

“What games do you know?” he asks. Emma smiles a little. She can tell he’s really trying. 

“Few from this world,” Killian admits, his hook has stopped it’s journey for now but it’s still on her thigh. “There was little opportunity for sport on the sea but I fancy myself quite good at cards and dice. And of course swordplay and shooting.” 

David actually smiles. “I miss a good sword fight for the sport of it,” he says. Snow catches Emma’s eye and gives her a little grin, clearly thrilled that they’ve found something to talk about. 

“Perhaps we ought to have one someday,” Killian suggests and Emma tries not to laugh at the idea of two of the most competitive people she’s ever met sword fighting ‘for fun’. She can see the concern on her mom’s brow too. “Actually,” he says, looking over at the dart board. “I’ve quite taken to darts.”

“Really?” David perks up. “Why don’t we play?” He asks, looking excitedly at the three of them. 

Killian looks at Emma and she shrugs. “Sure, why not? I’m a little rusty though.”

“Then we’ll just have to get you loosened back up won’t we?” Killian teases with a smile that’s way too suggestive for present company. 

He’s really enjoying this isn’t he? She shakes her head at him and his brows waggle. Her dad is looking at them with a little less enjoyment but also like he doesn’t have the ground to stand on to protest anything. She remembers the way Killian had teased David when he picked her up for their first date and she wonders exactly how far he’s going to push this. Well, he wouldn’t be a pirate if he didn’t crave a little danger, would he?

They wait for the current game to end and then head over to claim the board. Emma can’t help but notice the way her dad’s eyes shift when Killian wraps an arm around her shoulders as they walk, keeping it there as David grabs the darts. He looks at them. 

“Do you want to go first?” he offers, pointedly looking at Killian’s arm. 

“I’m fine,” he waves him off. David clenches his jaw and Emma raises a brow at him. Apparently his overprotective dad mode has been initiated. And Killian’s hook is in a much more respectable place now than it was a few minutes ago. David turns to throw his first dart and Emma looks up at Killian, flashing him that same raised eyebrow. 

“Be nice,” she tells him.

“I’m always nice,” he smirks. 

“No, you’re trying to give my dad an aneurysm with your PDA.” 

“I don’t know what either of those things mean but I’m certain your father can handle his daughter being shown a bit of affection.” He’s at least keeping his voice low. 

She shrugs. “Your funeral.” 

“I can think of no better way to perish than by showering you with my attentions. Well, maybe one.” 

She rolls her eyes and he laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to her temple. Emma sinks in against his side a little, leaning her head against his shoulder and looping her arms around his waist. It’s nice. The whole sweet, boyfriend-y, little touches and cheek and forehead kisses and stuff. It’s new and she’s not used to it, but she likes it. 

David clears his throat and Emma raises her head to see him pointedly holding out the darts for one of them to take. Really? She casts a desperate glance at her mom who is trying and failing to hide her amused smile. But Mary Margaret steps forward and plucks the darts from her husband’s hand. David looks at her like she’s betrayed him. 

“I’ll go next,” she announces, actually winking at Emma as she walks by them. 

“But shouldn’t one of -”

“Nope!” Snow turns to the dart board and throws three bullseyes in a row without flinching. Killian’s arm falls slightly from Emma’s shoulder as he swallows, eyes going a little wide. 

“Woah, Mom,” Emma gapes. Snow shrugs but Emma can see her preening, a little bit of a daze working its way into her smile and she can tell that the drink might be starting to hit her already. That really just makes the bullseyes more impressive. She walks over to David who smiles proudly and kisses her. Oh, so they can show affection but she can’t? 

“My turn,” Emma says, giving Killian’s waist a squeeze before heading over to pull the darts out of the board. “Wish me luck!” 

She stands at the line and sets herself in the right posture, but before she can throw the dart, Killian’s hand is on her back, his cheek brushing her ear. “Good luck,” he whispers before pressing his lips to her neck. Her dad’s throat clears again. “You feeling alright, Dave?” Killian asks with a smirk. Emma elbows him. 

