#autograph. & who had tourists ask him to take their photo and assumed they wanted a photo w him. he’s so funny. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

getalittleclosey · 4 years

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under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

#fic rec #mine #larry stylinson #one direction #apparently i really love objectlesson #cause they have fics on every list i think #30 of these!#fic masterpost

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welllpthisishappening · 5 years

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The Period of the Long Change (1/15)

It’s quick. One second she’s standing there and everything is fine and then Emma looks up and it’s not. It’s awful. And the lights are too bright and there are too many rooms and too many opinions and her phone won’t stop ringing because everything seems to be changing all at once. She’s never been great at coping with change. But, maybe, if she can just figure it out and stay right where she is, with Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, at her side, it’ll be alright.

It’s slow. One second he’s standing there and everything is fine and then Killian’s breath catches and it’s not. It’s terrifying. And the noises are too loud and there are too many questions and he can’t find the right answers to any of them, not sure how to cope with everything changing all at once. That’s never really been his forte. But, maybe, if he can just figure it out and stay right where he is, with Emma Swan, director of New York Rangers community relations, at his side, it’ll be alright.

It’s another season and another challenge and Emma and Killian are both struggling to get over the boards.

Rating: Mature. Word Count: 7.5′ish this chapter and just…a lot in this story AN: Hellllllooooo, internet. Approximately a million years ago, @optomisticgirl requested a story where Killian got hurt, but like…not too hurt, with some angst and some dramz and I…never wrote it. UNTIL! Over the course of, like, two and a half weeks this past summer, I churned out this entire, vaguely ridiculous thing. This story is about an injury, so if that is not your jam, I get it. But there is also a lot more than just Killian being an idiot here. There’s still kissing, is what i’m saying. As always, your enthusiasm for this hockey team and hockey family and how much I enjoy writing about them blows my mind. Updates coming every Tuesday and Friday, as per usual. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

Also on Ao3 and FF.net if that’s your jam.

“Theodore Roosevelt.” “You’re making that up.” “I’m not!” “Theodore Roosevelt never came to Nashville.” Emma narrowed her eyes, twisting her lips and hitching up the kid in her arms. The same kid who, it seemed, was far more interested in the ends of her hair than the very bright lights and decidedly loud noise that downtown Nashville provided.

“Why would I make that up?” she asked, and they’d stopped walking completely now, frozen in the middle of the sidewalk debating the merits of a fact she’d looked up on the plane earlier that morning.

She’d totally paid for wifi.

And Killian had fallen asleep. With a different kid draped over his side and a a knee digging into, Emma assumed, several different organs, and it was so goddamn adorable Emma knew she’d never be able to even close her eyes, let alone get anything resembling rest.

So she’d looked up fun facts about Nashville instead.

And let Peggy keep yanking on her hair.

“I really do not believe that,” Killian continued, Matt clinging to his back with his arms tightly around his neck and his legs wrapped around his middle and they must have looked absolutely insane.

It was, probably, because of all the team-branded merchandise they were collectively sporting.

Matt hadn’t taken his Jones jersey off once in the last week, not since he realized he got to go to Nashville too and Emma wasn’t entirely sure he completely understood what the All-Star game was, but Roland had done a pretty good job of trying to explain it and none of it really mattered when they both realized they were going on the ice for the skills competition.

So Matt refused to take the jersey off and practiced slaps for the past week, some kind of almost slap shot that was, according to both Will and Killian, closer to a wrist shot, but their kid was four and the specifics weren’t important when it was so consistently adorable.

Emma’s phone was going to run out of storage space for photos by the end of the weekend.

“Are you suggesting I’m making up my fact?”

“I’m not suggesting you’re making up your fact, Swan,” Killian said, shrugging to try and make sure he wasn’t inadvertently choked in the middle of downtown Nashville.

“Then what, exactly, are you suggesting?” “That you’ve been duped by the internet.”

“I refuse to believe the internet would lie to me.” Killian arched an eyebrow, but Emma didn’t waver, just widened her eyes in response and they were almost inexcusably far behind the rest of the team now. She could barely hear Will shouting – which was probably for the best, honestly, because Emma was fairly certain he’d been talking about some kind of mechanical bull before and Ruby kept wearing a cowboy hat and the whole thing was just kind of absurd.

And kind of adorable too, but that was neither here nor there when Emma had her internet reputation to worry about.

“Where did you learn this fact?” Killian pressed, taking a step closer to her until Emma was pretty sure they were breathing the same oxygen molecules and her heart stuttered when he made a face at Peggy. “It couldn’t have been a very reputable website.”

“Why are you refusing to believe this?” Emma asked. “I swear to God. Teddy Roosevelt.” “That’s not an answer, love.”

She stuck her tongue out, but he made a face at her instead – a twist of eyebrows and lips and whatever he did with the color of his eyes when he teased her, made them more blue or something equally absurd – and Emma was disappointed she’d lost so quickly.

“I honestly can’t remember,” she admitted. “But it wasn’t, you know, Encyclopedia Britannica.” Killian laughed, loud enough to draw a few curious stares from several tourists, most of them sporting NHL jerseys, and one of them was a Rangers sweater because that was just the kind of life they lived at this point.

The guy gasped when he realized who they were.

And Emma had to bury her face against the bundle in her arms to stop herself from dissolving into several different emotions and sounds, most of which might have just been generic happiness.

“Holy shit,” the guy breathed, eyes wide and mouth hanging open and Killian stopped laughing when he swung Matt back onto the ground. “Oh shit,” the guy repeated. “That’s…um…sorry, sorry, Cap. That’s…uh…hi.”

Emma lost the battle against those emotions too.

That was disappointing.

She didn’t stumble when Matt slammed into her side though, which was a bit of a victory, and even managed to offer to hold the phone for the Rangers fan when he mumbled the request, staring at his shoes and the sidewalk like he was their kid and had just been reprimanded for swearing – more than once.

It took a few more minutes before he left, more quiet questions and hopes for another Cup run and there might have been an autograph request, but the rest of the team had finally realized Emma and Killian weren’t with them, and the guy nearly fell off the sidewalk when he found himself face-to-face with Will and Robin as well.

“Holy shit,” he said again, and Killian actually clicked his tongue.

