caught in the multiverse.

rollercoaster, bleachers / hate that you know me, bleachers / i wanna get better, bleachers / everybody lost somebody, bleachers mutuals may interact. dni if you're not a mutual

Mickey stepped out onto the Gallagher front porch, his current search for his husband had been so far been fruitless but the ladder leaned up against the porch roof was starting to shed some light on his whereabouts.

Making his way down the front steps and looking up, Mickey was greeted by the shock of red hair belonging to the one and only Ian Gallagher.

“Ian the fuck are you doing up there?”

Ian looked down, seemingly unsurprised by Mickey’s presence, which really in itself wasn’t shocking, the two of them had hardly spent any time apart since they got married.

“Liam and Franny’s frisbee got stuck up here, said I’d get it back for them.”

Mickey rolled his eyes at his do-gooder husband. “Ain’t you meant to have someone holding those things?”

“Worried about my safety Mick?” Ian grinned down at him.

Mickey was about to reply that no, he absolutely was not, and fuck you for thinking so, when a gunshot rang out from around the corner. Ian with his soft centre that no years of hardship seemed to ever quite have stamped out of him, jumped at the noise, the motion causing him to lose his footing and go falling to the ground, ladder right after him.

“Fuck, Ian.” Mickey yelled, rushing to the younger mans side, pushing the ladder off of him where it had landed on his face, a cut to start swelling up in its wake.

“Hey, hey you okay?”

No response.

“Fuck.”

Mickey, quickly checked for breathing, letting out a sign of relief when he felt his husbands steady breath still coming through. Pulling Ian’s head onto his lap he then got out his phone to call for an ambulance.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance, my husband hit his head and he’s not waking up.”

“Okay sir, can you tell me your location?”

“Err shit um.” He quickly looked up at the house number. “2119 South Wallace.”

“Okay an ambulance is coming. I need you to answer a few questions for me. Is your husband still breathing?”

“Yeah, he’s breathing fine.”

“Good, that’s a really good sign. And his pulse?”

“Fuck, I don’t know, he’s the one who knows all the medical shit.”

“Take his wrist and place your thumb on the outside corner.” The voice guided him through.

Mickey placed the phone on the grass to follow the woman’s instructions. Clumsily attempting to pinpoint Ian’s pulse, a nurse of sheer panic flew through him when he couldn’t immediately find it, his breath coming out in quick, jagged pants when he did locate Ian’s, thankfully, steady pulse.

“Yeah, his pulse is good.” Mickey breathed down the phone.

“Okay, these are all good signs. The ambulance should be with you soon but your husband should be okay in the mean time.”

“Should be?” But the phone line was already dead.

“Shit, c’mon Gallagher, get up you stubborn son of a bitch.”

Maybe he heard him or maybe it was coincidence but at that moment Ian let out a groan.

“Ian?”

“Mickey?” Ian blinked, confused, back up at him. Unsteadily pulling himself up from the shorter mans lap.

“Woah, easy, you took a fucking nose dive off the roof.”

Ian stared back at him, drawing in on himself slightly.

“What?” The younger man asked.

“You don’t remember?”

Ian shook his head, immediately wincing and bringing a hand up to his head.

“What are you still doing here?” Ian asked after a second.

The question took Mickey aback.

“Where the fuck else would I be?”

Ian shrugged, crawling back to lean against the chainlink fence.

“Most people don’t stick around after a breakup.”

It was Mickeys turn to stare, not understanding a word that was coming out of his husbands mouth.

“What the fuck are you talking about? That fall knock a few screws loose? We just got married, that was the end of our breakups.” Mickey said, wiggling his ring finger in front of Ian to prove his point.

Ian stared at the ring wrapped around Mickeys finger before lifting up his own left hand to examine his finger ring. He touched the ring with such a mixture of emotions, Mickey couldn’t even pinpoint them all. Confusion, disbelief, shock, fear, and awe, being among them.

Ian’s eyes flickered back up to Mickey’s, mouth open no doubt to ask another strange and confusing question when the sirens sound came blearing down the street.

“We got a call that a man had suffered a head wound at this address?” The first paramedic out of the ambulance asked.

Mickey pointed them over towards Ian.

“My husband. He just woke up and he’s been acting fucking weird since.”

The paramedics came over to where Ian was hunched by the fence.

“Hello, sir. We heard you had an accident.”

Ian shrugged, not paying much attention to the people in front of him, his focus still on the ring on his finger.

“Sir, could you tell us your name?”

“Ian Gallagher.” He replied softly, having yet to look up at the paramedics.

“Hi, Ian. Would you mind if I looked at your head?” The male paramedic asked.

Again Ian shrugged, moving slightly away from the fence to allow better access.

While the male paramedic examined Ian, the female one crouched within his eyesight.

“Hey Ian, could you answer just a couple of questions for me?”

“Okay.”

“Great.” The woman replied, way too brightly for someone who was meant to be making sure Ian was okay, at least in Mickey’s opinion. “What do you remember prior to the impact?”

Ian’s eyes flickered up to meet Mickey’s before looking back at the paramedic.

“Umm, I’d just gotten back from a trip with my mom.”

Mickey stilled, Ian’s answers earlier had been strange but not thinking he’d been hanging out with his dead mother strange.

“Do you remember what lead to you hitting your head?” The paramedic asked, this time using a light to shine into Ian’s eyes while she waited for his answer.

“No.” Ian replied, wincing slightly as the other paramedic continued his check of Ian’s skull.

“Okay that’s perfectly normal. Can you tell me what year it is?”

“2014.” Ian’s answer came with no hesitation but the simple date brought Mickey’s world grounding to a halt.

2014, that was the year Ian had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The year Mickey had been sentenced to fifteen years behind bars. And the year Ian had torn his heart to shreds in this very front yard.

No wonder Ian had been confused by his presence, why he thought they were broken up, why he didn’t know they were married.

The paramedic however seemed to just take this answer in her stride. “Do you know where we are?”

“This is my house.”

“Do you know who the president is?”

“Obama?” Ian asked, getting confused by the random questions.

“okay, and finally, can you tell me the days of the week backwards?”

“Umm, Sunday, Saturday, Friday— fuck it’s um.” Ian’s eyes flickered back to Mickey in a panic.

“Hey, it’s okay, there’s no wrong answers here, we just need to access how best to help you.” This came from the male paramedic, who had apparently finished his head assessment.

“It’s um— Thursdays, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday.”

“That’s great Ian.”

“So I’m okay?”

“Ian, have you heard of the condition amnesia?”

“Yeah?” Ian replied, a slight questioning lilt to his voice, not yet understanding what Mickey was just starting to piece together.

“During my questions you said you believe it’s 2014 and that Obama is President. Do you still believe that?”

“Yes?” Ian replied, nerves now clouding his voice.

“Ian, the year is 2020.” The paramedic informed him gently.

Ian looked between the two health workers before looking up to Mickey, as if to ask for confirmation.

Mickey nodded and Ian let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes while leaning back against the fence while he took it all in.

“We’d like for you to come down to the hospital so we can run some routine tests to make sure you’re okay. Amnesia is common after head wounds and usually goes away on its own but it’s important we check nothing else is going on.”

Ian nodded, getting up slowly from his position to follow them to the ambulance.

Mickey made to go after him.

“You don’t have to come, you don’t owe me anything.” Ian said when he heard the footsteps following him.

Mickey was glad Ian was facing away from him so he couldn’t see how much those words broke his heart.

“Fuck off Gallagher, I know I don’t owe you shit, still gonna make sure you’re okay.”

“I don’t need a nurse.” Ian complained, now turning to face the older man.

“Think the doc said the opposite.”

Ian huffed at his answer but made no more moves to stop Mickey from following him into the ambulance.

~page break-

The L ride back to the house had been spent in silence, the walk from the L didn’t seem to be faring any better. The doctors at the hospital had cleared Ian of any major damage, just a slight concussion and told them to come back in a week if his memory still hadn’t improved. Stupid doctors go to all their fancy medical schools but still couldn’t help Ian when he was hurt.

“You don’t have to come back to the house you know.” It was the first thing Ian had said since they left the hospital.

“Considering I live there I kinda fucking do.”

“Right.” Ian started fiddling with his wedding ring, going back to looking between Mickey and the ring like he still couldn’t quite believe it.

They fell back into silence for a couple more minutes.

“Why did you want to marry me?” The voice came out small, the words so vividly reminiscent of Ian’s fears before their wedding. Words and worries that they’d moved past, but only Mickey remembered that now.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mickey laughed, there was no joy in it but once he started he found it incredibly hard to stop.

Ian stood there in alarm, watching Mickey have his, breakdown? Was this a breakdown? It felt like a breakdown. All there years of life constantly pulling them apart was meant to be over and now Ian couldn’t even remember it. He should’ve known not to get too settled.

“Have you gone fucking crazy too?”

That just made him laugh more. Mickey shook his head at his husband, taking a couple of minutes to calm himself down.

“You’re not fucking crazy.”

“Yes I am. There’s too much wrong with me, why would you choose to tie yourself down to me? I have nothing to offer you.”

“We got married cause we fucking love each other.” Mickey replied, Ian’s words from the diner proposal ringing in his ears.

“What so we really did go down to the courthouse in some tuxes like a couple of old queens?” Ian asked with a small joyless laugh.

“Polish Doll actually.”

“Aren’t they homophobes?”

“Worked around it.” Mickey replied, lips twitching upwards just at the memory of that day. “C’mon man, let’s not do this here.”

Ian sighed but seemed slightly more accepting of Mickey coming home with him now, or at least he wasn’t outwardly fighting it as they continued the short trudge back to the South Wallace house.

“I’m tired, think I’m gonna go to bed early.”

“You sure that’s okay? They said you had a concussion.”

“A mild concussion. And it’s fine, as long as I can walk straight and keep a conversation I can sleep.”

Mickey’s heart leapt up in his chest at those words, was he starting to remember?

“You remember all that medical shit?”

“What medical shit? Carl’s always getting concussions so I remember that stuff.”

Mickey tried to hide his disappointment but probably not well enough as Ian gave him a weird look before shaking his head and climbing up the stairs.

Mickey sighed as he watched the retreating form of his husband, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes that he refused to let fall as he headed to get a beer from the fridge. The first of likely many this evening.

Mickey was halfway through his second one when the front door opened, Carl, Debbie and Franny coming into the house, with the two siblings arguing about some dumb shit or other. The noise soon bringing Liam down from his room.

Not for the first time Mickey was grateful for how self obsessed the majority of the Gallaghers were. Liam had acknowledged him before being dragged into whatever drama his siblings had going on, while Franny was too invested in her cartoons to notice much. Meaning Mickey got away with mostly staying out of it while he finished his beer before deciding it was time to check on his husband.

Slowly pulling the accordion door open, Mickey swore his beat stopped when he saw that the room was empty, remembering teenaged Ian’s tendency to run when things got hard. Pulling back quickly, Mickey scanned the first floor of the house before landing on the slightly ajar door to the old boys room.

Rushing down the hall, Mickey only felt like he could breathe again once the rickety old door was open and he could see Ian curled up on his old bed, having forgotten he ever moved rooms.

Mickey went back to their bedroom, digging around under the bed to find the wedding album he’d created with Franny not that long ago. His young niece insisting she’d be a big help. The overall look ended up being slightly childish but it would still hopefully have the desired effect today, to get Ian to realised what he hadn’t been able to six years ago. That he loved him and wasn’t going anywhere.

Back in the boys room, Mickey carefully placed the album down on the side table. Leaning over he ran his fingers through Ian’s hair, the younger man nuzzling into his hand even in his sleep, looking so peaceful all the while.

Mickey couldn’t bring himself to wake him up, if he didn’t have his memories back, all being awake would bring him was pain and misery. At least in his sleep he he could be happy.

Mickey grabbed a pillow from the abandoned third bed and lay down on the floor to wait, he didn’t want to be too far away from Ian, not right now but the days events had been too exhausting. He just needed to close his eyes for a few seconds

~page break-

When Ian woke up the room was lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He could hear snores coming from the other occupants of the room, Carl up in the bunk bed and— Mickey sleeping on the floor? Ian remembered the events of the day, the doctors who told him he’d forgotten six years of his life, and Mickey who had stayed by his side throughout all of it, not caring about the breakup. Although, he supposed, to Mickey that must seem like ancient history by now.

Leaning over to properly look at his now husband, Ian’s eye caught something resting beside the bed that hadn’t been there before.

Picking it up he couldn’t help the small gasp that left him once he realised what was in his hands. The photo on the front was of Mickey and himself, dressed up in fancy tuxes, flipping the camera off with their other arms wrapped around each other.

Ian brushed his finger against the photo Mickey softly before slowly turning the page. The album was filled with photos upon photos of them, dancing, laughing, kissing. The ones that must have been taken while they exchanged their vows made him pause the most. The serious looks on their faces, followed by the utter joy in their grins from the pictures of them walking down the aisle together.

They fucking loved each other. After everything, they really fucking loved each other.

Ian pulled the album to his chest, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He wanted to keep looking but his head was hurting now more than ever and it helped to close his eyes.Still it wasn’t long before he fell asleep, soothed by the images of his wedding to the love of his life.

~page break~

Waking up groggy hours later, Ian sat up with a groan, looking around his old room and the down at the album still in his arms confused.

“Hey you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Mickey asked, sitting up from his place on the ground.

Looking at Mickey, Ian suddenly remembered everything that had happened yesterday. It was strange to remember a time that he didn’t remember so much of his life.

Ian quickly moved off the bed to wrap his arms around his husband, not being able to go without holding Mickey any longer, they’d lost enough time and yesterday only proved that.

“I’m so sorry Mick.”

Mickey tensed in his arms.

“What you sorry about?”

“Yesterday, fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I’d manage if all you remembered was from one of our breakups.” Ian breathed into his neck.

“You remember?” Mickey asked, not quite ready to let his guard down after the hell that had been the day before.

“I remember everything Mick.”

Ian couldn’t be sure but thought he heard a slight sob before Mickey’s arms tightened around him, bringing him as close to his body as possible.

“Don’t fucking do that again Gallagher.”

“I promise Mick.” Ian replied, kissing Mickey’s neck where his head was buried. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Anonymous requested: I know in a post you said something about Alex getting sensory overload so for the requests maybe Alex getting sensory overload and Willie being there to do his best to help Alex out

Ahhh, I love this request so much! This is my favourite Alex headcanon that I have so I’m really glad you requested this. I wrote it as a mixture of what I go through when I get sensory overload and also what I’ve found through research so more people can hopefully relate. I haven’t proof-read it yet, but I’ll come back and do that later. Thank you so much for the request!

Title from All You’re Dreaming Of by Liam Gallagher.

TW: sensory overload, anxiety

When The World Is At Its Worst

Alex had three extremes: worrying himself so much that he overworked, worrying himself so much that he got nothing done, and worrying himself so much that he broke. Normally, he could cope with pushing himself too hard – at least that way he got things done, and when he ran out of errands to make himself run it gave him some time to relax and recalibrate. Getting little done was more stressful, but it tended to happen less often, so Alex didn’t see it as much of a problem. What Alex struggled with the most was pulling himself back together when he felt utterly ruined.

Sometimes – not as often as he worked too hard, but not as seldom as he worked too little – Alex would worry himself to the point where everything simply became too much. The point where every sensation was painfully overwhelming, distressing in a way nothing else really compared too. Lights shone too brightly, noises were amplified tenfold, and if something was touching him he could feel it like a hand clasped too tightly on his skin. His parents had said it was just him being sensitive, Willie had said it was probably something called sensory overload, but Alex just wished it didn’t happen to him.

The worst part was that it was usually caused by him working himself too hard, something he didn’t think he could have ever stopped if he tried. He would worry, which would make him work, which would worry him more if things weren’t going well, and then his mind would dissolve into a mess of disarrayed senses and feelings and it hurt. He would shut down, which only seemed to make his anxieties worse.

It hadn’t happened in a while though, so that made Alex feel a little better about the whole thing. Maybe, if he’d got lucky for once, those episodes were starting to go away. Maybe he didn’t have to worry about them so much now that they hadn’t happened in a few months. Maybe he could start to get on with his life as normal. He could hope, at the very least.

Exams week was coming up at Los Feliz. For Alex, when exam stress hit, it hit hard. He wasn’t even sure what worried him so much about exams. Perhaps it was the big fiasco that school always made about exams, having to sit in total silence with the threat of disqualification looming over you so much that it was nerve-wracking to even lift your head to look at the time. Perhaps it was the orderly rows and having an entire year group lumped in the hall together, making it feel so formal and suffocating and painfully important in a way it almost certainly wasn’t. Perhaps it was the unpredictability of it all, not knowing what would come up or what it would be best to revise.

