How they got together is mostly a run-of-the-mill story. Boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. A strange and complicated courtship followed. All that really matters to either of them is that they’re happy. They’re in love. They’re miles away from anyone who cares if they are in a relationship or not. Which means their peace can’t last, of course.
Prince Killian of Misthaven was never meant to rule-as the second son, he was content to let the limelight and responsibility fall upon his older brother, the Crown Prince Liam, while he lived a carefree life of adventure, tempting danger at every turn-much to the consternation of his body guard and best friend, Captain Emma Swan.
After Liam’s untimely death, the entire Kingdom is thrown into a tailspin, and none worse than Killian and Emma. Killian must now step up to the role he was never meant to play, and Emma must deal with the consequences of falling in love with her charge, the Prince who would be King.
“Every artist has their signature and hers, well it’s cover-ups. Sometimes it’s to mask a now unwanted tat but her favorite is to cover a scar, or as she likes to explain to her clients, honor it. She gets a rush at taking something unwanted and turning into something to cherish.“
Everybody taking one of Professor Killian Jones’ lectures knew Mrs. Jones. Or, if they didn’t know she was actually his wife, they knew the blonde woman who he called “Swan” and who occasionally snuck into the room and made their professor’s always excited grin grow even wider. (NOT StudentxProfessor)
Emma and Killian have a big brother kid sister dynamic. They each have feelings for one another but believe those feelings to be be unrequited. Trapped in Dave’s closet, those feelings become harder to suppress.
When Emma was born she was marked with, in her opinion, the worst soulmate mark anyone could ever have. People are born marked with the first words their true love would ever say to them, and Emma’s happened to spoil one of the greatest plot twists of all time.
After one too many bad setups, Emma thinks the best way to get out of another blind date is to tell her sister-in-law she already has a boyfriend. But when her brother makes the assumption she’s dating Killian Jones, Emma just might need a Christmas miracle to pull it off.
In the 1950’s Pediatric Cardiology was a fairly new field. But that didn’t stop Doctor Killian Jones from accepting that as a challenge. When Emma Swan brings her young son Henry to his office with a rare birth defect that threatens his very life, they will have to fight together in order to save his life. That’s all there is - she’s his patient’s mother and he’s her son’s doctor. Until that isn’t all there is.
Emma Swan doesn’t want to lie about her relationship with Killian Jones, friend and roommate of her best friend’s boyfriend, but she cannot face Mary Margaret’s “I told you so” face. The easiest thing to do is just pretend to hate each other.
“We need to pick a lane, Emma. We go full on with the internet-friendly bits and schtick, or we give the viewers another reason to watch — our numbers are too dependent on the guests right now, we want everyone tuning in every time.” (a ‘Tonight Show’ AU with Emma as the host and Killian as the new bandleader!)
After three months of Killian going on about some girl named Swan, Liam gets impatient with waiting for his little brother to introduce him to his girlfriend, and decides to take matters into his own hands. …In a suitably embarrassing way to punish him for the delay, of course.
A little fic because I have feelings about them growing old together. Inspired by the Underworld phone line in 5x16 and set in some happily ever after where Killian and Emma have the time to build their lives together.
“Let me paint a picture of what’s waiting for you on the shore. You arrive in America, land of opportunity, milk and honey and guess what? You all get to be slaves. Split up, sold off and worked to death. The lucky ones get sunday off to sleep and fuck and make more slaves, and all for what? For cotton? Indigo? For a fucking purple shirt? The only good news is the tabacco your grandkids are gonna farm for free is gonna give a shitload of these white motherfuckers cancer. And I ain’t even started yet.”
Angry is good. Angry gets shit done. You shed tears for Compe Anansi and here he is, telling you you are staring down the barrel of 300 years of subjugation, racist bullshit, and heart disease. He is telling
you there isn’t one goddamned reason you shouldn’t go up there right now and slit the throats of every last one of these Dutch motherfuckers and set fire to this ship.
Summary: Reggie Mantle grew up protecting what he loved.
