#i was also just thinking about how much and how easily we've heard them say i love you to each other and how much they talk about how much

[elloras]

do you ever just get emotional about how much brett and phil love each other

#brett goldstein #phil dunster #i've been listening to other episodes of ftbbw #and like i guess i thought the kind of giggly excited smiley childlike side to him we see with phil was just him all the time #because that's what we tend to see with tl press. and like he's no less lovely with guests he doesn't know as well! #it's a joy listening to him interview people because he's always so compassionate and interested in drawing them out and all that #but like it's throwing into contrast just how downright *giddy* he was with phil and like a kid on sugar lmao. and maybe some of that was #it just being a live show. but he also definitely doesn't talk about sex as much with other guests lmaooo #i was also just thinking about how much and how easily we've heard them say i love you to each other and how much they talk about how much #they love each other and i feel like we do hear phil talk a lot more about how much he loves brett and definitely doesn't help that we #didn't get to even hear from brett for 1/3rd of all tl press but brett loves phil so much and i'm just so #i'm really weepy about it lmao #ted lasso #royjamie #roy x jamie #(this time it really isn't about them other than how that real life dynamic lends itself to the characters but tagging them #just for the audience lol)

[flemingsfreckles]

Be a Good Teammate pt.3

Jessie Fleming x USWNT!Reader (also Seattle!Reader)

Read Part 1, Part 2

Preview: You and Jessie face off in the NWSL

Warnings: very minor injury, bloody nose

WC: 3.6k

A/N: okay so I sort of lied, this was supposed to be the part where they grab dinner but then I sat down to write it and it was going to be way too long for one part, so here’s part 3. Part 4 will be the dinner, I promise.

A short day later and here you were, lined up in the tunnel, staring at the back of Nikki’s head while you shook out your legs, alternating side to side. You hated standing in the tunnel before a game, it gave you too much time to think. Thinking about all the details, all the moves, all the plays. You easily got into your own head, you worked yourself up. Even though you knew all those feelings would disappear as the game started, you couldn't shake the feelings. This time, it was especially bad, the words of your coach running through your mind. You couldn't let her down, you had promised you’d have your act together, and you did, you thought. Practice yesterday was a little rocky but you were back to playing closer to yourself, it felt comfortable again. 

You heard the noise of boots against the concrete and you saw Sinc walk up, leading the rest of her team to line up next to yours. You watched the back of the first three players walk by following in line before you recognized the back of Jessie’s head. She ends up stopping only slightly in front of you. Keeping your head forward, you let your eyes wander over to her, not wanting to make it obvious you were looking over at her to the players behind you. Looking up and down you take in her frame for the first time since in San Diego. As if she can feel your eyes burning a hole through the back of her head you see her begin to turn in your direction. Not wanting her to see that you had been watching her, you snap your head down, looking at the floor and pretending to shake out your ankle again. 

You pick your head back up but keep your eyes glued to the back of Nikki’s head. You can see in your peripheral that Jessie’s head is still turned toward you. Giving in, you turn slightly instantly making eye contact with her. The eye contact only lasts a moment as she spins back to face forward and you do the same.

Both captains begin walking forward, you follow in line through the tunnel before splitting off to each side of the pitch. You line up, stand through the national anthem, take your starting XI photo and then stand around as the captains meet with the officials.

“Are you and Jess friends again?” Jordyn asked as you both stood watching the officials talk with Sinclair and Fishlock. 

“I don’t know, we've talked a bit recently, but friends I don't know.” Yes you wanted to sit here and tell Jordyn that you were friends but you didn't know how Jessie felt about calling you friends again so you weren't going to assume you were. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, she mentioned you talked with her after the gold cup game and then just saw you two doing weird staring in the tunnel.”

“I wasn't staring.” You try to defend yourself but Jordyn begins heading to her pitch location, you follow running to the far side of the pitch. You look across the pitch to the other side, seeing Jessie standing across from you, you should not be surprised but it just kicked in that you'd be marking her most of the game, again.

The first half of the game goes about as smooth as you could hope, you feel like yourself again playing. That isn't to say the game itself is easy, Jessie was keeping you on your toes, most of the time you were able to keep up with her, only once letting her get a perfect long pass, leading to a goal. The score was 1-0 in favor of Portland as you headed into the locker room. 

The mood of your teammates varied, some of them frustrated, some annoyed, others showing little to no emotion as you entered the locker room. You couldn't help but feel a bit out of place, you were feeling satisfied, dare you say a little proud of your performance, Portland is a good team, you were keeping up for the most part. Specifically you had been playing like you knew you could. Your teammates were spread across the locker room stretching, snacking, talking to each other, you took the break to sit down off to the side, sipping from a gatorade. Your coach came walking over, stopping in front of your cubby.

“Are you doing alright today?” She kept her voice low, out of ear shot of any of your fellow players.

“Yeah, I feel like myself again.” You're hoping she noticed as well and that she wasn't about to break the news that you'd be subbed out for the second half, a small pit of nerves starting to grow in your stomach.

“It looks like it, you're doing well, I know Fleming can be hard to mark, not much you could do on the long ball. I just still wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“I’m good.” She doesn’t say anything else to you, turning away to go talk with the other coaches. You continue to keep to yourself, waiting for the rest of halftime to be over.

You head out on the pitch and the game starts back up again. In the same fashion that Jessie had, a couple minutes in you're able to get the ball away from her and enough clearance to send it long toward the goal, bouncing off the head of Jordyn and into the goal. You run, celebrating in the arms of Jordyn and Alana. 

The game continues on, not much excitement, no goal scoring chances being made by either team. The ball goes out off the foot of your teammate. The ball is thrown in, bouncing up off a Portland player sending it high in the air in your direction. In an attempt to knock it to a teammate you jump, Jessie having the same idea, also jumps. Her body crashes into yours, her head coming into contact with your face as you both come down.  Upon your feet coming back to the ground you drop to your knees, hand covering your nose as the pain makes your eyes begin to water. The ball no longer in your section of the field Jessie doesn't move far from you. She places her hand on your back and sends a shout to the official to get them to pause play.

“I’m so sorry.” You hear her say, you don't see her as your eyes are clamped shut in an attempt to ease the pain coming from your nose. 

You hear the whistle and before you know it the training team is kneeling next to you, trying to pull your hand off of your face. You only open your eyes when they start talking to you, asking if you're okay. You glance at your hand, seeing the trails of blood running down your palm and dripping into the grass. You’re handed a water bottle and told to take a sip, you do before spitting it out, the flavor tasting like metal. You get handed a wipe to clean up your hands, nose, lips, and chin where the blood had covered.

The training staff make you sit back on your butt as they continue to look at you. One member of the staff feels up and down your nose, he comments that it doesn't feel broken which you are grateful for, you didn't want to deal with a crooked nose or needing surgery. Rolls of gauze are shoved into your nose and an ice pack is being pushed onto your face causing more pain as they have you hold your head back but you're not going to complain. Now standing over you is Quinn, the rest of the team gathered by the bench chatting. You catch a glimpse of Jessie in the Portland huddle, her head still turned back toward you watching you be tended to. 

“Are you good to stand up?” The trainer to your right asks, she holds out more gauze to you, you take it, placing the bloodied gause from your nose into her gloved hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just some pain.” You stand up with the assistance of Quinn and the trainers. They hold on to you, pulling you off to the side of the pitch.

“You can’t go back in while you're actively bleeding.” 

“I know.” You roll your eyes, hating that rule right now. The pain was bad but it’s not like it was your legs or something essential to playing. You stay standing as you wait, swapping out your gauze once more, less and less blood coming out of your nose. Your team returns onto the pitch, the game resuming. It’s hard having to stand and watch, especially as your team is down a player, tied with only a few minutes to go.

Being down a player does not go in your team's favor as Portland is able to move the ball up the field, slotting it past your keeper and into the goal, taking the lead.

You watch for another two minutes before you take out the gauze in your nose, not replacing it this time as the bleeding has stopped. You turn to the trainer, letting him look at your nose one last time.

“You’re good, no more blood. You're probably going to have two black eyes when you wake up tomorrow though.” The trainer informs you as he takes the ice pack and gauze from you.

You thank him quickly before running and getting the attention of the official to confirm you could re-enter the game. She nods you on and you take off across the pitch. The game only had a few minutes left in regular play. Those minutes end and you now have 8 minutes of stoppage to play through, probably 5 of those being due to your nose. Your team tries to tie it up, having a few shots on goal but to no success as the final whistle blows. 

Instead of immediately going to tell the other team ‘good game’, you head over to the bench, grabbing another ice pack to hold to your face, your nose still throbbing. Ice pack in hand and pressed to your face you start making your way over to some of the Portland players, first seeing your fellow US teammates, then making your way to the other players, most of them asking how your nose is. You tell everyone its fine, adding that it's hopefully not broken.

Once you've talked with the majority of Portland and had your own teammates check in on you, you see Jessie standing with her fellow Canadians from both her team and yours. You haven't yet gotten to talk with Jessie, congratulate her on the assist and the well played game. Not wanting to interrupt her conversation with Quinn, Jordyn, Sinc, and Janine you just stand off to the side, trying not to make it obvious that you are waiting for her.

Jessie notices you standing alone, she excuses herself from her national teammates, stating she needs to go apologize.

“Hey.” Jessie approaches you, a sympathetic smile on her face. “How’s the nose?” She gestures to the ice pack you're holding.

“It hurts.” You state the obvious looking back at her. “They don't think it's broken though so that's good.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She apologizes for the second time today.

“It's fine Jessie, seriously don't worry about it, we both went for the ball.” You know she wouldn't intentionally have hit you, even if you were no longer friends, she wasn't like that. “Now if it was broken, I’d feel different.” You joke at her.

“You’ll probably have a nice black eye or two tomorrow eh?”

“That's what I’ve been told.” You hoped that everyone's statements wouldn't be true but you knew you were likely to wake up with a shiner, feeling the under of your eyes already a bit swollen. You both stand there, letting silence creep up, not knowing what to say next. You take the ice pack off your face, holding it in your hand as it is losing its temperature. Jessie takes a sip from her water bottle, just looking at you.

“Hey are we getting a UCLA alumni jersey swap?” The silence between you is broken and you both turn to see the Thorns social media manager standing in front of you, a large camera around his neck. You look down at your jersey, checking if any blood had gotten on it earlier in the game, thankfully there isn't any. Not knowing what to say you turn back to look at Jessie.

“I mean we can, if you want?” Shrugging her shoulders as she says it, it appears she doesn’t care either way. Part of you wishes she did care, you want her to want to swap jerseys with you. 

“Why not?” Agreeing, you move one hand to the collar of your shirt, the other to your back pulling it up and over your head. Jessie does the same only she pulls hers from the bottom causing it to turn inside out. She goes to hand it to you and realizes it’s inside out, quickly taking it back as she twists it to be right.

You watch her carefully as she manipulates the fabric, you couldn’t help it. Her toned stomach and shoulders on display without her shirt, the way her forearm muscle popped out as she worked to fix the shirt. You hear the click of the camera and realize it’s going to be obvious you were staring in the photo. You glance away not needing any more evidence of your crush.

Jessie reaches out, this time with her jersey the right way and you pass her yours. You both grab the tops of them, holding them out in front of you to display each other's name and number. Once the photographer takes a few photos you turn back toward Jessie, bunching up the shirt before putting it over your head and your arms in. She does the same with your shirt. You’re hit with the smell of Jessie. Sure it was mixed with the smell of her sweat but it still smelled just like her. It reminded you of being in college, even the sweat part, you had spent plenty of time together you both drenched in sweat that it brought fond memories to the surface.

Memories of laying on the field after practice just enjoying the sun, driving together to and from practice, windows down in the car, nights spent studying in hotel room floors on away trips, all of the memories of you and her, all attached to that smell.

“Thanks girls.” The camera man turns away walking over to where Jessie's teammates were starting to make their way around and into the locker room.

“I should probably go.” Jessie turns to see her teammates heading in. 

“Yeah of course.” You debate telling her you'll see her later for your dinner plans but decide against it, not wanting to bring it up on the spot. 

You turn to head to your own locker room. You sit through a quick team meeting, which consists of a quick recap of the game, where everyone did well and where there needs to be improvement. Your coach informs you that she’s canceling practice for the following morning, wanting everyone to have the day to recover and take a break. A few of the players begin to make arrangements to travel home that night no longer having an obligation to stay in Portland for an extra day. Your roommate was one to decide to leave, meaning you'd have a quiet hotel room to come back to at the end of the night. The meeting ends and everyone scatters, some girls going to get showers, some packing up, some going to begin their recovery.

You head to the physio room, they look over your nose again, confirming that they don't believe it's broken. You get handed some pain meds, told to keep icing it on and off, and to meet back with the trainers tomorrow before you head home. You hop off the table, and grab another ice pack on your way back to the changing room.

Returning to your cubby, you start grabbing your towel and clothes to shower and change. You curse yourself earlier for wearing jeans as your pregame outfit. As you grab your clothes out of your bag you see your phone light up. Grabbing it you begin reading the texts. 

Jessie (USA): Any chance I could get a raincheck on going out?

The text from Jessie stared back at you. The excitement drains from your body, your heart feeling heavy as you read it over and over. 

Jessie (USA): Sorry to cancel our plans, just not feeling going out after the game, would much rather throw on sweats and sit on the couch.

You understood, of course you did, having just ran around with her the whole 90, you can see why she’s tired. Your legs are starting to feel tight, you always run more than usual when you’re marking Jessie who seems to easily cover 95% of the field. The weather probably didn’t help either, no one wants to get dressed up to go out after running around in the cold all afternoon. You couldn’t lie, sweatpants sounded perfect right about now. 

Jessie (USA): Can we do takeout at my place or something instead?

Relief washes over your body as you realize she still wants to see you.

Jessie (USA): Sorry for all the texts.

“Yo Fleming get your head out of your phone, I’m talking to you.” Your head snaps up at the mention of Jessie’s name. You see Jess Fishlock staring at you. You look at her confused.

“What?” You’re more responding to the fact that she just referred to you as Fleming and less asking for her to repeat what she had said to you previously. She grabs her own jersey top, giving it a tug before pointing at your chest, you connect the dots seeing why she called you what she did, you’re still wearing Jessie’s shirt.

“We’re going out, we lost but we still want to enjoy the trip, are you in?” She repeats her question to you, a couple other members of the team now watching you awaiting your response.

“No, I actually have plans.” A collection of  ‘ooo’ and a couple whistles come from your teammates around you.

“Must be a hot date with whoever she’s been texting so damn much.” Jess’ wife, Tziarra, teases.

“She was texting someone on the bus ride too, smiling at her phone and everything.” You shoot a glare at Alana who shouts out from across the dressing room. Your face is now starting to blend in to match the red thorns jersey.

“It’s not a date, I’m just catching up with Jessie.” 

“Hard to argue that it's not a date when you're wearing her jersey. Just saying.” Tziarra comments, her eyebrows raising with a hinting look. 

Not responding, you take the collar of the Thorns jersey and rip it over your head, throwing it with some force into your locker.

“Not a date, we’re not even really friends.” You emphasize throwing your hands out in display that you no longer had her shirt on. 

You grab your towel and phone, opening it to respond to Jessie.

You: Yeah that's fine, I wouldn’t want to be having to ask our server for a bag of ice every 20 minutes anyway.