Emma was going to laugh for the rest of the night. That would make it difficult for her to do everything she had to do.

She’d made some lists on the plane too – in between facts and absurdly overpriced wifi. She was totally going to expense it.

“Was Cap going to ground that guy?” Robin asked as soon as the fan disappeared, jogging back towards friends wearing different jerseys and expectant looks and Emma hoped he didn’t drop his phone.

He kept shaking.

She nodded, scrunching her nose and resting her arm on Matt’s shoulder, ignoring the way he squirmed against her. “Two minutes for roughing.” “Does that make sense?” Ruby asked. She was still wearing the hat. It might have been a different hat. She probably brought multiple hats to Nashville.

She probably brought Emma a hat to Nashville.

Emma was absolutely not going to wear a cowboy hat.

She drew the line somewhere.

“Of course it does,” Emma said. “He got that pre-checking look.” Will snickered, more than prepared when Matt moved towards him and jumped up, swinging him over his shoulders with practiced ease. “That’s definitely true. He does that thing with his mouth. It’s like his lips disappear.” “Oh, right, right,” Ruby nodded. “Were you going to check that guy for swearing, Cap? Because i don’t know if I’d be able to spin that. Bad press.” “Isn’t any press good press?” Roland asked, sporting a recently-bought Locksley jersey and several recently-acquired inches from a growth spurt that wouldn’t seem to end and Emma would have bet several thousand dollars and, possibly, one ride on a mechanical bull that there was a hockey puck in his pocket.

Roland almost always, inexplicably, had a hockey puck in his pocket.

It delighted Matt.

Ruby looked offended at the question, mouth falling open as her eyes darted from Robin to Regina and back to the teenager in front of her – a moniker that was recently acquired too – and, at some point, Emma had drifted back towards Killian’s side.

He tapped his fingers on her hip, hooking his chin over her shoulder and there must have been hair in his face, but he didn’t seem to mind and she really wished they’d been able to keep flirting.

Maybe she wanted to ground the jersey-wearing fan too.

“What have you been teaching this kid?” Ruby balked, waving her hand through the air and nearly taking out a guy who Emma was ninety-two percent positive worked in the Predators’ front office.

“God, Lucas, relax,” Robin muttered, corralling her arms. “There have been no press-based instructions or media relations. No one is encroaching on your territory.”

“Ok, that’s not what I said, at all.” “Eh,” Will objected.

“You want to voice that a little louder there, Scarlet?” “No, I do not. But you were doing those crazy things with your hands and if Cap’s lips disappear when he’s getting ready to check people then your hands develop minds of their own when you’re getting ready to take someone down via press release.”

Emma couldn’t mask her laugh, a trend she wasn’t sure she entirely appreciated, and whatever noise Killian made against her neck seemed to roll down her spine and settle in the very center of her, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Will grinned triumphantly.

“I am expressive,” Ruby said. “There is a difference. And I’d like the record to show, as it were, that I am the only one concerned about Rol’s potential for fines when he inevitably takes over the league from you ancient losers.” “Ancient losers,” Killian echoed, but the words got lost in Emma’s hair and her neck and hishands also appeared to have minds of their own, drifting dangerously close to the bottom of her shirt. With his number on the back.

Always.

Or indefinitely.

Or whatever.

Emma was totally going to ride a mechanical bull later.

And make sure they got back to that facts discussion.

“You heard me, Cap,” Ruby grinned. “Plus this is all your fault anyway because you were totally going to check that guy in traffic for possibly scaring mini-Jones with his brash language and now here we are, late for the plan and the fun.” “You didn’t even realize we were gone,” Emma pointed out. “Also, is there actually a plan?”

“Em,” Will groaned, but that might have been because of the fist dangerously close to his neck and he mumbled something that sounded like careful with the gloves, Dr. J under his breath. She didn’t realize Matt had moved at first. He was very quick. “It physically pains me that you do not remember the plan.” “I think that might be my kid’s fist.”

“Lucas and I worked hard on this. She bought a hat! I mean, look at how ridiculous that thing is.” “Hey,” Ruby snapped, but Killian was laughing again and possibly trailing kisses along the curve of Emma’s neck and she really couldn’t think when he did that.

“It is a little ridiculous, Lucas,” Robin reasoned, slinging an arm over Regina’s shoulders and she was smiling.

“She’s committed to the look,” she said. “It’s just…a very specific look for a very specific place.”

Ruby sighed, full of drama and feeling and, presumably, some kind of detailed plan that Emma hoped eventually included food because she was kind of starving and there were, already, at least thirty post-it notes stuck to the wall of their hotel room.

“The plan,” she said. “And Mattie if you don’t stop trying to strangle Uncle Will, we’re going to have a pretty serious discussion about ice time tomorrow.” Matt almost jumped back onto the ground, Roland letting out a low whistle when he rested a hand on the four-year-old’s jersey. “You’re not helping,” Emma muttered, but she was just met with a smile that was equal parts Robin and Killian and Roland Locksley was probably going to avoid any bad press in his career based on his charm alone.

Regina was very likely counting on that. It was probably factored into the metaphorical contract negotiations already.

“Sorry, Em,” he mumbled. Too charming. Way too charming. And she refused to accept responsibility when she sighed too, wrapping one of her arms around him and ignoring whatever teenage-noise he made when she tugged him against her chest and kissed the top of his hair.

“There is food involved,” Will promised, like that made up for everything. “And Lucas’ absurd hat makes a hell of a lot more sense when I tell you where we’re going.” “Oh God,” Killian muttered.

“Don’t do that, Cap. This is fun. We are having fun. We are experiencing things. Your kid is going to learn something.” “At a restaurant with a mechanical bull?”

“How do you know about that?” “Years of experience and how much you will not shut up about the goddamn mechanical bull.” “Wash that mouth out or I’ll ground you.” “You are not a father figure.” “Ok, first of all, that’s rude,” Will said, holding up one finger for emphasis. “And second of all, that is a blatant lie. Your kid wouldn’t be trying to strangle me otherwise. And–”

“–Oh my God, can we just go?” Emma grumbled, and the baby in her arms did not appreciate the influx of noise.