She throws the dart and it misses its mark. Although, she’s pretty sure that it has more to do with the pirate whose lips are curling against her ear than with her actual skill. 

“You need to adjust your form, Love,” he tells her, finding an excuse to wrap his hand around her hip and pull her back a little against him. David coughs again and she swears Killian’s face is going to split if he smirks any wider. “You should really get that checked out, mate,” he says. Killian actually does adjust her form, pulling her hip back and lining her shoulder up more squarely with the board. The next dart hits the bullseye. 

“He’s not wrong,” Snow says softly and Emma doesn’t look but she can just picture David seething beside her. The third dart also hits the center and she and Killian both walk over to pull them from the board. 

“You need to behave yourself,” Emma whispers to him. He only smiles. 

“We’re on a date, Swan. Is this not how people are supposed to behave on dates? It would certainly seem so if the movies your mother recommended are to be trusted.”

“You actually watched those?” she asks, surprised. 

“Aye,” he nods. “And those Henry and your father recommended as well. The Widow Lucas showed me how to use the black box in the room I rented.” He looks at her. “What?”

“I’m just surprised I guess.”

He shrugs. “They took the time to share something they enjoyed and hoped I would too. It would feel rude not to.” Emma smiles at him. It’s kind of sweet to see the effort that he’s making to befriend her family - even if he is currently trying to give her dad a heart attack. “Besides, it gives me something to talk to them about.” 

She laughs. “We could have used that when we were at the table,” she jests, nudging him with the dull side of the dart. The corner of his lips pull up salaciously. 

“I was otherwise engaged.” 

“I think you got them all,” David says impatiently and Emma hangs her head, a small laugh escaping her. They make their way back to her parents and Killian takes his turn, hitting two bullseyes. In the end, Snow destroys them all and while he’s proud of her, David still shakes his head and laughs. 

“Well,” he says, hands on his hips. “My ego is thoroughly bruised.” Snow smiles at him and pats his chest placatingly. “What do you say we try another game? Maybe pool?”

Killian agrees and she and her mom shrug. Why not? It’s better than sitting in awkward silence back at the table. 

“I must say, Your Majesty, I could have used someone with your aim back on my ship. Not only in scuffles but it’s always good to have a shark when gambling and sailors often make the mistake of underestimating a woman.”

“Men, you mean,” Snow quips and Killian laughs.

“Aye.”

“But we know better don’t we?” David chimes in. “I only needed to learn that lesson once,” he laughs, rubbing at the scar on his chin.

“I know exactly how you feel,” Killian smiles, his arm snaking its way across Emma’s shoulders again. David looks surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“Did your wife not tell you?” Killian asks, then looks at Emma. “Did you not tell him?” She shakes her head. “When Emma and I first met, when we were fighting to get here from the Enchanted Forest, Emma knocked me out with a rather impressive blow to the jaw.” He rubs at his chin.

  “Aw, sorry, babe,” Emma says, rising up on her toes to kiss the spot where she hit him so long ago. He had it coming back then, but she feels a little bad about it now.

“You did?” David demands, looking at her with some kind of fatherly pride she’s still getting used to. She doesn’t fail to notice that he doesn’t seem quite as scandalized by her kissing a man in front of him as she expected. She nods. “Huh,” is all he says. 

“Like mother, like daughter, I suppose,” Killian ventures. David actually laughs.

“Yeah, I guess so!” He looks at Emma. “Good for you,” he says before casting a slightly guilty look at Killian. “No offence.” 

Killian shrugs it off. “None taken. I was… different back then.” He looks a little ashamed and David nods. 

“Yeah,” he agrees and Killian’s shoulders straighten. Emma squeezes at his waist, trying to sooth him, but she doesn’t need to when David speaks again. “But you’re not that person anymore.” 

Emma doesn’t know who is more shocked, Killian, her mother, or herself. Killian coughs, scratches behind his ear. He’s trying to play it cool but she can tell how much even this small acknowledgement from her dad of how much he’s changed affects him. 