I miss you.
received the text on the first day of school, the instant your baby pink ballet
flats maneuvered within the halls of Riverdale High, which were marginally
filled with mayhem from everyone’s first day jitters.
not everyone. You, despite your extra pretty face, extra shiny curls, and extra
preppy outfit, wore a heavy façade that drooped lower than the Maybelline Fit
Me-concealed eye-bags that were situated below your unexplained, cheery eyes that
tried to greet everyone with much positivity as possible. As everyone knew your
perfect reputation, the happy-go-lucky cheerleader that everyone admired and
loved since the day you entered high school. It was never tarnished, so you
refused to let a silly break-up move it at all.
took out your phone and shakily gazed down at the message. It was sent in
clear, with no emoji’s or silly grammatical errors. Your nervous fingers moved
for you, but your brain was being silly that day and it had no planned response
for the text message.
wave of students accidentally crossed and one of them partially collided
against your hardly five feet tall physique, which was a thankful jolt that rattled
you off from replying to the text message. You squeezed the iPhone tightly,
bearing no mind of the glittery fake diamonds from the phone case bearing harsh
indentions against your palm.
moment you were able to fix your locker and lock it behind you, you immediately
set off to find a seat in the gym—hoping that an early departure from
the first day madness would create a false sense of comfort from your inevitable
fate, which was meeting your ex-boyfriend again subsequently after a summer of
trying to forget all about him.
had always said that you were perfect for Reginald Mantle.
were a girl blessed with your father’s dominant sloped nose and your mother’s graceful
and tiny, ballerina body. Being the only child meant being under the revolving
gaze of your mother and father’s watchful eyes twenty-four/seven, and you grew
up to be accordingly limpid; yet, at the same time pretentious for you were the
heir of one of the wealthiest families in Riverdale.
was a boy meant for you even before you knew what he was supposed to be. He was
a constant person in your life, a fixture caused by your parents and his
parents’ meddling. Though, despite your unending play times together and a
hired tutor that taught you and him up until you were in middle school, Reggie
and you grew up in different paths, in different aspects.
and Reggie were in the opposite sides of the spectrum. Nevertheless, you were inexplicably
drawn to him. He was exactly the same as you, but as the same time, so, so different.
was difficult to figure out. He had pushed children off swing sets and had
hogged all the toy cars to himself as he disliked sharing. You hated the smirk
on his face when he teased his inferiors, and still you loved him when he
kissed you goodnight. He’d hold you in the softest way possible, muscled arms
entrapped around you with touch as light as a feather, and similarly he’d used
the same arms dangerously with heated intent at someone else.
never got why people often told you that he was perfect for you. He was, in
your point of view, a mixture of positives and negatives. He was your opposite.
thing about opposites was that when a unity occurred, it would be a co-existent
dependency that held itself with tension.
loved him more than he loved himself. That was probably the reason why the
balance wasn’t right and he pushed himself off, leaving you in the dust.
you alright?” Surprisingly, Cheryl Blossom would be the first person to
question you that today. The said Blossom stood above you, her red curls down
the right side of her chest, a hand on her hip and a raised eyebrow. You tried
to hide the flinch that came with Cheryl’s edged tone, but she assumingly
noticed it since she took it herself to sit next to you on that noisy lunch
to me,” she demanded. “I don’t want anyone on my squad to be sadder than my
supposed star quality. You cannot rain on my parade on this week’s performance.”
fine,” you muttered as you picked on your salad.
a stupid boy doesn’t have the right to state your mood status.” She hissed. “There
are 7 billion people in the world. God knows how much boys will there be after
your life post-Reggie Man—“
Cheryl,” You stood up. “I said I’m fine!”
words were a little too loud, and laced with anger. The whole open-lawn cafeteria
went into a full pregnant pause from your little burst and your eyes betrayed
you as it went to a familiar face that you couldn’t just let go off. His
smirking, never ceasing, hardly-caring face wavered slightly as he looked your
way, as everyone had. He looked down once before pushing his left foot off benched
on the seat and faced in the opposite direction, going back into a conversation
with Chuck Clayton.
couldn’t care less what that meant and you sped off from your table, grabbing
your cellphone with you. Opening the text message up on your interface, your
quivering fingers typed out a reply before hitting send.
