This ended up longer then expected, sorry! And sorry if it sucks
“I told you-”
“Don’t you dare finish that senten- Achoo!” Warn Y/N, only to end up sneezing. Adam, with an unimpressed look, continue on with what he was saying. “As I was going to say, I told you that playing outside in the snow was a bad idea”. Adam says this as he offers a handkerchief to Y/N. As Y/N blow their nose, Adam pulls the banket higher on the his bed sheets. For he offer that Y/N would rest in his bed for the night, which Y/N accepted.
When Y/N stop blowing their nose to look at Adam, who is sitting on a chair next to the bed, they grumble as they cross their arms in front of their chest: “Yeah, well. It’s your fault that I’m sick!”.
“My fault? How on earth is it my fault?!” Ask Adam, confuse and slightly angry.
“For starts, if you didn’t drop that huge pile of snow onto of me. Then maybe I won’t get sick, mmm?”
“We were having a snow ball fight! Isn’t that the whole point of a snow ball fight? To hit your opponent with snow?”
“Yeah, hit your opponent with snow! Not drowned them with sno- sno- Achoo!”
Adam shakes his head at Y/N’s comment. Annoyances and angry completely wash away by Y/N’s weak attempt to argue. Which is an adorable amusing slight for Adam because he finds himself fighting away a grin that threaten to show on his face.
Adam get’s up to gently push Y/N on their back so that they may rest. “I think it’s time for you to get some rest.” Said Adam as they bring the blanket up to Y/N chin.
“Yeah yeah. Alright. But don’t think this lets you off the hook, Princey!”Y/N said as they grab Adam’s hand.
“Princey?” Ask Adam, confuse about the nickname he randomly receive. “Right. Goodnight Y/N” Adam said. Only to receive no answer. Adam looks down to see that Y/N has already fall asleep. Adam chuckle at the slight and lean down to give Y/N a forehead kiss.
As Adam gets up to walk out of the room. He feels a grip tighten on his hand. Adam looks down to see Y/N is still holding onto his hand. Adam blush slightly, though it wasn’t noticeable because of his fur, at the physical contact. Adam tries to pull his hand free, only for the grip to tighten. Knowing the only way to free himself would involve waking up Y/N. Adam sigh in defeat and slowly, get into the bed next to Y/N.
As Adam gets underneath the bed sheets. Y/N turns over and cuddle up against Adam who is a little shock from the gesture but returns the gesture. Both of them fall asleep, dreaming of the enjoyable moments that happen earlier the day, with a found smile on their faces.
“Oh, how the tables have turn” said Y/N as they bring the blanket higher.
“Oh. S-shut up!-Achoo!” complain Adam, trying to sound intimidating only to sneeze instead. Y/N laughs at Adam’s fail attend to scare them.
“Relax, Adam. I’m just teasing” reply Y/N as they smile happily at Adam. “Well, it’s good to see your feeling better…Better enough to give me your illness.” Adam grumble as he gets comfort in bed.
“Yes, it’s a good thing I’m feeling better. Better enough to look after you, Princey~” Y/N said as they wink at Adam.
‘Thank god for having fur’ Thought Adam. For if he was a human in that moment, Y/N would be able to see him blushing.
Soulmates. A concept so familiar yet, so different.
Letters, a sentence, something was engraved onto everyone once they reached the age of 12.
Someone was bound to you since they were born; since you were born.
Most people found theirs early on; others weren’t as lucky.
Most gave up.
You didn’t care much, but it didn’t hurt to try.
You stared at the back of your hand, the words “y’aint” engraved in such a delicate handwriting on the skin. You grimaced at the word.
“Who in the world uses y’aint?” You questioned aloud, obviously a little frustrated at the odd word. Your friend, Peggy Schuyler, glanced over at you, noticing your frustrated state.
‘Is that even grammatically correct?” You rubbed your temples in frustration. Why was y’aint a word you thought to yourself, scowling. You felt a hand on your shoulder and you looked up to see your friend. You sighed and put your head down on the table. Peggy grinned at you, obviously giving off the connotation that she had something planned.
“(Y/N)~” You grunted in acknowledgement of her presence. Her grin grew wider.
“I set you up on a da-” You jerked your head up and glared at her. She merely laughed at you.
“Don’t you dare continue that senten-” Peggy pulled you out from your seat and finished what she was saying earlier.
“I set you up on a date with my someone I know~”
“Stop right there. I am not going.” Peggy glanced at you with a sort of…puppy dog eyes. You held your ground.