“Right,” he says finally. “Shall we play some billiards?” David nods and Emma starts to follow them but Snow stops her. 

“Why don’t you boys play,” she suggests. “Emma and I will go get another round.”

“You don’t want to play?” Emma asks, frowning. She knows her mom has a competitive streak. Snow shrugs.

“Pool isn’t my strong suit,” she says. “And I think I’d like to go out on a victory.” David checks once more that she’s sure she doesn’t want to play and she assures him she doesn’t. Emma’s pretty sure that her dad receives the same hint that she’s getting: Snow wants him and Killian to spend some time alone together, she’s giving him his chance to talk. Emma’s weary but she’s also getting the sense that her mom is also trying to lure her into some kind of weird mother-daughter talk under the guise of getting drinks. 

They push their way through the crowd - Emma swears it’s even more packed now than it was when they first got here - and make it to the bar. It takes them a while to get the lone bartender's attention and Mary Margaret takes that time to look back at where the guys are playing pool. 

Emma looks over her shoulder. She can’t help but laugh. They both have the same cocky swagger to their mannerisms, showing off with every shot. She can’t hear what they’re saying but she’s certain there’s a little trash talk going on. It looks like Killian is winning though, if the smile on his face and the frown on David’s is anything to go by. David says something that makes Killian laugh and David raises an eyebrow as he leans over the table to take his shot. She’d never noticed that little quirk of her dad’s. 

“I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Snow comments and Emma turns back to her. 

“What?”

Snow nods towards the guys again. “I just think you might have gotten your taste in men from me,” she smirks. 

“What? Ew,” Emma says but then she looks over at them and oh my god. “Oh my god!” she says. “Oh, gross.”

“It’s not gross!” Snow laughs. “Your father is confident and kind and supportive - and so is Killian. And he looks at you like you hung the stars - that’s an addictive feeling, believe me, I know. But it’s not a bad thing,” she says quickly and Emma realises her panic must be evident on her face. 

Things are going well with Killian. She likes him. A lot. More than she’s liked anyone in a long time but… he traded his ship for her, his home, and to hear Snow tell her that he looks at her the way her father looks at her mother.. they’re true love and well, it’s a lot. And it’s a little scary. 

“I know it’s not,” she admits. “It’s just -”

“Intense?” Snow asks with a smile. 

Emma laughs a bit. “Yeah.” Her mom nods. “Intense is the right word. Killian is really kind of all or nothing and all in and I like it but it’s… a lot.” 

“Just give it time,” she says, reaching out to stroke her back gently. “I have to say, as your mother, it’s nice to know that you’re lo-” she cuts herself off. “That you’re cared about so much.” Snow has a small dreamy smile curling her lips and Emma asks her what else she’s thinking. She shrugs. “Your dad is like that too. All or nothing. Like I said, the apple doesn’t fall far…”

Emma raises an eyebrow, biting back her smirk. “Yeah, well, I never slept with Whale so…”

Snow bursts out laughing and actually smacks her arm and Emma starts laughing too. For a moment, it feels like before the curse broke, back when Snow wasn’t her mom but just Mary Margaret, her friend, her roommate. She misses that sometimes. She’s happy she has her parents, that she finally found them, but sometimes she misses her best friend. 

Emma manages to get the bartender’s attention and orders their drinks. “So,” Snow asks as they wait for their order. “How are things going?” She’s still got that lighthearted, slightly coy smile on her face that reminds Emma of simpler times and so she answers honestly, speaking to her friend rather than her mother. 

“It’s going… it’s going really well actually.” Snow’s smile is going to split her face. She nudges her with her elbow.

“Tell me!” 

“I dunno. He’s sweet, like really sweet. With me but also with Henry and I guess I never realised how much fun he is to be around. He’s always teasing and playing around and he’s got all these great stories and these little quirks that I didn’t know about. And he asks me about myself and he just listens - like, actually listens.” 