Will glared. “Third,” he said pointedly. “I know I can’t ride it, I am not an idiot. But Lucas can and so can Gina and so can Emma. And the Yelp reviews promised this place was good. Some kind of BBQ heaven where you can probably tell us things about Tennessee technique and how it differs from Kansas City.” “Is there a Tennessee BBQ technique?” Killian asked, flashing a smile Emma’s direction when Will sounded like an actual predator, growling low in the back of his throat.

“You’re antagonizing him on purpose,” Emma muttered. He nodded, tugging Peggy away from her side and making that face again, slightly stunned and a little overwhelmed and she was, at least, ninety-five percent positive he didn’t even realize he did it.

Every. Single. Time.

She fully expected her heart to explode at some point in the next three days.

Preferably after they got BBQ.

“Oh I’m absolutely doing it on purpose,” Killian said. “And It’s absolutely working. Always does. He’s way too easy.” Will inhaled sharply, twisting awkwardly so he could get both hands on Matt’s ears. “Don’t be an ass, Cap.” “Hey, c’mon.” “Ground me!” “Out of context, that’s really weird, isn’t it?” Ruby asked, laughter clinging to her voice and Roland’s whole body was shaking against Emma’s side. Regina had actually moved her hand over her mouth.

“And did Scarlet actually just say something about Yelp reviews?” Robin asked. “Why does Scarlet know what Yelp is?” “You know what?” Will snapped, rolling his whole head and Matt had moved to his side, clinging to him like some kind of koala in a Jones jersey. “You guys can find your own food for the rest of the weekend. I’m done with this. I hope Lucas gets mercilessly made fun of on the internet for her stupid hat.” Roland whistled again, Matt grinning because he definitely had no idea what was going on and Will was, at least, consistently entertaining. Ruby kicked him. “Stop insulting my hat,” she yelled. “It is on theme. And do not act like you also don’t have one.” “Aw, c’mon, Lucas!” “Wait, what?” Killian sputtered, eyes bright and mouth nearly on the sidewalk, and Robin wasn’t so much as standing next to Regina as she was completely supporting his weight now. “Do we all get hats?” Emma turned, staring at him skeptically. His eyes definitely got more blue. “Do you want a hat? And, Scarlet, for whatever it’s worth, the rest of the weekend is already all planned because that’s how All-Star weekend works and you have already agreed to several team events.” “Did I?” “Enthusiastically.” “I have no memory of that at all.” “That’s because you don’t listen,” Emma said. “Talk to your agent.” Will gaped, but Regina just moved her hand back to her side and shrugged. “You said yes. I’m not in charge of your life, Scarlet. How many events is it, Emma?” “And how many post-its have already been sacrificed to the cause?’ Ruby added knowingly.

“Enough,” Emma muttered, but Matt’s shout was louder and lots seemed to echo off the actual, flashing neon signs around them.

Ruby’s eyebrows moved – and reeked of judgment. “It’s fine,” Emma promised, but that was only kind of half true and she was only kind of running on fumes and a few hours of sleep and it was so much better than it was a few months before when Peggy seemed intent on setting several records for screaming and crying in consecutive nights.

This weekend was going to be good.

She was convinced.

This whole season was going to be good. Something about the talent and the years since the last Cup run and Emma was a little selfish because she kind of wanted their kids to see them win.

In the metaphorical and literal sense.

She’d read a lot of internet headlines in the last few weeks.

“Why don’t we head to the restaurant?” Regina asked, but there was a hint of something to her voice and Emma resolutely refused to meet her gaze. Or Killian’s, eyes boring into the side of her head at the same time his fingers traced absent-minded patterns on Peggy’s side.

“Yeah, ok,” Will said quickly. “We’re not that far anyway. Super good, super warranted Yelp reviews. You guys’ll see.”

“C’mon, mini-Jones,” Ruby said, holding her hand out expectantly for Matt. He took it without question.

Regina hummed, eyes still staring straight at Emma, and she licked her lips, letting Roland go so he could dissect Killian’s chances of winning the speed competition with Will and Robin. She didn’t move.

“So,” Killian said softly, as soon as the rest of them had moved halfway down the block. “Teddy Roosevelt, huh?”

Emma laughed, letting out the air she’d absolutely been holding and she didn’t want to be tense. She wanted to be as happy as she absolutely was, but there was still a lot to do and two kids at the All-Star game for the first time, and she should have slept on the plane.

“You don’t think it’s a real fact.“ “Eh, if you’re willing to believe it, then so am I.” “That’s absurdly romantic and possibly dangerous.” “I’m not sure where I see the danger is involved,” Killian countered. He rocked towards her, fingers brushing over the curve of her jaw and into her hair and that was probably where Peggy got it from. “Ok, tell me the fact again, even if you are taking my side of things.” Emma blinked. “How do you figure?”

“You’re always team-based facts, love. I’m here to provide information on the city and possibly the state of Tennessee–”

“–And Tennessee BBQ techniques.” “I’m really not sure if that’s a thing.”

“Better look it up,” Emma suggested, but the words got caught in her throat when Killian ducked his head.

She wasn’t really breathing when he kissed her, was more than willing to suffocate in the middle of the goddamn sidewalk if it meant he kept doing whatever he was doing with his tongue and his fingers dancing across her skin, just underneath her shirt, but Emma swore her lungs actually relaxed and she might have exhaled against him, like she wasn’t absurdly stressed out for the four fan events she had to run in the next forty-eight hours.

“That’s really not fair,” Emma mumbled, and she felt him smile against her, tugging her closer and trying to stay balanced with a baby in between them and there was a metaphor there that she wanted to ignore for several more minutes of uninterrupted makeouts.

She shivered.

Killian hummed, brushing his lips over hers again and Emma closed her eyes, trying to make sure her lungs continued to function and Matt shouted from the end of the sidewalk.

“You’re scaring your children for life,” Ruby yelled. Her hand was still wrapped up in Matt’s, the smile on her face obvious still.

“Absolutely worth it,” Killian muttered, and Emma bit her lip. It was absurd, really, all things considered, after actual years and two kids, but the flirting was still easy and constant and he was probably going to win the speed competition just so he could show off in front of her and their kids and Nashville might be her new favorite place in the world.