“Please (Y/N?)? It’s going to be fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuun!” You rolled your eyes. She pulled on your sleeve like a child would. You huffed.
“Fine. One condition though.” She cheered while you rubbed your temples; what had you gotten yourself into.
“Anything! What is it?” She questioned, looking at you for your response.
“You come with me.” She pulled you into a hug and squealed.
“Of course of course! Anything for you!” You tried to wriggle your way out of the hug as Peggy began rambling about all the fun you guys were going to have.
“Peggy.” You said in the most monotonous voice ever. Peggy hummed in acknowledgement.
“Yes, (Y/N)?” You reached for a hoodie before she slapped your arm. You frowned.
“Why am I wearing this?” You gestured to your outfit. It wasn’t anything to extravagant; just a simple, casual dress. A color that was such an eyesore for you; magenta. Peggy turned to face you while getting ready herself.
“You have to look presentable, (Y/N)! Haven’t you ever gone on a date before?” She responded before turning back around to apply more makeup.
“Er- no.” Peggy almost dropped her things once you said that. She whipped her head around with the most flabbergasted look on her face.
“Never?” You shook your head no to emphasize your point.
“Never.” She crossed her arms. You raised your arms in surrender.
“You must be lying- there is no possible way you’ve never been on a date.” You shrugged.
“Never really cared enough.” Peggy gasped before beginning to ramble on and on and on about how this had to be the /perfect/ date for you and your blind date. You shushed her and reassured her you didn’t care if it went well or not.
She almost smacked the life out of you.
Man is that woman scary.
“Let’s go, (Y/N)!” She cheerily said before dragging your fear stricken self out the door and into her car.
“Jefferson, say that word again and I swear to God I will kick you into the sun.” You so happened to hear as you and Peggy waited for your date.
“What word, Hamilton?” You glanced over at the sound of the voices and saw 2 men arguing in a corner of the room. Peggy followed your gaze and a sly smile snuck onto her face. She grabbed your arm and before long, you were confronting the two men.
‘Hello Alexander.” The smaller man stopped mid sentence and waved at Peggy.
“Peggy.” The so called “Alexander” glanced over at you and blinked.
“Is that Jefferson’s da-” Peggy tackled him onto the floor.
“You’re going to ruin it-” She hissed and Alexander’s face was so pale, you could’ve sworn he died for second there. You raised a brow. The man next to you (who you assumed was the Jefferson he was threatening earlier) began to taunt him again.
“Y’aint gonna get up, Hamilton?” Alexander looked like he was ready to murder the man. You, on the other hand, wheezed before glancing at your wrist. That was the word-
“Say that word again and I’ll personally throw you into the sun.” You huffed out, rather upset with the use of that word. You noticed he tensed up slightly. Your eyes widened in realization. He looked at you, understanding what happened.
“We’re soulmates-” You both said in sync. You turned and saw Alexander and Peggy have the same look on their face. Peggy got up and cleared her throat.
“I’ll be leaving now! (Y/N), have fun~”
“Peggy I swear to god.” Too late, she was dragging an “upset” Alexander out the door; you and the man next to you knew he wasn’t actually mad. The man turned to face you and took your hand. Placing his lips near your knuckles, he began to introduce himself.
“Thomas. Thomas Jefferson.” You hummed in acknowledgment.
“(Y/N).” You responded, trying to your blush from appearing.
“(Y/N), huh? A lovely name.”
You blinked. You never really thought about your name much; you’ve lived with it for years. Your thoughts were interrupted as you felt a pressure on your mouth. Eyes widening in surprise, you snapped out of your thoughts and saw that Thomas was kissing you. Your face heated up at the sudden act of affection. You weren’t used to affection. Pulling away, Thomas looked down at you grinned at your flustered state.
“Want to head back to my place? It’ll be more interesting than this boring ol’ place here.” You shrugged; you didn’t care where you went. As long as you were with him, you were fine.
“Sure.” You responded, flusteredness from his surprise kiss dying down. He linked his arms with yours and walked you back to his house. And that’s when you made your mistake; he threw all the bad pickup lines he knew at you.
“I think you’re suffering from a lack of Vitamin Me.” You punched him in the arm as he laughed at your reactions.
“Thomas Jefferson- you stop that right now.”