She looks over at where Killian’s playing pool. He catches her eye, raises a brow. “And it doesn’t hurt that he looks like a freaking Calvin Klein model. And oh my god the s-” She stops. Suddenly remembering who she’s talking to. Snow doesn’t look phased, only smirking at her a little wickedly and Emma wonders if she’s feeling the same nostalgia she is or if it’s just the one beer already hitting her. 

“You’re blushing,” she teases. 

“I am not!” Emma insists. 

“Hey, I don’t blame you. He is very hot.”

“Mom!” 

“What? I’m married. I’m not blind.” 

Emma only gapes at her in disbelief as Mary Margaret shrugs dismissively and grabs the four bottles when they’re set down in front of them. The bartender also sets down a bottle of rum giving her a smile. 

“On the house,” he says. “You being here has people on their best behaviours. I haven’t had to throw someone out all night.” 

“Is this a bribe?” Emma asks with a raised brow.

“Absolutely,” the man says and Emma laughs, accepting the bottle and the glasses but throwing in a large enough tip that she doesn’t feel like she’s committing a felony. When they reach the pool table, there’s some sort of heated argument going on.

“I’m just saying, when I win, I want to win fairly,” David says. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Killian insists. 

“What’s going on?” Emma interrupts. 

“Killian is cheating.” 

“I’m not cheating! I’m offended you would even suggest it.”

“Why do you think he’s cheating?” Emma asks, feeling protective of Killian but also fully aware that him cheating is absolutely a possibility. 

“Because five minutes ago he was sinking everything and then I missed a few in a row and suddenly he hasn’t managed to sink a single ball.” 

Emma bites back her laugh. “You think he’s cheating to let you win?” Emma looks at Killian, sees the smirk on his face. Oh my god, he’s cheating to let David win. 

“Emma,” David says. “Please tell your boyfriend that I can win on my own, thank you very much, and that this isn’t going to earn him brownie points with your dad.” 

Killian laughs but he reaches out and grabs hold of her hand, squeezing it when her dad refers to him casually as her boyfriend. She brings his hand up to her lips and presses them against his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise while her father rolls his. She wonders at his surprise. Maybe she’s not the best at showing affection. Maybe she should work on that. 

She steps forward into his embrace and he wraps his hooked arm around her as he reaches for his cue that’s leaning against the table. She presses herself against him and puts her hand on his chest. There’s still that bit of surprise on his face but his smile tells her it’s the good kind. 

“Killian,” she says seriously, tilting her head up to look at him. 

“Yes, Love?” 

“Stop letting my dad win,” she smiles. He laughs, nods, but leans down quickly to kiss her, brief enough that David can’t really complain. It doesn’t stop him from frowning though. 

“Alright then, Dave,” Killian says when Emma walks back over to her lean against the wall with her mom. “Let’s have a real game shall we?”

The game gets pretty close, by the end it comes down to David having only the eight ball left and Killian having one of his own to sink. David misses the shot and they debate the rules as to whether Killian wins by default or if they keep playing. David insists that he’s lost and that that’s better for Killian since he’d still have two balls to sink to win. Killian insists that he loves a challenge and wants them to continue. 

Snow rolls her eyes and shoots Emma a knowing look. Shit, they really are alike. She’s trying not to be grossed out by that. In the end, Killian sinks both his ball and the eight and wins the game, but in a way that David can respect and he offers him his hand to shake, insisting that they’ll have to have a rematch sometime. Killian’s smile at the offer and the way his cheeks go a little red warm her heart.

“How did you get so good at this?” David asks. “They didn’t have this game in the Enchanted Forest. Do you and Emma play a lot when you come here?”

Killian shoots her a smirk and she glares at him. “No, we usually enjoy ourselves in other ways when we spend an evening together.” He’s really pushing it, she thinks. But as far as her dad knows they hang out here on their nights together so hopefully he thinks that Killian just means they play other games, and not that Killian spends most of his nights with his head between her legs, playing in a whole different way. 

“It was Belle, actually,” he adds before David or Snow can put any pieces together. “She’s quite the shark and sometimes we play to blow off steam when the research gets to be too much. She taught me a trick or two. There are quite a few games she’s taught me that we didn’t have in our realm. I must say this world has a certain advantage when it comes to entertainment.” 