It didn’t matter too much to Alex what was stressing him out – even when he knew what was causing his nerves, he had never been much good at combatting them. His strategy this time was to prepare for the exams as much as he could, force himself to soak in as much information as possible. He just wanted to give himself a chance to be confident that he knew everything because just maybe that would help him do well and calm down.

He had enlisted Willie to help him revise over the weekend. Willie was more than happy to do so – he had said he was looking forward to spending some quality time with his boyfriend even if it was just the two of them pouring over a biology revision guide for four hours straight. If Alex hadn’t been so conscious that he needed to be revising, he would have felt bad that he was spending time with Willie without spending time with him, but thankfully Willie truly didn’t seem to mind.

“Ten out of ten, hotdog,” Willie said triumphantly after Alex had given them his final answer to the quick quiz Willie had been giving him. “Third time in a row, too. You’re going to ace this test.”

Alex closed his eyes and rubbed his fingers against his temples. He didn’t say anything. Willie had sounded certain that Alex would do well for the whole day, but the truth was that Alex felt like he was guessing most of the answers and getting them right by pure chance. Either that or Willie was giving him the benefit of the doubt and saying he was right when he was actually miles off. Despite the fact that he had constantly shown he knew what he was talking about, he still felt completely clueless.

Willie didn’t seem best pleased with Alex’s silence. “Hey,” they said, gently taking one of Alex’s hands. “You know your stuff. You’ll be fine. And if you’re really that worried, you’ve still got the rest of the week to refresh your memory. We’ve got this.”

Alex hummed noncommittally. He heard Willie sigh.

“Why don’t we take a quick break?” Willie suggested, running his hand through Alex’s hair.

At that, Alex’s eyes shot open, he sat up and immediately stiffened, looking wide-eyed at a baffled Willie.

“No,” he said, “I don’t need to take a break. I’m not going to be able to learn all this if I take time out.”

Willie looked at him, his brown eyes sympathetic. “I don’t want to push you too hard. At least get up and get a glass of water – we’ve been sat in the same place for hours, it’ll do you good to clear your head.”

“I don’t need to,” Alex repeated. How could he get up and walk away when he still had five more topics to cover? When he needed to doublecheck he understood everything and still have time to solve some physics problems afterwards? He couldn’t just ‘take a break’. It would ruin everything.

“Are you sure?” Willie said. They didn’t look convinced, but Alex wasn’t going to back down. He knew what he needed to do and he was going to stick to it.

He nodded shortly and then flicked to a new page. “Test me on this,” he told Willie, who – with a reluctant sigh – began to ask him questions about the information.

The problem was that Willie’s suggestion had thrown Alex off-balance. Now all he could think of was not working and how that would be detrimental, it didn’t even cross his mind that it didn’t matter because he was still working now. He suddenly found himself unable to concentrate on the questions and the ridiculously long sciencey words Willie was using, his mind bogged down with practical methods and half-remembered equations that had nothing to do with what he was revising.

He quickly started getting questions wrong, saying the first thing that came to mind only to be told that the right answer was something he should have known because it was obvious. With each wrong answer he became more and more distressed, tears stinging his eyes, feeling stupid.

“Breathe, Alex,” Willie said. “Take your time with the questions, you don’t need to rush it. This isn’t the exam, it’s just you and me here. You have all the time you need.”

But, Alex wanted to say, I won’t have all that time when the exam comes and I need to get this right now. He didn’t get how Willie couldn’t see that. So he kept guessing, giving answers he was sure were wrong, but his mind feeling so fogged that he couldn’t think of anything else.

He didn’t even realise he had started crying until Willie reached out to wipe a tear from his cheek and the sensation wasn’t soothing – he could feel it so deeply that it almost hurt.

Without thinking, he shuffled across the bed where they were both sat, out of Willie’s reach. For a brief moment, Willie looked confused, but then they seemed to realise what was going on and he didn’t try to move any closer.

Alex hated this feeling and he had been so sure that it was going to stop happening. But he had clearly been wrong, because now that he was sat in a different place it felt wrong. The way he could see his bedroom, from a slightly different angle to before, felt so strange and so alien that it hurt. The bedcovers he was sat on now were too cold and coarse against his skin, so he pulled his legs against his chest. That moved his shirt slightly, and he became painfully aware of how the material felt, how it clung to his body like a second skin, and that hurt too. He realised that the lights in his room were too bright, far too bright, so he clamped his eyes shut and slapped his hands over his eyes.

He heard the ruffling of bedsheets, presumably as Willie got up from the bed. He heard him flick the light-switch off and pull the curtains closed – a click that he felt like a knife in his skull and a grating drag that pounded against his ears. He pressed his thumbs over his ears while still keeping his hands over his eyes, trying to block out the noise. Everything was too loud, too bright, too something to be comfortable. He couldn’t talk, he couldn’t move.

He felt trapped.

There was no telling how long it went on for. He couldn’t move his hands away from his eyes to look at his watch, not that it was really the biggest thing weighing on his mind. In fact, for the first time in hours, there wasn’t much on his mind at all apart from how he just wanted to go back to feeling comfortable. He wanted to hear without it being too loud, look at things without hurting his eyes, take that break Willie had suggested – and probably apologise to Willie too.

These things usually lasted quite a while. If Alex had to guess, it would have been about fifteen minutes since he shuffled away from Willie when he slowly took his hands away from his eyes and ears and drew in a great, shuddering breath. He blinked his eyes open and was grateful that Willie had turned the lights down. He looked over to where Willie was, perched on the edge of the bed, watching Alex’s face carefully. Willie raised his eyebrows, asking a silent question, and Alex nodded.

“Can I touch you?” they asked softly. Again, Alex just nodded, still not feeling able to speak.

Gently, Willie reached out his hand and did the same thing that had sparked the overload in the first place, wiping away tears from Alex’s cheek. This time Alex didn’t shuffle away, but he didn’t lean into Willie’s touch either; it wasn’t insufferable anymore, but it still wasn’t pleasant.

“What do you need me to do for you, Alex?” Willie asked.

Alex thought for a moment, then made himself reach out and take Willie’s hand. Willie held it tightly, knowing that light touches were often worse than firm ones. Alex let his fingers gently trail along Willie’s palm and their wrist. He looked tearily into Willie’s eyes and almost felt himself smile at the reassuring look on Willie’s face.

“You’re okay, hotdog,” Willie told him. “You’re through the worst of it now. Just breathe. Dry your eyes and breathe.”

He did as he said, wiping at the dried tears on his cheeks with the back of his hand. Willie squeezed his hand, close, reassuring, encouraging. He didn’t talk, he just let Alex calm down the way he needed to, saving most of the noise for when Alex was definitely ready.

“I’m sorry,” Alex croaked eventually. His voice box felt dry and scratchy.

Willie shook their head. “You have nothing to apologise for. You can’t help it.”

“I should be able to by now,” Alex protested.

“You might never be able to,” Willie said matter-of-factly. “That’s not a bad thing, it’s just something that happens to you. It sucks, of course it does, but this might be a part of you forever. You don’t need to apologise for something beyond your control.”

“It shouldn’t be beyond my control.”

Willie left a hesitant pause but then seemed to make his mind up. “Don’t let your parents get that into your head. Don’t let them make you believe that. I don’t care what they say about this – they don’t get it. Alex, there’s nothing about this that makes you weak or too sensitive or whatever it is they tell you. Lots of people get sensory overload, it’s not something alien or weird. It’s not something you can stop forever, so please don’t hurt yourself trying to.”

Alex looked at him, suddenly teary-eyed again. “I don’t want it to happen forever.”

“I’m not saying we can’t do things to make it better,” they replied kindly. “I’m sure there’s techniques that can make it easier to deal with, even if they don’t prevent it forever. Or maybe it’s time we looked at getting you some therapy or counselling. What do you think?”

“My parents would never let me get help like that,” Alex said, chuckling darkly.

For just a moment though, he let himself think about it. He let himself wonder what it would be like if he could see a professional and get the right kind of help. Maybe he would learn not only how to calm his sensory overload but also how to control his anxiety better in general. Maybe if he’d been getting the right kind of help before all this then he wouldn’t have had the exam stress anyway and he wouldn’t even be having this conversation. There were endless possibilities but he was sure he’d never see any of them come to light.

“If you don’t want to tell them about it then  we could wait until you turn eighteen,” Willie suggested, squeezing Alex’s hand again. “That way you don’t need parental permission.”

“That’s not for another three months,” Alex said petulantly.

“So?”

“So what if it stops by then?”

Willie raised his eyebrows. “Do you think it will have?”

Alex couldn’t have given an honest answer. He said nothing, just pulled himself to Willie and hugged him tightly. He felt their arms instantly loop around his waist, their hands planting themselves firmly on his back. Alex buried his face into Willie’s shoulder, holding him as close as he possibly could, all of a sudden wanting to touch him as much as he could.

“You’re going to be okay, hotdog,” Willie said, pressing a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I promise.”

“I believe you.”

*

Taglist (if you want to be added or removed just let me know): @ace-bookworm @williexmercer @willex-owns-my-heart @itstiger720 @the-reckless-and-the-brave @that-one-newsie @bluedarkness @lookingthroughmirrors @tmp-jatp @salty-star @julieandthequeers @lmaohuh @sunnysbright 

Taken - Part 11

A/N: I know it’s been forever since I’ve updated this series, but I still constantly go back to it. I must have worked on this chapter, and revised it 15 times. I just wasn’t satisfied on how it kept turning out. It’s been 2 years since I started this series, but hopefully, one day I will finish it.

Summary: Liam just learned of Catheryne’s disappearance? How will he handle it?

Tag List: @devineinterventions2​ @madaraism​ @theroyalweisme​ @drakewalkerwhipped​ @laniquelove-blog​ @drakesfiance​ @hhiggs​ @hellospunkiebrewster​ @alicars​ @mrswalkerreynolds​ @mfackenthal​ @simplyaiden-blog​ @hopefulmoonobject​ @blackcatkita​ @cocomaxley​ @boneandfur​ @lizeboredom​ @crayziimaginations​ @umccall71​ @zarina-x-zig​ @trianiasti​ @ranishajay​ @heatherfilliez​ *Let me know if you want to be taken off (pun intended) or added into the tag list for this series.*

Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Also, credit to where its due for the image of the book cover.

CATCH UP HERE

Drake watches as Catherine fades into the horizon. A heavy weight settles in his heart knowing that when his best friend wakes he will again feel the lost he felt when Catheryne was first taken during the Homecoming ball. The only difference is that he won’t be able to find her unless she wants to be found.

He knows he did the right thing by letting her go. He could see how much she has changed. He could see the struggle and pain raging behind her eyes. He also knew that sometimes the palace walls can feel more like a prison than a home. She would never truly heal being stuck within its confines. He lets her go because he cares for her, too.

He decides to take a horse for a ride to clear his mind and anticipate for the impending morning coming.

“Come along, Copper,” he leads the horse out of his pen and dresses him for a ride. Once done, he climbs on top of the beautiful brown horse and tugs on the reins to trot along. He needs to get away and breathe fresh air so he leads the horse towards Blackspine Mountains. It was quite the ride to get there but it’s the only place he knows where he could find a sense of peace before the storm and be as far away from the hustle and bustle of the palace and the capital.

Once they reach the spacious field on top of the mountain, he let Copper show off his power. The wind ruffles his hair, the scenery becomes a blur as the stallion runs from one side to the other.

“Woo-hoo,” Drake shouted. Copper reaches the edge of the field and the exhilaration slowly fades away. He leads the horse to a nearby tree with a good view of the horizon. He watches as the morning sun peak over the mountain. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as the rays of bright sunlight hits his face.

Meanwhile, at the palace…

Liam starts to stir from his deep, heavy sleep. The previous day, hell, the previous months had taken its toll and his body desperately needed the rest. Falling asleep beside Catheryne was the comfort and remedy he needed after a long day of kingly duties.

By the time he fully wakes, the sun was beaming brightly through the window. He checks his watch and realized his staff must have let him sleep in because the clock read 10 AM. He puts on a smile as he turns around to reach for Catheryne on the other side of the bed, but his hands met an empty sheet.

His eyes open wide and alert when he realizes she must have been gone for a while since her side of the bed left no trace of body heat. Perhaps she’s in the shower, he thought to himself. He gets up and walks straight to the bathroom to search for her.

“Catheryne? Are you in there?” He asks, yet no reply.

He moves on to the closet and opens it. Empty. Where could she be? He looks around the room for another minute when he finally noticed the neatly folded paper resting on her pillow. Maybe it’s a note saying where she went.

He walked across the room, picked up the letter, and began to read it.

My Dearest Liam,

When we first met in New York, I told you that what I wanted most in life was to fall in love. I lived and saw how my parents never failed to love each other even with the…lifestyle…that they chose. Coming to Cordonia for you, I was able to make that dream come true.

Falling in love with you has been the greatest adventure. I know with the recent events you blame yourself. You probably wish that you can turn back time and not meet me that fateful night so I wouldn’t come here, and I would be safe, but Liam I wouldn’t trade this for anything. I wouldn’t trade our love for my safety or anything in this world.

I know that you’ve been avoiding me since I woke up from the hospital. I don’t comprehend the reason why you would, but I forgive you. I know this isn’t easy for you. I guess putting distance is easier than having to deal with the situation. Ignorance and avoidance are far easier. I don’t blame you.

By now, you must be wondering why I am writing you this letter. The painful reason is to say goodbye. I am not brave enough to tell you in person. If I did, I could never fathom leaving you. Please understand that this is the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. It is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do, and I’ve been tortured.

You must be wondering why I am doing this. It’s for you. I can’t stand watching the world change around and for me anymore. Everyone looks and treats me differently in the palace. I can see fear in the eyes of our friends, and in your eyes. I can no longer be ok with being the person that holds you down.

I am also leaving for my own self. I can’t heal being trapped in the palace. I lost my old self in the walls of those tunnels. I must find who I am, how I fit into this world, into your world again. I don’t know if we will ever see each other again. One thing I ask of you is to live your life. Be happy. If not for yourself, for me. I also hope that one day you can find it in yourself to forgive me.

I love you, Liam. I will always love you. You own my heart, now and forever.

Catheryne

He didn’t realize that he was weeping until he finished reading and saw the drops of tears blurring the ink. He read the letter over and over again, his heart breaking more every time. This can’t be real. This can’t be happening. I just got you back.

Liam felt his chest tighten and it became harder to breathe. He couldn’t see clearly from the tears, and he felt as if the world was spinning too fast around him. His body involuntarily sagged from the weight in his chest. He collapsed on the bed tired and alone. What is happening?

And to make it worse, a knock sounded from the other side. He didn’t want anyone to see him this way. But no matter how much he wiped his eyes, the tears kept coming.

“Little blossom?” Maxwell cautiously said as he opened the door. But he was shocked to find only Liam in the room, faced away from him. He could tell something was wrong by the way he comported himself.

“Liam? What’s wrong?” When Liam didn’t respond he came a bit closer, and saw the tears rolling down his face. He also noticed the crumpled paper lodged in his white-knuckled fist. He sat beside him, and waited till he was ready to open up.

After a few minutes, Maxwell was startled when Liam abruptly stood up and left the room. Not knowing anything, he followed him to wherever he was headed.

“Liam, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Where’s Catheryne?” He noticed Liam’s grimace at the sound of her name, and he figured it had something to do with her and the letter still in his hands. They arrived in the large security room after practically running down the different halls of the palace.

“Bastien, I need you to pull up the camera feeds in the entire palace from the last 12 hours,” Liam ordered.

“Sir, what’s this about?” Bastien inquired.

“I don’t have time to explain right now. Just do it!” Liam commanded in fury.

Bastien nodded curtly and pulled up the feeds as instructed. Liam didn’t know what he was looking for until he saw her in one of the feeds walking to what looks to be the stables in the middle of the night.

The image shifted and it showed Drake and Catheryne talking while she dressed Nightingale. He saw every detail. He saw her hand on his shoulder. It was her saying goodbye, and Drake didn’t do anything to stop her.

“Where is Drake?” Liam asked through clenched teeth. Bastien relayed the question to guards stationed in different parts of the palace.

“I received word that he just got back from a ride, Your Majesty,” he replied.

“Tell him to meet me in my office. Now!” Liam instructed and deftly left the room with Maxwell in tow.

When he arrived in his office, he went straight to his bar cart and poured a generous amount of scotch in a tumblr and gulped it in one round.

“Liam, what’s going on?” Maxwell asked from behind him. He had completely forgotten he was there. He opened his mouth to reply, but no words came out. Thankfully, he was saved by the sound of the door opening. When no greeting came, he knew it was Drake.

“Maxwell, could you give me and Drake a moment alone please?” He asked. He didn’t see it, but Maxwell nodded and walked out of the king’s study.

Drake eyed Liam and he knew by the way his friend stood that he knew about Catheryne. How could he not?