“You still using Internet Explorer? You must like it nice and slow.” He purred out, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You were so ready to murder him. He chuckled at your cute expression before placing a quick kiss on your lips. Shocked, you stopped mid-step. Realizing what he had done, you growled slightly in anger and began to chase him, ready to kick him into the sun.
“THOMAS JEFFERSON GET YOUR SOUTHERN ASS OVER HERE.”
genre; fluffs + mingyu bein a flirt, the good stuff
synopsis; an anon requested a baseball!au with mingyu and though it is no where near as long as woozi’s, it’s just something that i’d been thinking about. basically it’s you and mingyu bein’ cute when he tries to show you how to do his famous pitch and just know it hurt me a lot writing this :’)
“If you keep staring at yourself in the mirror, you’ll miss practice."
The words wryly rolled off your tongue upon watching a very meticulous Kim Mingyu rake crooked fingers through his hair, brows pinched together in pure focus as his gaze bore into the tiny mirror magnetized to his locker. You had been fiddling with his baseball cap for the past few minutes or so, trying very roughly to scrape together some patience.
"My hair looks stupid.” Mingyu mumbled in a manner that made it seem he was containing a conversation with himself. A sigh that stretched deeper than the ocean heaved past your lips, a stiff hand thrusting Mingyu’s baseball cap directly into his chest. You examined how he brushed back his messy bangs of dark gingerbread before fitting the cap rightfully so over his head, giving himself one final inspection that you secretly deemed unnecessary.
“It won’t matter anyways,” you balked to Mingyu while slamming his locker door shut, “your hat is covering it all up.” He faced you with a pout that only brought out the natural pink tint to his lips, sultry eyes of darkened oak gleaning over you petulantly.
“You’re not suppose to agree with me, babe.” The lanky boy protested, though his sulky ways were suddenly disintegrating with a snap, hands pushing up the sleeves on his worn out baseball uniform while he bounced on the heels of his feet.
He was gazing somewhere past the top of your head, presumably littering himself with encouragements to get himself excited for practice. That is until he checked his watch, pupils blowing into full and inky discs before Mingyu was sprinting down the hall.
“Shit,” he had warbled, “I’m 12 minutes late!”
Shocker. You couldn’t avoid thinking, a grin just peaking along your lips as you wandered down the empty hall and out the doors, a glimmer of sunlight languidly washing over the schoolyard.
Mingyu was still rushing toward the baseball field, one of your featherlight chuckle’s ringing in the air upon the sight of a much shorter baseball player whacking him on the head. You made your way to the bleachers to watch him practice, soaking up the sunlight while it was pleasantly available.
Mingyu was the baseball team’s best pitcher, and someone you befriended while accidentally getting hit in the stomach with a baseball bat during eighth grade. He was the one who struck you rather harshly, though it was completely your fault for concentrating on your iPod while approaching some scruffy kid rambling over his, new and improved striking power.
He spent a good amount of breath apologizing to you, but even spent even more breath bombarding you with questions of, did you see my stance though? First impressions were, yeah, he’s kinda dumb and a bit cocky but he’s cute and one of the only people here who talk to me.
You could and would easily say to anyone that you had a strong bond, the two of you sticking it out through the hellish ways of high school. Under a very watchful eye did you get to see that scruffy and kinda clueless kid flourish into some rich gift from the heavens, your heart slamming into your throat when you snatched a proper glimpse of him on your first day of senior year.
Summary: Baekhyun is studying himself into an early grave. Chanyeol is giving Baekhyun’s number out to the people he pisses off. Kyungsoo just wants a bedroom with a door
Reasons Why You Submitted: *wipes tear* so this is like THE MOST relatable fic of all regarding what it feels like to go through uni along with the truckload of inseurites about the future and stuff. Yet it’s light-ish. And fluffy. It’t has that proverbial Baeksoo dynamic we all love with Soo being kinda cold and very blunt and has murderous tendencies but still he’s a cute little button and Baek is just a noisy and hella smug little shit. AND THE WRITING!!! cuz damn the writing matters. beautiful af. beautiful af in the way, super fun sentene structure and kind of rambly, but niiiiiiceee rambly in the way that you totally feel like you’re in baek’s head. Oh! and chanbaek friendship. Super goood chanbaek friendship. Chanbaek friendships r the beeest. Uhm, idk what else to say to advertise this fic, but i really hope this suffices cuz WHOA. WHOAAA. if u went like WHOAAA after reading, pls let the author know how much WHOAAA u felt :D
I'm sure your girlfriend isn't venting to you because you personally haven't been good enough to her, maybe its just because she dosen't want to upset you/"burden" you with her problems. Some people get insecure over that kind of thing and the best thing you can really do is make them feel loved, supported and appreciated, then they should do the same for you in return. You definitely arent shitty and you shouldn't be dead, we all appreciate you very much and it hurts us to see you this way :(
ahh i’m sorry this is so late nd i’m sorr y if i worried you but this was very very sweet of you to send in i really really hope your’e having a good week you really deserve it
One thing I have to appreciate about the show is how they portray how a dystopia like Homeworld could be superficially fair and reasonable to the Gems living inside it. Zircon is a defense attorney, proving that a legal defense is not only present in Homeworld’s justice system, but is provided even for worst possible crimes a Gem can commit. Sure Zircon’s reputation is gonna take a hit because of this and she really wasn’t giving time to prepare an adequate defense, but the fact that she’s even there proves that at least on Homeworld proper, there’s a dedication to due process.