You put your phone back into your cubby and head to the shower. You take a quick shower, rushing a bit, wanting to get out of the stadium and back to the hotel so you could put on sweats that you had waiting for you. You hop out, wrapping yourself in a towel and head to get changed. 

Jessie (USA): Do you still like Thai food? I know a pretty good place.

You:  Yeah that's great. We're headed back to the hotel in the next few and then I can head your way.

You put your phone back and let your towel fall, change into your clothes and then sit down waiting for the rest of your team to be ready to leave. 

It only takes a few minutes until everyone is walking out to the bus. Thinking you'll have a seat alone again you prop your legs up again. Your lounging state only lasts a minute before Fishlock is picking up your legs, throwing herself down in the seat next to you.

“Not friends and not a date huh?”

“I told you earlier no, She and I just got back into contact.” Trying your best to stop the teasing that you fear will never end from your team.

“Where are you going to dinner? Is she taking you somewhere romantic?”

“We’re not going out anywhere, we're doing takeout.” Jess lets out a laugh at your response, quickly covering her own mouth.

“So not a date, you're just going over to her place? Whatever you say.” You see her eyes roll. She leans over and whispers. “Hope you packed some cute underwear.” You hear the comment but it doesn't comprehend what she was implying. 

“She has a girlfriend.” The only words you think to respond, not having anything else to defend yourself with. You prop your legs back up on her since she was the one to move them, if she wanted to sit there she'd have to deal with it. You grab your phone seeing Jessie had sent you her address and a message to just let her know when you had arrived. You feel nerves begin to rise in your stomach, you're not sure why though, like you said, she has a girlfriend, it's not a date.

#jessie fleming #portland thorns #jessie fleming imagine #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso imagine #woso x reader

[iicarused]

More on that whole Alastor having a spouse thing (spoilers for ep5).

A dynamic I've had rotating in my mind is of Alastor having a partner who died and went to hell with him. They represent the stereotypical couple from their time and all around are just happy, despite being in hell. Before they died Al's darling helped him cover up his crimes. Being his alibi, lying to people and cleaning up any messes he might have accidentally left behind. Even on occasions helping him cook or even back using the meat he hunted for. And when they both eventually kicked the bucket they held those values as they did when they were alive.

From an onlookers perspective they come off as a couple who's madly in love with one another, still holding that adoration towards each other through the decades they've been together. They dance together, they hold hands, they kiss… But it's not love. Ok, let me rephrase that for you. They gouge out other people's eyes out of jealousy, they pick their next victims together, they have eachothers back through thick and thin. It's not love, it's deeper.

The thing about those two is that no one can really understand them, as cheesy as that sounds. It gives them a sense of solidarity, that there is no one else for them because there is no one else like them. They are the only ones they would consider… Equals. Heh, one of the reasons why they're so intertwined with each other is because they're both just so terrible. His darling spouse just seems more negotiable, but their passiveness is a ruse. Coming of as motherly/fatherly (whatever the gender neutral term is) easily reeling in any weak minded sinners. Their diabolical antis have Alastor weak. HAH, the demon/angel, whoever has Alastor on contract wishes they had this amount of power over him because he, is, whipped.

Oh, and we can't forget the hotel's residents finding out about Al's little darling doe. Either it was Alastor who mentioned them or Mimzy did through her retelling of how Al rose to power. Or they already meet them (Husker, Niffty), but nevertheless the crew has only heard good things about you. Much to their surprise considering how self centered the dear demon is, while Vaggie is weirded out by this her girlfriend is happy and wishes to meet them someday/night. And when they do meat? They weren't very surprised, they kinda already had an image of who they were due to Alastor's ramblings.

.

.

.

Holding you close he kisses your neck where the burn marks are most visible. You can feel his everlasting smile tugging into a frown against your skin, the mere thought of you taking your own life still makes him sick. How afraid you must have been without him. You lean back cupping his cheek with your hand looking deep into his sorrowful eyes. An unfamiliar look for the usually dapper man, it didn't suit him.

“There's no need to get so worked up over old scars dear, I don't, so why should you? Besides, I'm here now aren't i?”

At your words the radio demon saged and let out a content sigh, his lovely smile returning.

“Your right” he said, kissing the inside of your palm before returning back to snuggling with his lover.

…

I can't imagine the reader not having a twang to their voice, their own vibe, not radio per say but something like from this youtube clip. It probably wouldn't make sense for them to sound like that but I couldn't get it out of my head.

If there's one thing I love , it's when others explore the relationship between the two individuals before they went six feet down under. And one of those versions that i quite enjoy is Deer Dolly by ohproserpine check em out. And also, Where do I begin? on ao3 (be warned, for there is implication of SA in it, nothing too graphic but still, protective Alastro being protective, love it).

I think the appeal of Alastor was how different he was (except for in the creepy ass twink department, we've got plenty of those). Mainly in the way he was presented. “a show made independently, and the voice actors are making streams talking in their characters voices? Ö”. And everyone just ran with what they had, we were given just enough to fall for the colorful cast, enough to make fan content before the pilot was out. Like the dad jokes, fan animations, Alastor saying darling~ and the many accounts of them flustering Ashley, among other things :) (all the letters are links, haven't seen some of these in years dafuq). I'm surprised that not many people use what they said in the streams in their writings, I'd wish to see more of that. There's some real gold in there to be utilized.

But anyways, back to the topic at hand. There's always been one song I've associated Alastor with, since I was like 15 to16 years old, and it's something has to happen. Can't help but imagine a chase sequence whenever I listen to it, and I recently found some more inspiration in the form of this! and that.

.

.

.

He could smell the fear radiating from his prey, they ran with haste, trying to put distance between them and their pursuer. The demon chuckled to himself at their persistence. Such a lively prey they were, truly, he couldn't wait to hold them close to his chest, to trap them in the grip of his teeth, tearing tissue and bones in his jaws. Oh He loves them, he hunts them.

…

Man, I remember back in the day there were so many stories revolving around Alastor appearing in the living world to torment his darling, or to make a meaningful connection with them. But I've never seen one where his darling is his accomplice, helping him spread his “curse” onto unsuspecting victims. I got this idea from this piece of artwork by lanveril.

i remember the days of that too! it was such a great time of alastor and obsession fics yknow, but also small??? since it was just the pilot and we had a lot to toy around with. but you are so right about him and his s/o being a cheesy couple.

the sweetest couple on the block who seem very normal and overall a prime example of love. “darling, i have the meat!” and you would beckon him in the kitchen with a sweet smile so you could prepare it.

i think he would be a cliche husband, but also one who enjoys a little rough housing form time to time.

i had to gatekeep this ask for awhile mb LMFAOO i loved it so much😭

#★* #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[swamp-adder]

Like many fans I've always had issues with Holmes' retirement in canon... not just the separation from Watson but the fact that he always loved detective work so much and it's just hard for me to think of a non-depressing reason why he decided to retire so early in life, move away from everything he loves and focus all his time on some random new hobby that we've never heard about before. I mean even though he's a solitary guy I just have a hard time believing Holmes would actually want to move out to the middle of nowhere where he can't easily go and see concerts whenever he wants.

I know some fic writers try to make sense of it by positing that he had a transformative experience during the Hiatus where he learned how to relax and find true happiness and emotional fulfillment by living a peaceful life appreciating nature instead of doing morbid stuff like obsessing over murders and risking his life all the time, but I dunno... it's not exactly that I find this unbelievable and more that the idea of Sherlock Holmes as a zen nature lover who couldn't be truly happy until he quit being a detective just doesn't appeal to me very much lol.

So how about this alternative theory:

Holmes is sick of being famous and having people hassle him all the time for interviews/autographs/etc (THAT part I can definitely believe). Around 1903 he gets fed up and decides to leave Baker St and secretly move to another location in London, possibly even under the thin façade of an assumed name to keep the neighbors from asking too many questions. (Maybe Mrs. Hudson also retired from landladying around this time and that was part of the impetus for him to leave.) For a while he'll go back to being primarily a "consulting" detective, taking cases from a few Scotland Yard inspectors or government officials who can be trusted with his new address. He had previously banned Watson from publishing any more stories about him, precisely to avoid growing his fame even further; but now he says, "You can publish more stories, but only on the condition that you tell them I'm retired and not living in London anymore." Then Watson is like "How should I say you're spending your retirement?" and Holmes is like "IDK, keeping bees?" as like a random joke. Either that or Watson made up all the "peaceful life of a country beekeeper" stuff to twit Holmes because it's the complete opposite of what he actually enjoys.

Of course eventually people will start piecing together the truth, so Watson writes "The Lion's Mane" to further push the story (and/or as another joke, making it deliberately ridiculous to see if people will still buy it).

Eventually, sometime after the war, Holmes does retire for real; but he stays in London (maybe at still a third address, to shake off the people who managed to track him down last time). He spends his days doing chemical work and writing his book on detection and going out to concerts every night. Watson may or may not live with him, but in any case he's also still in London and they see each other all the time. The end.

#sherlock holmes #acd holmes #watson as unreliable narrator

[miheartsedthings]

NEW NSFW Alphabet ~ Headcanon~ Billy Hargrove

Minors DNI

SO, I've taken the liberty of changing this up a bit. I've redesignated some of these letters because I think we've all seen the old ones so many times. Also, I think these changes could be more interesting for Billy in particular. Mind you not All of these are different, just some.

Enjoy

A- Aftercare (What is he like right after sex?)

Billy is attentive. He knows how rough he can be so after he's calmed down, he takes care to make sure you're okay. This can look like verbal check ins or bringing you water and towels. He'll make sure you're safe and comfortable.

B- Body Count

Billy gets around. He stopped counting after 30.

C- Cum

Billy likes it inside you. Rather that be your mouth or elsewhere, he likes the idea of the essence of himself being in you. On your chest is a close second.

D- Dirty Talk

Billy is big on dirty talk. He gets really into it and can't help telling you how good you feel and giving orders (stroke that c*ck, baby). He has no problem telling you what he plans to do to you.

E- Easy (Does he play hard to get?)

Billy is usually easy. The only exception is if you're desperate. Then, he'll tease you, making you beg and tell him how badly you want him.

F- Fight

Arguments with Billy don't typically turn into sex, believe it or not. When he's actually angry, Billy doesn't feel safe, and if he doesn't feel safe he's not getting aroused. He's much more likely to say something to embarrass you and then storm off.

G- "Good Girl"

Sex being one of the few times he can be openly affectionate, Billy showers you with praise. He's a big fan of telling you what you're good at, how nice you taste, how good you're doing. Etc.

He likes when you tell him how he's making you feel, and he LOVES to hear you say you're all his.

H- Hickey

YES, he loves giving you hickeys, all over your body but especially in places where people can see them. When you give him a hickey he wears it like a badge of honor. (Side note, this just gave me an idea for a story 😘)

I- Intimacy

Billy really enjoys intimacy and feeling loved by you, he just has trouble verbalizing it. He expresses love physically, he wants to touch and kiss and fondle you to show his affections. He's also slower to anger with you and will show up around you.

You know how cats pretend they don't care about you and then just "happen" to be in the same room as you all the time? Yeah, that's Billy. He just happens to show up to parties you're attending, even parties you're throwing that he wasn't invited to.

He crashed a wedding you attended because he heard you didn't have a plus one.

J- Jealous

Does it even need to be said? Billy will get jealous if your gaze lingers on a poster too long. He's a walking nightmare to any guy who looks your way. He's your scary dog privilege.

When he gets jealous there's a 50/50 chance that he's just as mad at you as the other person. Sometimes he views you as too innocent to notice other people lusting after you. At other times he accuses you of having a wandering eye.

It takes a long time to talk him out of his jealousy, but it always comes back to reminding him that he's good enough and you aren't going anywhere. After a jealous episode he's usually feeling vulnerable. Kisses help.

K- Kick (Something he's always kicking himself for)

Billy regrets the times you've seen him lose control of his anger. He wishes he could've been better when you met so you didn't have to see any of that and he could've avoided hurting you. Now that he's growing he just wishes he could've been a better man for you in the beginning.

L- Location

Billy is fond of car sex. He likes to get you in the backseat and put down a towel to protect the seats. He also likes to get you alone at a party with the music to cover the sounds.

M- Motivation

Billy gets turned on easily. He loves when you try to flirt with him, even if you're bad at it. If you're bad at it then he just teases you about your crumby game and watches you get flustered which he finds extremely cute.

He loves you in skirts and halter tops. He loves seeing you naked in his leather jacket. He'll pretty much f*ck you at the drop of a hat.

N- No

No scat, no golden showers, no sounding.

O- Oral

Billy is a big fan. BIG BIG fan of oral, both giving and receiving. In a way he's more proud of his skills with his tongue than with his stick. In a way it feels like more of an accomplishment to know how to use just your mouth and fingers to get someone off.

P- Position

His favorite position is cowgirl, believe it or not. (More on this later) A close second is having you flat on your stomach. He likes to have you like that with an arm around your neck, mostly because it quickly overwhelms you and he loves seeing you like that.

Q- Quickie

Billy is down for a quickie in theory. In practice he's more likely to just make you late to wherever you're supposed to be.

R- Risk

Billy likes a healthy level of risk. Like I mentioned he likes having sex at parties, but he'll also sneak into a bar or restaurant bathroom with you. Back row at a movie theater is a fun one.

S- Sloppy

Billy gets sloppy sometimes, maybe if he's drunk. He likes fingering you when you're really wet.

T- Time

Billy likes sex pretty much whenever, but his FAVORITE time is the middle of the night. If you find yourself up late with him you're going to get your cheeks clapped. This is also true if he wakes up in the middle of the night. And don't let there be a thunderstorm, Lord help you.

U- Unfair

Billy likes to tease you, fluster you, overwhelm you, make you say please, make you say exactly what you want before he gives it to you. Jerk.

V- Volume

Billy isn't shy about his sounds, he'll let you and the people next door know how he's feeling.

W- Weakness

When you ride him he falls to pieces, (see, told you we'd come back to it.) particularly when you get up on your feet and squat down on him. Combine that with a hand around his throat and he's done for.

X- Xenial (Is he hospitable?)

Billy wants you to feel safe and comfortable when you're with him. At first, he doesn't know how to go about it besides having stereotypical "girl" stuff around.

He also mistakes looking out for you and "keeping you safe" for being bossy. He'll try to tell you who to hang out with, how much to drink, and where to go because he wants to take care of you. Needless to say this causes problems.

At the end of the day, if you need anything all you have to do is ask.

Y- Yearning

Billy has a high sex drive, but it doesn't have to be penetration every time. He likes all kinds of sexual behavior and will thoroughly enjoy it every time.

Z- Zone

Billy wants above all else to just share space with you. It doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing, as long as you're safe and happy it's the perfect place for him.

Thanks for reading 😘

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #billy hargrove smut #fanfic #sea swallow me #billy hargrove 18+ #billy hargrove imagine #alphabet #headcanon

[ineffable-endearments]

Hello, everyone!

In light of Neil Gaiman's comment that Amazon is close to officially renewing Good Omens but hasn't done so yet, I think those of us who can should start sending physical postcards to Amazon Studios!

The TL;DR of this post is that you can easily send a postcard from MyPostcard.com for about $3 (USD, I'm sure other currencies can vary). The Web site will print and mail it for you, so you don't have to do any printing or mailing yourself. The postage is included in the $3.