thought you said I couldn’t see you again,” the tall and handsome boy chuckled
as he sat coolly on the stools that they had in Pop’s. His tousled, brown waves
would shine into a blondish side under the neon lights of Pop’s infamous signs,
and his pretty blue eyes would turn your messy head into a complete haze of
white noise. “I missed you,” Jackson voiced out, echoing what he had recently texted you that morning.
was seven in the evening, and mostly everyone had this night tacked to watch
the last screening due for the closing Midnight Drive-In. You had thought to go
but you knew that it would simply be another place that would haunt you again
with memories that happened in the arms of a familiar stranger.
couldn’t resist,” you whispered zealously, biting your lip, then striding
towards him until both of your faces had no space with each other. He kissed
back passionately, and you followed along in accord, ignoring the way your
heart bleated in a monotonous fashion, like it was a routine you followed every
morning. Fingers tracing down his rugged, jean jacket, you stopped as it went
to a tracing on his arm. A tattoo of a dangerous serpent.
it,” he pushed himself off you and went to slip down his sleeves. “Any good ‘ole
folk wouldn’t wanna see that snake on a young thing’s skin.”
young thing, huh?” You titled your head, letting him caress your cheek. It made
you feel like being touched by an intruder. You held your tongue from stating
that out loud. “I heard that your buddies are over at the drive-in tonight.”
the handsome, rugged boy agreed, holding your hand like a whisper. “But you’re
much better than any movie, let’s agree. Pretty and innocent [y/n][y/l/n].”
my father saw you with me,” you told him with a trace of a smile hinting on
your lips while leading the boy down to a booth. “He would freak,” you ended
with a pendulous but crude smirk, as the feeling of going behind your parents’
back often created a brilliant feeling of teenage rebellion.
the light that would go unperturbed that night beneath the luminescence of you
with the boy from the Serpents would go back unlit as a sudden burst of
unexpected customers walked in the empty Pop’s.
was a famous group of blue and yellow hues, the king, the boy in between the
boisterous and rowdy laughs, and you couldn’t help but shake as his eyes
immediately turned toward the serpent and your contumacious self.
Reggie Mantle took it upon himself to breeze through the rows of booths with a
face of disbelief, his voice rising. And as you expected, anger rising as his
comical face slowly slipped to stone cold when his eyes landed on the lingering
fingers of the serpent teenager on your arm. “Who the hell is he?”
off, Reggie,” you glared, bringing yourself to whisper to your current partner
beside you, “Ignore him.” You tried your best to act a casual as possible,
though the sudden racing of your heart that went with the way your ex-boyfriend
stared at you in a mix of hardening confusion and indignation.
other football players were left in a fit of widening eyes as Reggie, in
impulsion, went and grabbed your arm in fury, “I’m taking you home.”
it was a laughable scene, provided that you have been in witness in a
circumstance like this before; on the contrary, you were always behind him
before, supporting him like a good girlfriend. Until now.
showed the chaos within him through the bones between his knuckles—several
scars made proof of that. Now, you were his enemy, the one that caused the fire
beneath his eyes. The booths made a guarded ring.
the hell, man—“ The serpent boy scoffed before
Reggie snapped and gripped and landed a good punch with no regret on the other
boy’s face. That started a full-blown fight, which lead pandemonium where
Moose, Chuck, and several others hurriedly tried to pull the Asian off the
other boy. Reggie’s blows were pernicious, and over the yells of the football
team trying to stop the fight, the only thing you could do was watch everything
on public property, what on earth caused you to do that?!” And Mrs. Mantle let
out a startled shriek and tried to shield her son as Mr. Mantle gave a tumultuous
slap on Reggie’s already bruising face. You gripped your jacket, feeling the
cotton and thinking of it as abrasive as hooves, guilt going off you in waves
as the only thing you could do was watch the aftermath unfold in the Mantle
estate, where you had been protectively ushered off to with your parents and
Sheriff Keller due to Pop’s emergency dial.