“How could you?” Liam whispered his back still turned away from his friend, and Drake was taken aback by the question. It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.

“How could you just let her go?!” He yelled as he turned around and faced Drake, his eyes blazing with rage, hurt, and a hint of betrayal.

Drake felt awful. He opened his mouth to try and respond, but to no avail. He didn’t know how to tell his best friend in the world that he tried to convince her to stay, but knew that letting her go was the best thing for her.

“What? You have nothing to say, Drake?” Liam yelled.

“I tried to make her stay, Liam,” he whispered with his head downcast. He couldn’t look at Liam’s eyes any longer. He felt too guilty.

“Well, from the looks of it, you didn’t try hard enough because she’s gone!” Liam said. He couldn’t hold his emotions in, it seemed. He was angry. No, he was beyond angry, he was enraged for many reasons; at the man he called his friend, at her, at the fact he didn’t even get to say goodbye, he couldn’t decide.

Liam began to pace across his office to try and steam off the rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“Liam, we both know that when Catheryne has her mind made up there’s nothing we can do to change it. She made the choice to leave,” Drake explained.

Liam knew his friend was right. Catheryne was head strong, but she could also be a little stubborn when it came to some things. Liam’s resolve began to fade away and he collapsed on the sofa beside him. His head rested in his hands. He was so tired, so very tired of it all.

“I just got her back, Drake, and now she’s gone again,” the sullen king murmured. “This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to get married, have a family, and grow old together. Why did you let her leave?”

“I’m sorry, Liam. I really am, man, but I didn’t fight her because…because she didn’t seem like herself anymore. The Catheryne we saved wasn’t the Catheryne we knew. She told me she needed to leave because she doesn’t fit into this world anymore and that she needed to find herself,” he relayed what she told him the previous night.

“She also told me to tell you that she’s sorry and the she loves you,” he added.

“You know what hurts the most is the fact that she couldn’t tell me that herself,” Liam said.

“Can you blame her?” Drake replied, walking to sit down across his saddened friend. “Could you honestly say that you would have let her go if she had told you herself that she was leaving?”

He contemplated the question, and he knew deep down that he wouldn’t have the strength to let her go again. He couldn’t live without her. Would that be selfish of him? He knew how much she was struggling fitting back in. He could see it in her eyes, but he was trying to ignore, be naïve, and think that over time she’ll become herself again.

“Will I ever see her again?” He asked his friend, lifting his head to look at Drake with tear-stricken eyes.

“I…I don’t know,” he honestly replied.

“You know that I have to try and find her, right?”

“I know, Liam, but we both know that if she doesn’t want, she won’t be found,” Drake admitted the painful truth.

Liam knew that, but he can’t just let her go. He has to try and find her. His sanity depends on it. He walks to the balcony of his office and gazes down at the city below. Soon, he will have to release a statement that Cordonia’s beloved duchess is gone. He doesn’t know how the people would react, but he makes a personal promise to himself. I will find you, my love. No matter how long it takes.

End Game

Prologue

This series was requested by my best friend- she took advantage whilst I was drunk months ago 🥴🤣 thank you for designing the moodboard 👍🏼

“Series Request of Riley x Liam based around the song End Game - Taylor Swift ft Future and Ed Sheeran - where Liam is jealous of Riley and Drake spending time together and questions her because he thinks something is going on with them, but nothing is, and he feels he has a right to be jealous even though he’s engaged to Maddy 🙄”

Book: The Royal Romance (Book 2)

Pairings: Liam x Riley, Drake x Riley, Liam x Madeleine

Song inspiration: End Game, Taylor Swift Ft Future and Ed Sheeran

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy.

Word Count: 1252

Tags- I wasn’t sure who to tag, if you want to be removed/added let me know.

@pedudley @kacie-0156 @loveellamae @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @queenjilian @texaskitten30 @lodberg @rafasgirl23415 @cmestrella @desireepow-1986 @ravenpuff02 @ladyangel70 @bascmve01 @hopefulmoonobject @axwalker @cordonianroyalty

*****

I choose Lady Riley. I’ve always known that my choice was her - ever since she unexpectedly showed up at the masquerade ball. That night we met in New York, there was an immediate attraction towards her- she isn’t noble but she was free spirited. She was different- in a positive way. She’s beautiful, I have never believed in love at first sight until that night of my bachelor party.

I choose Lady Riley.

Spending time with her alone- proved difficult during my social season. But I was determined to prove how much she meant to me, whilst also playing fair with the other suitors. Luckily she was understanding about this. Or so I assume. Every time she smiled, my heart filled with joy. I just wanted to claim her as mine there and then.

I choose Lady Riley.

Riley, the girl who wasn’t bothered about; Olivia’s abrupt attitude, Madeleines snarky and bitchy comments, Kiara talking in French all the time, Penelope unable to prevent herself from talking about poodles constantly. This woman. I want her, no I need her to be my Queen. She’s told me herself she loves me. What’s stopping us?

“I choose.... Lady Madeleine.”

Those words still haunt me, seeing the love of my life dragged out of the Coronation ball due to something that wasn’t her fault. Have I lost her good? Quite possibly. Why did I listen to my father and Regina? Why didn’t I follow my heart?

Now she is back, or so I’ve heard. I am grateful for the Beaumont’s persuading for her to return. Even with the fake scandal hovering over her. Will she give me the time of day? Allow myself to explain my reasoning for everything. I know Riley, she is strong. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.

My thoughts seem to drift towards Drake Walker. My best friend. Thinking back to my social season, a smile always seemed to creep up onto his face every time he was with her. I noticed them sneaking off together every so often. They didn’t realise that I was watching them- but I was, and will continue to. Why am I jealous? I shouldn’t be. But I can’t help it. I’m engaged to Countess Madeleine, the most ludicrous decision that I have ever made in my lifetime. Riley is close to all the friends that she has made here, Drake was horrendous to her at the beginning. I have an inkling that Drake may have strong feelings for with his reactions after the disastrous ball. Brooks. Why does he call her that? Have I lost her to my best friend? Is the surname nickname a little morse code for his feelings towards her? I need to end this engagement promptly and win my love back.

*****

I wouldn’t blame you if you’re furious with me, but please meet me so I can at least explain. I’ll be on the balcony outside my room in twenty minutes.

I know that she will receive this letter. I know that she will most likely read it. How she will react is unknown. When I first saw her, she was very abrupt - explaining how she hasn’t forgiven me. Not that I was presumptuous as to think that she would. I grit my teeth as Madeleine placed her hand on my arm as I needed to tell Riley that we should talk. Then Madeleine had the nerve to kiss me. I watched as Riley’s lip trembled, she must have known what I needed to tell her- Maxwell looped his arm through hers and tore her away, out of my view. Maybe he could have foreseen her becoming upset. After all, out of everybody he has spent the most time with her. Civilly she explained that it was nice seeing both myself and the countess.

Deep down in my heart I hope that she will somehow sneak away and meet me. I begin pacing the floor of the balcony- wondering whether or not if I’m wasting my time. Would I blame her if she didn’t show up? Of course I wouldn’t. After a while, I decide to lean over the balcony- staring off into the distance.

“Made it!” Hearing a mumbled voice due to wind, I didn’t look from where it came from. My heart filled with joy. Assuming she had slightly forgiven me. Baby steps.

“Riley?”

“Do I really sound like little blossom? I think after that jump- you can call me spidey!” Turning around, I tried to hide the disappointment of one of my closest friends being here instead.

“Sorry, Max. I assume that she is avoiding me?”

“Yeah. Sort of. Listen, Li. She’s heartbroken. She misses you like crazy. She just doesn’t understand why everything happened the way it did. Tonight was her first night back- in time, maybe she will talk with you?”

“Where is she? I need to see her. I know I’m risking her safety- if I’m with you hopefully no one will question it. I need her Max, without her my life is dull....”

“Erm.... As she quoted “I need to see someone else who I trust. I know neither you nor this person would break my heart. I need to see Drake before talking to Liam’..” Maxwell looked at me with sorrow in his eyes as he bit his lip when reiterating what she said. I swallowed hard, before fixing my stoic expression.

“Of course, she would want to see him. If Lady Hana was here I’d assume she would want to see her too. But Drake isn’t here...”

“We went for some fresh air. For some reason he was in the courtyard- she ran up to him. He explained that he wasn’t going to come until tomorrow. That’s when I came here, as I left I did hear him explain that you take her safety very seriously as we all do.”

What are they doing now? Is he sweeping her into his arms? I wish she was in my arms. Why him? Why my best friend, who hates her? Does he actually hate her? She trusted me, but I’ve lost that now. I’ve broken her. How will I ever get her to regain my trust?

“Li? Are you okay?”

“Yes. Of course I am, Lord Maxwell. I just really miss her. I love her. So much, it fucking hurts.”

“Tomorrow will be a better day my friend... I’ll talk to her.” I hope so. I really hope so, is it too late to abdicate? Is it too late to marry for love? I laughed to myself inside knowing that this wasn’t an option. Not to someone like myself anyway.

****

Maxwell could see how heartbroken Liam was. Thinking back to their time growing up together, he had never seen him this emotional before. The only possible time was when his mother had lost her life, far too soon. Before heading to his room, he decided to check in on Riley- just to make sure that she was handling things better than she was during her few weeks in Ramsford. As he was about to knock on the door- he heard Drakes voice.

Brooks you know how I feel about you.

Slowly opening the door, he witnessed Riley hug Drake tightly. Retrieving his phone, he ran to his room. Pick up, Li. Pick up. Please. No answer. Great!

Removing the stray twigs out of his hair, he decided to focus his mind on gaining some sleep after he had sent a text.

Li, we need to talk. You need to end this engagement pronto! Don’t ask any questions- please just do it ASAP! Maxi

“There were times I struggled to find my place in the band,” Louis admits today.

But it’s often the quiet ones you’ve got to look out for.

Behind the scenes he was very much centre stage: Louis was the mouthpiece, constantly fighting the boys’ corner and acting as chief negotiator between band and management.

“Being from Doncaster,” he says, “I’ve never had a problem with telling anyone ‘no’.”

“There was a while when I was worried I was getting left behind – some of the boys are on to their second album now,” he says, taking a draw onthe first of several cigarettes. “At times, I’ve been swimming against the tide, working out who I am. I was trying to find a way back into the industry, thinking of it mathematically rather than going off feeling and emotion.” 

He’s referring to collaborations with Bebe Rexha and Steve Aoki in 2016 and 2017 respectively, which, although successful, weren’t where his heart lay. With Kill My Mind – the exhilarating ’90s-inspired opening track of the album Walls – he sets his stall out with a clear departure from anything he’s done before.

Walls is about regret, reflection and ultimately, hope, and feels like Louis, who sings in his still-broad Doncaster accent, has finally found his voice.

“I’ve always wanted to be autobiographical and honest. And in the last six months the songs I’ve written and recorded are of a better standard because there’s an honesty there,” he says.

Honesty certainly characterises the album, sometimes devastatingly so. There’s no escaping the fact that Louis, 28, has faced unimaginable pain over the last few years.

“It wasn’t until after I’d written it that I realised how much vulnerability I’d put in there,” he says. “When I first performed it… I had fans coming up to me in tears telling me their stories, and that’s not something I’ve ever had before. And to do it on that level about something so delicate… It was really cool to take something so dark and make people feel like that.

“I had to get a song like that off my chest. It was difficult writing about things that felt trivial compared to what was going on in my life. There was, I think, a necessity to write that song before I could move on creatively.”

Understandably, Louis won’t talk specifically about Félicité. But when asked about how grief has shaped him both as a man and an artist, he pays tribute to Jay.

“I think it’s a credit to how my mum brought me up that I have a resilience,” he says. “There’s nothing I want less than to have people feel sorry for me, so having that mentality has helped me through the hardest of times.

"I’ve also felt a real support system through my fans. I’d always felt it on a lower level, but when it’s something so impactful and life-defining, I really did feel it from them.”

Days after Jay’s death, Louis appeared live on The X Factor to perform Just Hold On with Aoki.

He was clearly in pieces and it was hard enough just watching, but somehow he held it together, presumably thanks again to that resilience.

“Sometimes it’s fight or flight,” Louis explains. “And the way I was brought up and because of where I’m from, I only see one option in that situation. I also wanted to put myself second and do it for my mum.

"That moment was bigger than me and it was actually incredibly liberating. It used every bit of strength and power and I look back on that performance as one of the proudest moments of my career.”

He says he tends not to suppress emotion and is able to share his darkest points with those he’s closest to.

But as the eldest of Jay’s seven children (five girls and two boys), he also feels a huge weight of responsibility towards his younger siblings and hasn’t had any professional therapy himself.

“No, no, nothing like that. That might be down to a bit of Northern pride, but I have a lot of responsibility on my shoulders and that drives me. I’ve got siblings who look up to me and I’ve got my grandparents as well. So all those things keep my head screwed on.

“My mum had a massive influence on me and I lived with a lot of sisters in the house, so I do find it easier to speak about my emotions. But I’m also from Doncaster, where to be a guy is to be tough and traditional and I feel like [there are] times where pride kicks in and I just say I’m all right.

"I’m lucky that I’ve got good people around me who I can trust and who I can be completely vulnerable with and say how I feel. Nine times out of 10, I don’t bottle things up. I wear my heart on my sleeve.”

They sold 20 million albums worldwide, earning over £40million each, but the pressures of fame were, at times, intolerable. Louis says they were only able to keep their heads screwed on because they had each other.

“You can never be prepared for that. It was such a head f**k. But we grounded each other so the minute one of us acted like a d**khead one of the others would say: ‘Stop being a d**khead’. I see people in this job surrounding themselves with superiority and they lose the concept of the real world.”

He remembers doing a shoot with the band for Pepsi over in the States with American footballer Drew Brees.

“This guy was like a god and we were insignificant when he was around, which we understood. But I’ve never seen anything like it. Every sentence that came out of his mouth he’d have an audience of hangers-on in hysterics.

"These people were so far up his arse and he didn’t have one good joke. He had no banter! I still hang around with my boys from Doncaster and I hear real stories all the time, which helps me understand the world that unfortunately I don’t get to see. Having empathy with people and a connection with the world is imperative for any songwriter.”

Harry Styles recently said that he never touched drugs during his time in the band (although he’s made up for that since), because he didn’t want to “mess it up”. Louis smiles as he confides that he can’t say the same.

“All I’ll say is that I did my fair share and enjoyed my time in the band. It’s right what Harry said and it was smart of him, but I definitely had a lot of fun in the band. I was always aware of how amazing the opportunity was, but also enjoying the moment for what it was. I lived like anyone else my age – the difference was that I was in One Direction.”

He’s in touch with Harry, Niall and Liam “sporadically” (we’ll come to Zayn shortly), but they’re all on very different paths for now.

“If we all went to a pub tomorrow it’d be like we’d never left. The enormity of what happened in One Direction creates a massive bond and we’ll always have that.

"There have been times when we’ve done each other’s heads in. There might be something I say in an interview that bugs Liam or vice versa, but we all know what each other is like and we can call each other up and say sorry for being a d**k. We’re like brothers.”

But that’s not necessarily the case with Zayn, who quit in 2015 and with whom Louis has had a turbulent relationship since. He was hurt when Zayn was the only one not to turn up at the X Factor studio to support him through his performance after Jay’s death, despite promising to be there.

Then there’s Zayn’s apparent repeated digs. In one interview he branded 1D’s music “generic as f**k”. There’s a difference between making a break from the past and dismissing it completely, and it’s a line Zayn perhaps hasn’t always managed to walk.

“Hmm,” agrees Louis, cautiously. “Other than maybe Niall, there is no one who is prouder of the band and the songs we created than me. But while what I did with One Direction is relevant, it doesn’t define who I am and I don’t struggle to make that dissociation.”

Does he think some of what Zayn has said has been disrespectful?

“Yeah, I do. But I can understand it. We have a lot of situations where we’re sat in interviews and if you’re in a certain mood you might run your mouth. The older you get the more you can tell if these things actually carry any malice or if they’re just a prod in the back. That’s life, innit? Sometimes people chat s**t and that’s the reality.”

He’s not ruling out resolving their differences in the future, but there’s no olive branch on the horizon.

“No, but I’ve not actively tried. We’ve all got a lot on our plates and there might be a day where I wake up and think: ‘OK, I want to right that wrong’, but not yet.”

After being in his company for a while, it’s not hard to see why Louis was 1D’s driving force backstage. He’s thoughtful, articulate, open and self-aware, but there’s a steeliness to him and the requisite pop-star swagger, which doesn’t seem to spill over into arrogance.

And that is reflected in his music, which is heavily influenced by the Arctic Monkeys, The Smiths and Oasis. In fact, the title track and latest single Walls sounds so similar to Oasis B-side and fans’ favourite Acquiesce that Louis’ manager flagged it as a potential issue.