“Yeah,” Snow says. “I have to say I’d miss reality TV and the Food Network if we ever went back.” 

“And video games,” David adds. “And ESPN.” 

“Look, the Enchanted Forest lost me at no indoor plumbing,” Emma chimes in and there’s a shared laugh of agreement. 

“I do miss some things,” Snow admits. “Like royal balls. There’s nothing here quite like the dances we used to have at the castle.” 

“I miss riding horses,” David says. “Cars are great, but you can’t bond with a car. What about you, Hook? Do you miss anything from your old life?” Emma tenses, almost worried about his answer. He gave up his home for her, she reminds herself. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll never regret it, that he’ll never resent her for it. 

“Can’t say that I do,” he shakes his head, reaching for her as though he knows exactly what she’s thinking. He probably does. “Particularly now that I have my ship back. I missed the sea.” He looks at David pointedly then, his fingers tightening on her hip and she knows that the message is for her too. “But I have no plans of leaving. I’ve found a call that’s stronger than hers.” He looks at her out of the corner of his eye and she tenses a little, a natural reaction to such an overt admission of feelings, but then lets out the breath she’s holding and smiles at him, lets herself be happy about it. She catches David’s nod of approval. Mary Margaret’s practically swooning. 

“I do miss the music, though,” he adds after a moment. “There’s something about the sound of a crew singing under the hot sun while they work, or late at night under the stars that nothing here has managed to live up to. The music in this realm… leaves something to be desired.” Emma bites back her smile, remembering his distaste for most, if not all of the music Henry insists on playing loudly whenever he’s on the Jolly Roger with Killian. 

“Although, I will admit that some of the music Emma has shown me is more... palatable.” Emma smirks as David and Snow ask what music he means.

“I showed him classic rock,” she tells them. “I thought with the whole leather and eyeliner and earrings it might be up his alley.” She was honestly shocked when he’d liked it. She’d been showing him a bunch of different genres and he’d made faces at nearly all of them, all but folk - which she expected - and classic rock - which she had not.

David’s eyes go wide but not in shock, in excitement. “And you liked it?” he demands. 

“Aye,” Killian answers. “They have melodies that encourage singing along and that feel like they should be sung in groups. It feels nostalgic.” Emma can’t quite make the connection between something like Queen or Led Zeppelin and sea shanties out on the water, but she’s never been there so she assumes it’s more of a feeling thing than a technical thing.

“I love classic rock! I was born in - well, David Nolan was born in - the eighties! I grew up listening to that stuff! At least, I have memories of growing up listening to it, of my mom playing records for me. It’s complicated.”

“Sounds like it,” Killian laughs. 

“Don’t they have a jukebox here?” David exclaims, scanning the bar. He clearly spots one because he grabs a very confused Killian’s arm and drags him across the room. Emma looks at her mom who seems equally as surprised before she bursts out laughing. Her dad is acting like a little kid - or like a nerdy dad - and poor Killian is apparently going to be subjected to a hell of a musical education. 

Emma grabs the bottle of rum and the glasses and holds them up before she and Mary Margaret head off after the guys. “I think we’re gonna need this,” she jokes. Snow only nods, smiling. 

When they reach their significant others, Emma is surprised to find them in a heated conversation, debating the merits of AC/DC versus Aerosmith. Emma can’t even keep track of who prefers who as they speak over one another and take turns - sorta, they kinda push and shove really - filling the jukebox and picking songs. 

“Swan,” Killian turns to her for the first time in nearly ten minutes and she looks at him with an arched brow. “Do you have any of those blasted quarter-dollars? My dubloons won’t fit in the bloody machine.” 

Emma laughs. “They’re just called quarters and no, I don’t. But I have rum,” she offers as a substitute. 

“Aye,” Killian says. “That will help too. Especially if your father is going to continue to insist on playing REO Speedwagon.” 

“Hey!” David cries. 