I’m guessing Blue Diamond got away with ordering Ruby shattered without such due process was a reference to how the rules of society are constantly discarded in times of war. It’s likely if Ruby WERE properly tried, shattering wouldn’t even be considered as a senten
*INTP takes a deep breath* Okay, so Sentence a (parenthesis… pauses because their brain was faster than their words. Finishes with modified parenthesis), rest of sentence a. *picks up speed* Thus Senten- Stutters. Starts Sentence b again. Weird, high-pitched noise/imitation that illustrates their point. Uses their eyebrow game. A very, very long sentence c. Why Question 1? Because Answer 1. Or Alternative Answer 2. Perhaps Sarcastic answer 3. Huffs for comedic effect. Sentence d.1. Sentence d.2 (the other side of their argument). So yeah. Sentence e. Question 2? Quiet sigh.
Oh, you don’t know Living Single, but I’m supposed to know everything about Frasier?
Good news, your crash course in the Great American Songbook starts immediately and lasts forever!
I mean, that’s 78¢ down the drain.
Without blue, my whole weekly rotation is off. I can’t wear a green scrunchie on Thursday. Everyone will think I’m horny.
Tougher than keeping hope alive in a bunker where the end of your braid is your toothbrush and your best friend?
He’s usually much more of a someone else’s problem than this.
Hey, door. What’s up? Cool, cool. You ever miss being a tree? Yeah, I get that.
It smells like Salon Selectives and silverfish poison?
It’s fine if you threw it out, you just owe me 78¢.
And I’ll pay you when I have that kind of money lying around.
So make a fake photo album. In my experience, if someone has good pictures and a glue stick, they can make it look like they dunked on Jesus, and some girls will believe it, for, like, 15 years.
I’m like a biscotti. People act like I’m this sweet cookie, but I’m really this super hard thing that nobody knows what I am or why I am.
Hey, other robot guys, let’s go save the sun or whatever.
Oh, no. Now I’ll have to lie down and be left alone.
Are you listing things at me?
I’ve always had help from someone: a nanny or a driver or an iPad taped to a bag of sugar.
I don’t know how to do this. What if it poops?
He loves the big slide at 66th Street ‘cause sometimes nannies fall down it.
♪ Stoop Crone, no loitering please. Stoop Crone, you’re kind of a skeeze. ♪
It’s from Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Croon, Crone, Croon! Which was eventually reworked into The Sound of Music.
Don’t be disgusting, (name). It’s from Daddy’s Boy, an innocent musical about a father’s love for his infant son.
You’re dating a nice boy, your one-man show went good, and you got a free piano. This is the best your life has ever gone.
♪ This is just an ordinary day. I’m just an ordinary gay. Which is why I’m talking to you in such an ordinary way. ♪
♪ I am dancing away from you, I am prancing away from you ♪
I was finally able to finish my tell-all book about my boss. It’s called Sippy Cup Rosé and it’s gonna have a shoe on the cover.
I know you haven’t been studying because I found your GED books coated with a day’s worth of asbestos.
Also, try not to breathe in here too much from now on and before.
If all this is about helping (name), then how come your bookmark is this? It’s all right here in your MASH. Apparently you’re gonna live in a shack, drive a Porsche, honeymoon at FAO Schwarz, all with your husband (name).
How does the Kool-Aid Man do this?
So I waited for years in a tiny Murray Hill apartment, not a pot to piss in.
I know you’re tough and you never give up. Sometimes the hardest thing to do is just quit and walk away.