“These kinds of things happen. There are only so many melodies you can write and if you listen to a band all the time like I do with Oasis…”

Anyway, says Louis. He had to make a choice.

“I was ready to risk it, but everyone said we should get in touch with Noel [Gallagher] so we did. Often the industry, and especially Noel’s world, can be a bit snobby and say: ‘F**k you you’re not using this song’. But he was really cool about it, signed it off no problem and although I’m sure he’s not happy about this, I f**king am, I’ve got a writing credit from Noel Gallagher on my album. That is some sick s**t so I’m buzzing.”

Is he nervous about going it alone? “I think I’ve got a good record so I’m confident. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t little bit nervous – there’s three and half years work gone into it so there’s a level of anticipation.”

The most overwhelming emotion though, is relief.

“Because it’s taken such a long time. I’m excited to go on to the next phase of my career.”

Can you do a coffee shop AU? I know that's cliche, but I was in the mood for one. Thanks!

Okay, okay, okay. So, like, this isn’t technically a coffee shop AU, but there’s a coffee shop involved, even if it is a Starbucks. Anyways, thank you for wanting me to write you some words, nonnie! That makes me super happy! I hope you enjoy!

When he’s eight, his dad says goodbye to him and sends him off to school on the bus with a wave and a smile. It’s the last time he ever sees his father.

He thinks it’s going to be the hardest thing he’s ever experienced.

When he’s fifteen, his mum tells him that she’s going to be fine, that she’s not going to be sick forever. And she’s not sick forever. She isn’t. She finally gets to relieve herself of her pain and her sadness as she passes away slowly and then all at once, leaving he and Liam to themselves.

A family of four is down to two.

He knows that his mum dying is going to be the hardest thing he’ll ever experience. He just knows that it can’t get worse than that.

Then he’s twenty-two, and he gets a knock on his flat’s door, the one he shares with Liam when he’s actually home. He knows what’s happening the moment he sees the uniform, but he refuses to accept it. He refuses to accept the words that are being said to him, the truth that is being unveiled. It simply can’t be true. It just can’t be. He won’t accept that his brother is gone too.

But he is.

He’s gone.

A family of four is no longer a family at all.

A family of four is a family of one.

Is a family of one even a family?

So he decides that his life is a life of tragedy and darkness, dark secrets and misunderstood emotions. His life is not one that he wishes upon others, but he’d be naïve to think his life is the lowest of the lows, that it can’t get better. Be better.

Because it can and it does. After his mates peel him from the floor of his flat covered in sweat and alcohol, they help him…recover isn’t quite the right word, and move on isn’t quite the right phrase. It’s more that they help him breathe, live, that they help him go one day at a time.

One day at a time.

That’s a nice way to think about it actually. If he can make it through today, just one day, then he can continue to do that. And maybe eventually he won’t wake with that ache of his losses every morning, his brother’s and mother’s faces coming to him nearly thirty seconds after he wakes up each and every day.

But that’s thinking too far ahead.

One day at a time.

He got fired from his last job, having missed too many days to grieve, but he can’t live without pay, can’t live without a way to keep his hands busy, so he finds somewhere else to work. It’s a little place by the ocean, a small café, and he knows that it’s not what he should be doing. He should be using his degree as an engineer, but honestly, he simply wants to keep busy. He wants to be somewhere he can smell the salt of the ocean, where he can talk to people, where he can watch them live their lives with smiles on their lips and laughter lines on their faces.

And that’s when he meets her.

Milah.

She’s gorgeous with her eyes and with the way that her brunette curls fall down her back. She has laugh lines on her face, but she has no smile on her lips. So when he takes her order, he tries to coax one out of her, just because it’s the kind thing to do. When she does smile, he decides that he wants to make her smile far more often.

So he does.

It’s all a bit of a whirlwind with the two of them. He can’t quite explain it. Not really. It’s, like, well, it’s like he really is breathing and living and experiencing life as more than one day at a time for the first time in the two years since Liam’s death. He loves her, and experiencing love somehow brings a bit of light back to him. It’s not the same light, not as bright, but at the end of the day, light is light.

At the end of the day, light can still be extinguished.

And it is when she tells him that she’s married, that she has a child. It’s a shock to his system, making his head spin, but before she can explain further, he’s accepting it. He loves her. She loves him. Obviously, she’s separated from her husband. Their love for each other must have ended long ago. It must have.

But it didn’t. She’s still with her husband even though she still loves Killian, so she tells Killian that she’s leaving him, that she has to go back to be with her family because it’s better for her son that way. It’s better for her that way.

And, well, it breaks his heart, but who is he to keep a family apart? Who is he to keep a family from being together when he himself wants nothing more than a family to be together.

It’s not like he had a choice in the matter anyways. She told him he was leaving, so she did. He thinks that might be what breaks him most of all. She wants to stay with him, but she’s doing what she thinks is best for her son and for her. She’s giving her life a chance again. She’s a good mum, and he thinks he loves her all the more for that despite the way his heart breaks.

He reminds himself that if his heart can be broken that means it still works.

It doesn’t mean that he’s not hurting.

But he knows how to pull himself up from heartbreak. He does. It’s become a constant in his life.

One day at a time.

He’s back to one day at a time.

He quits the job at the seaside café. It becomes too hard, too difficult to work there and be constantly reminded of his loss. And he knows that he can’t keep working minimum wage jobs, not when he has the capability to do more, so he begins applying for every single job in civil engineering within, well, everywhere. He has no limits. He has no attachments. He has nothing to keep him anywhere.

And when he gets an offer from a firm in New York City, he thinks that maybe a change of pace, a change of scenery really, will be good. He thinks that maybe he’s finally moving on for himself instead of in spite of himself and his circumstances. He can take the offer in London, the one in Galway, but New York simply seems to stick out, to make itself prominent.

It takes some time and a hell of a lot of paperwork, but eventually everything is settled for him to move. He decides to sell his furniture instead of paying for shipping, only packing up his clothes and his personal effects, and the moment his couch is taken away, he knows that he’s got a clean slate to work with.

He’s always loved a good clean slate.

New York is similar enough to London that once he becomes accustomed to its layout and its tendencies, he feels comfortable there. He may have been looking for a clean slate for himself, but comfort is important to him too. He hasn’t had a true home in the six years since Liam died, but he feels like this can be home.

His job is bloody fantastic. There are days when he hates it, when he comes home with a migraine that he feels throughout his entire body, but most days, most days it isn’t like that. Most days he gets to be a part of the team, he gets to design his own layouts, his own plans, and he wonders how he ever could have quit something that he understands so well, that he excels at, that makes him happy.

But he can’t change his past no matter how often he wishes he could. His life is his life, and even on the days where he wakes up with an ache in his heart so strong that he has to call out of work, he knows that he somehow has a good one. He has a life of which he’s proud.

“Oi, pay attention to the game, mate,” Robin scolds, nudging him in the shoulder so that his gaze falls away from the blonde who just walked in and moves back to the television screen over the shelves of alcohol. “We didn’t come here for you to ogle pretty women.”“Amen to that,” Will laughs, holding his glass in the air.

He rolls his eyes. He wasn’t ogling her. He simply happened to look in the direction of the door when she walked in. It is in no way his fault or in no way under his control that a beautiful woman and her friends walked in at that time.

“First of all,” he corrects, thumbing at the condensation on his glass, “I wasn’t ogling any woman. You both know I’m not interested in that right now. Secondly, we have cable at home. We could watch the game there, and there would be absolutely no women to speak of.”

“Which is a bloody shame considering the three of us are fantastic in both looks and personality.”

Robin snorts into his glass while Killian stifles his laugh in his shoulder. Will is a piece of work on most days, but he has his moments. Most of those moments happen when he’s sitting at home in the privacy of their flat (apartment, he’s learning to call it an apartment) and has a rare honest moment. But they do still happen. It’s refreshing to have mates again, to have people to talk to about his day or to watch an insane amount of football with. He likes it, and in the two years that he’s been in America, he’s really come to find it to be like his home.

Even if his two best friends are both from England and not native New Yorkers like everyone else he seems to meet. It’s that sense of comfort and all that makes him like them.

So they watch the match and drink their beer, letting their Thursday night go on as normal. Life is good, comfortable, and he enjoys doing things like this, even if the buffalo wings he’s eating are a bit messy and the tiniest bit too bland for him. The game ends, and they all go home, walking the few blocks back to their apartment and falling into a normal rhythm.

He likes his normal rhythm.

Which is probably the exact reason it gets disrupted three weeks later when he’s in the bar again waiting for Robin and Will to show up only for the blonde woman from before to be standing a barstool down ordering drinks for her group. Of course, she’s not the one who disrupts it. Not really. He does that all on his own.

By talking to her.

“I find that tequila is not something you want to be drinking at six on a Thursday.”

“Is that your version of a pick-up line?” she asks, raising a perfectly groomed eyebrow while she crosses her arms across her chest.

“Not at all,” he answers honestly, his gaze never falling away from her eyes. They’re green, and they’re beautiful. But he really has no business admiring her. He has no business admiring any woman. “I was simply suggesting a lighter drink, if only because I know from experience how you’ll feel at work tomorrow.”

“Well, bud,” she begins, and he knows he’s screwed up before she even says the rest of her words, “believe it or not, I know what alcohol I can handle without any of your precious help. It’s amazing that I have such knowledge all on my own, isn’t it?”

He holds his hands up, wishing he could take back his words. He didn’t intend to do that, didn’t intend to correct her or to think that she can’t make her own decisions, but that’s obviously what he’s done. He’s upset her, and that was the absolute last thing that he wanted. He’s just had far too many unfortunate experiences with tequila on a weeknight…and a weekend.

“I’m sorry, love. I – ”

“Nope, not your love. Just to make that clear.”

“I’m sorry then. Completely. It was not my intention at all to think that I knew better than you. I don’t.”

Her eyes slant into thin lines, her lips purse, and he almost feels as if she’s studying him, as if she’s trying to tell if he’s being sincere. He is. Completely. But he doesn’t think it really matters at this point.

“Thank you,” she finally sighs, her eyes opening from their slants, and he feels himself exhale, a weight that was on his shoulders lifting. “Just…enjoy your,” she waves at his rum, “piratey drink. Yo ho and a bottle of rum and all that.”He wants to protest, but he’s already put his foot in his mouth enough times for one conversation. He doesn’t plan on doing it again. He doesn’t even get the chance to because she gets her tray of drinks and carries them back to her table, never to talk to her again.

Two sightings are apparently not the charm, but who is he to think that he can charm a woman for more than one night?

His life goes on as normal. He wakes up, goes to the gym, goes to work, and comes home to sit on his ass and do nothing. He likes it. He doesn’t mind it. He wants it to continue, and even when his mates suggest maybe he should begin actually dating again, he chooses to ignore them. He’s fine. His life is fine. He’s happy without a woman, and he doesn’t need one to make him happy.

Having the companionship again would be nice, but he’s gone long enough without it to know that he doesn’t need it.

He’s in a crowded Starbucks outside of his office, a place he only really goes when he doesn’t have time to get lunch somewhere else, when a young boy runs into his legs and causes him to drop his sandwich, his steaming coffee nearly falling as well. Luckily, though, he avoids that disaster. For himself but mostly for the boy.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he sighs, squatting down so that he’s face-to-face with the lad who can’t be older than five, is probably younger than that, but he’s never spent much time around kids. It’s difficult to tell. “Are you alright there, lad?”

“Mommy. I want my mommy.”

Oh. Is he lost? It’s a pretty big shop and the boy is close to the ground, so he imagines that it’s possible.

“Okay,” he soothes, not entirely sure what to do, “we’ll find your mummy.” He’s not entirely sure how to go about it, but he figures that if he takes the lad to the counter, it’ll be easiest for his mum to spot him. So he takes his hand and guides him to the front, propping him up on the counter and explaining to the barista what’s happening. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Henry.”

Henry’s lips are quivering, his eyes are welling with tears, and Killian has absolutely no idea what to do other than to keep his hand holding his. “It’s okay, Henry. I’m going to find your mummy, okay? And then you can give her a big hug.” He leans over to the barista. “Do you guys have an intercom system because – ”

“Henry,” he hears a woman shout, her voice oddly familiar, and he whips his head around to see the blonde woman from the bar. Of course it’s her. But she doesn’t look calm this time, doesn’t look to be herself. Her eyes are frantic, her hair wild, and she’s running toward him until her arms are wrapped around Henry’s, whispering words into his ear that Killian can hear. “Oh thank God, baby. You’re okay, you’re okay. You know you’re not supposed to go anywhere without me. You’re always supposed to hold Momma’s hand.”

“I saw cookies,” Henry explains, shrugging his shoulders, and Killian can’t help his laugh. He wishes that he could have because that’s what gets the woman to look at him with the deadliest glare he’s ever seen.

“How are you here? Do you tell people what coffee they should order instead of letting them get what they want?”

“He helped me find you,” Henry tells his mum, his voice high and broken in kid speech.

“You did?” she asks, her face shifting into something much kinder. “You found him?”

He reaches up to scratch behind his ear, not really sure what to say. “Your lad found me, love. Ran straight into my legs and knocked my sandwich out my hands. He’s quite the little charmer, and I felt like the very least I could do was to bring him up here and get his name spoken over their intercom. I just didn’t expect, well, you.”

“Thank you,” she sighs, reaching her hand out to shake his. He takes it, feeling the warmth of her smooth palm against his. “Thank you so much. I don’t…I don’t know how he got away. It’s just crowded and insane and I promise I’m not the worst mom in the world. I also don’t know why I’m explaining this to you.”

“I don’t think you’re a bad mum, love. And it’s not my place to say anyways.”

“Emma. Emma Swan. That’s my name. just so you can stop calling me love.”

“Killian Jones. It’s nice to meet you again…Swan. And it’s been a pleasure talking to Henry. He couldn’t stop talking about you.”

It’s the truth, but it’s mostly because he was a scared kid missing his mum.

“Can I buy you your sandwich? Just to make up for you losing yours? And for, you know, helping me out? I can’t – I can’t really repay you.”

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad Henry is back with his family.”

“Really, Killian,” she sighs, her lips curling into a soft smile while she props Henry up on her hip. He’s getting a glimpse of her soft side. She’s scared him to death several times, but he can tell that she’s also soft, that she’s got dimensions like every human being. It’s just not something that he was expecting. “Let me buy you a sandwich. I’m going to get Henry a cookie even though he ran away from me.”So Emma Swan, mysterious woman that she is, buys him a sandwich and Henry a cookie. She’s a bail bondsperson, apparently, who leans more into the bounty hunter territory, and that’s why she’s often at O’Pry’s bar. It’s not for fun. It’s for work. Her son is four, not five, but he’s turning five next month as well as starting kindergarten, which he is extremely excited about if the way he speaks is any indication. The two of them are breaths of fresh air when all of New York smells awful, the heat bringing out the putrid smells, and for the fifteen minutes that he talks to them, he forgets about all of that and every other negative thing in his life.

He gives her his number on the off chance that she might want it. As far as he can tell she’s not married and Henry doesn’t mention his father, so he makes the assumption that it’s not wrong for him to offer a way for her to contact him. It’s a bold assumption, but he figures the third time is the charm. Emma doesn’t say no to it either. She simply takes the napkin he wrote it down on (he’s going old school) and puts it in her purse before they part ways.

She doesn’t call the first day, but she does send him a text ten days later.

Emma Swan: How do you feel about meeting me while I’m on a date with another man?

Her date turns out to be work, something called a honeytrap, and even though he’s not quite sure that he’s on a date, it may be one of the best dates he’s had in the entirety of his life. He’s always had a bit of a thing for powerful women who could likely kick his ass. There are a lot of wonderful things about women who don’t take shit, and if he’s ever met a woman who doesn’t take shit, it’s Emma.

He thinks spitfire isn’t a good enough to describe her, fierce too light, wonderful not encompassing enough. Really, he’s not sure how he should describe her. He’s not sure that he can. All that he knows after one night of watching her put a man in handcuffs and then eat three slices of pizza while rambling on and on about how much she loves The West Wing is that he likes her. He likes her and the crass sense of humor that she is, the way she can spit out the dirtiest joke he’s ever heard and then blush when he tells her something far less dirty. He likes that she obviously loves her son more than anything in the world, that she’d take a bullet for him without question. And he likes that at the end of the night, somewhere near two in the morning, she kisses his cheek, his lips soft and warm against his skin.

They don’t see each for a while after that, but they do become avid texters. He’s thirty-four years old, and he’s texting a woman he has a crush on like he’s a teenager.

Emma Swan: Did you know that birdwatches have seen over 275 species of birds in central park?

Killian Jones: I didn’t. Why do you know that?

Emma Swan: I’m at the park with Henry, and this woman next to me is telling me all about it.