Emma and her mom try and coax the guys over to the table nearby but neither of them are willing to step away from the jukebox, both convinced that someone else will choose a terrible song. They also can’t stop suggesting songs and the way David keeps excitedly shouting ‘oh man, yeah I love that one’, and Killian keeps referring to songs as ‘bloody brilliant’ has her pretty sure that she and Mary Margaret have lost them for the night. 

So, she fills her and her mom’s glasses and they head to the table that is literally less than six feet away, leaving the bottle and the two other glasses for David and Killian. The women sip their drinks, watching in amazement as the two grown men continue speaking so fast she can’t keep up with what they’re saying and bouncing on the balls of their feet. 

Emma loses track of what happens really after that, David and Killian become a bit of an entertaining blur, both of them laughing and talking and drinking rum - they’re really drinking quite a bit, she realises at one point - and singing along. That’s right. The two of them are belting out classic rock songs, drawing annoyed and weary looks from everyone else in the room. But what can they do? It’s the king/sheriff and a freaking pirate. Who's going to stand up to that?

“At least they’re getting along,” Snow comments, wincing as David and Killian butcher a song she can’t recognize - probably because they have the words wrong. 

“Of all the things that I thought might bring them together, I never thought it would be this.” Emma shakes her head. “Do you really think -” she starts but then feels silly for asking. Snow gives her an encouraging look. “Do you think dad likes him?” 

It shouldn’t matter. She’s a grown woman and she can be with whoever she wants to be with. She’s never needed anybody's permission or approval and she doesn’t need it now. But just because she doesn’t need it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want it. 

“I think,” Mary Margaret starts, choosing her words carefully. “I think that were it any other situation, if Killian wasn’t the man dating his daughter, he and your father might be best friends. I think he does like him, but he’s trying not to like him too much because he’s stubborn and overprotective and he feels like he needs to be on your side.”

“There aren’t any sides,” Emma says. “We’re together. We make a good team.”

“I see that. And your dad is starting too also. You just need to give him some time. But I think that they’re making some serious strides if tonight is anything to go by.” She winces again as David fails to hit a particularly high note that should be reserved for only Freddy Mercury. But he laughs as Killian pours him another drink, clinking his glass against the other man’s. 

“And you?” Emma asks hesitantly. “Do you like him?” She’s never thought to ask. Her dad has always made his opinion clear. Mary Margaret is different though. She plays things closer to the chest. She’s never really worried about her opinion of Killian until now, now that she realises she doesn’t know what it is. 

Snow smiles. “I do,” she says, placing her hand over Emma’s reassuringly. “I didn’t always, but even when we first met him I could tell there was something going on between you. It scared me back then because of who he was. But he’s changed, become someone better, someone who might actually deserve you.” Emma opens her mouth to protest, to defend Killian but her mom stops her. “I just mean that I have trouble believing that anyone deserves you. But the way he looks at you, and the way he supports you and encourages you. Yeah, I like him.” 

Emma smiles, looking down to hide the effect of her mom’s words, which she’s sure are written all over her face. “Good.”

"Emma," Killian says, suddenly right beside her. She turns to find him looking down at her, hand out and a slightly dazed, happy smile on his lips. "Dance with me." His eyes are heavy-lidded and there's the slightest sway to his stance. She bites her lip. He's drunk. 

She notices David there too now, having more trouble standing upright than Killian is, but still pulling Mary Margaret to her feet. "It's no royal ball," he says. "But will it do for now?"

She doesn’t hear what her mom answers. She’s too distracted by the arched eyebrow and upturned lip that’s just shy of Killian’s usual swagger, slightly softened by his current state. But he looks so sweet and she remembers dancing with him at the ball in the Enchanted Forest and thinks it might be nice to do it again without the threat of never being born looming over her.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a goofy grin, pulling her up and wrapping his arm around her, holding his hook out for her to take hold of. Oh right, he waltzes, she nearly laughs. He leads her to the little space between the seats and the jukebox, they’re in their own little corner here, away from the rest of the crowded bar, some eighties balad blasting through the speakers. Emma swears she sees David shoot him a thumbs up over Mary Margaret’s shoulder. 