If you don't already have an image or card you want to use, you can just use one of mine above. Some of them are small because of small source images, but the site seems to resize them appropriately for the card. There are bigger versions in a Google Drive folder that you shouldn't have to be logged in to see.

You can send the postcards asking for a third season of Good Omens addressed to Jennifer Salke and Vernon Sanders, co-heads of Amazon Studios, at:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

@fuckyeahgoodomens was the first to post this contact information for Amazon, so thank you, Ixi.

If it's something you don't mind, I would very deeply appreciate reblogs on this, since it works better if lots of people see it! No pressure if you don't want to, though.

And if you have Questions, click through below for my reasoning on all this.

Why should we send postcards to Amazon Studios?

We've made lots of noise online about renewal, and we've done a lot of streaming Good Omens. But I haven't seen much discussion of sending physical mail or, specifically, postcards.

Mail takes up space in the real world. It's slightly harder to ignore than email. It's way more attention-grabbing than posts on X or Tumblr or any other social media site. Because postage is required, physical mail can also appear more "committed."

Postcards specifically are great because of their convenience for the recipient. No one has to open them to read them. All it takes is a quick glance to see what we're asking for, and realistically, a quick glance is the best we can ask for in a corporate office. That's why I'm emphasizing postcards over regular letters (although really, anything helps).

Is sending postcards really going to motivate Amazon to make more Good Omens?

Postcard and letter-writing campaigns have helped get shows renewed in the past. Star Trek: The Original Series is a good example of a series that got another season after a letter-writing campaign. This article has more examples.

We don't actually know what's going on in Good Omens's case. Maybe postcards would make a difference; maybe they wouldn't. We can only make our most determined effort at making sure we're heard, and sending mail is part of that.

The cost of sending a postcard is too much for me.

I understand that sending a postcard will not be an option for many of us. This post isn't intended to try to push you into spending money you don't have. If you still want to find a way to participate, you can also send an email to [email protected] with your comments about wanting Good Omens 3. It's not physical mail, but it is still a personal message from a customer.

In fact, people who are sending postcards might want to follow up with an email, too.

Do we have to use your postcard designs?

No! Not necessarily! You can use anything.

As long as the message you write includes how much you want Good Omens 3, your postcard's image doesn't necessarily have to relate. You could send a souvenir postcard that says "Greetings from Los Angeles, CA / Tadfield, England / etc" from your local post office and just write your message on the back.

Technically, even a plain index card should be thick enough to mail as a postcard, at least by USPS standards. Just write your desire for Good Omens 3 on it, put a stamp and Amazon's address on it, and make sure it's at least 90mm x 127mm (3.5in x 5in).

Isn't Amazon Studios going to notice a bunch of postcards being mailed from the same Web site?

I'm sure they will. But the messages will each be unique, and again, they'll know each card represents a person who had to order the card and postage themselves.

Speaking of unique messages, what should I write?

One sentence is enough. Definitely indicate that you want Season 3 of Good Omens. If you want to add more, you could also write a sentence or two about how much you love the series so far.

Above all, be polite and straightforward! Remember that sarcasm and jokes often do not come across well in print, so it may be best to stick with simple statements that can be taken at face value.

What address should the cards go to?

The co-heads of Amazon Studios appear to be Vernon Sanders and Jennifer Salke; you can address them by name, although I'm guessing it will be someone else who does the reading/glancing.

Amazon Studios's address is:

AMAZON STUDIOS 1620 26TH STREET, SUITE 4000N SANTA MONICA, CA 90404 USA

Where did you get these images?

The images for the nightingale postcard and the Crowley postcard are screencaps from directedbypiper.

The Please Do Not Lick the Walls and Fell the Marvelous posters were downloads from the Amazon X-Ray feature.

The Nice and Accurate Prophecies postcard was adapted from cover art I did for A Nice and Interpretive Fanzine. Most of it is my own, although the mottled background is an extremely blurred version of a free stock texture from Pixabay, users chrisfiedler and/or humusak.

The bookshop postcard is a promotional image from Amazon used in a Den of Geek article.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #renew good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

[ontologicalsynaesthesia]

Queer Metaphor and Queer Literality

People have been comparing Our Flag Means Death and Good Omens a lot, but the similarity that stands out most to me is on the meta level of how they do their storytelling. I think they both feel like a similar flavor of meaningful queer story because they depict queerness at both a literal and a metaphorical level, where the positive elements occur at the literal level and the negative elements are depicted through metaphor.

On a literal level, both series are full of explicitly, textually queer characters who have actual romances with kissing and everything. Characters can be trans and express their gender in non-normative ways without reprecussions (mostly). There's almost no depiction of overt homophobia onscreen. I'm not sure whether Neil Gaiman or anyone else involved in GO has talked about this choice, but I know David Jenkins has said that he wanted to avoid making the characters in OFMD constantly deal with homophobia and queer trauma. It's not that they take place in queernorm worlds, exactly; it's more that the bad stuff largely happens offscreen. (I've addressed this in an OFMD meta about season 1.)

But the thing is, neither show actually shies away from depicting homophobia and queer trauma - it's just that they happen at the metaphorical level.

In GO2, both Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship to heaven and hell is, metaphorically, that of queer people to a stiflingly heteronormative society that will never truly let them belong and be themselves at the same time. They find community in each other - they are the only people in the world who have experienced the things they've experienced (and isn't that a relatable queer feeling!), and they also find community in queer humans, in a way. But to their home societies that originally gave them belonging and purpose, they're outcasts, and that's very lonely for both of them. They both deal with this very differently; Crowley abandons heaven and hell entirely and embraces his outcast-hood and independence (even though it's still lonely), while Aziraphale still longs for that sense of belonging and eventually decides to try to assimilate again (even though he can't really be himself there).

There's a lot more you can say about metaphorical queerness in GO (like in this recent Tor.com article). But basically, Crowley and Aziraphale's differing reactions to the ostracism of their native society mirror two different ways a lot of real life queer people respond the ostracism of their native societies, even though Crowley and Aziraphale themselves don't really face explicit homophobia for their queer romance onscreen.

OFMD intertwines the metaphor with the literal in a different way. In a way, piracy is a metaphor for queer community; we've all heard Izzy's "piracy is about belonging to something" line in the trailer (even though we don't know the context yet.) But pirates also commit acts of violence, and most people consider them horrible monsters. Stede and Ed both struggle with feelings of monstrousness that are about their piracy-related actions on the surface; but those feelings are instantly and horribly recognizable to a lot of queer people. Chauncey Badminton's "you defile beautiful things" speech is burned into my brain in part because that's exactly what my internal monologue sounds like sometimes (and I think you can pretty easily interpret that speech as being about Stede being literally queer as much as it's about Stede killing his brother; Badminton comes just short of outright saying it.)

When Stede leaves Ed, Ed dives headfirst into being the monster everyone believes him to be. He hates himself; he thinks he's unlovable; he commits as many atrocities as he can in the hope that someone will put him down, and he'll deserve it. I think he feels that Stede left him because Stede, too, saw him as an irredeemable monster, and he tries to make it true to justify his own self-hatred. Ed's self-destructive rampage is an over-the-top expression, in the context of a pirate story, of some deeply recognizable and relatable queer emotions. It's easy for society to make us feel monstrous; Stede dealt with that by trying to remove his influence from the world and return to the (heterosexual) status quo, and Ed dealt with it by trying to live up to the monstrousness he felt inside himself until it destroyed him.

I think one reason these two shows have been so effective - and been effective in similar ways, to more or less the same group of fans - is that this combination of literal queer joy and metaphorical queer suffering feels like a very deep, authentic, relatable portrayal of queer experience. It's fun and wish-fulfillment-y, and avoids getting too close to the reality of the negative experiences a lot of fans have probably had. But at the same time, it filters those negative, complicated, and familiar experiences through the lens of the fantastical, which gives them a certain clarity and emotional grandeur that they couldn't have in a work more true to life.

I'm pretty skeptical about equating "representation" to quality (I've read a lot of deeply mediocre queer books), and I don't think it's quite accurate that these shows have been so successful simply because they depict queer protagonists in queer romances; I think that take misses something, because in this day and age, there are a lot of queer romances out there and easily accessible. But I think the way queerness is embedded into multiple levels of storytelling in both these shows gives them a lot more depth of meaning and emotion, and I think that's a big part of what fans have latched onto.

#our flag means death #ofmd #good omens #ofmd meta #good omens meta #ofmd stede bonnet #ofmd blackbeard #ofmd os #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd spoilers #ALSO if you like stories that are queer on both literal and metaphorical levels of storytelling #please watch revolutionary girl utena and sarazanmai

[canmom]

reading Herbert Mason's translation of the Epic of Gilgamesh, as you do!

I went with Mason's translation after I saw it quoted here and there and seemed pretty solidly written - but it isn't precisely right to call it a translation, more a retelling of the story as Mason understands it. so it's not a line by line translation, and some major parts of it are presumably interpolations or paraphrases.

i knew the broad outline of the story but it's fascinating to put it in context, and discover parts of the story i hadn't heard about. for example, i didn't realise the concept of droit du seigneur was part of this story - I'd thought that was basically a goofy myth about the medieval period, but here in the oldest surviving written story, it's just a thing the mythological king Gilgamesh does. though the exact translation seems a little contentious - Mason writes:

As king, Gilgamesh was a tyrant to his people.

He demanded, from an old birthright,

The privilege of sleeping with their brides

Before the husbands were permitted

But Wikipedia quotes a different translation by Stephen Mitchell which says:

He is king, he does whatever he wants... takes the girl from her mother and uses her, the warrior's daughter, the young man's bride.

The general thrust is similar in both cases, but the details of the custom are different. I don't have Mitchell's translation so I can't find how he describes the moment Enkidu arrives to interfere with Gilgamesh doing one of these kingly rapes (like let's not beat around the bush here, it's a different social context and whatever but you can't possibly say no to the demigod king).

Moving on...

Viewed with modern eyes, the transition between the first chapter and the second is kind of abrupt. We've got this great establishing story for Gilgamesh and Enkidu having a rather homoerotic fight and becoming best bros, but then we abruptly skip forward to Gilgamesh declaring that they're going to go fight a monster called Humbaba, and Enkidu is all like, no, that guy is way too high level, you'll die! Modern writing advice would hold that you'd want to spend some time building up Gilgamesh and Enkidu's relationship 'on screen' here, and perhaps foreshadow the existence of Humbaba a bit sooner to build up the threat a bit - but then I'm not carving this into stone tablets, I can afford to be a little bit roundabout, and who knows what's been lost? (scholars of the Epic probably have some idea lol)

The word used for Gilgamesh and Enkidu's relationship is 'friend'. This feels like it's probably a bit of a lossy translation to me - would lover/boyfriend be projecting too much? I obviously don't know the nuances of Sumerian that well, so maybe this is the best available word, but their relationship has a lot of physicality and a lot of affection.

The woman who goes to Enkidu in the wild and has a bunch of sex until he becomes civilised is described here as a 'prostitute'. My understanding was that she belongs to a religious role here, harimtu, that's usually translated as 'sacred prostitution' but apparently this identity is contested, and also she has a name, Shamhat? I don't know why Mason doesn't use her name. Shamhat has a pretty big role in changing Enkidu and convincing him to come meet Gilgamesh, but her own motivation isn't really explored.

Still, I don't want to come off as only complaining. Whether they originate in the Epic or with Mason, I'm enjoying a lot of the poetic turns of phrase in this version - the style is just the right level of minimal - simple appropriate words, but effective for that. Mason writes in verse, but doesn't rhyme - I'm not really familiar enough with meter to say more than that. There are a lot of fairly short, declarative sentences, mixed up with an occasional much longer metaphor across multiple lines. I think you could fairly easily delete the line breaks and just have prose, but having them makes it flow in an interesting way, like waves? Poetry is not my bailiwick so I'm probably describing some fairly basic facets of the medium, but it's interesting to observe.

I'll add more when I've read a bit more, I'll be in this train a while...

#gilgamesh #epic of gilgamesh #fiction #translation

[just-a-lil-critter]

Bakugo's Apology Analysis :-

(but it's actually just me crying over my dearest bois and their dynamics)

I love Izuku's blatant show of emotional vulnerability throughout the series. yeah he's a crybaby/nerd/impulsive martyr but for someone who's been relentlessly bullied for so many years he is ridiculously open about his feelings and I admire him so much for it

"I am scared for you, for everyone and what risking everything could do to me, so I will stay away even if it costs me my smile, even if it drains me of all life"

Like hello?? this boy is so exhausted, halfway to death's door and fighting off an actual army of frenemies and still, still cannot bring himself to close his heart, the worst he can think to say is "you can't keep up" and apologises for that too. he doesn't even think to push them away like he should and I *ugly sobs*

The apology *manic cackles*

Ohh the relief. the satisfaction. the completion of a circle literally years in the making.

and Izuku's reaction is just the icing on the cake. I was genuinely worried they might downplay this scene after the whole OP fiasco (Bokurano by Eve is a banger btw) but Bones did not disSAPOINT

look at them. look at Katsuki. head bowed, face-to-face in front of everyone, openly admitting to the horrible things he said, things he did to Izuku in the softest voice we've ever heard from him, running to catch him in the rain and not once asking for forgiveness, only that Izuku come home with him, with them all

"I have done terrible things to you, the kind not easily forgiven, so I do not ask. but you are dear to me and I cannot lose you, even if I am lost to you. so come with us, come back, I will hold your shaking hands and broken body in the hailing rain like a testament and save to win as you win to save"

did anyone else notice this?

when Izuku goes vigilante he's so focused on defeating All For One he completely switches from 'save to win' to 'win to save'. ofc he's doing it to protect everyone but that's not the objective anymore, it's the result.

whereas Katsuki is so fixated on bringing Izuku's overworked dumbass back he doesn't even think about AFO let alone defeating him. his defining moral also does a 180 & becomes 'save to win' instead like ASBHSDHSJDKFS DO YOU GUYS SEE WHAT I MEAN IS THE BRAIN BRAINING TO MY BKDKS??!

In summary, I have lost my leftover sanity, 3 boxes of tissues and so much comfort food y'all oh my god-

to this scene. this one moment in a(surprisingly large) list of bkdk being soulmates, platonic or otherwise ಥ_ಥ

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, have a good day/night, drink some water and fix your goddamn spine you banana shaped fucks<3<3

Also here's the link to my previous post>>

#bnha #bkdk #mha #horikoshi #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya #kacchan #ktdk #my hero academia #deku #vigilante deku #mha anime

[jrob64]

Pet for Rent , Chapter 4/4 (The Happy Ending) A CS Modern AU Story

And so we've reached the end of this little journey. Thank you for reading this story that was one way for me to move through my grief of losing Zeke. Some of you have mentioned that you've lost a pet and reading this has helped you, and that makes me very happy

This chapter earns the story its M rating, but the smut is bracketed by double rows of asterisks and can be easily skipped.

Thanks one more time to @hookedmom, who helped me work out the ending until it was satisfactory to both of us.

Chapter Summary: Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston get their happy ending.

Chapters on Tumblr: Ch. 1 (The Meet Cute) Ch. 2 (The Idea) Ch. 3 (The Adoption)

Rating: M (See note above)

Words: 9319

Also posted to Ao3 and ffn

Story begins under the cut

Winston’s routine between the two households was firmly established during the next month. He spent weekdays with Killian at his apartment, and evenings at Emma and Henry’s house. On the weekends, all four of them spent as much time together as possible.