Killian Jones: Well if you count you and Henry then that woman has seen at least 276 species because you’re both special Swans.

Emma Swan: That is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever read.

Killian Jones: You should read more. Or eat more cheese.

Emma Swan: You should come up with better ways to flatter a woman.

Killian Jones: That’s cute that you think I’m trying to flatter you.

It goes on like that for weeks, the texting and occasional phone call, and as summer fades into the depth of fall, he finds that he has a friend in Emma Swan. A friend who he likes and who his mates tease him about every time they catch him staring down at his phone with a smile on his face.

It’s like an endless cycle.

But a cycle that goes by one day at a time.

But they don’t see each other. They’re friends, and they don’t see each other, not even at the bar. It bothers him that she never asks. Then again, he doesn’t either. He doesn’t bring it up. He continues to torture himself by liking this woman who is likely stringing him along, which is the absolutely last thing that he needs. He knows better than to get attached to people who can leave him and break him again, and yet here he is doing that exact thing.

Sometimes he can’t help himself. He must be a glutton for punishment. It doesn’t matter. Heartbreak seems to find him regardless of what he does. He might as well dive into something that’s bringing him happiness for now.

Emma Swan: Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?

He nearly drops his phone on his desk. He nearly drops it into his salad and into his glass of water, which would be the ultimate disaster. For a moment he wonders if Henry has taken hold of Emma’s phone, but Henry’s at school. Henry also doesn’t have grammar or spelling skills like that. He’s five. So this is Emma. This has to be Emma.

Killian Jones: I’d love that.

So he meets Emma for dinner at her apartment, something she allows him into with that soft smile of hers that he’s missed, and he’s bombarded by Henry so much like the first time they met. Except this time he’s prepared for it. He’s prepared for the collision and for the excitement of the lad who can’t wait to tell him about everything he’s done at school. Sometimes Emma lets him talk to Henry when they chat, and Henry tells him about his day. But that’s rare. He can tell that she doesn’t want Henry to get attached. He can tell that she doesn’t want to get attached. It’s why she’s kept them separated, he believes.

It’s also why hope is filling every inch of him as they eat lasagna and talk, even after Henry goes to bed, protesting that he wants to stay up to talk to Killian. It was cute, but he knew that Henry was already up past his bedtime.

“So I’m going to talk, and I need you to listen, okay?” Emma begins, sitting down on the couch across from him and taking a sip of her wine.

“I can do that.”

“Good,” she smiles, though something seems off about it. And he recognizes it. It’s a smile of loss. Everyone who has lost something or someone shares it. “I like you. I think you know that I’m a pretty straight shooter. I don’t like skirting around things, so I like you. I’m just – I’m a mom. I’m a mom to a young kid who has a dad who screwed us both over. He left in the middle of the night when I was six months pregnant, and I haven’t heard from him since. I don’t want to. He doesn’t deserve a part in our loves. So my kid doesn’t have a dad, I’ve never had parents, and I don’t trust easily because of shit like that. But I like you, my kid likes you, and I feel like I know you well enough to try something. If you want to, of course. I guess this is all pretty pointless if you don’t want the same thing.”

“Oh I do,” he promises even as his heart breaks for her. “And I’m sorry about all of that. You don’t deserve the cards life has dealt you.”

She shrugs. “I get through it all one day at a time.”

And it’s her use of that phrase that has him spilling some of his dark secrets too, ones he hasn’t shared in years, and after it’s all said, he feels lighter, like someone else is carrying the weight of his burdens with him instead of him doing it alone.

When he leaves that night, Emma’s lips brush over his, and it’s the sweetest, softest thing he’s felt in a long time, if not ever.

He wants to do it again.

And he does. They start seeing each other pretty regularly, which mostly involves him staying out far too late so he can go on stakeouts with her on weeknights or waking up far too early on weekends so he can go to the park with she and Henry. Their schedules don’t match up in the slightest, but they manage to make it work. The two of them work well together, and he thinks that helps.

He knows that it helps.

Slowly but surely his one day at a time morphs into making plans days and weeks ahead, and he looks forward to more than just what he’s going to do tomorrow. He looks forward to going to work or spending time with his roommates afterwards, but mostly he looks forward to dates with Emma that can only take place after arranging a babysitter and work schedules, which is more difficult than he ever thought possible. He also looks forward to their dates where they don’t need a babysitter because Henry joins them to go to a museum or a hockey game, a large Rangers jersey draping his small frame.

When Emma tells him that she loves him for the first time when they’re going on a walk, Henry between them with a hand holding onto each of them, he nearly loses the strength in his legs hearing the words he’s known about Emma for months. He stops their walk to kiss her far too indecently for public, and when Henry tells them they’re gross, he wonders if his life can get any better.

It can. But it can also get worse.

There’s a fight, and it leaves him with his stomach in his throat and his heart somewhere in Queens likely getting stomped on by tourists who can’t find the seven train even though it’s right there. It’s all about trust. He knows that. They’ve had people screw them up for their entire lives, and who are two screwed up people to try to be together and work past all of those flaws? They’re crazy, obviously, and it’s why him running late one day to pick Henry up from his soccer practice triggered something in Emma that he never wanted to trigger. She was frantic and terrified that he was going to hurt Henry by not showing up enough, by not being there when he says that he’s going to be. He was just late is all. It wasn’t a big deal, but things escalated, words were said, and now he’s sitting in the darkness of his bedroom alone, the picture of he, Emma, and Henry that he keeps on his bedside table the only bit of light.

Light is light, but light can still be extinguished.

He hasn’t felt pain like this in a long damn time, and after a little bit of time, he doesn’t feel it anymore. He feels numb. He opened his heart up again, he let the shattered, sewed together pieces feel something, and he doesn’t know what to do now that the threads are loosening, well on their way to unraveling.

He spent so long learning how to grieve his losses, but it seems he’s forgotten how.

One day at a time he healed, and it seems the he strung enough days together for the pieces of his heart to become a part of something again.

He wonders if he can sew it back together this time or if something stronger will be needed.

For weeks he’s dulled, his senses and his wants. He doesn’t want to eat his regular meals or go on runs when he wakes up in the morning. Work doesn’t seem as rosy. Nothing does. All he wants is for Emma to talk to him, for them to work things out. He loves her. He loves them, and never in a million years would he abandon them. It was a mistake, a misstep really, and he’s trying to get back on track.

She finally calls on a rainy day in April, the water covering every inch of concrete in the concrete jungle, and it’s to tell him that Henry has a play at school. He doesn’t have any lines. He’s just dressing up as the green crayon, and since Henry knows that Killian’s favorite color is green, he wants him to be there.

So he is.

He sits next to Emma in the audience, and they exchange only the barest of pleasantries. In the middle of a kindergarten play is likely not the right time to try to work out decades worth of emotional problems, but if a dog and a green crayon can get along, he thinks that they can work this out.

This play is an olive branch, and once again, he allows a little bit of hope back into himself.

“I’d never leave you, you know.”

It’s not a question. He phrases it that way on purpose.

“Neal said that too, and he did.”

“I’m not Neal.”

“I know, and I think that’s what scares me most of all.”

“Emma.”

“You’re not him. You’re so much better. Scum of the earth like him, well, I don’t want him in my life, but if a crappy guy like him isn’t going to stay with me and with Henry, why would someone as wonderful as you stay?”

He shrugs, but it’s not because he doesn’t know. It’s because he doesn’t know the words to describe it to Emma, just like she’s never known the words to describe her.

“Because I love you, and I love that green crayon up there. I’ve been left so many times, Swan. You know this. I’ve been left, and it messed me up. But it also taught me to fight for the things and for the people I can hold onto. You and Henry are the people who make me excited to live my life more than just one day at a time, and I want to be with you two for as long as I’m able.”

For forever, he thinks.

“And you don’t hate me for being crazy?” she asks timidly, her words whispered quietly enough that he wonders if even she heard them.

“I understand you, Emma. You’re not crazy. You’ve been so open with me from the beginning, and I knew all of this going in. You got spooked. It’s natural.”

He wishes that it hadn’t happened, but he understands. He’s always understood. They’ve always understood each other.

“I’m sorry.”

“I am too.”

“I still love you, you know.”

It’s not a question. He thinks she phrases it that way on purpose.

“I’ll always love you.”

So one day at a time starts again with the two of them. It’s what’s always worked for them both, but as the story goes, one day turns to two and two turns into three. And eventually one day at a time because a promise of forever through documents and two different court dates, one to marry Emma, another to adopt Henry as his own.

A family of one becomes a family of two. A family of two becomes a family of three. And eventually, a family of three becomes a family of four.

It’s another cycle, really. The family he lost can’t be replaced. He wouldn’t want them to be. It’s just that, well, one day at a time, without him every truly realizing it, he found a family for himself that mended the broken pieces of his heart by adding theirs to his and creating something entirely new together.

And like every lesson in his life, he doesn’t always get the message straight away. Sometimes it takes some trial and error. But eventually he learns that one day at a time doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can actually be a damn good thing.

Because he savors the life he’s built and the love he’s found.

One day at a time.

Rant and Rave (Alana X MC)

A/N: Heya! So here is my first ever fic for Alana and Kari. I wasn’t sure about it when it wrote it because I thought the idea was a little weird but I think it turned out to okay. Was gonna be NSFW but then I decided to focus on emotions and first feeling and tensions. Hope it’s good but I’ll definitely have a better one out eventually.

Warning: T (slight innuendo and swearing - also include some sensitive topics)

PERMA TAG LIST: @brightpinkpeppercorn @cocomaxley @hopefulmoonobject@alesana45 @jellybean-marshmellow@mymandrake @regrettingnathan @dobie2112 @princesstopgun @mechaspirit @skyila @mind-reader1  @xo-endlessmayhem-xo @sakaily @justboredtrash @regina-and-happiness @flyawayblue56 @annekebbphotography @endlessly-searching-for-you @reginasayeed @christopher-powell @zigortega4life @eileendannie @diamondoasis @speedyoperarascalparty @liam-rhys @emomoustache @alekai-sayeed @akrenich @vickypoo91 @lostlightningbug

This fic: @kamilahsayood @endlesstaylormckenzie@nitta-jaeguet @hayden-park  @kamilahtrash @boneandfur @h-doodles @llancellott

Let me know if you wanna be tagged! 💗and let me know if the tags work because Tumblr is acting up.

Masterlist

Kari can feel the stress rising from her abdomen to her heart and she can’t help but paint a million pictures of a tortured Damien in her mind, imagining how pained and alone he must feel right now, isolated in an iron cell and constantly provoked by the manipulative games that Eros create for him. All his worries dragged through him as he hopes and prays that all of us are okay and preparing to rescue him.

What Kari can’t understand is why it’s taking so long. They should have found him by now. Maybe he’s starting to lose hope that they’ll ever get to him and that’s the last thing that Kari wants. It’s the last thing any of them want, well maybe besides Alana.

Alana showed up out of the blue and things seemed to be going nowhere until she decided to help. Lately, they’ve been getting closer, finally catching at least one lead that may lure them closer to Damien. There are simpler ways but no way in hell is Kari accepting Cecile’s deal. She vowed to save Damien and she won’t quit until he’s back by her side. 

Right now, Kari can’t take it. While the night roars on, she slipped out of the hotel room where they’re staying in Tokyo and ventured to the nearest bar, which has become her only escape lately. She almost can hear Damien’s stern voice scolding her in her own head every time she sips from a shot. He’d be telling her to stop drowning in a drink and start composing herself. Hell... he’d tell to just forget about him the right way and she hates that he’d say that.

Shot after shot. Drink after drink. Bottle after bottle. But she still isn’t drunk. There’s an endless amount of stress writhing within Kari and not even a million drinks could make that melt away. Only finding Damien. That’s the only thing that would help. 

Kari can feel her mind spinning with questions, wonders and regrets, as she contemplates everything she should have said to Damien. To everyone in her life really. The things she doesn’t have the guts to say. Even Alana. Kari can’t even bring herself to say a simple ‘thank you’ to Alana and she can’t even explain why.

Sitting propped on a stool by the bar, Kari can feel shivers running down her spine over and over again, as a clear image of Alana Kusuma enters her mind. Why is it so clear? It should be blurry like everyone else in her life. No. Alana is clear, easy to see but so hard to figure out. 

She’s different to anyone else that Kari has ever met and certainly one of the craziest. So crazy but in the damn best way. Probably the sexiest woman to ever grace this earth as well. Everything about her. The way she struts, saunters and storms. The way she speaks in that low, teasing tone. The way her ombré hair dances in the wind as she wanders away. The way her hazel eyes sparkle with an intensity only ever suited for her. Kari can’t describe the woman enough because there are too many words to use.

Such a badass. That’s what Alana is. A straight up badass.

Hold up. Why is Kari even thinking about this? This is Alana we’re talking about. Damien’s ex-partner, in both ways. A woman way out of Kari’s league. Of course, Alana would never go for someone like Kari. She’s mellow, vanilla, not ready to deal with someone on such a level as Alana Kusuma. Who could? Exactly. No one. She’s fucking perfect. 

Kari quickly shoves all those thoughts to the back of her mind and takes a long sip of the vodka in her hand, before slamming it back on the surface of the bar. She’s had enough of all this conspiracy. She just wants her friends back and then she wants it to be over. She never thought she’d say this but... she wants to be normal again. 

“Well, well, well. Thought I’d find you here.” A voice suddenly calls out to Kari and she can feel herself shaking at the lustful impact that circles the tone of that certain voice, immediately giving the identity of the owner away. 

Kari barely tilts her head and that’s enough to catch sight of a mischievous glint that naturally brightens Alana Kusuma’s eyes. It’s a look impossible to mistake and it’s what makes her so damn addictive. 

Rolling her eyes, Kari swerves around on her stool, tensing up at Alana’s irresistible exterior. Her ombré hair appears even brighter within the light that looms from the ceiling. Her hazel eyes narrow with curiosity and she scanning Kari in an eager manor, darting back and forth occasionally. She’s dressed in a red halter top and a pair of tight, black skinny jeans that cling to her skin and highlight her every curve. Kari licks her lips, trying to make it come across as a constant habit instead of a sign of hunger.

Alana forms an intrigued smirk, folding her arms rather casually. “What happened to your voice? Is it all the alcohol?” She suggests, gesturing towards all the empty shots scattered on the surface of the bar around Kari, who has now snapped out of her trance.

For a moment, she’s dazed and is unsure what to say. “I’m not trying to get drunk. I’m... stress-drinking.” Kari pulls out her worst excuse and Alana just rolls her eyes in response, sauntering over to Kari as her hips sway with the music that plays in the background, becoming a distant memory by the time Alana reaches Kari.

A sudden look of concern crosses Alana’s face, replacing all the mischief and confidence that smirk of hers brought to the atmosphere before. Now her expression is full of worry... genuine concern. Alana almost instinctively places her hand on Kari’s shaking shoulder, stroking ever so slightly on the soft skin as goosebumps gradually rise in reaction.

“We all miss Damien, Kari.” Alana points out, as Kari closes her eyes and releases a heavy sigh, immediately feeling ashamed and ridiculous.

“...I know. I just had to get outta there.” Kari admits, taking another deep sip out of the bottle she clutches firmly in her hand.

Alana scoffs that her insinuation. “What? Why? We’re actually getting somewhere. Isn’t that what you wanted? Thought you were the one who had all the hope and determination needed to find Damien.” Alana states as bluntly as possible, even though she tries so hard to be reassuring. Turns out, she isn’t really good at it. 

Kari drops her flask and hides her face in her hands, completely avoiding eye contact with Alana, knowing a mockery might be made of her. “Yeah... right. That’s what I’m supposed to be. That’s what I told myself I would be. But what have I done since Damien left? Just passed around some shitty reassurance.” Kari snaps, clearly at herself but Alana is still unexpectedly impacted by a slight ounce of hurt.

Alana arches her eyebrows, moving her hand further up Kari’s arm, causing her to flinch and tilt her head in a frustrated manor. “What the hell are you saying any of that for? You’ve done more for Damien than anyone else in this damn super squad of yours. And you sure as hell have done more for everyone else. The reason anyone is even trying to save Damien... is because of you.” Alana assures, quickly positioning herself on the bar stool beside Kari and rubbing her shoulder, a lot closer than she’d usually choose to be but today is different than any usual day. 

Kari can’t help but form a weak smile, no matter how strong her frustration is. She raises an eyebrow at Alana, who has an unnaturally genuine look on her face - one no one has ever seen before. Maybe not even Damien. It’s strange to think about how close Kari and Alana could become and perhaps they’re already halfway there. Kari has never felt more drawn to someone like the way she does with Alana. It’s crazy to think such a mad idea would ever become a reality but here they are and now Kari may never wanna let go.