She knows it’s probably not proper dancing form but she lets her fingers slide from his shoulder up to the nape of his neck so she can play with the ends of his hair. He leans into her touch. She’s impressed when he actually attempts to lead them through the steps she can barely remember. He’s honestly not too bad at it, less graceful than he’d been last time but, considering the nearly empty bottle of rum, she gives him credit for standing right now. 

He stumbles over his own feet eventually and chuckles softly, lightheartedly, and it’s nice to hear. “I fear I might not be quite up to the task at the moment,” he says, shaking his head. She laughs with him. 

“That’s okay,” she tells him, pulling his hook around her so it can join his hand at her back. She slides her other hand up around his neck. “Why don’t I teach you how we dance here this time?” She steps into him, pressing her chest to his, and starts to sway. 

His arms tighten, pulling her in closer. “So many wonderful things about this realm,” he starts, laying his forehead against hers. “But this might be my favorite yet.” She laughs a little, the slightly mumbled way his words come out betraying him again. She’ll tease him tomorrow. But right now he’s soft and warm and happy and he smells so nice, so she lays her head on his shoulder and dances with him in a dingy bar with her parents right next to her. It should be weird. But it’s not. It feels right. Probably because it’s him. No, definitely because it’s him. 

Killian’s hand moves over her back, playing with her hair as he turns his head to nuzzle against the back of her neck. She’s pretty sure he doesn’t even mean anything by it when his fingers trail down her spine and settle on her backside. She’s not surprised, she’s well aware that he’s a fan of that part of her, and he’s still swaying with her gently. She is surprised that her dad isn’t causing a scene over it though. 

She peeks over Killian’s shoulder and really wishes she hadn’t. Her dad isn’t saying anything because he didn’t notice, because he’s too busy making out with her mom, who is giggling and playfully swatting at his wandering hands. Oh god. She’s gonna be sick. 

She makes a sound and Killian’s head pops up, follows her gaze behind him and a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. She glares at him. 

“I cannot believe you got my dad drunk,” she hisses. 

“I did not get your father drunk! He got me drunk!” Emma rolls her eyes and he smiles even wider. “I think I’m winning him over,” he winks. “And I think he would make a good drinking buddy.” Emma pulls back to look at him, her brows shooting up to her hairline. 

“Where did you even learn that term?” 

He just smiles. His hand gives her ass a squeeze - definitely intentional this time - as he pulls her in closer, pressing her hips to his as he runs his nose and then his lips along her jaw. Her heart rate picks up, it’s automatic at this point, her skin prickling everywhere it’s touching his, but she tilts her head away, enjoying the very put-out and slightly confused expression on his face. 

“I am not making out with you next to my parents.” She looks over at them again, grimaces. “Even if they seem to have no problem making out in front of their daughter.” 

Killian takes her chin between his thumb and finger, drawing her eyes back to his as he leans in, his lips a breath away from hers as he speaks, that wicked grin coming back. “Actually, Swan, I had quite a bit more in mind…” he trails off. Emma swallows.

“Then maybe it’s time we get out of here,” she suggests. And he nods so enthusiastically it makes her laugh. 

“That’s a brilliant idea,” he tells her. “I always said you were brilliant.” 

She turns them so that she can look over at her mom without having to leave his arms because she really doesn’t want to at the moment - and maybe she wants to save him the awkwardness of hiding the growing hardness she can feel against her stomach. Thankfully, her parents have stopped making out and are now just gazing dreamily into each other's eyes. That might be worse, really. 

“I think we should get these two home,” she says and Snow looks over at her, confused at first but then nods, laughing as she takes in the state of their dates. 

“Goodnight, Lady Snow,” Killian says. “Until next time, mate,” he says to David. Emma holds her breath but to her surprise, David smiles, reaching out to give Killian one of those weird, bro-ey handshakes where they just kinda clasp hands like they’re going to arm wrestle. David turns to Mary Margaret then. 

“One more song,” he insists. “I picked the next one.” 

“Okay, one more song,” she agrees, patting his cheek. 