is getting out of hand,” Reggie’s father continued, a harsher than stern look
on his purple face. Yanking back his hand, his gaze shot to you, which you
couldn’t bear to hold longer than a second. “This boy has been nothing but
trouble this year—I swear, this was the last straw, Reginald. I need to ship him
was my fault,” you found your voice, hurried and not gentle at all—willing
to cross out the guilt killing your tightening chest. Your parents’
tension-heavy faces whipped their heads to you, their protected daughter that
could hardly do no wrong in this world. “I came there with Jackson—“
I fought him, she had nothing to do
with th—“ Reggie hastily claimed, harsh and
scarily void of emotion. He was seemingly too callous from responding to his
father—and you had realized that this
could have been happening more so than none and that this boy could have grown
up this way, and while your heart was pouring from hearing him protect you, you
knew that it was your call to turn things around.
you squeaked, hearing yourself panic. “I guess I was being rebellious, I met up
with Jackson, and – and- “ You eyed your father. “He was with me and Reggie saw
me and Jackson did something and he got provoked,” you finished, lying. You
looked at Reggie, and he gazed at you, turmoil and hurt swirling in his eyes.
led to a tension-filled silence. You closed your eyes, and could hear the
sounds of Reggie’s father’s footsteps going off to a direction. Somewhere that’s
not here, of course.
that shouldn’t have happened,” he would tell you days later, smirk latched to
his lips like a boy to a candy bar. He’d say it would no feeling, no emotion,
as if he wasn’t someone that was in what happened and he was merely a person
who’d heard of what happened.
memory of his father slapping him because of you would haunt you forever, and
your eyes would wander to his cheek not due to any romantic purpose, but the
ache of wondering how much it hurt to protect you, a person he shouldn’t even
be caring for anymore.
sorry,” you ignored his first statement, and spat out what you needed to say.
The hallways were empty. “I was being petty. I wanted to—“
The words were dignified to be stated out in the open. “I wanted to forget
silence mocked you. The 6’3 handsome and usually word-y jock—the
boy you really, just really, really
loved, gazed at you as if your turbulence, though with a slip of concern on his
façade. You continued, lips burning with words you only imagined you would say
in a dream, “You hurt me, Reggie. I hated
you for making me spend a summer without you. So, yeah. I did something. I slept with that douchebag,
that serpent, just to forget about
you. So, fuck you.”
response was instant. An utter storm shadowed over his face. “Fuck me? Fuck me? Are you fucking kidding me?” His
fingers wrapped tightly around his coifed hair, eyes blazing with chasms of
void and anger. “The only thing I ever did was goddamn protect you! If you hadn’t
been so stupid, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I shouldn’t have protected you
from the start if it was going to lead this way.”
me from the start?” You questioned, beckoned with hatred.
I’ve always been protecting you. I love
you, [y/n]. So much. The reason I ended things is because you were going to end
up broadcasted on this shitty book and—“ Reggie sighed and you looked at
him confusingly. He stepped forward, “Look, last year I was in hell. My dad
caught me doing some stupid shit and he was going to blame it on you. I needed to protect you, it was instinct. I had to break up with you
because I couldn’t bear the guilt that—“
time, it was your turn to slap him. Reggie snapped his head back at you,
stupid jerk,” your body shook from relief and at the same time, numbness. “You
couldn’t have at least told me about that? I literally cried for a week because
I thought I wasn’t good enough for you, the great Reggie freaking Mantle.”
stared at what only could have been eons, before shaking his head and returning
a soft gaze that was only for you. “I’m sorry.”
could shake your head as he placed out his warm hand next to yours, swirling
and wrapping it around yours in the gentlest way possible.
was an epiphany, when you looked at him and you had finally seen a glimpse of an extent that he
would do for you. The balance was off and you had thought of it in the wrong way.
He loved you more than he loved
omg i’m so sorry. whenever i write i’d always get so carried away with excessive details and annoying character musings!!! please tell me what you think! feel free to reblog or like or message me! always open to hear what you guys think huehue. :)
So I know Jughead’s dad is terrible at parenting, but I’m proud of him. That was some solid parenting in episode 10. Guys, he is the reason Jughead and Betty are still together… All because Jughead’s dad wouldn’t let his son walkout on the best thing that’s every happened to him. Good job, dad.