“Are you serious? I don’t know why the hell Damien let go of you. You’re not as awful as he described you.” Kari jokes, trying to lighten the mood and break the icy silence, which is successful since she earns a light laugh from Alana, which doesn’t come out as a devious chuckle like usual. 

“Because he’s an idiot.” Alana returns, flipping her hair behind her and smirking mischievously and Kari can feel a slight blush creeping up her cheeks. “But that idiot needs saving and don’t worry... we’re gonna get him out of whatever hellhole Eros is keeping him in.” 

Kari’s smile widens and she finally feels a form of hope. “Really?” 

Alana grins back, her fingers crawling over Kari’s shoulder and her nails graze the pale skin of Kari’s neck, causing shivers to shoot like missiles up and down her spine, awakening feelings in her that she’d felt before - especially around Alana of all people. 

“Really.” 

Alana leans in closer, her hand drifting to run through Kari’s silver hair, tangling her fingers between the strands. Kari parts her lips slightly and snakes her hand over Alana’s arm that rests on the surface of the bar. Nothing has ever felt this anticipated before, at least for Kari. There’s never been so much energy or tension dragged into one specific moment. Who knew the world would waste so much on people like them? Those who have been to hell and back. Those who have fought and never stopped fighting because of what they believe in. Saving those who sacrifice. 

Well, Kari might as well enjoy the simple, almost normal moment the world has gifted to her. Something far from normal however. Alana Kusuma. A chance to fulfill what seemed like an impossible fantasy and Kari doesn’t plan to take for granted. Alana leans in further until her breath is heavily hovering over Kari’s plump lips. It almost feels like she’s going in for a kiss until...

“Woah...” A fascinated voice echoes in the distance but still loud enough to break the moment and force Alana and Kari apart. The moment of reassurance has faded away, ruined by such an insistent tone. 

The designation of the voice seems to exist behind Kari and she swerves around on her stool, still slightly dazed from the impact of the tension she’d just experienced as she retrieves her flask from the edge of the bar - taking a long swig as an attempt to calm herself down and this seems like the best solution to soothe her and help her compose herself. All her mixed emotions are out of control right now and she can’t sustain a steady conscience. 

Alana just raises an eyebrow mockingly at the owner of the voice who interrupted, a complete stranger as drunk as the days go on. Slightly older, middle-aged as a best guess. Tall, around six-foot. Intimidating... maybe but that ridiculous smile only makes him come across as creepy and condescending. Lord knows they’re in for a right nightmare. 

He seems so fascinated by Kari, scanning her exterior a little too intriguingly. Alana acts on instinct and scowls, barely able to stay put in her seat instead of completely murdering the drunk maniac ogling Kari like she’s an object for him to purchase. Alana isn’t jealous, just sees it as disgusting behaviour. 

Kari eyes the man strangely, starting to feel slightly uneasy and she knows it isn’t just the alcohol but the intimidation bouncing off the man, who’s presence seems to have caused nausea to rise within both Kari and Alana. 

“Can I help you?” Kari asks, only then does she realise how close the man had gotten. Hearing that request, he squats down so he’s on level with Kari, who remains seated in her stool and that’s when she wants nothing more than to escape this dreaded situation. Alana just watches with narrowed eyes, complete caution lurking within the hazel shade.

The man’s devious smile widens and he’s holding a half-full beer in his hand, while the other eagerly crosses the bar. “Damn... aren’t you a treat?” He inappropriately points out, no wariness in his to whatsoever, symbolising that he has absolutely no regrets for saying that out loud.

Kari is immediately taken aback, as she sucks in a sharp breath. “What...” 

“I’m just sayin’ you’re easy on the eyes. A fuckable girl if I’ve ever seen one.” The man adds, winking at Kari and that only means he’s asking for a slap in his face and that’s when his intentions become undeniably clear.

Kari narrows her eyes suspiciously, as she attempts to sustain a calm manor. “Sorry. Not interested in becoming your play mate.” She clarifies, her scowl deepening and close to becoming a glare. Kari truly can’t believe she’s going through this right now but she chooses to see this situation as a dumbass drunk guy unaware of what he’s actually doing. 

“Oh come on, babe... I can guarantee a good night.” The man brings out the empty promise and an uncomfortable eyebrow raise which almost causes Kari to vomit within her mouth.

“Nope... I’m gay, anyway.” Kari denies it again, sipping out of the bottle in her hand and barely holding back the need to spit it in his face but she resists, expecting him to accept his failure and disappear now.

The man just laughs, so many uneven cracks in his voice. So many bad signs. “That ain’t a problem. Bring your friend too... and I’ll watch.” 

Now that comment was too damn far.

Kari cringes uncontrollably, nausea reaching her throat and threatening to escape from her mouth. Shes pretty sure half of it is the alcohol. “God no. Get outta here you creep! You’re drunk and disgusting and you better fucking leave now before I punch you off the face of this earth!” Kari snaps, an intense anger lingering in her eyes. Her feisty comments didn’t come off like threats to the man. No... but they’re played off as a turn on.

“Damn, that was hot. Maybe we don’t have to wait to get to my place...” The man trails off when his hungry gaze lands on Alana, who is death glaring him like she’s going to kill him, burning a hole in his skull. “...trust me, both of you are gonna get something great tonight.”

The man lets out a pleasured whistle and marches over to Alana, smirking at her teasingly. “And you might just get the better treatment, hun.”

With that, Alana has heard enough. Acting on pure instinct, her temper breaks and she yanks the man by his ear and twists it relentlessly in her grasp, causing him to gasp out in pain. Alana snarls with zero regret, eyeing the creep with complete disrespect - nothing but endless threats looming over her mind as her deadly glare burns bullet holes through the stranger.

“You ain’t gonna find the one night stand you want here, asshole.” Alana whispers so intensely that it actually frightens the man, causing him to stagger back as he attempts to escape her firm grip but she reacts by slapping him straight in the face, regaining his attention. “Drinks ain’t gonna give you the fuel you need to flirt and you sure as hell have no right to harass someone I care about.” She adds, a threatening tension building and she finishes off her statement by punching him square in the face once more.

Alana just admires her handy work, smirking deviously at what she’d done and she has the right to be proud. This guy is a complete jerk. Unable to resist, she punches him in the face a few more times, resulting with a black eye and a bruise on his left cheek. One more punch and his lip is left bleeding. With that, Alana’s smile widens and shoves the man away, dropping his ear and waving at him as he staggered back, trembling.

“You’re one scary bitch,” is all he manages to say before stumbling out of the bar and causing the entire audience in the bar to erupt into applause but it doesn’t mean anything to Alana. She just rolls her eyes and escapes the bar, grabbing Kari by the wrist, despite her being shaken and stunned, and leading the silver-haired girl out the bar. 

At first, Kari is confused as they wander out, wondering why Alana even did that. In some way, it’s understandable. That man was an asshole, a tool, who had no right to harass women the way he did just now. Who would believe that in this day and age someone was still capable of acting like that? It’s disgusting and Alana couldn’t just stand around and watch someone she cares about a little too much go through that. A sickening sight, it truly was and Alana is proud that she stepped in. One of her best performances, really. 

This has been one hell of a night and Alana doesn’t plan for it to stop there. Kari wants an escape from thinking about all the chaos with finding Damien and Alana will sure as hell find a way to distract Kari. It’s now or never and who knows if Kari even feels the same way? But with her current state of mind, her choices may be limited. 

With that, Alana acts on instinct once again and leads Kari into a nearby alleyway that exits further down the street where the bar is built. At first, Kari is confused, wondering why they would ever venture into an empty, deserted alleyway at this time of night when there’s nobody around and they’ve been through a pretty tough situation tonight. Something nobody should ever have to go through but they did. 

Kari struggles to get used to their new surroundings, curiously raising her eyebrows at Alana, who is just standing there with her hazel eyes admiring Kari’s stunning exterior, sighing at each perfectly placed curve. It all belongs to her. Why is Alana even feeling this way now? She shouldn’t be but she is. Is she drunk? Hell no. Is she stupid? Probably. But she can’t help it and she’s never shied away from anything in her goddamn life and she ain’t about to start now.

“I’m sorry about what that guy did to you.” Alana apologises almost as if it was her fault, which it most definitely wasn’t.

Kari’s eyebrows collide with concern and she avoids eye contact with Alana, sighing hesitantly. “I don’t wanna talk about that. He was a jerk and his intentions were awful. That’s the bottom line.” She clarifies, folding her arms as if to stop herself from shivering in the crispy cold that lurks within the alleyway.

Silence. It erupts ever so suddenly, infecting the thoughts of Alana and Kari and leading them in for deep contemplation. It doesn’t last long however, as Alana has already decided what she wants to do. What she needs to do.

Alana cautiously steps closer to Kari, the corner of her mouth curving up a little. Kari furrows her brows in a questioning manor, clearly bewildered.

“Alana, why are you looking at me like—“

Before Kari can even dare to get her words out, Alana rushes towards her and cups her cheek, dragging their lips together and immediately melting into an easily flowing rhythm of glorious kisses that fulfil any fantasy Alana had experienced when picturing what this moment would look like. It’s exactly like she imagined and maybe even better. 

Everything is so fucking perfect.

The taste of Kari’s plump lips. Sweet and sour but in the best way possible, with a lingering scent of raw alcohol from all the stress-relieving. The feeling of Kari’s body, as Alana’s hands snake around her waste and roam further to explore her petite figure. Everything is exactly the right place and nothing feels wrong. It’s all so right and Alana doesn’t know why she’s waited this long to act out on this impulse. What the hell was holding her back? 

Kari remains startled at first before soon enough melting into the kiss and matching Alana’s level of urgency and passion. She’s never experienced such insistence like this before. Something so forceful and without choice. She cups Alana’s cheek and tilts her head, causing her lips to part slightly and allowing Kari to slip her tongue into Alana’s mouth, allowing her own to do the same. This adds more fuel to the fire burning inside of both of them. Their hearts electrify with an intensity never before felt by such warriors.

This moment is like a survival instinct. It needs to be done even if someone is afraid.

Alana throws even more caution to the wind and slams Kari back against the crumbling, brick wall, causing her to moan slightly at the impact and she begins running her hands through the tousled strands of Alana’s ombré hair. The tension only intensifies. The heat only rises. The want continues to build until it can’t be ignored.

Kari pulls away for a mere second to catch her breath and in that moment, she can’t help but let out a light laugh, causing Alana to wake up from the moment herself and raise her eyebrows at Kari questioningly.

“Why the hell are you laughing?” Alana asks in a quiet tone, keeping their faces close.

Kari continues to giggle ever so quietly, in complete disbelief. “I don’t know... did that really just happen? Did I just kiss Alana Kusuma?” She questions, almost to herself and her laughter increases slightly.

Alana just smirks at the reaction, taking this as an opportunity to break Kari’s laughter and silence her with another lingering kiss, built with just as much fire and passion as before but it’s slightly softer. More tender, if you will. More meaningful, carrying a little more emotion instead of instinct.

“You better believe it, baby.” Alana whispers in a sexy, irresistible tone. “And trust me... you are gonna get distracted tonight.  

Captain Swan is my Favorite RomCom: “While You Were Sleeping” (Part Five)

So here’s the next installment, I think we’re down to just about two more, unless something changes. Hope you enjoy!!

While the little misunderstanding has complicated Emma’s life and made her feel all kinds of guilty, she can’t quite want things back the way they were either...

And I apologize now, I know this has no cut line, but I just can’t get it to work for me on mobile. I’ll try to do a morning reboot form my desktop with the cut!

Part Five

By: @snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

The morning after taking Emma to dinner at his folks’ and their near-silent drive back into the city, dawned chilly but bright; though Killian Jones woke to it groggy and angry with himself in the rented hotel room he’d booked in order to be in the city - nearer to the hospital for his brother and the various appointments he needed to attend while in Boston. He knew he had pushed Liam’s fiancé out of her comfort zone - despite his initial good intentions - and he had been beating himself up for the overstep ever since realization hit, mere moments too late.

Stumbling over the nondescript carpet, hand rubbing blearily over his face and his unshaven chin as he made his way to get his morning’s first cup of coffee, Killian kicked himself once more, berating his impatient prying. ‘So what if she has secrets?’ he scolded himself again. ‘Everyone does. You certainly have a few yourself. Just because she wouldn’t tell you her whole life story after knowing you less than 24 hours does not mean she’s hiding things from Liam - or that she has anything serious to hide at all.’

Cursing himself for a fool, and then literally cursing in pain as he clumsily managed both to burn his finger with the tiny complimentary coffee maker and spill the precious brew in the suite bathroom, Killian knew what the issue really came down to. He was disappointed, saddened, struck once again by his own bad luck - the sheer indisputable fact that he didn’t deserve good things, the things he wished for most. Of course Liam would meet the ray of sunshine that was Emma Swan first; he was everything that Killian wasn’t. Ever since they had been in prep school with his citizenship awards and class offices, Liam had been successful, admirable, well-liked...perfect, for all intents and purposes. Though he would never lord it over his five years younger brother, reaching adulthood had not done much at all to bring Killian out of Liam’s impressive shadow. He was successful in his work, even generating surplus for charitable giving, had made a good name for himself in the business world, drawing new customers even as he retained his ethics and honor, had a large, well-situated apartment and nice car, dressed well, and still retained his decent heart and character. What woman wouldn’t choose Liam Jones as a fine man to marry?

Killian sighed, running a frustrated hand through his sleep-disheveled hair and this time managing to pour his coffee into a nondescript white hotel mug - oddly missing his own chipped mug with the jaunty silver anchor on it that Nick had gifted him last Christmas. Not that he was a bad guy or a poor catch, but he certainly looked less promising on paper. He didn’t bring in the paycheck Liam did, nor did he carry the type of prestige his brother had earned. He was more of a jack-of-all trades who had turned his passionate interest in boats and sailing into a modest living at best. Though he well knew he would make a devoted, loving mate for the right woman, she would need to share his love of the sea and adventure, his family, and his simple, uncluttered lifestyle. He didn’t require the material trappings Liam could offer a woman, and if his brother had won Emma Swan’s heart, then Killian knew that he couldn’t truly compete.

And yet...something about her spoke to him, whispered that they could understand each other in a way most would not. He had been to her apartment - and though it had been clean and comfortable, it was nothing fancy. He might have even deemed it sparse, if it weren’t for the unique, cozy touches he had noted scattered throughout her living space: a hand-knit woolen blanket with her name woven in purple draped over the couch, not only a purring pet cat, but adorable personalized dishes for the clearly spoiled creature in pride of place on the very table across from the spot Emma clearly occupied at meals herself. Though he couldn’t pretend to known her whole life story, he sensed a woman with simpler tastes similar to his own - more interested in people and connection, items of sentimental value more than material worth; a kindred spirit more interested in experience than routine complacency.

Hanging his head, Killian sipped his caffeine Black, berating himself for wanting his brother’s fiancé – however briefly – before he shoved the thoughts far into the recesses of his mind, for thinking recklessly that he could make her happier, that he could read Emma Swan like an open book. Wincing at the sharp, strong flavor of the unsweetened beverage, still rather warm and burning his tongue a bit, Killian couldn’t help feeling as though he had earned the slight pain to the roof and sides of his mouth for his disloyal and traitorous thoughts, for his ever-cursed and unlucky timing and desires making him feel as though he had finally met the woman who could complete him and make him smile as he had ever seen his mother do for his father his whole life long.

Finishing the cereal and sausage link he had gotten from room service for breakfast, Killian tried to shake lingering romantic thoughts about Emma Swan from his tired brain. He had things to do, calls to make back to work to see that things were covered with his business and shop while he was here awaiting any changes or news on Liam’s medical progress, and errands to run before he was to have lunch with his father. It would do him no good to dwell on the fact that Liam had been incredibly devoted to his college sweetheart - a brilliant lass named Belle French, a PhD candidate currently abroad studying and lecturing upon ancient texts in Brittany - until a painful falling out they’d had a scant five months before over their future and settling down. Though Killian hadn’t heard as much from his older brother, he had always felt that Liam and Belle would find their way back to each other. Perhaps that was why this seemingly sudden engagement to Emma Swan, whom none of the family had even met until two days ago, didn’t quite add up. Of course, Killian also knew that could very well be his own foolish and impulsive heart influencing his thinking.

At any rate, as he gathered his keys and coat and made his way out of his hotel room, locking it behind him, he needed to focus on the rare chance to spend some quality time with his dad, to talk seriously without interruption. Though David Jones had not outwardly fought or dismissed Killian’s decision a few years back, to start up his own business rather than continuing serious apprenticeship to take on the family farm someday, Killian knew there had to have been a part of his father who found it difficult for a second of his three sons to turn away from the livelihood he had worked hard to build, to provide for them all and hopefully hand down into their care. Just as with Liam - though surely his elder brother’s success must have helped to soothe the blow - Killian knew his choice must have hurt his father, which he had never wanted. It was why he had hesitated as long as he had before striking out on his own.