Sorry, but giving up isn’t my jam. My jams are grape, jock, and space.
♪ You do not define me, Richard, I cannot be owned. And if I had my way, Richard, I would die alone. Eaten by birds. Digested by birds. Shat out by birds. Alone. ♪
When I was singing before, it didn’t even occur to me that I was happy. I thought it was just gas coming out in a weird way.
Happiness is fleeting, (name), and you fleeted it!
I did it. I’m like a female Mr. Mom.
See what happens when you don’t give up hope? Anything is possible! We should start a band!
I know you were frozen in ice for ten years or whatever…
So great, in fact, I’ll go to the drugstore myself, despite the fact the last time I was in a drugstore was in 2004, and an employee named LaDonica said to me, “Bitch, I don’t know your life.”
So your wife disappeared. It’s just you and no wife right now?
Yes. We are both thinking about not giving up in the exact same way right now.
Who knows you better than I do? We finish each other’s senten… ces.
And wow, this is weird, but I already have an album full of pictures of us.
Me? Your wife thinks she’s hooking up with Neptune!
(Name), I guess I’ll just see you when you have that 78¢ for my scrunchie. You can bring it by whenever.
I’ll let you know how it goes, maybe give you some answers. Abraham Lincoln, potassium, four… that kind of stuff.
You’re not a gown at all, you monster!
Puppy-naming section, go! Dexter, Patches, Reggie! Skip it and come back. Ginger, Winston, Beemer!
I don’t go to where you work and tell you to wake me up.
Give the mannequin its arm back.
I just… I don’t like giving up on stuff. I still want Nickelodeon to take over my school.
You’re like one of those ladies who go to Montreal, and then, suddenly, everything is about Montreal.
(Name), the sooner you quit something that stinks, the sooner you can find something that doesn’t. Save your hope for that.
Maybe you’ll marry (name), maybe you’ll break up. Maybe you’ll live together for decades, but then he’ll die first of an awful brain disease.
Is that from Gangly Orphan Jeff, the ill-fated musical that opened six days after Annie?
♪ Keep a dream in your heart and you’ll never ever, want for more. Unless you’re in a knife fight. ♪
♪ Spit in the eye of the folks who can’t stop laughing, at the stupid things you’ve done. ♪
On February 12th of 2002 I was
convicted of violating the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act of 1986 and about
twenty other related crimes. I was sentenced to twenty years in a maximum
On June 2nd of 2002 I was released from prison and sent on my
way. I was not placed on probation or parole. Those not intimately familiar
with my case might scoff at the above statements, but they are completely
factual. It is the events that occurred during that four month period that are
the reason my sentence was commuted and I was sent home.
arrived at the United States Medical Center for Federal Prisoners in
Springfield, Missouri on February 13th of 2002 at roughly nine in the morning.
The two U.S. Marshals who delivered me handed the intake officer a stack of
paperwork and signed a form before leaving me in the care of the Bureau of
I was eighteen years old and wet behind the ears. I had a lengthy
juvenile record, but this was the big leagues. A guard read through my intake
form and said,“Hacker huh? You a homo or something?” I
replied, “No. Of course not.” He laughed, “If you’re a
homo you should tell me now. Homos go to a special cell block.”
proceeded to do a cavity search and corralled me into a shower were he sprayed
me with a hose and then issued me my prisoner uniform, shoes, belt, hygiene
supplies a towel, blanket and a badge with my prisoner number on it.
I was lucky. I had been assigned to C
Block. C block had private rooms and a common area. My room was a ten foot by
six foot cell that had a single bunk, a jail toilet with a sink in the basin,
and a locker that served as a nightstand and a table. There was a camera in the
upper left hand corner over this three-inch thick steel door with a single
tempered glass window at just about eye level.
Okay, so now that I’ve given you an
idea of what kind of place I was at. Let me get down to brass tacks. This was a
giant stone building where every imaginable evil was committed on a daily basis
for the better part of seventy years by the time I got there. I’m not asking
you to believe in ghosts, but that prison is haunted. Inmates would report
hearing rustling noises outside their doors or knocking on the walls behind
their cells. Nearly everyone on C block had a story about Old Jim.
If you could change the world, would you do it? If you could stop pain and suffering with one movement, would you do it? If millions of people could be saved, would you save them? If the love of your life would stand in the way, would you still do it?