Emma and Killian were both happy to see that the dog was housebroken and didn’t require a lot of extra work. He did crave attention at times and demonstrated some behaviors that made them think he still had some puppy in him, but the three humans were consistent in their training to stop him from jumping up and barking excessively.

From the very first night he spent with them, he didn’t need to be put outside until morning, and slept soundly on Henry’s bed. The boy and dog formed a fast friendship and once again, Emma had her happy-go-lucky son back. He kept a picture of Ernie on his dresser and mentioned how much he still missed him from time to time, but the joy of having a new dog was healing his heart.

On Fridays and Saturdays, Killian would stay for a few hours after Emma got Henry into bed. They watched television, had lengthy conversations and kissed…a lot. Once they were sure Winston was acclimated to his new environment, they were able to plan another date to eat out and see a movie.

Their relationship was deepening, but they had yet to declare their love for one another. Killian was sure of his feelings for Emma, but didn’t want to spook her by saying anything. Emma wanted to make sure what she felt wasn’t just an infatuation. She had only fallen in love with one other man and had her heart shattered into a million pieces. She couldn’t afford to be wrong about her feelings again, especially since she now had Henry to take into consideration.

The bond between Henry and Killian was getting stronger as well. The two of them watched sporting events on TV, played video games, worked on training Winston and built Lego sets together. Emma was happy her son had a male figure in his life now, but worried about what would happen if Killian decided to move away from Storybrooke.

The first substantial snowfall of the season happened on a Friday in early December. School was letting out at noon due to the storm, which put Emma in a bind. Ashley couldn’t watch him because she was away for the weekend. Emma had already arranged to take off work at three o’clock instead of five, but she wasn’t able to leave another three hours early.

When she considered who else would be willing to help, the next person who came to mind was Killian. As she quickly placed the call, she tapped her fingernails nervously on the desk.

He answered before she even heard it connect. “Swan! This is a nice surprise.”

“You might not think so when I tell you why I’m calling.”

She could hear the instant concern in his voice when he asked, “Is something wrong?”

“They’re letting school out in half an hour because of the weather and Ashley is out of town. I can’t get off work until three o’clock and I need somebody to pick Henry up and watch him until…”

“Calm down, Love,” he interrupted. “Winston and I will pick him up and take him home.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind? I don’t want to take you away from your work…”

“No worries. I’m finished for the day because I already put in extra hours this week.”

“Oh, good,” she said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be picking him up. Since you’re not an authorized pick-up person, you’ll have to go inside to fill out a form when you get there. I’ll also text Mary Margaret and let her know. I really, really appreciate this, Killian.”

“It’s truly no problem, Love. I’ll get Winston ready to go right now. We should be there in about twenty minutes. Will that work?”

“That’s perfect. I need to warn you that it’s probably going to be a bit chaotic in the school office because of the early release.”

“Duly noted. I’ll send you a text when I’ve collected Henry and we’re in the car ready to go home.”

“Thanks, again. You’re a lifesaver.”

Ending the call, she sent up a prayer of thanks and went back to work.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma was right about the chaos in the office. Killian had to wait several minutes before they could verify who he was and hand him a form to complete. Just as he was signing his name at the bottom, Mary Margaret ushered Henry in the door, along with two of her other students, whose parents were also waiting.

“Killian!” Henry cried, spotting him immediately.

“Hello, lad. Your mom asked me to pick you up.”

“Yeah, Mrs. Nolan told me. Thanks!”

“You’ll have to sign him out,” Mary Margaret explained, gesturing to the line of parents who were waiting to do that very thing. “Be careful driving home.”

“Thank you. You do the same,” Killian responded, stepping behind the last person in line.

Once Henry was properly signed out, they slipped and slid through the accumulating snow to where Killian had parked the car. Winston started barking from inside as soon as he caught sight of his boy.

While Henry greeted the dog and got himself buckled in, Killian texted Emma, then started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. So far, the snow was just making the roads slushy, but with such precious cargo in the back seat, he drove with extra caution.

By the time Emma arrived home three hours later, the snow was making travel hazardous. Killian heard her come in the door and paused the video game he and Henry were playing.

She was stomping off her boots and shaking the snow out of her hair when he greeted her. “Did you have any trouble, Love?”

“The roads are terrible and the snow is picking up, which means they’re only going to get worse.”

He helped her out of her coat and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. As she sat on a bench to pull off her boots, he scratched behind his ear and said wistfully, “Perhaps I should just go home now, if they’re getting that bad.”

She glanced up at him, then back down as she finished her task. Once both of her boots were sitting on the rug, she stood and looked toward the living room. “What’s Henry doing?”

“We were playing a video game. He’s probably waiting for me to rejoin him.”

“Let me go say hi to him, then I have something to ask you.”

“Okay, but first…” he said, wrapping his arms around her and giving her a tender kiss. “Welcome home, Love. I’m very glad you made it safely.”

“Mmm, me too, especially when I get a greeting like that.” After giving him one more kiss, she linked their hands and led the way to the living room. Henry was sitting on the couch petting Winston, who was laying beside him. Both of them perked up when the adults entered the room, a wide grin splitting Henry’s face, while Winston thumped his tail on the cushions.

“Hey, kid. How was school today?”

“Great! I wish we could get out early every day!”

Emma laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. Were you able to go to art class? I know how you look forward to it.”

“We still got to go and I finished my Rainbow Fish project. It turned out really good!”

“Oh, yeah? Did you bring it home?”

“No, it had to finish drying. Mrs. Fisher said she wants to hang it up in the hallway.”

“Maybe I’ll schedule a day to come in and have lunch with you, and you can show it to me then. How does that sound?”

“Cool! I love it when you have lunch with me!”

“I know. I love it, too. Let me know when it’s hung up, okay?” She watched him nod his agreement, then asked, “What have you three boys been up to this afternoon?”

“We went out and played in the snow for a little while, but it got too windy and cold. Killian made hot chocolate when we came inside. Winston loved the snow, didn’t you, boy?”

“He was trying to catch all of the snowflakes,” Killian laughed. “Then he started eating the snow on the ground. He’s such a funny pooch.”

“Show her the picture you took, Killian,” Henry urged.

Killian pulled his phone out of his front pocket and opened his photo gallery. Holding it so Emma could see, he said, “I took several pictures and a couple of videos.”

As he started scrolling through them, he didn’t see the doey-eyed look she gave him before directing her attention to what he was showing her. When he came to the last picture, she burst out laughing. In it, Henry was kneeling on the ground beside Winston, who had snow all over his muzzle.

“He looks like he has a white beard,” she giggled.

“Aye, Whitebeard the Weird, distant relative of Blackbeard the Pirate,” Killian chuckled.

Emma laughed again, then asked her son, “Where did you put your wet clothes?”

“Killian put them in the dryer.”

“Henry showed me where it was located.”

“Thank you. He usually lets them lay in a heap inside the door.” Turning back to Henry, she said, “What else did you do?”

He picked up the Nintendo Switch controller, gesturing to the TV with it. “We played video games until you got home.”

“Sounds like you guys had a good time.”

“We did,” Henry assured her. “And don’t worry, Mom. I thanked Killian for everything.”

“Aye, he did. Henry has very good manners, don’t you, lad?” Killian said, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Yeah. Are you ready to finish our game?”

“Your mother wanted to talk to me about something first, then I should probably head home. She said the roads are getting bad.”

Henry’s shoulders drooped. “But I thought you would stay like you always do on Fridays.”

Emma said, “Henry, why don’t you play a game by yourself for a while, so I can talk to Killian?”

“Can I play Mario Kart?”

“You know the rules - only if you turned in all of your homework and didn’t get your card pulled for bad behavior this week.”

He jumped off the couch and grabbed his book bag from the recliner where he had tossed it when he got home. Unzipping it, he pulled out a folder and handed it to his mom.

She took it and pulled out the papers from the ‘keep at home’ side, placing them on the end table to look at later. Then she took a sheet from the ‘return to school’ pocket. After looking it over, she gave Henry a smile and kissed him on the forehead. “Good job, kid. I’m proud of you.”

While he was putting the folder back in his bag, she went to the closet and got the treasured game off the shelf above the coat rack. As soon as he got the game set up and was fully engaged in choosing his racer, Emma motioned for Killian to follow her into the kitchen.

She leaned against the front of the sink out of Henry’s line of sight, and Killian stood in front of her, his hands on her hips. “What did you want to talk to me about, Swan?” he asked, a concerned crease across his forehead.

Her eyes remained focused on the floor for several moments. When she finally looked up, there were tears in them.

He stepped closer, dipping his head to scan her face. “Emma, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she answered quickly. “I just…I…I think I love you.”

Killian’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. I’ve fallen in love with you, Killian Jones.”

He surged forward, claiming the lips that just uttered the words which were music to his ears. He could have kissed her for hours, but he needed to ask her a question. “When?”

“When did I fall in love with you?” she asked, seeking to clarify.

“Aye. When did you know?”

She licked her lips. “I think I’ve been falling for you since the first day we met, but I wanted to make sure it’s really love that I feel. I’ve been burned before, and with Henry to consider, I didn’t want to jump right into a serious relationship. Then today, I just…I realized…I mean, you’re there for me, for us. You’re wonderful with Henry and it…it’s not because you’re trying to impress me or win my affections through my son. You honestly seem to like spending time with him. You dropped everything to pick him up today and then, those videos and pictures…you took videos and pictures of my kid because you were having fun with him.”

She paused for a second and he waited, understanding she needed to gather her thoughts. “But it’s not just because of Henry. That’s important, but it…it’s the way you make me feel. I love every minute we spend together. I can never get enough of being with you. As soon as you leave, I immediately look forward to the next time we’ll see each other. I…I…oh hell, I’m rambling and not making any sense.”

“You’re making perfect sense. I completely understand what you’re trying to say.”

“You do?”

He framed her face with his hands, brushing the apples of her cheeks with his thumbs. “Aye, because I feel the same way. You’re the best part of my day, whether we’re texting, talking, or actually together. I truly do love spending time with Henry because he’s such a great kid and I would never use him to try to impress you, Emma.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “I’ve known for a while, too. That I love you. I’m in love with you, Emma Swan.”

The brightness of her smile was nearly blinding and it was her turn to initiate the fiery kiss. Afterwards, they stood with their foreheads pressed together, while her fingers played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck. “Can I ask you something?” she whispered.

“Of course, Love. Anything.”

She looked into his eyes. “Are you still thinking about moving away from Storybrooke?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “I’ve got every reason in the world to stay right here.”

“Good.”

He kissed her sweetly, then sighed. “I hate to ruin this moment, but I really should get started for home. The road conditions are probably worsening by the minute.”

“Actually, that was the original reason I wanted to talk to you. I was thinking that maybe…you could…stay here tonight.”

“Why, Swan,” he teased, “are you inviting me to a sleepover?”

“Well, it would be a very adult sleepover,” she said, watching him closely to gauge his reaction.

He tilted his head and studied her for a moment or two. “Are you saying…you want me to actually sleep with you?”

“I guess we would sleep eventually…”

“Emma, are you sure you’re ready to take that next step?”

“You’re not?”

“I’m not saying that at all,” he said quickly. “I just…would you be comfortable having me stay with you when Henry is right down the hall? We could…we could wait until we’re at my place, if you’d rather.”

“This isn’t spur of the moment, Killian. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I think Henry is too young to understand what it means for you to spend the night and still be here in the morning. He just loves having you here and is always sad to see you leave. I’m not saying it’s going to be something that happens every night…”

“I wouldn’t expect that, especially during the week, but perhaps on the weekends?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Of course, we might be jumping the gun to consider more than tonight. You might be appalled by my snoring, drooling, or what I look like first thing in the morning. Or maybe we won’t be…compatible…in bed.”

He grinned. “I highly doubt that will be the case, Emma. Ever since the day we met, I’ve felt like we have a connection to each other that goes beyond friendship. I can’t imagine that not transferring to the bedroom. As far as your snoring and drooling, I’m sure I’ll find it to be absolutely adorable.”

“Whatever you say,” she scoffed. “But when you wake up with my morning breath in your face, you might change your mind.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” he smirked.

She began playing with the buttons on his shirt. “There’s, um…there’s one more thing I need to tell you.”

“What’s that, Love?”

After stepping away from him to check on Henry in the other room, she returned to face him again. “I haven’t been…intimate with anyone since Henry’s father. Henry is my world and everything else has taken a back seat.”

“Which is quite understandable,” Killian said. “It’s been a while for me, too. After getting hurt like I did, I was in no hurry to be with another woman. You have changed so many things in my life, Emma, and I’m anxious to begin this next chapter with you and Henry.”

“Don’t forget Winston,” she quipped.

“How could I forget Winston?” he laughed.

“Okay, so how about we get some supper and watch a movie like we usually do on Friday nights? My guess is that after the excitement of the day, Henry will be asleep before it’s over.”

“That sounds wonderful, Love. What were you planning to eat?”

“I was planning to order pizza, but with the roads the way they are, I think we better go with plan B.”

“Which is…?”

“I have no idea.”

He chuckled and kissed her forehead. “Do you mind if I search your cupboards a bit?”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and crooned, “You can search anything you want.”

“Swan, are you flirting with me to get me riled up?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“Perhaps I would,” she answered, before scattering kisses along his throat.

“Bad form, Love,” he groaned.

“You don’t like it?” she asked innocently, looking up at him through her lashes.

“I like it too much, that’s the problem,” he said, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the effect she was having on him.

“Okay, I’ll stop…for now,” she said. She started to move away and he reluctantly released her. “Dig around to your heart’s content and I’ll go see what movie Henry wants to watch.”

Killian ended up making spaghetti with garlic toast for supper. Afterwards, they watched “Luck” on AppleTV, while munching on chocolate chip cookies Emma whipped up. She and Killian managed to make the food while sharing lots of kisses in the kitchen.

Henry didn’t question Killian staying instead of going home; he was simply happy to carry on with their usual Friday evening routine. He made it through the movie without falling asleep, but was reluctant to move when it ended. Emma realized that he wanted Killian to carry him to his room, which he did, making her heart melt as she watched.

While Emma took Henry through his bedtime routine, Killian put Winston outside to do his business. Although he had cleared the patio of snow earlier in the evening, it was covered again.

When he took Winston into Henry’s room after toweling him off, he reported, “I’d say there’s at least six inches of snow and it’s still coming down.”

“Oh, boy!” Henry exclaimed, perking up. “Can you come over tomorrow to play in it with us again?”

Killian scratched behind his ear, looking to Emma for help.

“Actually kid, Killian is going to stay here overnight,” she said.

“He is?”

“Yeah. The roads are pretty bad and I didn’t want him to risk driving home. Is that okay with you?”

Henry gave her a puzzled look. “Sure. Why wouldn’t it be okay?”

Emma shrugged. “He’s never spent the night here before.”

“Well, he should, because we’re usually together all day on Saturdays, too. It doesn’t make sense for him to go home.”

Killian and Emma exchanged a look, then he bid the boy goodnight, patted Winston and left the room so she could read to her son.

After kissing Henry and closing the door to his room, she found Killian sitting on the couch. “Well, I guess that answers the question of whether it’s going to bother Henry,” she said, plopping down beside him.

“Aye,” he chuckled, but she noticed he didn’t look at her.