Emma kissed him that time. “Charmer.”

“That’s almost too easy too.”

“I’m sorry I took your fact job,”

“I promise that’s not something you ever have to apologize for, Swan. I am curious about Theodore Roosevelt though. Did he go hunt a bear after he drank this supposed coffee?” “Oh my God, that’s not true either. He wouldn’t kill the bear. That’s where we get teddy bears from, right?” “I have no idea.” “Some paragon of historic virtue you are,” Emma said, pointedly ignoring whatever laws of gravity his eyebrows were currently defying. “I’m going to tell Liam. And you’re never going to hear the end of it.”

“The fact, Swan.”

“Fine, fine, so Teddy Roosevelt is here in Nashville, which was founded on Christmas Eve in 1779, by the way, so you’re totally off and–” She rolled her eyes when he looked at her, something that was almost shy of patient with just a bit of expectation and, maybe how much he’d also still like to be making out in the middle of the sidewalk. Emma hoped there was no Page Six equivalent in Nashville. “Anyway,” she said. “Teddy is here and drinking coffee at the Maxwell House Hotel when he says it’s ‘good to the last drop,’ someone overhears him, thinks, ‘Wow, that’d make a really good catchphrase,’ and now, here we are.” Killian nodded seriously, smirk tugging at the ends of his mouth and Ruby sounded like she was actively plotting their pre-dinner murder a few feet away. “You know that’s exactly what they said?” he asked.

“Yes,” Emma nodded. “Without question.” “Of course.” “You got any Predators facts to back it up? If we’re just going to change things completely.” “The rules switch was your decision, love. I was just sleeping.”

“Sounds like a no.” Killian shook his head, another quick kiss and the smirk wasn’t so much a smirk as it was full-blown genuine happiness when Emma chased after him. “We’re going to be late,” he said. “And Lucas sounds very serious with those threats. But the Preds did play in Japan once.” “Wait, what?” “Swan, did you not know that?” “You didn’t know about Teddy Roosevelt.” “Because I’m still not convinced Teddy Roosevelt was an undercover slogan writer.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “When did they play in Japan?” “The start of the 2000-01 season. Against the Pens. Two games in Tokyo and both of them finished 3-1. They each one a game.” “Symmetrical.” He chuckled, an arm around her waist and fingers still dancing on her skin, but Emma fell into an easy rhythm next to him when they started walking. That was probably a metaphor too. “And,” Killian added. “Roosevelt was hardly the only present to hang out in Nashville. Andrew Jackson, Andrew Jackson, and James Polk too. They were all horrible people, well, maybe not James Polk because I have no idea what he ever did, but Jackson for sure.” Emma nodded, stopping just short of Ruby and Matt and she didn’t have to ask before taking Peggy away from Killian so their son could climb up his side.

“We ready to eat now?” Ruby asked.

“Yeah,” Killian answered, and Emma’s smile seemed to move across her face easily. She was going to have to buy more post-it notes. “Let’s get out of here before anyone else sees your hat and makes fun of it.”

No one did, in fact, make fun of Ruby’s hat – although things got rather close when they realized the bag she’d been carting around was filled with those hats Will had been talking about and Emma’s flew off when she barely lasted five seconds on the goddamn mechanical bull.

Regina made it twenty-six seconds.

It was, apparently, some kind of record.

And the BBQ was good, no matter what type of sauce it actually was, because there absolutely, positively was no such thing as a Tennessee way, it was Nashville technique and Memphis technique and tomato-sauce based – or so both David and Liam claimed when they were both, separately, FaceTime’d for argumentative backup.

“You going to actually sleep tonight, love?” Killian asked, several hours and two sleeping kids later. He grinned when he saw her, tucked under a small mountain of blankets and a different t-shirt with his number on the back, and Emma tried to nod convincingly.

It didn’t work.

Open book or those years of experience and–”Did Mattie take off his jersey?” “Absolutely not,” Killian said, taking a step another step towards the bed and if it weren’t for all of those things that made it absolutely possible for him to read her, she probably wouldn’t have even noticed.

As it were, they operated on some kind of two-way street of relationship feelings and blatantly obvious flirting and knowing each other and Emma didn’t miss the way his step shook slightly, eyes just a bit unfocused and gaze a bit hazy and he shook his head once, like he was trying to get rid of several different types of cobwebs.

“Killian,” Emma said slowly, climbing across the bed. He flinched when her hand landed on his chest. “Hey, you ok?” He didn’t answer immediately, just blinked once, twice, three times, and he was breathing through his mouth, soft, but challenged and Emma tried not to hold onto his shirt too tightly.

That didn’t work either.

“Fine,” Killian said, voice clipped and Emma’s pulse stuttered when the word seemed to shake its way out of him.

“Maybe Ruby should be talking to you about good press and bad press. That wasn’t a very convincing quote, Cap.” “I don’t need to be convincing when it’s the truth, Swan.” “You want to try again, then?” “I’m fine, Emma,” he said, wrapping a hand around her wrist. He closed his eyes though, shoulders shifting slightly when he inhaled and Emma’s mind was racing, trying to figure out what the hell was going on and how many hours of sleep they could possibly get if she spent the next forty-five minutes, at least, interrogating him.

Killian seemed to realize his mistake as soon as her name was out of his mouth, eyes snapping open so quickly she was briefly concerned for the state of his eyelids, and his grip tightened a fraction of an inch, tongue darting out between his lips.

“Fine,” he repeated, but Emma got the strong, and vaguely terrifying, feeling that he was trying to convince himself as much as her.

“Yuh huh.”

“I promise.” “What happened?” “Nothing.” “Killian!” “Nothing, Swan,” he muttered, and that was an even worse quote than the first few combined, quiet and not quite articulate and her heart appeared to be trying to work its way out of her chest. “You need to get some sleep, love.” She groaned, falling back on her heels and rolling her whole head in response and he’d really gotten ridiculously good at making that face – God help their kids when they did actually start to get grounded. They wouldn’t know what hit ‘em.

“I can’t believe you’re trying to deflect on me.” “I’m not.” “If I yell again I’m going to wake up Mattie and then we’re really never going to get any sleep because he’s going to come in here and we’ll both end up rather bruised and battered in this surprisingly small king size bed.” “Can a king size bed be small?”