Word count: 842
A/N: So this is the first chapter, I know that it’s a bit slow and short but I promise, things are getting pretty interesting in chapter 2!
Something I will never understand is war. No one wants it and still here we are. The thought of victory is what drives people to do crazy things. People lose them selfes in war, including me. One thing i have learned about war is that someone will lose and someone will win. Therefore it has to be two sides, it’s them vs us. They happen to be the bad guys, well known as The First Order. They posses a great threat, Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren is a force user, he was a Jedi knight. He used to be Luke Skywalker’s apprentice and the son of General Organa and Han Solo. He was my true love.
We are the good guys, the Resistance who fight for freedom in the galaxy. Since Luke disappeared I happen to be the last force user of the light. For that reason people call me the angel, the one who was born from the light, the one who will bring peace and order, the one who will eliminate Kylo Ren. It’s harder then it sounds, I have high expectations and a major legacy to for fill. Un top of that i’m conflicted, he is my weakness. I can’t kill him, that would destroy me from the inside out, but if I don’t he will kill me. Yes he have killed millions of people, he have tortured many including me. He even made the unforgivable choice, he chose the dark, he chose to forget love, he chose to forget me. But somehow i still love him.
I feel a single tear slip down my cheek, I furrow my eyebrows and rube it of harshly, not wanting to show petty for him. I was so deep in thought that I didn’t notis someone taking a seat next to me. ”You are hard to find, I’ve been looking for you the past hour, I don’t know why I never thought of looking here, you practically live on the roof” Oh shit I was going to meet him in the hanger an hour ago. He is Poe Dameron, the best pilot in the whole Resistance, also my best friend. ”Yeah sorry about that, I just needed to clear my head before the mission” ”Well that’s understandable, have you thought about Ren?” ”I always do, I just don’t know how to react if I meet him face to face” I frown, I really am confused. ”Well you won’t have to worry about an encounter with him, the general don’t want you near him, she can feel your distress” ”but I have to face him, it’s my duty to the resist-” Poe cut me of before I could finish my formel answer. ”Angel we both know that it’s not your duty to kill him, we do know your past with him, the general would never put you through a situation like that in your current state. I do hear you sometimes, late in the night screaming his name almost begging for mercy, he won’t touch you I see to that.” I smile, because I always know that Poe got my back, though i’m afraid that it will cost him his life. ”Thank you Poe” ”Everything for you angel, now we better get going, Jakku is waiting” ”Yeah let’s get that map shall we”
Why do I always lose my lightsaber, especially before a mission. I always put it right here where is it.”Looking for this?” I turn around only to be face to face with General Organa. ”General, yes thank you” I take the weapon out of here grasp and nod as a gesture for thankfulness. ” Y/N you can drop the formalities with me, you know that, just call me Leia” ”Well thank you Leia” ”Your very welcome, now you have to promise me one thing, be careful out there, if I know my son right he’s already on his way to Jakku, so hurry now.” I gulp at the thought of seeing Kylo again but scrooge it of and give her a half hearted smile. ”Of course Gener- Leia, after all I was trained by Luke, I can defend myself.” ”Oh I know Y/N I just don’t want to lose you” ”And you won’t, I’ll return with the map in no time you’ll see.” She hugs me and lays her hand on my cheek before she turn around and leave. I put my lightsaber in my belt and put my robe on with the hood up. It’s best to hold a low profile while on Jakku, a handfull of bounty hunters would love to have my head on a stake.
Poe starts the negotiations while I stand by the ship with BB-8 to gard. ”I’ll bet Poe will come back empty handed, he really do suck at the negotiation part” ”Beep beep beeep” ”Oh your on, you’ll see he won’t get the ma-” I stopped mid sentens when I felt a shift in the force. My heart beat quickens, my palms start to sweat, my thoughts are clouded and I feel empty. He’s here.
“I love you too Sw-,” Killian attempted to whisper but a soft kiss cut his words short.
Emma fell off of him with a giggle, pushing her body back under the sheets, her eyes pulling momentarily away from his handsome face in an attempt to get comfortable.
“You know love, if you keep kissing me like that I’ll never be able to finish a senten-“
Emma laughed once more at the humor of his unfinished statement, assuming this was another one of his attempts to be funny. “Hilarious,” she said turning her face back to Killian’s who was silent for the first time sense they had fallen in bed together.
Only unlike the lines of pleasure that had once creased his brow, now his face seemed contorted in a painful expression. His palm, clear in the pale glimmer of moonlight, was pushed tight against the left side of his jugular.