“Hey,” she said, reaching to take his hand. “Is something wrong?”

“I, uh, I…if we’re going to take that next step in our relationship, I’m concerned about what to do because I don’t have any kind of protection.”

“Well, I obviously don’t have any STDs and I assume you don’t, either.”

“I don’t, but what about preventing you from getting pregnant?”

“Oh, that’s not a problem. I have an IUD. My doctor suggested it because I had such heavy periods after Henry was born.”

“Well, that is a relief,” he said, finally looking at her. “Did Henry fall asleep while you were reading to him?”

“He was out before I read half a page. He actually held out longer than I thought.”

“Tomorrow will be another fun day in the snow for him.”

She turned on the sofa to face him, draping her legs over his. “I was meaning to ask you - did you bring along clothes to wear out in the snow?”

“Aye. Liam advised that I keep extra clothes in the car during the winter months, so I changed into them once we came inside.”

“Did you dry them with Henry’s clothes?”

“I did. I hope that was alright.”

“Of course. I want you to make yourself at home here. I was thinking it might be nice to put up the Christmas tree tomorrow.”

“That’s a wonderful idea. I’m sure Henry loves doing that.”

“Oh yes, he really gets into it,” she laughed. “Although I’m sure you can’t imagine him getting excited about anything!”

Her sarcasm made him chuckle. “That’s one reason why I enjoy being with him so much. He’s enthusiastic about everything.”

“You clearly haven’t seen him do his chores.”

“Well, that’s true,” he agreed with a grin. “I suppose that’s typical for a kid.”

“Not just a kid. I hate doing chores, too.”

“You know,” he said, wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his lap, “I could think of much better things to talk about than chores.”

She adjusted herself so her knees were on either side of his hips, her hands on his shoulders and her forehead resting against his. “Like the fact that I love you?”

“Aye, that’s a much better subject,” he said, nuzzling her nose. They indulged in a long, slow kiss, while their hands roamed each other’s body. “I love you, too,” Killian murmured against her lips. In response, she deepened the kiss and adjusted her position, putting more pressure on his groin. “Swan…” he rasped.

“Maybe we should move to the bedroom,” she whispered in his ear.

The tickling sensation and implication of her words served to increase his arousal. “I like that idea, Love.”

She kissed him one more time, then pushed herself off of him. Threading her fingers through his, she tugged him to his feet. As they quietly moved down the hall, Emma stopped outside Henry’s door, listening intently. Giving a nod, they continued into her bedroom and she closed the door behind them.

“He’s out for the night,” she commented.

“You can tell that just by listening for a few seconds?”

“He’s a mouth breather, a loud one. He probably needs to have his tonsils and adenoids removed, but up until now, I haven’t had a job with good insurance. I just haven’t taken him to the doctor yet.”

“What about Winston?”

“If he needs his tonsils and adenoids out, I’ll let you pay for it,” she teased.

“You’re hilarious, Swan,” he remarked, trying to look stern, but failing to keep the smile from taking over his face.

“Yeah, I know,” she smirked. “Winston has slept through the night since the first night we brought him home.”

“In that case,” Killian said, sauntering into her personal space, “I guess the night is ours.”

“I guess so,” she said, then nervously pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Tilting his head, he looked into her eyes for several seconds, then brushed some locks of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Emma, please don’t feel like we have to go ahead with this if you’re…”

“No, Killian,” she interrupted firmly. “I really want this, I’m just…out of practice, I guess.”

He put his hands on her waist and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “Relax, Love. Just let things happen naturally, and if they don’t, then we sleep instead. No pressure, okay?”

“You know, the first time I saw you, I had to convince myself you were real. I was sure no one as handsome as you could actually exist. And now, you say something like that and I have to convince myself that you’re real all over again. I mean, when a guy’s girlfriend is offering them sex, how many would say it’s okay if it doesn’t happen?”

“Probably more than you think. I would hope there are more gentlemen than rogues out there.”

Emma thought about that for a few moments, before saying, “I should wash my face and brush my teeth. Why don’t you, um, get comfortable in here and I’ll go take care of that.”

He watched her leave the room, then ran his hands through his hair. He longed to show Emma how much he loved her, but the last thing he wanted was for her to feel uncomfortable or pressured in any way. After stripping down to his navy blue boxers and white T-shirt, he sat on the bed to wait for her to return.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, she was quietly berating herself in the mirror. “You have this sweet, sexy, perfect boyfriend in your bedroom and you come running in here like a scared rabbit. What is wrong with you?” she asked her reflection. When she didn’t receive an answer, she sighed, tossed a washcloth into the sink and turned on the hot water.

After she finished in the bathroom and padded back to her room, she tapped lightly on the door before entering. Killian looked up at her from his seat on the bed, concern etched on his face. “Alright there, Swan?”

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. I, um, I laid an extra toothbrush out for you if you wanted to, um, brush your teeth,” she stammered.

“Thank you, Love.” He stood up and slipped out the door.

Emma used the time to change out of her clothes and into a turquoise nightshirt that barely covered her underwear. She was standing in front of her dresser brushing her hair when she heard a soft knock on the door. “Come in,” she said, when it didn’t open right away.

As Killian entered, she saw his reflection in the mirror. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him before he left the room; but now, she saw that he was utterly tantalizing in very little clothing. It made her mouth go dry, but at the same time, made all of her nervousness vanish.

Turning toward him, she saw the anticipation on his face and quickly crossed the space between them. Standing in front of him, she reached up and cupped his face, then pulled him down to connect their lips, trying to pour every ounce of her love into the kiss.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her snugly against himself. She’d been in his arms many times, but there were always more layers of clothing between them. Feeling his well-defined chest pressed against hers and his strong back under her roaming hands, she could feel her own body reacting.

Finally breaking the kiss, she said breathlessly, “I’m sorry for being so hesitant. I asked you to stay and then I let my nerves and insecurities get to me. It’s just that, in the past, people were always letting me down…”

“Let me assure you, Love,” he said, softly stroking the tips of his fingers over her cheek, “I don’t intend to let you down or hurt you in any way. You mean far too much to me to ever let that happen, trust me.”

Her eyes searched his, knowing she would see nothing but sincerity and love in them. “I do trust you,” she whispered. Taking his hands, she backed up until the backs of her knees hit the bed, then sat down and pulled him down beside her.

*********

*********

“I’m yours,” she said. “Make love to me, Killian.”

Twisting his body, he embraced her, then rolled them until he was on top of her in the middle of the mattress. “As you wish,” he grinned.

They took their time undressing each other between impassioned kisses, their lips finding the skin that was revealed with every discarded article of clothing. Killian paid special attention to Emma’s bare breasts when he removed her shirt, his mouth and calloused fingers on the sensitive flesh making her body sizzle with desire.

When she pushed his boxers down his legs, her eyes widened as she took in the size of his manhood. Her hand wrapped around it, the smooth skin feeling like satin on her palm.

As she slowly stroked him, his fingers moved between her thighs, feeling the damp heat. She widened her legs as one finger made its way inside her. “Killiannn,” she whined.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured into her ear.

“Yesss…so good.”

“What you’re doing feels good to me, too,” he assured her. He pushed himself up to lean on one elbow, sweeping his eyes up and down her form. “Gods, Emma. You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen,” he praised. “You’re absolutely perfect.”

Her hands moved to his chest, fingers swirling through the generous dusting of hair. “So are you.” The fingers of one hand followed the dark trail of hair down his belly and between his legs to fondle his testicles, satisfied when she heard his sharp intake of breath.

They continued to explore, working one another up until both were panting and pleading. Killian took his time ensuring that Emma was prepared, using his fingers around and inside her opening to make her slick with arousal. At the same time, her attention to his cock and the way she scratched her fingernails over the skin of his chest and back made him the hardest he’d ever been.

As he sucked love marks into the soft skin of her breast and rubbed his thumb over her clit, she gasped, “Killian, I…I’m ready.”

He looked up at her through his long, dark lashes. Her skin was flushed, her tongue licking at her kiss-swollen lips. As his eyes connected with her lust-filled green ones, a rush of love and longing crashed over him. “I love you, Emma,” he said, moving up to seal the declaration with another kiss.

“I love you, too. So much,” she replied, running her fingers through his damp strands of hair. Then she shifted on the bed so he could settle between her thighs.

Holding himself above her on one elbow, he reached down to grasp his cock, rubbing it through her slick, wet folds, then slowly began pushing forward. His eyes scanned up her body to study her face, hoping to catch any sign of discomfort in her features. He halted his progress when he detected a slight grimace. “Does that hurt?” he asked.

“No, no,” she assured him. “It burns a little, but mostly it feels…amazing. Please don’t stop.”

He was happy to hear those words, because being only partially inside her felt incredible, and he yearned to keep going. Dropping his elbow down to the other side of her body, he pulled back a little, then pressed forward again, going deeper inch by inch, until he was fully engulfed in her warm, tight sheath.

Resting his head on her chest, he ground out, “Bloody hell, Emma. You feel fucking fantastic.”

She skimmed her hands through his hair. “It feels like you were made for me,” she whispered. Bending her knees, she pulled her feet up beside his hips and gave a slight thrust of her pelvis.

He got the hint and began rocking slowly, savoring every moan and gasp from her. Sensing that she had adjusted to his size, he pulled out until only his tip was still inside, then slid all the way back in with one stroke, gradually picking up the pace.

“Faster…deeper,” she begged.

He obliged, thrusting into her several times in quick succession. Her hips raised off the bed to meet him every time, while her fingers gripped his hair almost painfully.

“Killian, I can’t…I’m going to…”

“Let go, Love,” he encouraged, knowing she was right on the edge.

Throbbing heat and a sudden flood of wetness around his cock told him that she followed his command. She crossed her ankles behind his back, trying to pull him closer, while her head thrashed back and forth on the pillow.

He stilled within her, trying to delay his own climax. As good as it felt to have her pulsing around him, he didn’t want it to end so soon.

“T-top,” she mumbled.

“You want to be on top?”

“Mmhmm.”

After wrapping his arms around her, he carefully rolled them over. Emma planted her hands on his chest and pushed herself up, her knees tight against his hips. His hands gripped her forearms as she began lifting and lowering her pelvis, his cock sliding in, then almost out of her over and over again.

Killian was muttering a steady string of praises, telling her how perfect she was and how good she felt. Raising his head, his mouth found one of her nipples, alternately rolling his tongue over it and sucking hard. The effect caused her rhythm to stutter and she threw her head back, letting out a long, guttural moan of his name.

Feeling his release growing imminently closer, he started thrusting up into her. His hand moved down to find her clit, rubbing it roughly as he groaned, “Come again, Emma. Please come, Love. I…I can’t…”

  With one final slide down on him, she did, shuddering and shaking as she cried out, “Yes! Yes, Killian!”

Watching her ecstasy, hearing her shouts and feeling her pulse around him brought him to his peak, too. He jerked and spasmed, spurting hot streams of cum inside her.

When she collapsed on top of him several moments later, he held her close, murmuring words of adoration into her hair. Gradually, their breathing and heart rates returned to normal, and Killian groped around the bed, finding the blanket and pulling it over the top of them.

*********

*********

Emma sighed happily, pressing kisses to his throat and collarbone. “That was amazing! I know it’s been a while, but I don’t remember sex ever being that good.”

“Well, that’s because you’ve never done it with me before,” he chuckled. Hearing her hum of agreement, he added, “It’s never been like that for me, either. Then again, I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. I think that’s what made it so much more intense and meaningful.”

She lifted her head and rested her chin on his sternum, looking into his face. “I’m sure you’re right about that. I’m very glad we decided to take this next step. I feel like we’re more closely connected now.” She wiggled her hips, causing his softening length to shift inside her. “In more ways than one.”

He grinned and reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears. “Meeting you and Henry is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Leaning forward, she kissed him; a slow, tender kiss that communicated her feelings more than words ever could. They cuddled a while longer before Emma slipped her shirt back on and went to the bathroom to clean up, bringing a warm washcloth back so Killian could do the same. After he put his boxers on and visited the bathroom himself, they burrowed under the covers, intertwining themselves and sharing more kisses until they finally drifted off to sleep - content, sated and thoroughly in love.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma awoke slowly the next morning, the smell of coffee tickling her nose. When her foggy brain remembered what happened the night before, she reached over to find the other side of the bed empty. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes and stretched.

She felt pleasantly sore in all the right places and smiled when she remembered how she had awakened in the middle of the night to find Killian watching her sleep. The sliver of moonlight seeping in through the slight opening between the curtains illuminated his mischievous blue eyes. It was then she realized he had worked her shirt up above her breasts and was gently massaging them. Soon they were engaged in round two, finding more ways to bring pleasure to one another.

Flinging back the blanket, she grabbed a robe out of her closet and put it on as she walked down the hall. She could hear Henry chattering before she reached the kitchen.

“...and after we play in the snow, we can play more games and watch movies and…”

“Slow down, lad,” she heard Killian say, his gruff morning voice sending shivers down her spine. “I think your mother has some plans for us today.”

“That’s right,” she said, joining them. “I think you’ll like what I have planned.” Peeking over Henry’s shoulder, she asked, “What are you eating, kid?”

“Killian made egg in a basket!” he said excitedly. “It’s really good and he told me he would teach you how to make it too, if you want.”

“Is that so?” she asked, passing behind the ‘chef’ and discreetly pinching his side.

“Bad form, Swan,” he chided playfully. “And to think I made coffee and breakfast for you.”

“Sorry,” she said, stretching to her tiptoes to kiss the underside of his scruffy jaw. He turned so her next kiss was to his lips.

“You guys are being gross,” Henry complained, making the couple laugh. “So what are we doing today, Mom?”

She poured herself a mug of coffee, splashed some creamer into it, then leaned against the counter to take a sip before answering, “I thought we would put up the Christmas tree and decorate it. How does that sound?”

“YAY!” Henry shouted. Winston started barking from where he lay under the table.

“Winston, enough!” Killian commanded and the dog quieted immediately.

“Good morning, sweet boy,” Emma said, bending down to ruffle his ears. “I didn’t see you under there.” Straightening up, she asked her son, “Did you already feed him?”

Henry’s ears reddened. “Uh, no. I forgot.”

Emma gave him a stern look. “You know you’re supposed to feed your dog before you sit down to eat, young man.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, hopping out of his seat and going to the pantry where the dog’s food was stored.

“Apologize to Winston, not me.”

Henry scooped out the food and dumped it into Winston’s bowl. “I’m sorry, boy,” he said, as he set it down beside the refrigerator where the dog sat waiting.

Killian laughed as he watched Winston inhaling his food like he was afraid it was going to disappear. “I think he forgives you, lad.” Looking at Emma, he added, “I already put him outside to do his business. The snow is up to his belly, but he found a spot by the side of the house that wasn’t quite as deep.”

“How long have you been up?” she questioned.

Killian glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Almost an hour.”

“Wow, you’re a morning person. It usually takes me half-an-hour just to pry my eyes open and get out of bed, especially on a Saturday.”

“Well, you know what they say - opposites attract,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of her and sitting down beside her with his own.

As they began to eat, Henry returned to the table and asked, “When are we gonna put up the tree, Mom?”

“You can help decide. Do you want to do it before or after we play in the snow?”

He thought for a second. “Let’s go outside first. Can we bake gingerbread cookies like we did last year, when we decorated the tree?”