It couldn’t be fought however. Eventually, he’d had to be honest with himself, and with his dad. There was simply something about boats and the sea which called to him. Though it had not been easy the day he’d brought those concerns to his father; it had been a dry mouthed, hands sweating sort of moment in truth. Yet, Killian suspected, that the way the soil, working the earth and being outdoors in the open air amidst his sheep fed his father’s spirit, helped David Jones to understand his middle son’s yearning better than Killian could have hoped. Beyond that, very thankfully, Nick seemed to adore the family farm - even now as he was almost through trade school for animal husbandry and agribusiness management. Nothing seemed to thrill the youngest Jones brother more than being home on the farm during breaks and vacations, and he loved his father’s flock more than anyone but David himself ever had or would.

Reaching the ground floor, Killian passed through the hotel’s open lobby and made his way to the parking garage across the street where he had left his truck the previous night. It was time - for the moment at least - to leave his scattered thoughts and the fleeting warmth in his chest caused by his memories of the way light had glanced off the gold in Emma’s hair and the bright, unguarded sound of her laugh. He needed to see to his business and worry about his family, not nurse pipe dreams with no hope of coming true…

~~~~~~~~*********~~~~~~~~

By that evening at the end of her shift, Emma felt no less conflicted over the secrets she was keeping, the things she had refrained from telling Liam’s family - and Killian in particular - and the convenient misunderstanding she had allowed to let stand; giving her the chance to experience what it felt like to have a whole, vibrant family for the first time, but also taking advantage of the Jones’ kindness shamefully. Equal warring parts of her had run back and forth in her brain all day as she took tokens and watched the trains fly back in and out of their station almost constantly. And despite the guilt she was suffering and the frustration with herself she felt for not correcting Nurse Ariel’s mistake immediately, before she’d known what she would be giving up, Emma found that as she clocked out for the night, there was still just one place her feet would carry her.

Stopping by her favorite street vendor for a quick bite to eat for supper, Emma was at the hospital and making her way up to Liam’s floor before she had even made up her mind to follow her gut. She waved to Ariel, who was on the phone at the nurses’ station and gave her a rather sheepish smile but still waved back enthusiastically, and then let herself into Liam’s room.

Upon entering, Emma felt her shoulders relax and a sense of relief coming over her, almost affirming that this was where she had needed to be. Perhaps it was the dim lighting in the room, the calm quiet where so much of her day had been full of bustling crowds and hectic noise, or maybe it was even that this man who had intrigued her for so long from afar - fiance or not - needed her in some way.

It was a double room, but as he had been two days ago, Liam was the only occupant presently. Even if unaware, he was very much alone, and Emma couldn’t stand that. She’d been all by herself for too much of her life; she wouldn’t leave another person in that painful solitude if she could make it otherwise. Settling in for the evening, she pulled the nearby chair right up beside his bed, sat down, and reached out to take his hand in hers.

Twining their fingers together, Emma gently squeezed Liam’s digits, whispering as she pulled his arm carefully over to press it against her chest while she began to speak. Bowing her head slightly, she whispered near him into the quiet room. “Liam? It’s your fiancé… Emma…” Though she had begun her statement with an almost sheepish laugh, as if he might wake up and appreciate the humor of the wacky situation with her, her words were cut off by the lump that rose in her throat which she had to swallow hard to speak around.

“Oh, who am I kidding?” she sighed, her eyes stinging with unwanted emotion as she looked down at the handsome man, peaceful and still as if merely sleeping. Where before she had always found herself wanting to wind her fingers through those stubbornly curling, close-cropped tufts of sandy hair, Emma suddenly pictured dark tendrils falling over his brother’s strong brow instead. This man - while he had intrigued her and drawn her in with his kind smiles and friendly greetings each week - she didn’t really know him; never had known him, truth be told. She merely wanted to brush an almost sisterly touch of fingertips across his cheek, hold his hand, and see him wake up - for the sake of his family who loved him dearly, for his own sake, as he didn’t deserve to be struck down so senselessly, and for hers, so she could explain what had happened and hope that - just maybe - he wouldn’t hate her and the rest of the Jones family wouldn’t either.

Finally giving into the urge, Emma laid her cool palm over his slightly warm forehead, wishing to bring him some comfort and to let him know he wasn’t alone before settling into her seat more comfortably, propping her chin on the fist of her free hand while the other still held his large one, rubbing gentle circles over the space between thumb and forefinger. “We both know I’m a complete stranger to you. I don’t know why I’m still pretending when you’re the only one here. You may think I’m the worst sort of person when you wake up, but it truly was a big misunderstanding. I didn’t know how to stop it at first, and then things just got out of hand. Your family…” she paused again, pressing her mouth into a thin line as she tried to bring the welling regret and longing under wraps, “they’re pretty wonderful really. You know that, right? I mean, they just took me in, and they’re so warm and funny. Even though my adoptive mom was great, she’s been gone a long time. It’s just been, well me and my cat,” a strangled little laugh escaped and she wiped a hand across her eyes, sniffling, “for years now. Like I was in the beginning…” She trailed off, shaking her head as the man she was speaking to remained motionless and unresponsive. “Sheesh, just listen to me,” she finally finished off, blowing out a breath and straightening slightly. “This must sound crazy!”

Turning to reach for her jacket and preparing to go, Emma touched Liam’s arm one last time, a parting squeeze of farewell. “Ever been so alone you’d spend the night confusing a man in a coma?” she asked self-deprecatingly. Then, she stood and leaned back down to press a light peck of a kiss to his hairline whispering, “Wake up soon, Liam.”

Then she was gone, slipping out of the room and soon the hospital without ever noticing Killian, who had arrived not long after her to check in on his brother. He had frozen in the doorway behind her, stunned into silence by the admission he’d overheard before he could announce his presence, and had just barely remembered to retreat down the hall far enough to escape detection when Emma had gathered her things to leave. Emerging after a moment, he stood dumbfounded in his brother’s doorway, conflicting emotions all swarming behind his eyes. “Bloody hell,” he murmured, running a hand over his face, “Now what are we supposed to do?”

Tagging: @csromcom18 @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kday426 @linda8084 @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @therooksshiningknight @resident-of-storybrooke @bcmbbcs4evr @coliferoncer @vvbooklady1256

If there was one girl you could have back who would it be? And why? Apart from your most recent ex because that would be obvious

Tumblr AnswerIt's a differcult one to answer. I've had many great relationships. Some lasted longer than others, but I dated these girls because they all had something in common. They each had a lovely and caring heart. They also each meant alot to me. I'd narrow it down from 4 of my main relationships. You guys remember Abi right? She helped me out when my followers chart went through the roof.Then there is Becca. We have alot of history and you're about to get a history lesson in a moment also.Then there is Ellie and Georgia.Georgia was my first love so I wish things could have happened differently.So I'm not going to talk about this separately. I'm going to go back to when I was 13 when me and Becca first dated.Then that led to Georgia, Georgia led to Abi and then Ellie came out of nowhere.So here is the story for your question.I'll make it as short as possible because otherwise this story would fill 300 pages easily.Becca and I went to the same primary school. So we knew of each other from the age of 6.I always had a little thing for her. My best friend Liam was living at there's for a few years with his mum. So I was there an awful lot. We turned 12 and 13. I was the older one. And we were speaking on Facebook, decided to meet up a few times. And decided to start dating. It snowed that year on her 13th birthday. I gave her a card with £5 because I'm classy like that. We went to Mcdonalds and held hands in a company of her two best friends. That relationship ended in about 3 weeks. It was petty. I think we might have kissed three times. I don't know hahaWe drifted. Again almost a year later the same thing happened. It was September. We were meeting up alot. We were at a friend's house, drinking cheap alcohol. And we kissed. We dated again for another 3 weeks just for it to come to another end. This time we actually snogged.We are now in 2009, September. I seen her in Mcdonalds and alot of memories came back to me. Regrets of leaving her ect.. I knew I didn't really deserve another chance but I chanced it anyway. We went out one night with friends. I was abit Drunk. Told her how I felt. Told her I'd remember it all in the morning. Which I did. So I repeated myself. We trialed for a short while. I played and sang whatcha say by Jason durulo and asked her out at the end of it. She said yes.Halloween we went to a party. I got way too pisses and told her about my self harming. A month or two went by and I broke up with her because I forseen my future and told her that she wouldn't want to be apart of that. My vision became true eventually. A year or two passed with us not being in contact again. I met a girl. The first girl I ever truly loved. Georgia. So I met Georgia in school. She was running around the yard with my friend, I instantly liked her.. We got talking. We met up alot. I Began to really like her. We held hands and I felt so fucking good. I loved her already. We kissed. It was amazing. I loved everything about that moment. I told her I had 5 words for you. Will you be my girlfriend. She said yes. I felt so fucking good. Now I was a horrible person in school. Always fighting. Never lost one, only ever been punched in the face 4" times, one of them times wasn't even in a fight. Just some drunk idiot, I let it slide, I have no time for that shit now. Off subject.... Anyway, she changed me for the better. My school suspensions lowered by 80%..i was sent home from school almost weekly. I had the record of most sent home, suspensions, in the school. It was bad. I had over 300 from when I first started high school. I was troubled with mental health they didn't understand. So we agreed that each week I behaved I'd be rewarded with a kit kat. Yeah maybe that sounds silly but it worked. It just a little fun on the side I guess.Then becca and I started talking again. As usual, coming up to Christmas our time of year. It was nice, we spent time together again. Nothing was going on. It came past Christmas, she spent new years with me and down my nanas.my nana wouldn't let us sleep in the same room even though nothing would have happened. I had alot of respect for this girl. She said to me don't leave me. I said I'd never leave you. My biggest promise I'd ever broken. Anyway.. The new year, the worst year of my life. I was turning 16.I started to gain feelings for becca again. Everything went tits up. Valentines day I was with Georgia, but wanted to be with becca. I had been planning to break up with Georgia for a week or two to go with becca. I got Georgia a teddy bear. She named it Jack. My heart snapped. I felt like crying and I felt so fucking terrible because I could tell she was starting to love me. My feelings were all over the place.Anyway we broke up. I instantly I knew it was thoughts over feelings. I made the biggest regret of my life there and then. I told becca I couldn't do it and I wanted Georgia. Probably guessed that me and becca fell out and stopped speaking again.Me and Georgia got back together. I told her I. Loved her. My birthday passed. I could tell she didn't want to be there. She broke up with me. I cried for weeks. I self harmed. It was all my fault. I was a total dick. I didn't cheat on her. Not once. But I did tell becca I had feelings for her. I then lost the first love of my life. And my best friend.Time went on as it does. September. I had a girlfriend. The first girl I had sex with who had broken up with me, I was instantly hurt. But Georgia was still on my mind. Always was. But then there was Abi. She held me in a forest when I was crying because of this break up with Molly. I always new Abi liked me. I can detect alot from. People and emotions and feelings are the easiest.Me and Abi became close friends after that. It snowed one day. The video snow day on my. Youtube is the day in question. Great day. I realised that day I liked Abi.We grew closer. We had a very intense week to our build up for our kiss. I knew exactly where I wanted to do it and how I wanted to do it, so I planned it out for about a week. And it was the best build up and first kiss I've ever had. It was something from a movie. Fabulous.We spent a lot of time together. Some of the best days of my life were with Abi. We got on really well. Knew each other really well. Put up with each others shit really well, sometimes.. However this was when I started to smoke weed alot of more than when I started which was not long after my break up with Georgia. One night we went camping with some friends of mine. We seen the stars. It was beautiful. I said some cheesy shit and she said she was ready.We contected a lot better after that night. We had alot of good times. Nice short adventures, watched some movies. Spoke alot on personal levels. And I fell in love again but I held back because of the hurt.Really Im finding it hard to love. I will find it hard to ever truly love again. I've given and sometimes wasted my energy and love on other people rarther than myself. Love isn't as strong or controlling to me as it once was before. And that really makes me sad.So I became un loyal to Abi as Georgia stepped back into my life and so did all the feelings I left behind. I told Georgia I loved her still. Which I did. But I had spoken to Georgia off and on constantly. But she wouldn't tell me that no we would not ever get together again. She left me feeling I had a chance. So I couldn't let go. Abi found out about this. But I could be wrong here but this I think happened on the second time me and Abi dated. We were off and on abit. I wasn't loyal in our break up either. It was in Facebook and she didn't know I broke up with her until a week later when I had to explain that our conversation last week was me breaking up with you. Yeah I felt like a twat, but I deserved it.Time went by. I was doing alot more drugs. My great nana died. Abi was there for me, my friend died the next day in a car crash. Wasn't a massive Friend. But someone I knew and got on with really well, seen quite often and even spoken to her on the phonea few hours before she died. Abi was great. No matter how many times I hurt her (not physically) she'd still be there for me. So thank you for that Abi.Come August me and becca were good friends again. Me and Abi were a little more distant now. Anyway that was a fun summer. Drug use, increased. I got in trouble and went away for two years. Becca and Abi were there for support the whole way through. Amazing people. We are still in contact now, and remain close and good friends.Georgia and I haven't spoken for a few years and I managed to get over her 4 years after our break up.Then Ellie. The last one. What it was about Ellie was that she was just an incredible person. Lovely, fun, we connected on many levels. Loved the same things, and she was always up for having a good time. We'd go on walks, climb things, drink, I had stopped doing drugs at this point for a good while. So I didn't participate in the weed smoking or anything more. But she was An all around great girl. Always honest and said it like it is. And we were very alike. So thats why she is here in the chart. Not a big story. But i wish it lasted longer and didn't end the way it did. We Still talk a little and always happy to see each other. We broke up because she had feelings for an ex. And I know how that feels and told her she needs time on her own to figure shit out. And ended on good terms anyway.So there are your four. There are more but I choose these because of the stories, how alike we all are on different levels. Also to how happy they made me feel. But becca was the biggest part in my life and in this story. But the long story would see differently and it would be Georgia. This is honestly as short as I can keep it.But the truth is, I wouldn't want any of them back. I wouldnt want to do it all over again. We broke up for a reason, and they are my exes for a reason. Without them and what we went through, I wouldnt be in the position I'm in now. Talking to all you lovely followers. Getting to know you all individually and helping you guys out. I wouldn't have the amazing friends I have today. I wouldn't have my characteristics I have, my loving heart. I'd be a different person and most times I like who I am. I'm glad what happened happened. Just maybe not in the circumstances they happened in. But everything happens for a reason. Not one of them would I want back in my life, besides the point two of them already are. But everything happens for a reason. But if if there was one I could do it all over again with, it would be Georgia.

The High School Game Part 16

Hi :D ! Here’s the next part of the story. I estimated 6 more parts after this one, and we should reach the end... I know, there still work to do :x But we’re going closer each time (obviously we are :x)

Liam DAY 118 Monday

"I'm getting fat. I'm sure you dislike me now."

Liam blushed. Jessy was depressing, because her check-up revealed she had gained 2 kg (4,4 pounds), reaching 65 kg (143 pounds). Stunned by this change, she was close to cry. The goalkeeper cuddled her softly.

"You're not fat, not at all my love. You're as beautiful as ever."

"You're saying this only to please me."

"No. I think you're cuter than ever, and I really, really like you. Trust me."

She sniffed and nodded. Please, you're starting to look cute. Don't give up now. He knew that one day, he would have to talk with her about his fetish. But not now. She was not fat. Not even a little.

"Well, I love you too, Liam. You're the nicest boy I ever met."

"Thanks Jess'."

She stood up and smiled.

"I'll let you know, I have to join Barbara for our presentation about passive hunger in America."

He blushed. This is ironic. She left him, and he stayed here, onto the bench, alone. Slowly, he put a hand on his tummy. He felt a little pudginess. Passive eating. Okay, Liam tried to fatten his girlfriend, but by the look of it, he fattened himself more than her. According to his own check-up, he gained 2 kg too, and it was not muscle. However, the nurse maintened it was perfectly normal. By the way, his stomach was flat. No abs, but not fat either. Just soft, enjoyable to rub. He was far away Sam's bulging potbelly. And anyway, Liam did not found Sam really fat. A little, at most. I have nothing to be worried about. And I need to concentrate on Jessy. Now he understood Kim was, despite having an handsome body, a pest, he had to focus on his girlfriend. (Yes, he fantasised about Kim, but the boys were always fantasised about several girls at once). Anyway, the bell rang, and he left the nurse's office to join the class.