“Killian,” Emma continued, a short laugh still in her throat over whatever joke she hoped he was trying to make.
“Swan,” he murmured under the crescent glow, and it was now when she heard him speak that she knew something was wrong. “Swan what’s happening,” he asked, his voice catching in his throat.
Panic rushed over Emma and she quickly thrust herself back out from under the linens, hurling her body towards the light switch with intense fury.
It took only a second after the light filled the room to see what was happening. For as she returned back to the bed, the image of the man she loved filled her eyes in crisp resolution. Emma took in the scene at lightening speed, analyzing every frame of him in a desperate attempt to seek out the cause of his pain and mend it.
At the corner of his perfectly pink lips sat a stain of crimson blood. It was small, nothing short of a dribble, but instantly it sent a heat wave of panic through her insides.
“Killian,” Emma yelled, throwing herself above his body and putting her hand over the his palm which was clutched tight to his neck.
“Excalibur,” he said moving his hand away from his skin to showcase the same wound he had obtained in Camelot. A wound that had long healed but now seemingly was back in place.
“What-no-“ Emma yelled again, confusion and hurt searing beneath her skin like hot liquid. Quickly she bunched up the sheets, pressing the white fabric to the open wound, which in turn had begun to change the color of the covers to a dark red. “Killian,” she began again. Her voice breaking as it came out. Tears drenching her face as she applied greater pressure.
Hook said nothing. Instead his mouth simply opened and closed briefly, in a desperate attempt to speak, resulting only in failure. Emma watched the horrible sight of her true loves eyes falling shut and his breath crashing to a sputter before being entirely silenced.
“Killian,” she yelled again, her hands shaking over his throat, burning with a power that seemed to be failing in its attempts to heal him. She watched the white glow encase the entirety of his neck and then his body, but still the wound continued to pour fresh blood.
“Killian,” she said again, only louder. For there was nothing else she could do but let his name pour off her tongue and crash against the walls of their bedroom.
* * * *
“Emma Love, wake up,” Killian said. Immense worry rattling the confines of his words as he shook Emma’s body awake. Her skin was wet with sweat beneath his fingertips and as her eyes shot open, quickly he acknowledged the panic that burned inside them.
“K-Killian” she breathed harshly, her words escaping from her mouth as if she had been submerged under water and was just now catching her breath.
“Emma, it’s alright,” he said, taking her body into his arms, his hands pulling her skin tightly to his own in an attempt to comfort her. “You’re were screaming in your sleep again,” he explained. “But you’re safe,” he announced, whispering the words against her ear not once but twice as confirmation.
They sat there for a moment like this. Her wrapped tightly in his arms. Him holding her head close to the groove of his shoulder, quieting the shivers that passed over her in the dead of the night. Two pieces in their rightful places, doing what they did best. Protecting each others hearts.
“I’m sorry,” she said, all of a sudden sobering up and tearing herself away from him. “It was just a dream.”
Killian took a deep breath, having heard these words for the fifth time this week, sense his return.
“These dreams,” he said, choosing his words carefully in an attempt to not add to whatever anxiety his Swan was already facing. “They’ve woken you like this almost every night this week.”
Emma smiled at the softness in his voice. The utter endearment and gentility in his tone . made her want to fall once more against him, but instead she moved further back, her eyes dropping away from his face.
Killian paused at this gesture, for she had spent many nights this week distancing herself after such an ordeal; clearly in some attempt to spare his feelings.
Slowly he examined Emma’s face, searching the canvas of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on for any kind of information he did not yet hold. Hoping to uncover the root of the issue, so he could take her hand and help her fix it.
Even here in the shadows, hair tangled and face dewy with sweat, Emma still made Killian’s breath catch in his chest. So much so that he had a shake himself out of it in order to get back on track.
“Ever sense my return,” he added, shaking himself from the enchantment of her image, a theory brimming in his mind, “you’ve been having nightmares.” He said, ensuring that this last word held a certain sense of conviction when spoken. Letting Emma know that he could see what was happening. Reminding her that he knew her through and through. And as such he knew whatever it was that she was dealing with, it wasn’t as simple as as a dream that had done the poor disservice of waking her up.
What was haunting her in her sleep was so much more. These were terrors attempting to creep in her mind. These were fears making themselves known.