“I’m afraid not. We don’t have the necessary ingredients for that kind of cookie.”

Seeing Henry’s disappointed look, Killian said, “I know a good recipe for sugar cookies. Do you like that kind? I know your mother has all the ingredients for them.”

Henry perked up again. “Yeah! Can we decorate them? We have sprinkles left from when you tried to make cupcakes for Avery’s birthday, remember?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of that fiasco,” Emma groaned, making Henry giggle.

Killian looked between the two of them. “Why was it a fiasco?”

She covered her face with her hands as she answered, “I forgot the baking powder.”

“Do you mean to say,” he began, trying to contain his laughter, “that you baked cupcakes and didn’t put any baking powder in them?”

Dropping her hands, she replied indignantly, “Hey, it happens to the best of us. I’ve seen episodes of the Great British Baking Show where the bakers forget to put in key ingredients.”

“Point taken. Did you take the cupcakes to the party?”

“Are you kidding? They looked like hockey pucks! Of course I didn’t take them to the party.”

Killian laughed heartily, while Emma tried and failed to give him a reproving look. Instead, she dissolved into laughter, too.

“Mom picked up cupcakes at the grocery on the way to the party,” Henry said, then shoved another bite of food into his mouth.

“Well, I promised to bring them, so I had to do something.”

“Very resourceful, Swan.”

By the end of breakfast, they had the day’s schedule worked out. They played in the snow as soon as they were all dressed, then drank hot chocolate and baked cookies. While waiting for the cookies to be cool enough to ice and decorate, Henry and Killian brought the small artificial tree in from the garage.

As they were setting it up, Emma explained, “Henry wants to have a live tree, but I told him he needs to be a little older, because I don’t think I could get one unloaded and set up by myself.”

“Ah, well, if it weren’t for the fact we’re snowed in today, I could have helped you with that,” Killian said. “Perhaps next year.”

“Yeah, that would be nice,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “I hope we’ll still be together by then.”

He pulled her against him, wrapping her in his warm embrace. “I have every confidence we will, Love.”

The day was the most fun any of them could remember. They decorated cookies and the tree while listening to Christmas music, played some board games, then watched two Christmas movies with only the lights from the tree and television illuminating the living room. Killian sat on the couch between Emma and Henry, both of whom were snuggled close to his side.

Emma and Killian shared many affectionate caresses and kisses throughout the day, unable to keep from touching each other. That evening, after Henry and Winston were in bed, they spooned on the sofa, quietly discussing plans for the next day, Christmas and New Years Eve.

Both of them were hopeful and excited about their future together.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Eight Months Later

“Great pass, Nicholas!” Killian shouted, running along the sidelines to coach his players. “Keep it under control, Grace! Get open, Henry! There he is! Pass it, Grace!”

As Henry’s kick sent the soccer ball flying into the goal, Emma leaped from her seat with a cheer, causing Winston to jump up and start barking. Everyone around them laughed, used to the excitable black dog who was always at the games to watch his young master.

When the game ended, Killian’s team was victorious for the third week in a row. Henry shook hands with the other team, then sprinted over to his mom and Winston.

“Good game, kid!” Emma exclaimed, returning his hug. “Your team is doing great this year.”

“That’s because we have the best coach in the whole world!” he beamed, taking Winston’s leash from her as the dog jumped around him enthusiastically.

Emma watched Killian gather his clipboard and Henry’s water bottle. Several parents approached him to offer their words of appreciation, and she smiled as he humbly accepted them.

He really was too good to be true, except that he absolutely was…and he was hers.

She turned to fold up her lawn chair and collect Winston’s favorite ducky toy, and soon felt two strong arms wrap around her from behind.

“Congratulations, coach,” she said, twisting in his arms to kiss him.

“Thank you, Love. The team is really starting to gel, don’t you think?”

“That’s because, as Henry just said, they have the best coach in the world.”

“He said that?” Killian asked, rubbing self-consciously behind his ear.

“Yeah, and I agree. They love playing for you, Babe.”

“Well, they’re fun to coach. I’m glad you talked me into it.”

“Pfft,” Emma scoffed. “I’m not the one who did it. It was that nine-year-old con artist who lives with us.”

“He can be quite persuasive,” he conceded. “Takes after his mother.”

“Hey!” she said, lightly slapping his chest. “I never talk you into doing things you don’t want to do.”

“That’s very true,” he murmured into her ear. “I’m always up for what you want me to do.”

She giggled and engaged him in another kiss, only to be interrupted by a loud, exasperated, “Mom! Killian! You guys are embarrassing!”

They broke apart with a laugh. “Sorry, kid,” Emma said, not sounding one bit apologetic. “Ready to go home?”

“Actually, Henry and I thought it might be fun to go to the nature preserve this morning,” Killian said. “Is that alright with you, Swan?”

“Sounds good to me. I’m glad I wore sneakers instead of sandals.”

They headed to the car and were soon on their way to the preserve. Emma noticed Killian shifting in his seat and nervously tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Oh, um, aye. Just working out some energy left over from the game.”

She studied him for several more moments, then shrugged slightly and turned to ask Henry what he wanted for lunch when they got home, later.

There were several cars in the main parking lot at the preserve, so Killian kept driving until they reached a more remote section. Winston always got distracted if there were too many people around, so they tried to stick to the paths that weren’t likely to be as busy.

Once they found a place to park and were out of the car, Henry and Winston started along the path that led into the woods. Emma and Killian trailed behind, falling into easy conversation, as always. Their current topic was Belle and Liam, who were due to return from their honeymoon the following day. Despite being wed at the beginning of June, the couple waited to go on their trip until August, because Liam could get airline tickets for a much better price late in the summer.

“Bloody wanker, always after a discount,” Killian grumbled, not for the first time. “Even for his honeymoon!”

“Belle didn’t seem to mind,” Emma pointed out. “She was excited because the best time to see Beluga Whales in Alaska is during the month of August. I hope they were able to see some.”

“Aye, me too. That’s probably the reason Liam booked it for this month, anyway. He just wants to make everyone think he’s a miser.”

Emma wrapped her arm around his more tightly and leaned into him. “I definitely got the better brother,” she stated playfully.

“That you did, Love,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her temple.

After hiking for twenty minutes, they came to their favorite spot on the path - a small fishing pond surrounded by tall, reedy grass and cattails. Henry and Winston started exploring the perimeter of the water, in search of frogs. Ever since finding one at this pond earlier in the summer, they were determined to find another.

“Care to sit down for a bit, Love?” Killian asked, indicating a wooden bench.

“Yeah. I’m sure the two of them will want to stay here a while.”

They sat together in comfortable silence, listening to the chirping of birds and buzz of insects. Finally, Killian turned to her and said, “We’ve known each other for almost a year now, haven’t we?”

“We met in September, so it’ll be a year next month.”

“It’s been the best year of my life.”

“Mmhmm. Mine, too. Especially these last three months when you officially moved in with us.”

“Well, I did have to live somewhere, since the lease on my apartment was up,” he teased.

“Oh, so now the truth comes out,” she shot back with a giggle.

“Aye,” he sighed dramatically. “I only love you for your house.”

“You’re so full of it, Jones,” she said, elbowing him in the side.

He leaned back and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side, both of them watching Henry and Winston chasing what looked like a dragonfly.

“Those two are something else,” she remarked.

“They’re both good boys. I’m very lucky to be part of their lives.”

Emma hummed. “We’re all very lucky to have you in our lives.”

After another lengthy pause, he murmured, “I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, too.”

He slipped from his seat and knelt in front of her. “Enough to marry me?” he asked, looking up into her eyes, widened in surprise.

“Killian…wh-what are you doing?” she stammered.

“Isn’t it obvious, Love? I’m proposing. But I guess I’ve forgotten something, haven’t I?” Unbuttoning the pocket on the side of his cargo shorts, he reached in and withdrew a diamond solitaire ring, holding it up between them. “Emma, we may have met because of a mistake, but I don’t think of it that way. I’m convinced it was God’s plan for us to meet in just the right place at exactly the right time. You, Henry and Winston are the center of my world and that’s where I want you to be for the rest of my life. So, Emma Swan, will you marry me?”

She brushed at the tears trickling down her cheeks as a huge smile crossed her face. “Yes, Killian! Of course I’ll marry you!”

He took her trembling hand in his and slid the ring into place. Then he wrapped her in his arms, kissing her hair, eyes, cheeks, and finally, her lips, salty with her tears.

Their celebration was cut short when Henry asked, “Did she say yes?”

Both of them dissolved into laughter. He was notorious for interrupting them when they were kissing, whether out of disgust or because he was simply oblivious.

“Aye, lad. She did,” Killian answered.

“Wait, you were in on this?” Emma asked her son.

“Yeah. Last night, Killian asked me if it was okay for him to marry you. I said it was, so that’s why we decided to come here after the game today - so he could oppose.”

“Propose,” Killian corrected, as Emma laughed.

Henry shrugged. “Whatever. So you’re getting married? We’re gonna be a real family?” His excitement grew as he realized what it all meant.

“Yeah, kid. We’ll officially become a family. What do you think about that?”

It wasn’t a surprise to either of them that his answer was a loud, “YAY!” while Winston barked his approval, too.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Emma and Killian were married sixteen months later, the day before the second anniversary of when they first declared their love for each other. Fortunately, there was no snowstorm on their wedding day.

Henry proudly walked his mother down the aisle to meet Killian at the altar. The boy shook his soon-to-be stepfather’s hand, then nearly tackled him in a hug, before taking his place beside Liam.

The ceremony was beautiful and perfect, which in Killian’s mind, matched his bride. Everyone had a wonderful time at the reception afterwards, celebrating the couple with food and dancing. Liam’s best man speech caused Killian’s face to turn red with embarrassment, as everyone else’s turned red with laughter.

The traditional father/daughter dance was replaced with a mother/son dance instead. As the two most important people in his life moved in small circles in the middle of the floor to the song “How Long Will I Love You?”, Killian repeatedly swallowed past the lump in his throat and wiped away a stray tear or two.

While the newlyweds enjoyed a honeymoon in a tropical climate, Henry and Winston stayed with Belle and Liam. The boy and his dog slept in the spare bedroom that was in the process of being turned into a nursery for Henry’s future cousin, due to arrive in two months.

Emma and Killian purchased a larger house, two blocks from the Storybrooke harbor, six months after their wedding. While they were signing the final legal papers for the sale, they were beginning another legal process.

One morning in October, Henry came into the kitchen and gave Winston an extra helping of food in celebration of their pet’s ‘gotcha day’. Sitting down at the table, he was excited to find his favorite breakfast of French toast with bacon on his plate, and folded pieces of paper beside it.

After drowning his food in maple syrup and taking a huge bite, he picked up the papers and asked, “What are these?”

“Open them and see,” Emma said, her face glowing with excitement as she met Killian’s eyes across the table.

Henry did as he was told, scanning the page until he realized that the first one was a certificate of adoption. His eyes shot up to land on Killian. “Does this mean you’re officially my dad?”

“Aye, lad, I’m legally your father. I signed the final papers a couple of weeks ago. We’ve just been waiting for that other paper to arrive before we told you.”

Henry slid the second paper out from underneath the first, his eyes widening even more. “It says Henry Andrew Jones. Is that really my name now?”

“Yeah, kid,” Emma answered. “That’s your new birth certificate and it names Killian as your father. What do you think?”

In answer, he jumped out of his chair and ran around the table to fly into Killian’s waiting arms. “I think it’s the best day of my life!” he exclaimed. “I love you, Dad!”

“I love you, too, my boy,” Killian replied, a slight catch in his voice at hearing Henry call him that title for the very first time.

Henry turned to give Emma a hug, also. “It’s pretty cool that Winston and I both have the same ‘gotcha day’,” he said.

His parents laughed. “I didn’t think about that,” Emma admitted.

That Christmas, their friends and family received a card which included a picture of Henry, Emma, Killian and Winston in front of their decorated, live Christmas tree. It was signed:

Happy Holidays! With love from the Jones family.

🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾🐾

Thank you so very much for reading!

TAG LIST:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4 @hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling @andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27 @undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat @teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90 @apiratewhopines

#pet for rent #chapter update #chapter 4 #complete story #jrob64 #art by jrob64 #csff #cs fluff #cs smut #CS modern AU #Captain Cobra #ouat Captain Swan fanfic

[elias-rights]

What’s toxic about JonMartin in canon?

It's a really interesting question to get into because there are many factors at play. Under a cut for length.

First of all is the simple fact that they don't know each other. From MAG 159:

PETER

It’s odd, really. You each think you’re so focused on the other, but how much do you really know each other? How much time have you spent together when not working, or bickering, or fleeing from that latest thing that wants to kill you? So. What are you seeking? The image you’ve each created of the other? The people you think you love don’t exist. Not really. And that’s a very lonely place to be.

ARCHIVIST

(cutting off Peter’s echo) Shut up!

Yes, it's a manipulation attempt, but Jon notably doesn't offer a counterargument to his reasoning. Furthermore, it's true: they haven't had the opportunity to get to know each other, at least that we've heard. Not even Jonmartin enthusiasts seem to agree on the question of when exactly Jon started reciprocating Martin's feelings; most of my mutuals share my experience of being completely blindsided by MAG 159/160 and the confirmation of their feelings.

"I need him to be okay" is often cited as proof of Jon caring personally about Martin, but I always viewed it as him clinging to the concept of Martin as his last surviving original assistant; he obviously feels responsible for him and also views him as a symbol of simpler times.

Then there's the fact that they're incompatible. To put a simple example, they don't even get each other's jokes. A brief selection of instances where this happens:

They have the highest ratio of missed jokes I remember seeing between characters in this podcast. This sharply contrasts with, for instance, Gerry, who instantly clicks with Jon's style of communication.

Okay, but this is all about why they're incompatible, which doesn't necessarily imply toxicity. That factor comes in because, throughout season five, Martin is (to put it bluntly) an absolute dick to Jon.

In MAG 181, for example, he joins in on laughing at Jon with Salesa for being powerless, when Salesa at that point was an unknown variable that could've easily been an enemy:

ARCHIVIST

[Compellingly] Tell me what happened.

SALESA

No.

ARCHIVIST

I – uh… W-What?

[DEEP CHUCKLES FROM SALESA]

SALESA

The look on your face! Look, he’s so confused!

[MARTIN LAUGHS A BIT TOO]

ARCHIVIST

Martin!

MARTIN

Sorry. Sorry. Y-You did look kind of funny. It was l-l-l-like you were flunking an exam or something.

Notably, this is after they cross an unknown threshold into the place where an agent of the Web is living, which puts Jon (again, powerless for the first time in a while) in a position where he's at the mercy of the fear that destroyed his childhood. Either Martin is being very insensitive or Jon didn't tell him about Mr Spider, which wouldn't mean anything good re: how well they know and trust each other.

From the same episode:

SALESA

And you?

[SOUND OF A DISGRUNTLED ARCHIVIST]

MARTIN

He’ll behave.

You can make an argument that I'm reaching with everything else in this post, but "he'll behave" is an inarguably disgusting thing to say about your partner, especially when he's in such a vulnerable position.

And then, of course, is the matter of the killing spree.

It starts because Jon impulsively avenges his friend, which he wasn't going to do until the Not-Them basically baited him. (Of course he then felt more secure in his power and part of him enjoyed it. He's in this situation because he was systematically traumatised on purpose by Jonah and forced to read his statement.)