“Goodnight, Mom. ‘Night, Dad,” she says as she turns in Killian’s embrace to head out. He practically presses himself against the back of her as he follows. 

“Night, sweetheart,” David says. “This was fun,” he adds - slurs. 

Emma smiles. “Yeah, it was.” She waves goodbye to her mom who gives her one of those touched, happy smiles and then she leads Killian out of the bar. 

His hand is on her waist the whole way through the crowd, fingers dancing along the edge of her shirt, sneaking under it, hot against her skin. His breath is on her neck and every few steps he leans down to brush his lips against it too. 

They’ve barely made it outside before he’s pulling her out of the reach of the lone porch light above the door and pressing her against the wall. His lips fall over hers and his hand slips under her shirt, flattening against her stomach and sliding higher. Emma groans into his mouth, reaching up to grab hold of his hair, pulling him closer. His hips press against hers, pinning her to the wall as his hand finds her breast. 

Emma gasps, throwing her head back and he takes the opportunity to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of her throat. She needs to get him back to his ship now. But she also doesn’t have it in her to pull away, not when his hips are rolling against hers in a dirty grind and his fingers are shoving her bra out of the way. 

She hikes her leg over his hip and he groans this time, grabbing hold of her thigh with his hook and keeping her there, the blunt curve of it digging into her ass. His mouth finds hers again, open and heady as he drags his tongue over hers, his breathing ragged. Her hands reach down to slip into his back pockets, pulling him harder against her and holy shit she’s definitely debating letting him fuck her against this wall when suddenly -

“Hey! Hands where I can see them, Hook!” 

Her father’s voice is like a bucket of ice water being dumped on her. Killian freezes for a moment but doesn’t pull back. His lips curl against hers, his laugh puffing against her skin as he removes his hand from under her shirt and holds it up and out over his head.

“Hand and hook!” David calls again and Killian drops her leg to hold his other arm up as well. He kisses her again though and it’s so ridiculous, him standing there with his arms in the air while his lips and body are pressed to hers, her father threatening him from twenty feet away. She feels like a teenager and it should annoy her but it doesn’t, it makes her laugh. She never got this. She’s not saying she wants this kind of thing to happen all the time but she supposes there are still opportunities for her to get those childhood memories she missed out on. 

“Good man,” David says before letting himself be dragged away by Snow. His own hands start to trail a little too low on her mom’s back and Emma shouts at him. 

“Hands where I can see them, Dad!” David’s hands shoot straight up, like a perp, and she laughs. This whole thing, this whole night, has been ridiculous. 

She slides her hands up across Killian’s back, wraps her arms around him and he kisses her once more, softer this time. “Thank you,” she says when he pulls back, tilting her head up to press her lips to his cheek. He bites his lip, smiling.

“Hmm. Well, perhaps some gratitude is in order…”

“You’ve used that line before,” she teases him. 

He sighs. “Swan, your father poured an entire bottle of rum into me, forgive me if I resort to tried and true lines I know will work.” 

“Pretty cocky,” she tells him, arching a brow and then regretting it immediately when she realises the opening she just gave him - well, not really regretting it. 

He ruts his hips against hers and her breath hitches. “Oh, you have no idea.” 

“Actually,” she answers, her voice catching a little. “I have a very good idea. So how about you take me home, sailor?” 

“You’re full of good ideas,” he says, leaning in.

“Even date night with my parents?” she jokes and he halts before his lips touch hers, huffing out a laugh. 

“Aye, even date night with your parents.” He kisses her softly and smiles sweetly at her. “It wasn’t so bad. I think your father might even be beginning to approve of me.” His grin turns sinful then and his fingers come up to brush over her bottom lip, continuing a trail down her chin to her neck and chest and stomach. 

“Although right now,” he starts, brow ticking up at the way her stomach flutters under his touch and her back arches slightly. “I think I’d like to take you back to my ship and do a few things to you that he definitely would not approve of.” 

#cs fanfic #cs prompt #anonymous #snowing #snowing fluff #cs smut adjacent #asks