“Emma if there’s something going on,” he began, moving her hair away from her face with his hook, following this gesture by brushing his thumb delicately under her chin. Slowly he moved her head up so they were again looking into each others eyes. “You can tell me anything, love. You know this.”
Emma looked at him, and she could see now for the first time this week that these nightmares that had woken her, were also taking a tole on him. He looked broken. Like what was happening to her was now happening to him as well. Like the terrible images her mind was scheming up in the dead silence of night was somehow his fault. And instead of sparing him the details as she wished to do … instead of sparing him the image of his death once more …and instead of sparing him the terror she herself felt from these dreams, she was only adding to an already overwhelming sense of worry.
“Killian you don’t think that these dre—nightmares are your fault,” she asked grabbing his hand now at the sudden realization, the whole of her concern placed solely on him.
“They are about me are they not,” he said guessing. The idea of himself as the dark one flickering through his mind as he spoke these words.
“Well yes,” she said quickly, not wishing to lie, but also wanting to move on and release the truth before he had too much time to soak in the blame.
“Emma,” he interrupted before she could continue. His voice was a hush between them. “I know you love me,” he said with a deep nervous breath that sent her heart dropping to her toes. “But I understand if my time as the dark one has left incorrigible marks.”
“Oh Killian, no,” she said, moving closer to him now, her body nearly melting into his flesh, as she closed the space in between them. “I haven’t been dreaming of you as the dark one,” she said, eyes brimming with tears.
“Then what is it,” he asked.
And Emma knew now, looking at the man she loved; staring into his eyes which were still distinguishably blue even in the darkest room of their house, that she had to let him know everything.
“Ever sense you returned,” she said choking back tears at the happiness this sentence still made her heart feel, “I just haven’t been able to stop dreaming about your death.”
Emma listened as Killian’s breath sunk deep into his chest, a mixture of relief and sadness consuming the sound.
“I’m so terrified,” she began again before he could speak.
Killian flinched at the break in her voice as these words escaped, but he kept his eyes on her own, listening to the thoughts she had kept pent up inside, knowing full well she needed to release whatever it was that had been eating away at her.
“I’m terrified that every time I touch you,” she said, braving the fear and running her hand over the stumble of his chin. She watched as he kept his eyes locked on hers but moved into her embrace, fitting perfectly in her palm. “That every time I kiss you,” she announced, tears welling up again in her eyes and pouring over her cheeks as she leaned in to plant her lips on his own. She sat there for a moment, feeling the spice of rum dance along her lips, and the pressure of his mouth beg her to remain.
“Every time I kiss you,” she repeated somewhat breathless as she pulled away from Killian’s mouth. “You’ll disappear again.” Emma drew in air, her eyes fluttering open as she did to look back at the man she loved so insanely.
“I know its stupid,” she admitted, her chest settling with a sigh.
“It’s not stupid love,” he announced, understanding the fear of once again leaving her side. “But it’s also no way to live.”
Emma nodded, knowing he was right, smiling as his thumb brushed away the remnants of her tears. Her skin buzzing from the heat of his flesh on her own.
“I know,” she whispered, catching his hand as it fell away from her face, and kissing it like he had done to her in the elevator of the Underworld.
“The future is always uncertain,” he said smiling as her lips pulled away from his hand. “But it’s also ours.”
Emma smiled, her face red with heat as a series of new images filtered through her mind at the hand of his words.
Images of a night spent in this room, wrapped up in each others arms, clothes sprawled haphazardly across beige carpet floor.
Images of burnt eggs and water downed coffee made with love from a man who still hadn’t grasped just how to use the new kitchen appliances.
Images of Killian and Henry talking about sailing, their maps covering the entirety of the kitchen table.
Images of a wedding.
Images of kids.
Images of a future.
Images of their future.
“And—” Killian attempted to start again, his voice now singsongy once he noticed the smile on Emma’s face. Hoping to spend the rest of his days ensuring that it stayed there in place.
“Let me guess,” Emma interrupted, jokingly tapping her finger against her chin, though she knew full well what he was going to say. “The future is nothing to be afraid of,” she finished for him, a laugh filtering through the air.
“Aye, Love,” he said, a smile filling his face.
Emma leaned forward again to kiss him, and having both lost all willpower, together they fell against the bed, wrapping each other tight in one anothers arms, allowing the beige floor to quickly gather their clothing, unknowingly lurching into effect just one of the many images that had just seconds ago danced through Emma’s mind.
For, you see, not only is the future nothing to be afraid of. But the future also happens to be now.