And then, when Jon admits to being ashamed of himself for having these powers, for enjoying them, Martin just bluntly tells him that they should "get their murder on" because "these things" (avatars, of which Jon! Is! One! Nice job implicitly dehumanising him!) are "just evil" (never mind that some of them might have circumstances similar to Jon's). (Also, never mind that revenge fixes nothing, but that's neither here nor there.)

The most egregious example is with Oliver Banks. I know "I'm not going to kill a man just because you're jealous" became a meme line, but it's really not the sign of a healthy relationship.

MARTIN

…Cool, so what’s the problem, then? Take another monster off the hit list; job done.

ARCHIVIST

…It’s not. That simple?

MARTIN

Well, what does that mean. (slight pause, insistent) What does that mean, John? What, what happened to Kill Bill? (barest of pauses) John? John, you said –

ARCHIVIST

I know what I said, and I don’t – (sigh) I don’t know, Martin. I just – I don’t think he’s – (sigh) I don’t know; I don’t think he’s evil.

[Something creaks.]

MARTIN

(really?) Oh, yeah, sure; he’s probably a really kind, benevolent ruler of a hellish fear prison.

I get that Martin is trying to project evil onto every avatar in order to distance himself from them because he's coping badly with having a domain of his own, but maybe don't do that in front of your boyfriend who's struggling with his own avatarhood and whether that makes him a monster. Martin's phrasing even parallels Jon's "all you lose is another monster" line from S4. Tying Jon's worth to some arbitrary definition of humanity that he giveth and taketh away on a whim.

Also, Jon is very notably a person who likes to think things through before expressing them. If Martin can't even be patient while he tries to explain something complex, they're clearly not compatible.

This is from before they kill Jude Perry:

MARTIN

…No. No, I’m not going to choose; I don’t, I don’t think that’s a fair decision to put on me. It’s your revenge; your choice, not mine.

This strikes me as hypocritical. Martin can push Jon to kill the avatars he doesn't like even when Jon clearly isn't comfortable with it, but then places the weight of the whole thing on Jon, as if the killing spree had been his idea. Why isn't it a "fair decision to put on him" when Martin has tried to choose every time until now?

And, I mean, Martin apologises for the pressure, for what it's worth. Except no, the topic comes back, and not in a good way.

ARCHIVIST

What happened to “Kill Bill”?

MARTIN

You weren’t meant to enjoy it this much!

This is about Jon suggesting using his power in a way that would actually make a bit of a difference. Of course it's a fallible suggestion, but Martin's response is just ridiculous. Martin clearly enjoyed the killing spree until it was Jon who put an end to it.

Martin casually dehumanises, dismisses, and belittles Jon on many occasions: treating those Jon's obviously projecting onto like monsters, being whiny and impatient about the statements he needs to survive, or interrupting his train of thought.

Finally (for this post--there were many scenes that I skipped), there's the matter of how the entire crew, Martin included, systematically dismisses Jon's input in the last few episodes. It's like his opinion doesn't even matter, when he's the one arguably best equipped to understand what's happening.

It's genuinely painful to listen to.

#Thank you for the ask! #answered ask #nether-froze-over #mine #jm critical #tma s5 #mackwood #jonathan sims

[cuddlebugzz]

Hey hey! Since the last post went over so well I thought I might as well share more steps on my agere gear journey! I felt a little shoppy lately so I bought some stuff I've never tried: namely, Little Kings Diapers from abu and bigtots training pants! I also got some new goodnites, I'll share about those too. Continued under the cut!

*before we start I want to mention - I do actually use nappies. I'll put {these brackets} around talk about it in case you want to skip it.

So, going chronologically, shortly after buying my boys goodnites I also bought the girls pattern. I bought these ones at the actual store, a walgreens I think. I heard the girls pattern was hard to find so I thought I'd pick some up. It took me two tries to work up the nerve, but as with last time, it wasn't actually a big deal. Same quality notes as last time:

soft and comfy, but not too big. I did try fluffing one, and it did add softness! Still very discreet, it makes no noise and you can't notice them through regular pants.

{ they hold a decent amount wetness wise. I've had no problems with leaks or dampness on clothes.}

Next up is the Little Kings! I bought a two pack sample of the medium size on thursday, and it arrived on saturday! They came in discreet packaging, the shipping label didn't even say abu, and it came with a ziplock bag for storage. I immediately noticed how big they are, easily twice the goodnites. They also smelled like baby powder, and felt sooo soft to the touch!

I was going to wait until another day to try them, but I got excited. I did rush through the application though, so it came out a little wonky lol. The medium is definitely a little big on me, but I don't think they carry small, so it'll suffice. Here's the deets!

soooo soft. I know I've said it, but I'll say it again. They're very different from the goodnites, they're plush all around so they're bulkier. They also cover much more, the back came up to my lower back and was a little difficult to hide under my pants alone. Sooo cozy though, probably better if you apply them well!

Surprisingly quiet for what I was expecting - maybe some shuffling, and it does make you waddle a bit, but it's not too hard to hide. Not necessarily discreet, but not loud. They're cloth backed, which is why.

They have 'hook and loop' tapes, which are a little like velcro, so you can adjust them!

{ obviously more absorbant than the goodnites, that's what they're made for. I actually had a little trouble going in them because they were so padded - but I did manage a little. It didn't even activate the wetness indicator, so Im assuming it can hold quite a bit. Probably a good overnight nappy if you struggle with bedwetting.}

Overall, if I had a smaller size, they'd be 1000/10 perfect!

Lastly, we've got the training pants from bigtot!! And honestly I'd go so far as to say these are my favorite piece of agere clothing. They're exactly what I wanted! I always loved training pants, the softness is just comforting, and these are exactly what I wanted - or even better!! Notes:

So. So. So soft and pillowy!!

Adorable patterns

Pretty pricey, but worth it if you have it! They're very well made.

Pretty discreet, a little big but nothing too noticeable.

They run a bit small, so maybe try a size up! They can get a little tight around the elastics.

{ I don't have a washing machine so I can't speak to the effectiveness of these when it comes to using them }

Overall, 10000/10, even perfecter!! Anyway, I hope this whole review post was helpful ♡ lmk anything else you'd like to hear about!

#lets talk about agere #agere gear #agere #age regression #um. idk lol #these made me so so happy!!! #OH WAIT #ageredips #padded agere #nappychat

[theninthdoor]

Could you do how skz members deal with jealousy, which of them are overprotective and possessive ?

Bang Chan || six of swords, seven of wands: At first he tries to be pretty logical about it and maintain a good line of communication between him and the other person, yet fails every time. This gives me the same type of feeling as of a little kid who runs away, screaming, to hide their toys as soon as they see some other child looking at them - like "it's mine! you're not touching it. don't even think about it!". The though of sharing might've crossed his mind for a split second, but it's gone just as quick.

Lee Know || the hermit, six of swords: He might be the type to distance himself, so the other person is "forced" to seek his attention once again. Once that happens, he'll speak up - yet very coldly - about his jealousy, plus set some boundaries such as, "I would prefer if you didn't hang out with that person" or "I would rather get a text message from you telling me you're going out with that group of people instead of having to find out through social media", etc.

Changbin || six of swords, queen of swords: (our 3rd 6oS?? wow) Changbin is very, very straightforward. He'll speak up, no matter where or when; if something is bothering him, he'll say it, very honestly and clearly. He doesn't even need to raise his voice or make a scene - it's all about being forthright and getting his "competition" to recognize him as the winner of that little battle. If his partner doesn't collaborate, though, then I expect him to give them the cold shoulder and distance himself, for sure.

Hyunjin || the fool, four of cups: He comes off as quite immature + turbulent when it comes to these things… Playing it cool only makes matters worse for everybody, yet he never learns his lesson and just keeps pulling that card on them over and over again. What I mean is: he's definitely one to get upset/jealous easily, specially when he feels ignored or like the other person is enjoying someone else's presence over his; once that happens, he then becomes very careless with his words by mixing jokes with his true, raw feelings. This attitude here not only leads him to become more and more frustrated, but it might also annoy the other person quite a lot, causing then a big misunderstanding between the two.

Han || judgement, three of wands: Han starts seeking the other person's attention and approval immediately! He needs to feel seen and to feel heard! Although it might take a lot to make him jealous + to get him to admit his jealousy, it does happen. I think, in his case, it's much more an issue of him feeling less interesting or important than others - that's what makes him jealous… he doesn't want to be replaced.

Felix || strength, the hierophant: Felix seems to have a good level of self-control, to be honest. I see him being the type to use physical touch as means of getting the attention back to him - like holding hands, playing with his partner's/friend's hair, hugging them, etc -, instead of words. He just needs to feel like the connection hasn't been broken or damaged, that's all.

Seungmin || the hanged man, five of wands: He can go from giving the other person the silent treatment to loudly confronting them, in a split second. You never know what you're gonna get with him… One to get jealous quite easily, I feel like.

I.N || we've gone over him here > X, X and X. Our conclusion from all of that: my dude just wants attention; don't embarass him; he's an immature little one sometimes lol.

(Disclaimer: All readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

#tqqstraykids #stray kids tarot #stray kids astrology #kpop tarot

[ticklygiggles]

An Acting Queen Consort and a Captain | Sariphi & Lanteveldt

Commission for @wertzunge

A/N: Thank you for your patience as always, kind Max! I hope you enjoy this little fic with our favorite Acting Consort and hyenafolk! I'm still quite new to this fandom, so I apologize in advance if they are a bit ooc *sobs* I hope you enjoy it, though. Thank you Max!

Summary: Sari is tired after losing one night of sleep, but why is her guard putting an attitude in if he's the reason why she hasn't slept?! An apology is needed.

Sariphi gave a long sigh as she collapsed into the seat of the carriage. Her feet hurt and she felt like her arms and legs were as heavy as blocks of steel. It had been a very busy and eventful couple of days in Maasya. Sari was happy to have fulfilled another trial as Acting Queen Consort, but mentally and physically she felt exhausted. Who would have thought that her simple human eyes would ever be so helpful - she had just saved Lante's life. The new Captain had been a handful since the very first moment they met, but Sariphi was thankful for having him. She perfectly knew he meant no warm to her nor the Kingdom of Ozmargo, (included, most importantly, His Majesty), but she was glad they now know this on Maasya as well. 

Still… he could've been a bit nicer before, hmm?

Sari sighed again, closing her eyes and slightly tilting her head to the side tiredly. 

“Sari…,” Clops said in a troubled voice as it gently jumped into Sari's lap, Cy mumbling a worried ‘ri’, also jumping on her lap. 

Sari smiled warmly, gently rubbing their heads. “I am alright, Clops-chan, Cy-chan. Don't worry about me.” 

“Tch, honestly, why did you even have to stay up just to help me out? I could've solved the problem without your help,” Lante said stubbornly, lying on the seat opposite to Sari. 

“Oi! How can you talk to Sari like that after all she did for you!” 

“For you!” 

Lante’s voice sounded sharp and aggressive, completely annoyed by the whole situation, but Sariphi knew better, oh she did. It wasn't his fault for being as distrustful as he was; Sari was no expert, but she had studied profusely and knew perfectly well that being a hyenafolk wasn't easy even if they had good intentions - Lante's ancestors had decided to blacken the name of all future generations by their acts in the past. It was sad he had to suffer the ugly looks and mean words and she thought, perhaps, they were on the same page, after all, she was still under those ugly looks. 

Well, that didn't really matter anymore. Lante had sworn on his life to protect Sariphi and she trusted him, but still… wasn't he being a bit too much talking like that? Sariphi didn't help him because she wanted to manipulate him, regardless, she thought he could act a bit nicer to her. Wasn't he the one that put her life in danger? She was sure he was going to save her but… still!

“Hmph! I didn't ask Sari to help me, did I?” He asked, although he wasn't even looking at Sari. 

“You! How can you say that?!”

“That!” 

“Now everyone, please calm down. Cy-chan, Clops-chan, thank you for worrying about me, but please don't get too mad, okay?” She smiled sweetly at them, but her smile slowly faded as she looked at the Captain. “Lante.”

He immediately sat up, ears and tail perked up and eyes slightly wide as he stared at Sari. Sariphi was not one to be angered easily, she actually didn't like being mad at someone for too long and this was the case with Lante - first of all, she had never been mad at him, if she had to name her initial feeling towards Lante, it would've been ‘uncertainty’ and ‘expectation’, perhaps also a bit of fear but not too much. So right now, she was just playing. 

“We've been through a lot, Lante,” she said calmly, her voice serious and slightly cold. “And I haven't once heard an ‘I am sorry’ from your lips, do you think that's fair?” 

Lante jumped slightly. “I- I have nothing to apologize for!” 

“Apologize!” Cy and Clops yelled.

“Apologize, Lante,” Sari said before a spark of playfulness twinkled in her eyes. “Or else… I will tickle you.”

She grinned as Lante's ears twitched. It was funny to see his expression twist from fear to surprise and then embarrassment. Sariphi couldn't help but giggle as Cy and Clips jumped on her lap. 

“Get him, Sari! Get him!”

“Him!” 

Lante huffed, crossing his arms and legs as he leaned back. “Heh, I'd like to see you try, Acting Queen Consort. I am not sensitive, that's childish. I think you'll have to think harder than that.” 

Sari chuckled. Lante wasn't ticklish? She'd like to see that! Even someone like His Majesty was sensitive, there was no way Lante wasn't! Sari liked a nice challenge like this once in a while. 

“Then, you wouldn't mind me trying, right?” She asked, smiling at him as she gently put Cy and Clops off her lap so she could move and sit right beside Lante. The poor hyena jumped slightly, highly aware of Sari’s presence. Someone who was not ticklish could act this way? Sari giggled and Lante turned his head away from her. 

“G-Go ahead,” he said. The confidence in his voice was gone, and Sari knew she was going to have a lot of fun. “I don't mind at all.”

“Very well!” She said and her hands wasted no time; her fine fingers touched his side, just a touch of her fingertips against Lante's warm, fluffy side. The knight shivered slightly, almost imperceptibly, and his ears twitched a bit, but his face didn't show much emotion. Sari grinned as she started to wiggle her fingers against his side, going up and down in a way she had learned always made His Majesty let out soft giggles. 

It seemed like Lante wasn't immune to that touch either. He started to shake slightly and he closed his eyes tightly. Sari watched as one of his shoulders rose involuntarily, and his elbow twitched back a bit. 

“You know… I wonder if someone not ticklish would be squirming like you?” Sari teased playfully, poking Lante's side and making him jump slightly. 

“W-What d-do you m-m-mean?” He asked through gritted teeth. “I'm not s-squirming at a-all, you- gah! S-Sahari, w-wait!”

Sari's gentle and tickly fingers had reached one side of his ribs and he flinched away, pressing his arms tightly against his body in an attempt to stop her, but her hand was trapped in and she had no other option but to tickle him more, of course. The strangled sound he made when he felt Sari clawing at his ribs made her laugh softly. 

“Are you sure you're not ticklish, Lante? You seem quite ticklish to me.” 

Lante shook his head, ears pressed back against his skull as he refused to even speak, but Sari could feel him shaking under her touch, trying to hold back his laughter. 

“He's ticklish, Sari!” Both Cy and Clops jumped on Lante's lap, hopping up and down a bit too excitedly, perhaps a bit happy that Lante was, for once, being taken down a notch. “Get him good!” 