“I’m sure it can when it’s also filled with a four-year-old and his magical, flailing limbs.” “The magic part’s pretty impressive,” Killian said, lips quirking up and Emma huffed when his deflection almost worked. “No such luck, huh?” She shook her head. “A valiant effort on your part, though.” “Ah, at least there’s that.”

He didn’t shake or wobble or any other verbs that weren’t great for a professional hockey player making his sixth All-Star appearance, but Emma wasn’t entirely prepared for him to lean forward, nudging her onto her back until he was hovering over her. She smiled when she dragged her heel over the back of his calf, earning a quiet groan for her efforts and a few curse words he would have chastised their friends for.

“That mouth, Cap,” she whispered, pushing her fingers into his hair and maybe they were both to blame for Peggy’s habits.

That sounded better anyway.

“I can’t think when you do that.” “That’s absolutely the point.”

Killian hummed, hands moving and hips moving and Emma gasped when his lips found that one, particular spot behind her ear. He twisted, staring at the portable crib that had taken them far too long to construct that afternoon and the sleeping kid in it, seemingly convinced they hadn’t woken her up or scarred her for life.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that, love,” he mumbled, and she barely heard him over the rushing in her ears and the feel of him everywhere and the king size bed was ridiculously comfortable.

“Then you need to not be such a tease,” Emma countered.

“That’s half the fun.” “Not when you’re working on borrowed time.” “Nah, it’ll be alright. He was exhausted. And more than happy to fall asleep after a detailed discussion of how the accuracy challenge works.” Emma laughed before she could consider what kind of absurd pillow-talk this was, but her pulse was still doing something stupid and she’d put half a dozen different internal organs through several emotional wringers in the last few hours and she was pretty positive her right thigh was bruised from her fall off the bull.

She gasped when Killian’s fingers brushed over the spot, and she’d never seen him move that quickly – head jerking up and eyes filled with concern and she didn’t even get her promise offine out, which, really, didn’t seem very fair.

He moved slowly, like he was suddenly terrified she’d evolved into glass, clicking his tongue when he saw the mark. “Why didn’t you say you got hurt?”

Emma rolled her eyes, well aware Killian couldn’t see her when he was staring intently at her thigh. “I don’t think that counts as hurt,” she argued. “Not really. I was just incredibly bad at staying balanced.” “That’s not true.” “Five seconds.” “Five and a half.” “Were you counting?”

He widened his eyes, smirk turning slightly lecherous and Emma absolutely swooned – possibly melting into the pillows and the blankets. “Watching,” Killian corrected. “Admittedly a little intently.”

“Only a little?” Emma shrugged when he glanced at her, and they were honestly so ridiculously good at flirting with each other, it was a miracle they managed to get anything else done. “A lot,” Killian muttered, dropping his head back to her leg and Emma wasn’t sure what noise, exactly, she made when his lips traced over her skin, but she felt his lips move and she had to bite the side of her tongue. He moved slowly, and maybe even a little reverently, brushing around the bruise that appeared to be a bit more purple than Emma was used to. It was like being on fire and doused in ice water, all at the same time, every kiss sparking under her skin and in the center of her soul, which, really, was just absurd, but she loved him an absolutely absurd amount and loved their life more and she was so goddamn exhausted she was probably delirious.

So, honestly, Emma couldn’t be held accountable for her own thoughts.

And, really, they should have expected it because whatever Killian was doing was probably illegal in several different countries and, possibly, in Tennessee and Emma had to let go of her tongue at some point and they both laughed when they heard the footsteps.

“Da….” Matt said, dragging out the word and leaving off the last letter, a tried and true technique when he didn’t want to sleep and, especially, didn’t want to sleep in his own bed.

Emma grinned at Killian. “Absolutely, totally exhausted and asleep, huh?” He shrugged, kissing her hip and rolling back to his side, and she couldn’t quite keep her anger in her, the sight of an enormous Jones jersey on their son doing something particular to all of her heartstrings.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Emma asked.

Matt wavered, rocking back and forth and looking anywhere except his parents. “It’s…dark and…”

“What? Noisy?”

Killian choked, squeezing his eyes closed, and Emma elbowed him sharply in the side. He wrapped an arm around her waist in retaliation, pulling her flush against his chest and they’d, finally, managed to wake up Peggy, cries echoing in the room and the darkness and Matt was still frozen in the doorway.

“Now, you’ve done it,” Emma growled, but Killian just burrowed against her neck and and her hair and they were absolutely destroying their kid’s collective psyche. “Is that what it was, Mattie? Too loud?” He shook his head slowly. “No,” he mumbled. “Not noise.”

Killian tensed. And Emma knew what it was.

It was too quiet.

Nashville was, after all, not New York and there weren’t as many sirens or cars outside the window or even voices, people walking by their usually calm block no matter what hour it was.

It wasn’t home.

Maybe Nashville wasn’t Emma’s favorite place in the entire world.

The bed creaked when Killian moved, propping his head up on his hand and keeping his arm around Emma. “C’mere, little man,” he said, waving Matt into the room before climbing back off the blankets to try and quiet Peggy. Matt didn’t need to be told again, flying across the few feet of hotel-provided space and Emma barely moved her arm out of the way in time. “Don’t flail around too much, ok?” Killian asked. “Mom’s already bruised enough as it is.”

Emma scowled at him, but that anger didn’t last long either – it never did when he started making faces at Peggy. “You want me to do that?” she asked, but he shook his head before she’d finished the question.

“Get some sleep, Swan. We’re good.” “Yeah, we are.”

It was the best she’d slept in weeks – eyes fluttering open for a few moments when Killian climbed back into bed, pressing a kiss to her temple and he couldn’t really get his arm back around her waist when Matt had claimed, at least, nine-tenths of the bed, but he made an effort.

And the first of the four fan events went off without a hitch, a very old phrase that Ruby made fun of Emma for as soon as the words were out of her mouth, but the crowd was happy and the chain restaurant wasn’t a jerk about the size of said crowd and all three New York Rangers All-Stars smiled in every single picture they took.

There were an absurd amount of pictures.

And Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers and captain of the Metro All-Stars again and father of her painfully adorable children, kissed Emma Swan, New York Rangers director of community relations, fan experiences and events while in uniform in the hallway outside the home locker room of the Bridgestone Arena.

“Skate fast,” Emma mumbled, tugging on the front of his jersey and ignoring Will’s commentary while he did his best not to dislocate one of his shoulders. Matt was, naturally, on his shoulders.

Killian grinned. “Always.”

Ruby, to her credit, didn’t make fun of the blatant and slightly public display of affection once they settled into the press box, refusing to give up Peggy even for a moment, but her eyes kept darting towards Regina and it only took one event for that to get incredibly annoying.

“Alright,” Emma said. “Let’s have it.” Ruby tilted her head. “Have what?”

“You going to reprimand me for my bad press or destroying my kid’s minds or whatever? Because I don’t think Peg will remember and Mattie absolutely does not care when there’s ice to worry about and–” “–Wait, what?” Emma blinked, brows furrowed and confusion settling between her shoulder blades. “What do you mean, what?” “What the hell are you talking about?” “This,” Emma said, waving an impatient hand through the air. Ruby’s mouth twitched. “Did you text Reese’s about it too? Should I expect several detailed messages later?” “Only if they’re about how much David wanted to come to Nashville, but couldn’t get time off.” “He tried to get time off?”

“I mean, not really,” Ruby shrugged. “Plus they’ve got Leo to, you know, obsess over anyway, so, there’s that.” “They are super obsessed with that kid,” Emma agreed. “Reese’s takes more pictures of him than I do.” “Which might be saying something,” Regina muttered. She smiled when Emma glared at her.

“Ok, seriously. If this isn’t about the makeouts, then what is it?” “You think we were having secret, silent conversations about you making out with your husband?” Ruby asked skeptically. “For real? Em, you do that all the time.” “Constantly,” Regina added.

“Like. Literally every home game. I’m pretty positive Scarlet and Locksley somehow bet on the total number of times they’d be almost disgusted by how stupid into each other you and Cap are.” “You know you haven’t gotten anymore eloquent over the years,” Emma said.

Ruby shrugged again. “That’s not a bad thing. My supposed lack of eloquence or how much time you do actually spend making out with Cap. But you guys make cute kids, so I can’t fault you that much.” “That sound a bit like you’re picking favorites, Rubes.” “If you tell Mary Margaret then I will do something ridiculous and drastic. And it’s not so much favorites as it is the fact that mini-Jones clearly likes me the most. You can tell Scarlet that.” “Is it weird that you guys argue about this?”

“I really don’t think so.”

Emma hummed noncommittally, eyes flitting towards the ice and the small crowd against the boards she knew her kid was in the center of. Roland had two sticks in his hand, resting the smaller one on his shoulder as he skated backward, and Matt had one hand in Killian’s glove and the other in Robin’s while Will filmed the whole thing.

Heart explosion, right on cue.

Matt did his best to keep his balance, wobbling despite the hands and the support and the rest of the All-Stars cleared a path in front of him – some unspoken command because Killian Jones was, absolutely, the face of the league even years removed from an improbable gold medal run.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen,” Ruby mumbled, but she had to shift Peggy to try and wipe her cheek on her shoulder, and Emma didn’t try to argue.

It was dumb and perfect and Scarlet was mic’ed up, someone in the box turning up the TV broadcast when the camera panned to the moment.

“Right, left, Dr. J,” he said. “You gotta pick up some speed before you can run.”

Matt nodded seriously, like he was getting ready for a penalty shot in a series-clincher, and Killian’s eyes darted towards Robin before they both pushed lightly. There was no more stumbling. There wasn’t even a hint of fear. Matt Jones, four years old and certain his dad was the greatest player to ever play any sport, moved on the ice like he was born there, which was kind of true.

Roland cheered, both arms thrown into the air and caught on camera and Ruby mumbleddumb no less than twenty-two times while discreetly crying and ignoring her phone when Mary Margaret, presumably, texted about it all.

“You ever going to tell me what you were Morse-coding about then?” Emma asked, reluctantly pulling her eyes away from the ice to stare at Ruby.

She sighed. “Your phone hasn’t rung yet?” “Should it?” “Em.” “I legitimately don’t understand the question.” “I really thought she would have called by now.” “She said she was going to,” Regina said, like any of this made sense and Emma wasn’t waving both her arms in the air in a pitiful impression of Ruby and an air traffic controller. “Maybe she got tied up with All-Star stuff.” “Who?” Emma asked. No one listened to her.

“I mean, that’s kind of a stupid excuse, don’t you think?” Ruby grumbled, and Regina made a noise that might have been an agreement. “She was really interested.” “She said that? Those exact words?” “Verbatim.” “Huh.” “Who the hell are you talking about?” Emma demanded, but she may have been shouting from the ice for all the good it did her and, really, she should have been paying more attention to the ice.

And Will was still mic’ed up.

“Cap,” he yelled. “Cap! Holy fu–”

The NBC broadcast barely cut him, staving off a very angry response from the FCC and several hundred families, but Emma didn’t care about any of that, eyes widening and breath catching and she was still moving her hands through the air when her gaze snapped towards the closest TV.

She thought it was Matt at first – was positive something must have happened, some wayward skate or an All-Star who didn’t get that memo about getting out of the way, and he’d never really learned to stop, and the boards weren’t very forgiving to a four-year-old – and Emma wasn’t sure how much more damage she could inflict on her lungs.

It wasn’t Matt.

And Emma was never entirely sure how she didn’t fall over.

It probably had something to do with Regina’s arm around her shoulders and Ruby’s quiet assurances that it was fine, it’s all going to be fine, Em, but she never really knew.

The whole thing seemed to happen impossibly fast.

One second Killian was standing there, skating behind Matt and the next he was on the bench and Emma could barely see him, a crowd around them and a face that she dimly remembered as the Hurricanes athletic trainer.

Emma didn’t blink. She knew she needed to blink, knew her eyes were going dry and her mouth was hanging open, but nothing seemed to work or respond and Ruby was still mumbling words in her ear.

Killian didn’t get off the bench.

Will had moved at some point, Matt clinging to him with his face buried in his neck and Roland a few feet away, his hand on the back of a jersey with Jones plastered across it. Emma’s phone rang. She didn’t move.

“Em,” Ruby said slowly, but she she just jerked her head in response, not quite a shake or a nod or anything except the absolute terror her whole body was flushed with.

“What happened?”

“I don’t–” “–Did you see what happened? Why isn’t he getting up? Is he still on the bench?”

Ruby had to use Regina as leverage, pushing up on her shoulder to stand on the balls of her feet, and she nodded without looking back at Emma. “Yeah,” she said, tone clipped and quiet and Emma couldn’t think about that without wanting to cry.

She still wasn’t sure she’d blinked yet.

“But what happened?” Emma pressed. “They were…everything was fine and ridiculously cute and…”

She cut herself off, clamping her jaw closed so tightly she was sure she’d done permanent damage to her teeth. Ruby turned around. “What?” she asked. “What’s the matter?”

Emma swallowed, closing her eyes and trying to will away images of the night before and slightly shaky steps and a hazy look that hadn’t seemed quite so troubling when it was forgotten in makeouts and bruises and they’d promised it was fine, just a few days before the Christmas break and a hit that kept Killian off the ice in the third period.

Nothing was wrong.

Nothing had happened.

Emma blinked – and felt the tears on her cheek.

“Hey, uh, guys.”

They all spun at the sound of Robin’s voice, standing in the doorway of the Predators’ press box in his socks and his jersey and he’d never been that out of breath, even after overtimes and playoff wins, and he couldn’t seem to look Emma in the eye.

“How did you get up here?” Ruby asked. “And where are you skates?” “Uh, in a stairwell.” “You took your skates off?”

“Yeah.” “What happened?” Regina asked sharply, voicing the question Emma could feel stuck in the back of her throat. Ruby was still holding Peggy. She wished she was holding Peggy. Her feet wouldn’t listen to her brain.

“Emma,” Robin continued, rushing over her name like he couldn’t waste time lingering on the letters. “You’ve got to come downstairs. Now.”

She blinked again. Which, honestly, just seemed unfair.

“Bad?” she asked, and it was the worst question she could have come up with, but she’d never had any media training and it was the only word her mind could come up with.

Robin nodded. “He passed out on the ice. I don’t…it was bad, Em. They were trying to figure out what happened and get him back up and I just…you’ve got to come back down with me.” “Back up?”

“Lost consciousness for a couple seconds.” Emma exhaled, body sagging forward and they’d drawn an audience, several dozen eyes widening when Robin walked into the box. He laced his fingers through Emma’s, a small smile on his face when she didn’t do anything except keep crying. “C’mon,” he said. “Scarlet’ll watch Mattie. Lucas, you’re…” “Yeah, yeah,” Ruby promised. “Go, Em, we’ll be down soon.” Emma didn’t say anything, didn’t trust herself to say words that weren’t tinged with something that felt a bit like despair, and Robin didn’t let go of her hand while they walked down fifteen flights of stairs.

He left his skates in the stairwell.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #blue line change #athletes are idiots #like #they're dumb #so let's keep that in mind going forward

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Commonly Confused Words in the English Language

In this day and age of autocorrect and spell checks, there is a tendency for even the sharpest amongst us to assume our work is flawless. What we don’t realize is that auto correct and spell checks only check the spelling and there is no intelligent bot embedded in any software or devices (so far) to identify the logical accuracy of sentences we construct. In the English language, there are a handful of words that might sound the same but whose meanings are polar opposites. This can be a costly mistake to have in any official communication. To make sure you are more aware of these words, here is our collection of the most commonly confused English words.

Accept/Except:

Accept (verb) - to agree to receive or take something.

For example: 'Do you accept credit cards?'

Except (preposition, conjunction) - excluding or not including

For example: 'The dog never listened to anyone except his owner.'

Advice/Advise:

Advice (noun) - to give tips or recommendations in a particular situation

For example: 'The President had plenty of advice during the election campaign.'

Advise (verb) - to tell someone what you think they should do in a particular situation

For example: 'The tour guide advised the tourists to explore the local markets to soak in the local culture.'

Affect/Effect:

Affect (verb) - to influence or make a difference to

For example: 'The injury will affect his performance in the marathon.'

Effect (noun) - a result or an influence

For example: 'The mother’s voice had a calming effect on the newborn.'

Aisle/Isle:

Aisle - a long narrow passage between rows of seats

For example: 'Some passengers prefer the seats closest to the aisle.'

Isle - an island

For example: 'The Caribbean Isles have the most magnificent beaches.'

All together/Altogether:

All together - all in one place, in a group, all at once

For example: 'The last time we were all together was 2 years back'

Altogether - entirely, all told, or on the whole

For example: 'Altogether, I have 15 pairs of shoes.'

Along/A long:

Along - a preposition that means beside or parallel to

For example: 'We walked along the riverbank.'

A long - a phrase used to define the length of an object or a time

For example: 'It is a long time until Friday.'

Aloud/Allowed:

Aloud - an adjective that refers to something said that can be heard by anyone who is near enough

For example: 'I have a bad habit of speaking my thoughts aloud.'

Allowed - an adjective that means having permission to do something

For example: 'You are allowed to go to the dance.'

Assent/Ascent:

Assent - a noun that means agreement

For example: 'We need to reach assent on how to do this project.'

Ascent - a noun that refers to going up or advancing from an original position

For example: 'I watched the balloon's ascent into the sky.'

Bare/Bear:

Bare - an adjective that means without cover or clothing

For example: 'He wore bright green swimming trunks, and his chest was bare.'

Bear - a verb that means to hold up, support, or tolerate, and it is also a noun that refers to an animal

For example: 'The grizzly bear cannot bear to be without her cubs.'

Berth/Birth:

Berth - a noun that means a space adequate for a ship to move, dock, or anchor

For example: 'Move toward the berth so we can dock and get the passengers off the ship.'

Birth - a noun that means the process by which mammals enter the world

For example: 'The horse gave birth to a small bay filly.'

Born/Borne:

Born - an adjective that refers to the process by which a living creature enters the world

For example: 'When were you born?'