“Good!” 

Lante tried to slap Cy and Clops away, but as Sari reached for the other side of his ribs, he lasted a total of two seconds before he erupted into loud laughter. His arms wrapped around his ribs as he leaned forward, trying to escape from Sari's fingers. 

“Are you laughing, Lante?” She asked playfully, fingertips digging into the spaces between Lante's ribs. “Are you laughing when you said you weren't ticklish?” 

“SAHAHARI! Plehehease dohohon't!” He cackled, jerking heavily as Sari found his highest ribs, near his armpits.

“Get ‘im! Get ‘im!” Cy and Clops chanted happily, bouncing from leg to leg whenever Lante kicked desperately. 

“Ribs? Ticklish,” Sari said, her hands suddenly burying under Lante's underarms. Lante let out an uncharacteristic shriek as he threw his head back with loud laughter. “Underarms? Very ticklish!”

“SAHAHARI! STAHAHAP!” 

Sariphi actually thought that Lante was telling the truth. She really thought he wasn't ticklish, but she had to know better. Why wouldn't he? If His Majesty was ticklish, it seemed impossible for Sari to think that the other beasts were not. Even Anubis, but she didn't wish to lose her hands trying to tickle him, but Lante was another story. He trusted her and Sari knew that even if he acted a bit grumpy when she stopped her attack, he wouldn't actually get mad at her. Besides, wasn't his tail wagging? How cute!

Sari didn't know how, but Lante had fallen flat on his back in the carriage seat, laughing wildly when Sari returned to his ribs. Sari could feel Lante's soft fur above his clothes and she couldn't help but but think about scratching a puppy's tummy. When her fingernails scritch-scratched his ribs, Lante shrieked, throwing his head back. 

“Sari! Sari!” Cy called for her attention, both creatures now jumping on Lante's belly. “Try his belly, Sari!” Clops finished and Sari smiled. 

“Oh? Right here?”

“NO MOHOHORE!” He begged, but Sari didn't hear because he was laughing so much! “SAHAHARI! D-Dohohon’t scrahahatch mehehe!” He cackled, wagging his tail as Sari scratched his tummy. “I'm nohohot a dohohog!” 

“I know you are not,” Sari giggled. “But the scratching makes you laugh more!” 

Lante shook his head. “SAHAHARIPHIHI! STAHAHAP!” 

“Of course! I'll stop when you apologize, Lante!” 

“NEHEVER! I DIHIHIDN’T-

“Sari! Sari!”

Sari lookef at her little companions and her eyebrows raised when she saw them, easily sneaking under his arms, giving Sari an opening to tickle him there again. However, Sariphi was surprised how easy it was for Cy and Clops to move his arms. It seemed that Lante's weakness really was being tickled huh? Feeling a bit mischievous, Sari gently closed her hand around one of his wrists and lifted his arm above his head. She couldn't help but widen her eyes. 

“What's the matter, Lante?” She taunted, the fingers from her free hand walking up his side and ribs towards his underarm. “Even I can pin you down like this?” 

Lante shook his head, eyeing the delicate fingers doing their dance towards his tickle spot. “S-Sahahari plehehease! Li-Listen! I lied okay? I'm actually vehery ticklish, yes? If you tihickle me there again, I'll die!” 

Sari giggled, “what? You're ticklish? How weird, I didn't notice!” Cy and Clops giggled, rolling around Lante's tummy, making him twitch and flinch. “I already tell you how to make st-

“I refuse!” He gasped, giggling brightly when Sari's fingers finally touched his armpit, but didn't tickle him right away. “S-Sahahari, plehehease!” 

“I'll give you three seconds,” she said, her finger drawing circles around Lante's underarm. “Three seconds for you to apologize!” 

“Three seconds!” 

“Seconds!” 

“I wohoahahaHAHA!” Hysterical laughter filled the carriage. Sariphi was slightly surprised no one came to check on them, but she didn't pay much attention to that thought, instead, she focused on wiggling and digging her fingers against Lante's under arm, driving him up the wall. 

Lante barely jerked to free himself and Sari giggled. “Cy-Chan, Clops-chan. Does Lante look ticklish to you?” 

“Yes, Sari! Very ticklish!” 

“Very ticklish!” 

Sari grinned, giggling when Lante crackled as she scratched the center of his armpit. “Do you think he should apologize?” 

“Apologize! Apologize!” The creatures chanted and for a minute, Sari thought Lante would faint at any moment as he still refused to apologize to her. 

She wouldn't like to kill him, but just as she was thinking of stopping, Lante’s yell surprised her. 

“I AHAHAM SOHOHORRY! Plehehease, Sahahariphi- NOHOHO MOHOHORE!” 

As if his words were a spell, Sari's mischievous fingers stopped and in the blink of an eye, she, Cy and Clops were sitting on the other side of the carriage in front of Lante, as if Sari hadn't been tickling him like crazy. Sari watched with a smile as Lante tried to catch his breath while small residual giggles made him bounce slightly. She then noticed that his eyelashes were wet with tears of laughter. His chest fell and rose hurriedly and for a moment she worried. 

“Was it too much, Lante?”

The hyenafolk didn't answer right away, but after a few deep breaths, he shook his head, cleaning the tears off his eyes. “I'm a-alrigh. It wahas… my first time getting t-tickled by a human… it was a wide experience.”

Sari smiled warmly at him before looking down at her lap. Her gentle hands that only a couple of minutes ago were pulling out loud crackles from Lante, were now rubbing Cy and Clops’ little heads. The two little monsters had fallen asleep, tired after all of that jumping around and cheering for Sari. She chuckled and then looked up at Lante. 

He had calmed down completely, simply laying down with sleepy eyes. 

“Lante?” He sat up, hyperware and Sari chuckled. “Thank you, Lante.” 

The Captain blinked before his eyes softened. “No, thanks to you, Sari.” 

Warm spread across her chest and she smiled brightly. 

She couldn wait to see His Majesty again. 

#sacrificial princess and the king of beasts #sariphi #lanteveldt #tickle fic #ticklish!lanteveldt #heavy mentions of His Majesty being ticklish #mia's commissions #commission

[naranjapetrificada]

This is going to be long so the short version is this:

I convinced my therapist to watch the 🌟Gay Pirate Show🌟 and now I have to confront a previously unidentified and terrifyingly deep emotional wound that could be as transformative to heal as it is terrifying to approach.

My therapist and I have a lot of let's say...demographic things in common that have made this the most successful therapeutic relationship I've ever had, but also that just made me think he might like the show. It's no secret that ofmd has been a deeply moving experience for its viewers, and queer, neurodivergent, and/or people of color have written at length about the special ways it touches us (or doesn't). Those are three categories both he and I fit into and it feels relevant to say that for context.

So yes I thought he might like it, but I also wanted to pick his brain about Big Feelings it was giving me that I hadn't experienced with the same intensity with other media/fandoms. Y'all, he gave me a completely unexpected reading on the show (and its story and its fan works) and why it makes us feel So Much that I haven't seen anywhere before.

When I say Big Feelings, I mean like I've literally had to swear off a couple of pretty innocuous categories on AO3 ("Growing Old Together" and "Domestic Fluff") because they would devastate me in ways that I couldn't attribute to anything specific. Growing Old Together comes with the possibility of death separating them, which is heartbreaking, but that didn't feel like it was the thing that was gutting me. Domestic Fluff could probably be called the most innocuous tag ever, but anything that saw our blorbos settling down and watching the Revenge sail off into the distance was fucking me up as well.

There are plenty of reasons why OFMD makes queer people feel so much, but when I say this was fucking me up I mean like, well, remember when people outside of classical music started learning about appoggiatura? Like intellectually knowing why I was crying but at a loss how intense everything felt. And my therapist (who is as good at analyzing a text as he is at being a therapist) was like "oh, it could be all the grief."

The grief.

The audacity of this motherfucker (affectionate).

It's a romcom! It's a romcom that we were explicitly told would have a happy ending! It's a romcom where the characters will get to sail off into the sunset together like they want and like we want for them! Stede and Ed, after four decades of self-hatred and trauma and fear and isolation, somehow find each other. And one of the sweetest things about their story is that it's a late in life love story, because it's incredibly inspiring for someone to get to experience a part of life they thought wasn't for them. The inescapable fact that their time together will be shorter than any of us would like is sad but not unaccountably sad to me, because of how much joy they'll be able to cram into the time they have left. I could be wrong but I don't think that alone is the source of what's been overwhelming me.

Grief is a constant presence in the world-building and the storytelling because grief is a natural response to well, so many things about being alive. Grieving is some of the hardest shit any of us ever have to do, but it's also so universal and so many of the things that make us uniquely human also make grieving well, maybe not easier, but something we can endure and process through ritual, community, and the example of those we've witnessed grieving their own losses. Many kinds of grief come with narratives that you can accept or reject all or parts of, but the narrative exists.

But have you ever heard of disenfranchised loss? Loss that's not easily labeled or classified or given the time or space or understanding it deserves? Have you experienced a loss like that? Can you imagine how much more difficult it makes the grieving process?

Well what my therapist suggested, the thing that knocked me on my ass hard enough that I had to come have Online Feelings about it, is that eventually, we all have to mourn ourselves. Not necessarily in a "mortality is inevitable" way (that happens to everyone) but in ways that are often unique to people like him and me (black, ND, queer). Even if we work on ourselves, if we grow and heal our trauma and feel at home in our identities and our bodies and build beautiful lives, eventually we will be forced to mourn the selves that we never got to be in the societies in which we live and the selves we once had to become to survive this long.

And that mourning is a kind of disenfranchised loss, with no clear path forward. Obviously this conversation happened within the context of everything my therapist knows about me as an individual, but I thought certain things might resonate with other fans as well so I wanted to talk about it. The story of this bizarre little man and his remarkable second act and his lovely little found family and his incredibly beautiful love story (that we've been guaranteed will end happily) is still haunted by the specific kind of grief that comes from learning what's possible, and regretting that you didn't know it was possible sooner.

And does anybody have more delayed milestones, later-in-life discoveries, and/or need to invent places for themselves than those of us on the social fringes? Than those of us in societies unequipped for (or actively hostile to) the ways we exist and the things we need to survive and thrive? Than those of us who have to create our own narratives or be saddled with inaccurate or harmful narratives created by others, or even no narrative at all?

And narrative is so much. Narrative is everything. Narrative is the story we tell ourselves and each other and that literally shapes our reality. So those story beats where we discover something better than what came before are inherently stories with loss and will require mourning, because we mourn loss.

Even when the story has a happy ending. Especially when the story has a happy ending for someone who never thought they would be allowed to have one.

I mean just like, FUCKING HELL. I can't blame anyone for this but myself. I know my therapist. I know how insightful he can be. I did this to myself and now I have to live with it. But my god is it a massive mountain I'm about to have to climb now. My therapist and I have always found it helpful to discuss media that makes me Feel Things (see all the trauma work that came from Life is Strange) but if you had told me that I'd be looking into this new dark cave of unprocessed shit thanks to what I thought was just gonna be a harmless little gay pirate show starring fucking Murray from Flight of the Concords I would probably just have assumed you were in the middle of having a stroke and taken off to get you the medical attention you desperately needed.

#not to be dramatic #but I definitely worry this might still be dramatic #my therapist is great #but the problem with a good therapist #is that sometimes they will fucking read you #and then you get whiplash #don't be afraid to bring up media that speaks to you in therapy #you never know what might come of it #or how much it might shake you #I should also be clear that all this grief in a story with a happy ending isn't a bad thing #it just kind of is #and when you enjoy it #just enjoy it #every moment of joy is a gift #no matter the context #go ahead and grieve yourself #also I couldn't find an elegant way to fit this in #but the storytelling is very neurodivergent #or at least unfolds in a way that is friendly to my neurodivergence #that's why I'm not a big TV watcher anyway #but I was able to sit down and mainline this #it's the first new show I've watched in literal years #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #our flag means death meta #🤯🤯🤯 #😳😳😳 #disenfranchised loss

[howtobecomeadragon]

I think there's some really interesting stuff going on with the language used between Mike and El and Mike and Will. Namely: yes's, no's, and not giving or receiving an answer to questions.

I started thinking about this in relation to Mike and El post-reunion in s4, so I'll cover that first, and then go into Mike and El vs Mike and Will throughout the seasons for their big moments.

Immediately upon reuniting, El is giving Mike a firm no. She doesn't like that he's not hearing her and the importance of what she's saying.

Mike asks several questions here, even prefacing them with saying that it's an important question. Now obviously he's joking around, but it's so weird that El doesn't answer him once. She is giggling, she is smiling, but she's not giving him an answer and changes the subject instead of giving him a yes.

Mike gives El a no here: she wants him to do something, try the pizza, and he gives a firm no. He's not willing to try something new with/for her. She then pairs up with Argyle to force him to eat the pizza.

Mike continues to ask if she can hear him before saying he loves her, but once again she doesn't give him an answer. Obviously she's being choked and is likely not able to easily vocalize a response (if at all). But he knows that she can hear him. Earlier in the scene, she was speaking and answering questions.

He knows she can hear him, but he's asking anyway. Because he's scared for her safety and wants reassurance that she's okay, but the absolute excess of asking SEVEN times if she can hear him is strange, especially considering that the dialogue could've been written to have Mike ask something else repeatedly that would've made more sense within the context of Mike JUST caring for her safety: "Are you okay? Please answer if you're safe. What's going on? Can we help you?" All good options that would've made just as much sense as him asking if she can HEAR HIM repeatedly. Which of course calls back to the s3 "I love her" where El was out of the room, but did hear him and only let him know she'd heard him 3 months later, at which point Mike faked that he had forgotten and was uncomfortable at the idea of saying it again.

Later on in this scene, we see Mike and Will once more, and I don't see these scenes talked about often. This is after Max has died, after the gates open, before El saves Max.

El can wake up, she could answer him, but she's deciding not to as she's grieving Max, and decides that she's going to do what she can to try to save Max. Mike is again speaking and asking for a response but not getting one. Not blaming El here at all, but this is the third time we've seen this in one episode. It's a theme. El doesn't want to engage Mike in what he has to say or ask.

The next line of dialogue after Mike says "Wake up" is El saying "No." El is saying this to Max, but it is interesting, again, how we get another no from El almost responding to Mike here. He can't tell her what to do, he can't tell her to move on, he can't make her decisions for her. This is also paired with El saying "you're not going" to Max, which also pairs nicely with the flashback we see of Max saying that they make their own rules.

And El speaks here, in this space of spying, and I'm not sure the details of how El can project her voice to actually speaking from her physical body vs keeping her voice in the spying plane, but the assumption is that she's not speaking out loud, this is a private moment where El decides to speak.

I just think it's so interesting how often in these few short scenes of dialogue between the two, there's no yes's, there's no verbal agreement, they're not on the same page. El is actively ignoring Mike's questions and is shown to not answer him repeatedly even though she can hear him. And of course, they don't exchange any dialogue at all in the epilogue.

And so I went on to look at some of the bigger scenes and moments between El and Mike, and Will and Mike, to see how often we get yes's, no's, or if we don't get a response at all. And it's interesting. Coming soon!!!

El and Mike, post reunion in s4, El and Mike, s1-2, El and Mike, s3-s4, Will and Mike

#byler #el's indepence arc #el hopper #mike wheeler