Borne - an adjective that refers to something that is carried by something else

For example: 'I contracted mosquito-borne malaria while in Uganda.'

Brake/Break:

Brake - a noun that means a device that is used to stop a vehicle in motion

For example: 'Push the brake if you want to stop.'

Break - a noun that means a pause

For example: 'Go for your break so you can have a coffee.'

Cereal/Serial:

Cereal - a noun that refers to a breakfast food

For example: 'My favorite cereal is Frosted Wheat.'

Serial - a noun that means a series of something, such as a show or a book

For example: 'Charles Dickens is the author of the serial novel The Pickwick Papers.'

Chord/Cord:

Chord - a noun that means a sound made by an instrument when multiple pitches are played together

For example: 'I need to strum an E chord on my guitar.'

Cord - a noun that means multiple threads of thin material woven together

For example: 'The cord connecting the phone to the wall is covered in a protective plastic layer.'

Complement/Compliment:

Complement - a noun or verb, referring to something that matches or enhances

For example: 'The pillow he bought was a complement to the couch'

Compliment - a noun or verb and refers to an expression of praise

For example: 'She complimented her friend on her excellent taste.'

Council/Counsel:

Council - a noun that means an assembly of persons

For example: 'The city council makes decisions about what's best for the town.'

Counsel - a verb or a noun meaning to give advice

For example: 'He asked her to counsel him.'

Cue/Queue:

Cue - a noun that means a signal that should initiate some sort of reaction

For example: 'Wait for the cue to say your lines.'

Queue - a noun that is used to describe a line of cars or people

For example: 'There was a long queue of cars waiting for the train to pass.'

Curb/Kerb:

Curb - a verb that means to keep something in check; a control or limit

For example: 'You really need to curb your spending.'

Kerb - a noun referring to the stone edge of a pavement

For example: 'The cyclist slipped-off the edge of the kerb on to the street.'

Currant/Current:

Currant - a noun that refers to a dried fruit, specifically a dried grape

For example: 'You can buy currants in bulk at the store.'

Current - an adjective that means up to date or most recent

For example: 'What is your current situation at home?'

Defuse/Diffuse:

Defuse - a verb that means to remove pressure from a tense situation

For example: 'Maybe your mother can defuse the situation with your sister.'

Diffuse - a verb that means to disperse within a space

For example: 'The drink powder will diffuse in the water.'

Desert/Dessert:

Desert - a noun that means a dry, arid region

For example: 'The Sahara is the largest desert in the world.'

Dessert - the sweet food eaten at the end of a meal

For example: 'Chocolate ice cream is undoubtedly my favorite dessert food.'

Discreet/Discrete:

Discreet - an adjective meaning judicious or showing prudence

For example: 'He made sure to be discreet when talking to the press.'

Discrete - an adjective meaning separate or distinct

For example: 'Her business had five discrete functions.'

Dual/Duel:

Dual - an adjective that means made up of two parts

For example: 'Bleach and chlorine make up the dual power in this laundry cleaning product.'

Duel - a noun that means a battle with someone, either in a fight or a contest

For example: 'Sir Michael, my good man, I challenge you to a duel'

Elicit/Illicit:

Elicit - a verb meaning to draw out

For example: 'The officer tried to elicit the truth from the suspect.'

Illicit - an adjective meaning illegal

For example: 'He seemed to have no information about the illicit drug ring.'

Emigrate/Immigrate:

Emigrate - a verb that means to leave one country to live in another

For example: 'The family emigrated from the UK.'

Immigrate - a verb that means to move to another country

For example: 'The family immigrated to Canada 20 years ago.'

Envelop/Envelope:

Envelop - a verb meaning to wrap up or to cover entirely

For example: 'She was grateful that her cloak was big enough to envelop her.'

Envelope - a noun that means a flat paper container

For example: 'She mailed her letter in a small white envelope.'

Foreword/Forward:

Foreword - a noun that means the section at the beginning of a book that introduces the content

For example: 'I want to write a foreword to my memoir, but it can't be too revealing.'

Forward - a directional adverb that means coming up or up ahead

For example: 'Move your chair forward so you're closer to the stage.'

Hoard/Horde:

Hoard - a noun that means a supply or a verb that means to accumulate

For example: 'After collecting acorns all summer, the squirrel had gathered quite a hoard.'

Horde - a noun that means a large group

For example: 'A horde of people gathered around the celebrity, asking for photos and autographs.'

Imply/Infer:

Imply - a verb that means to indicate or suggest without being specific

For example: 'I didn't mean to imply that I don't care about you.'

Infer - a verb that means to guess or speculate

For example: 'From his hunched posture and pronounced frown, she inferred that he was feeling very disappointed.'

Loose/Lose:

Loose - an adjective used to describe something that doesn't fit tightly

For example: 'I bought this skirt when I was overweight, and now it is too loose.'

Lose - a verb that means to misplace something

For example: 'I always lose my keys when I put them in this giant purse.'

Pedal/Peddle:

Pedal - a noun meaning a lever that is worked by the foot

For example: 'She pedaled her bike faster to get away from him, but her foot slipped off the pedal'

Peddle - a verb meaning to sell something door to door

For example: 'To earn money, the man decided to peddle his wares on the street.'

Pole/Poll:

Pole - a noun that refers to a long, cylinder-shaped object

For example: 'The pole sticking out of the ground was made of metal.'

Poll - a survey or an election

For example: 'I'm taking a poll: do you prefer white or whole wheat bread?'

Pour/Pore:

Pour - a verb that describes a way to make a non-solid material flow from one container to another

For example: 'Please pour me some more tea.'

Pore - a noun that means a small hole or opening

For example: 'You have pores in your skin that are too small to see.'

Practice/Practise:

Practice - a noun that refers to the use of something, such as an idea, theory, or process

For example: 'Brushing twice a day is a healthy practice.'

Practise - a verb meaning to repeat in the hopes of improvement over time

For example: 'I practice the piano every day.'

Principal/Principle:

Principal - a noun meaning chief or head. It can also be an adjective meaning highest in rank

For example: 'The principal of the middle school was strict but kind.'

Principle - a noun meaning a rule, law, or characteristic

For example: 'Students must follow the basic principles of good behavior.'

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