This afternoon, during the break, Liam was pleasantly eating somes candies (yes, he knew he gained weight, but his willpower to control his gluttony was non-existent) when Sam and Shirley came to him. They broached him with rigor, like if they had an emergency.

"Liam, we need your help." started Shirley.

"At least your advice." added Sam.

The goalkeeper gulped his last candy and frowned, kinda surprised by this agitation.

"You know we're trying to fatten Gregory since the christmas holiday ?" asked Shirley. "Well, we failed."

What ? The supporting striker was eating like three men since Sam started to fatten him. He was constantly snacking donuts and drinking protein shake. Plus, he was taking two meals for lunch daily. How could he not gain weight ?

"He is doing too much exercise." explained Sam. "His metabolism is fast, and he know that. He only gained 1 kg this month, and there is barely a little pudge on his belly."

Liam blushed. (Pudge and bulge were the new words he could not faced, because he had some issues with several words like these). (Okay, for example, Liam always feared the word "explosion" but no detail). Anyway, he understood his friends matter, but why would he be helpful ?

"We know Gregory is training with Raphaël's brother. We though maybe if they stopped this workout, he would start to gain weight."

Thomas. They were thinking about Thomas. The goalkeeper blushed again. (No, Thomas is not a forbidden word, but his captain's little brother was a bit special).

"Can you give us some information about him ? Despite being Raphaël's ex-right arm, I never met him." asked Sam. “But you did, cuz you know their family for a while now.”

"Well... I can do better. I can ask him to stop train Gregory."

Shirley raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

"How would you do that ?"

"This is a secret. But Thomas is quite... special. He'll listen to me, no worries."

"Okay, we'll trust you so." agreed Sam.

Liam nodded. The idea excited his super-spy spirit. (Who never dreamed to be a super-spy ?). However, he knew this attitude was not in Raphaël's book of rules. (Liam was practically sure his friend was hiding a book with the rules of his game under his bed). I guess a little lie would not hurt... If he doesn't know, he will not try to exterminate me and my whole family. No kidding, his captain was likely able to do that. But Liam's 10 years old maturity loved risk. So, let's do this...

Shirley DAY 119 Thuesday

She gently fondled her boyfriend's belly. She was so excited. According to the monthly check-up, he gained 3 kg (6 pounds), which was not much, but good enough. The nurse started to worry about his case, and insited to talk about nutrition and exercise, but Shirley, as him, did not care. Sam was enjoying his new body. And she was enjoying it too.The tummy, round and soft, was the most of the fat. But she loved his ass and thights too, growing slowly. And what about this two man-boobs burgeonning ! It was so cute. They were walking towards Ms. Liliano's bakery, in order to brought some addictive donuts. And everything seemed perfect. She still had problems with her brother Dan, who had disappeared. She still had problems with Raphaël, Finn, Barbara (who watched her like a mother) and obviously Gregory. But she felt happy. At least until she heard a holler of pain coming from a dead-end. Sam glanced at her, and then headed towars the noise. She followed prudently, quite afraid. But she did not expected what she saw. Kim and Jessy were here, beating Kilian while laughing.

"Do you want more ?" asked spitefully Liam's girlfriend. "Are you still thinking you can stare at me and my love while we're doing private things now ?"

She kicked him in the ass, which led to a series of kick by Kim, who insulted him. Sam interfered in, and yelled :

"Are you fuckin' mad ?! Clear off !"

Jessy hesitated, but not Kim. She laughed and throw a stone which ended up on Kilian forehead. The boy shouted, and Shirley rushed towards him.

"I said : get the fuck out of here !" yelled Sam.

"Don't be mad." retorted Kim. "He got what he deserved. He is a fuckin' dick-lover, you know ?"

"And you're a fucking bitch ! You both are !" shouted Shirley, enraged. "Just leave us ! You will pay for this !"

She checked Kilian's body. He was hurt and bled a bit, but nothing too serious.

"What are you gonna do, princess ?" asked Kim.

At this moment, Shirley realised Jessy was gone. She fled away, like the cowards she always was.

"We'll warn the director." assured Sam. "And if you don't leave, I'll smash your face in, get it ?"

He was largely taller than her (she was 164 cm, or 5′5″) and bigger (she weighed 72 kg or 159 pounds) so she stepped back.

"I'm leaving. But I think you'll not tell anyone what happened, you know ? Because if you did, I will tell everybody Shirley did this. And because she is quite... violent, I'm rather convinced everybody will trust me."

And then, she fled while laughing.

For the second time in less than one week, she was in front of the De Beauchêne's door. And she felt even more scared than the last time. Kilian asked for her to bring him home without Sam, because his father and brothers would not accept another boy. So here she was, knocking and praying for meet Kilian's mother instead of his scaring father. Sadly, he opened the door. He was maybe taller than the previous time, and probably more impressive. Is that even possible ? He worn a fuckin apron covered with blood, and Shirley almost feinted when she glimpsed it.

"What happened to you ?" asked Mr. De Beauchêne with his booming voice.

"Nothing, dad. Nothing." replied soflty Kilian.

He was so tiny and skinny in comparison she thought his father would crush him with a cuddle. However, this one did not move. He just repeated :

"What happened to you ?"

"Dad please. Nothing I told ya."

"He had been bullied, like everyday." replied Shirley.

She did not know where she found enough guts to speak, but she did. The look Kilian gave her made her regret. Maybe his father would kill Kim and Jessy, now.

"I don't care about this." retorted Mr. De Beauchêne. "I wonder why you're bringing this girl at home, son."

"For nothing father... please, let her go."

Shirley felt in jeopardy. Kilian was scared, and she did not know what his father, this giant covered with blood, was able to do. She prudently stepped back and smiled.

"I think I'll let you. Mr. De Beauchêne, good bye."

He watched her walking away, and she felt safe only when she turned behind a wall, escaping from his eyes.

Gregory DAY 120 Wednesday

According to his regular doctor, he had got sick because of Kim's mixture, and it probably explained the fact he gained only 1 kg of muscle (2.2 pounds). Consequently, the young lad had reproached his friend for his bad result during the check-up. However, she just laughed, and told him that he also could return to his cockcroach's life. My fuckin' cockcroah's life, she said. He decided this whore deserved to paid. Like Jessy, Barbara, Shirley and Raphaël, he would find a plan for her, and humiliate her. But he had a problem. Kim was not afraid by an humiliation. She humiliated herself in order to ridicule the others. Make her pay in those circumstances was pretty hard. I need an idea. A good idea... Sat on a bench, thinking, Gregory watched his schoolmate, living their uninteresting lives in the schoolyard. This flock was his flock, and he probably could find an idea. What could be her weakness ? She doesn't care about her reputation, and she's not scared by the director. What can I do ? Suddenly, he had an brain-wave. Something Kim certainly wanted, like everybody else. Love. She was surely searching the love of her life. They all were. Maybe, maybe he could trap her. If she loves someone, and this guy just humiliate her in public... She would be ashamed...

"Hi Gregory." whispered a soft voice.

Surprised, he raised his head, and came across Shirley. This bitch. What the fuck she wants ? He did not answer. She was not welcome.

"I need your help." she continued. "Regarding Kim Sawyer, the new girl."

He frowned. Why I would help you when you're my worst ennemy ?

"We both know she is quite dangerous." Shirley argued. "And she don't care about Raphaël's game, she only will destroy everything she hates, including me and you."

"Why do you think she hates me ?"

"Keep your friends close, and your ennemies even closer, Greg. Our sweet captain was reading this, one morning. Kim hates everyone, but she knew you were more dangerous than we're. She needed your help to harm us. We need to react."

"Why now ?" he asked prudently.

"Because I understood how dangerous she was. Kim is not afraid of anything. Deep down, you know we have to make a pact in order to respond as fast as possible."

Well... I guess you're right... He already knew how to humiliate Kim and put her out of the game. But some help would be usefull, after all. He nodded.

"I've an idea." he explained. "To my opinion, she have only one weakness : love. She certainly love someone, and if this person reject her... she would be devastated and left the game for good."

"Wow... You're definitely good for evil plans. But how can we found her fantasy ? Usually, people demonstrate affection for the subject of their desires. Or hates, sometimes."

What ? Gregory opened his eyes wide. Hates.

"Well, good you asked for my help, because it will be useful to be two for this." he mysteriously whispered.

Because he knew who Kim loved since the her arrival.

Together, the two ennemies headed towards their target. Because it was just before gym class, he was warming up near to the terraces, in his sport outfit. Fortunately, he was alone : Liam and their friends were having fun in the snow a bit furhter. Gregory decided to talk first :

"Hey Raphaël. How are ya ?"

The captain glanced at him, then Shirley. Surprised ? Well, if it was surprised, he did not show it. His face stayed as emotionless as ever. On top of that, he did not answer, waiting for them to speak.

"We need your help." proclaimed Shirley. "I know, it's kinda weird because I kicked you in the balls and Gregory is trying to take your place, but, still, we need your help."

The fuck is she saying ? The dark-haired boy never told his captain about his ambition. However, Raphaël was not an idiot, and he probably already knew that. Focus on Kim... Shirley will pay later. By the way, the captain again did not answer. He was conscientiously warming up his legs, one after another.

"As you probably noticed, Kim is dangerous." said Gregory. "We both, Shirley and I, want to put her out of your game, in order to protect our schoolmates. But we need you to do this."

Raphaël glanced at him and smiled. A cold, frightening smile.

"Correction : in order to protect yourselves against Kim. And by the way, you can't put someone out of the game."

He stoop up and continued :

"You both are playing this game without the rules, and you think you're leading this while you only are part of this. At best, you can change Kim's attitude concerning the game, but that's all."

We don't care. Gregory hated this hautghty tone. He perfectly understood the game and the aim : get the power. The rules were simples : do anything you can in order to succeed.

"Are you going to help, or not ?" asked Shirley.

"Of course I'll." stated the captain, surprising both his conversation partner. "However, I remind you this will not be without consequences. Kim neutralised, the balance will incline towards another opponent."

"We don't care." retorted Gregory. "Let me explain to you our plan and..."

"I already know what you're planning." interrupted Raphaël. “But that’s stupid. We’re not all seeking for love.”

He headed towards Mr. Litman and smiled.

"Don't worry guys, I will deal with this."

Liam DAY 120 Thursday

The lad gulped before entering his his captain's home. He was afraid. (Boys don't admit their fears, but Liam do. He was afraid of being in the den of the mutant, yes). He had already come here before, but he was still scared to not getting out. Raphaël smiled.

"You know where is the kitchen. Help yourself, I'm just going for a shower and we can do this history presentation."

Liam nodded. He entered the kitchen, where Thomas was joyfully preparing his diner. In this home, both children were cooking for themselves, and their only parent either. Consequently, the two brothers always followed a strict diet, free to chose what to eat, while their mother devoured junkfood all day long. Liam smiled to Thomas. The 10th grade student was quite handsome. Shorther than his brother, he was 175 cm (5′9″), and weighted probably something like 67 kg (148 pounds). And, despite not being gay, Liam though he was handsome. (Like Raphaël, those mutants were two Adonis). Ginger with green eyes, he had a mystic beauty, his whole body just perfectly built. When he saw Liam, he smiled. A cheerfully smile, shining.

"Hi dude. How are you ?"

"Fine, thanks. Preparing the diner for after your workout routine with Gregory ?"

"Yeah. Do you wanna somethin' ?"

Liam nodded, and the young boy gave him a box full of pancake plus some nutella. Hum... (Nutella plus pancake was a mortal combination for Liam stomach : he always ate too much of it). (And by the way, it was weird to know Raphaël and Thomas had pancakes and nutella and never ate it).

"Thanks you so much." said the goalkeeper while he took one first mouthful.

Thomas had a contagious smile. Unlike his brother, he had a warm voice, soft.

"Gregory's probably waiting for me." stated the 10th grade student. "But if you need anything before Liam, I can stay."

"Yeah, I have a favor to ask you, indeed."

Liam swallowed another pancake and spread the next one. Thomas sat on a chair, and smiled again. Since the goalkeeper had become friend with Raphaël, he also had become friend with his brother. He's sweet and so cute. (Okay, this was one reason explaining why Liam blushed when thinking about Thomas. Despite being not gay, he was aroused by the young boy tone and attitude, and it was awkward). Calm down Liam, you're here for Sam and Shirley.

"Everything you want, Liam, you know I like you. You're a good boy"

It was even more awkward, but not surprising. Thomas had a penchant to consider everyone like his pets. At least while he was speaking. Anyway, his warm voice encouraged Liam to be at ease with everything (like devouring pancake after pancake with nutella).

"Well, it's about Gregory." he whispered, with his mouth full. "And it a bit weird, but... I would like to see him gain some weight, but he can't with all this training."

The 10th grade smiled.

"Are you planning to fatten him ? You know this is against the rules ?"

"Uh, maybe..."

"Don't worry, I'm not Raphaël. I kinda like this idea, Gregory being a douchebag who think he can replace my bro. I already have an idea... But big bro will not like this."

In this world, Thomas was probably the only one to fully understand Raphaël's game and rules. However, he never expressed interest for this stuff. He lived his own life, peacefully, enlightenning his schoolmate with his perfection.

"Anyway, I will deal with him." he eventually stated. "Are you taking this last pancake ?"

To be continued

Shirley and Gregory started an alliance... Let’s see where it will lead them ! However, the girl priority should obviously be Kilian... As for Liam, let’s hope he’ll stay in his magical world a little longer :D

violent delights • theo raeken

RATING: TEEN PARING: THEO / READER WARNING(S): LIGHT TO MODERATE USE OF PROFANITY, LIGHT VIOLENCE. SUMMARY: every violent delight must have a story behind it. ••• Y/N was beautiful, she was smart, strong, and a complete representation of everything that was divine and good in the world. She had soft lips and kind eyes, a world filled with evil, and she could only ever see the good. Even in the case of Theo Raeken. Theo Raeken was broken down, dark, narcissistic and kind of an asshole. Even he couldn't deny it. But he could never deny Y/N, she had taken over him completely, everything he felt or saw, was a reminder of her in some way. But he could only ever be reminded of her when seeing the lighter side of things. But when looking at the dark side, he was reminded that one day he would lose her. Theo Raeken had knocked politely on Y/N's door when he picked her up for a dinner date one particular evening. Wearing clean black jeans and a button down shirt, he cleaned up nicely for a boy with a dirty reputation. "Good evening, Y/N," he smiled, handing her a small bouquet of roses. She blushed, and took them, "Good evening to you as well, Theo." Theo was invited into the home, following the girl into the kitchen while she found a small vase for the flowers. "Good day," A man greeted, shaking Theo's hand. Theo - though not intimidated - was afraid your parents would not approve. Of course, you reminded him they would be only the nicest to him. "You must be, Theo," your father said, a firm hand clasping Theo's. "I am," Theo nodded solemnly. "I will assume you will be taking care of my daughter tonight," Your father's gaze was unforgiving. "Of course, sir. I will have her home by nine o'clock sharp." "And not a minute further." Theo treated you like a queen from the heavens. Though an atheist, he was proud to say that you, you were the little bit of heaven he would hold onto forever. He would hold onto every word you've ever spoken, every story he'd ever been told about you. Just like at the family dinner he arrived to with you as your date. "Oh, Y/N, you've made it!" your aunt's voice rang through the home loudly, making other relatives look your way. You smiled, and let go of Theo's hand for a moment as you hugged your aunt close. "And you brought a date," she added, nudging you playfully in your side. You blushed and looked at Theo. "Yep, this is Theo, Theo meet my aunt," you introduced. She smiled and waved the two of you further inside the home, "Make yourselves at home!" Family members greeted the both of you warmly, coming and going as you made your way through the large home. But after a while, it was finally dinner time, and Theo sat down beside you, smiling as he looked around. He'd never truly had a whole family quite like this, at least, not for a while. But with your family, he felt at home. Safe and normal, just like he prayed all those years to feel. Small talk and comical stories surrounded the table and questions were thrown around. Theo chuckling at a remark one family member made to another every once in a while. After dinner, Theo was first up to voulenteer to help clean up the kitchen with your grandmother and father. "Theo, I hope you don't plan on leaving anytime soon," Your grandmother commented. Theo was confused if she meant leaving the house or leaving you for a moment until she added another comment onto it. "You're a good one for, Y/N. That girl looks at you like you're her entire world. I couldn't imagine if you were to leave." "I don't plan on leaving, at least not until she tells me to." Theo was your first official boyfriend. And you were glad you found him, because you had no clue where you'd be without him. Your life mixed in with the world of supernatural made Theo quite anxious if you didn't pick up your phone while out on a mission to save the town. Especially when the Dread Doctors and chimeras had come and broken chaos around Beacon Hills. You were a human in Scott McCall's pack, the only other human besides Stiles Stilinski. You'd known the two boys since you all were children. "Hey Y/N!" Theo answered, relived to see her number pop up on his screen. "-There was an accident, Theo," Liam's voice was shaky. "What?" Theo was genuinely surprised when he heard Liam's voice at the other end. All the previous relief he had been feeling when he saw her contact pop up on his phone screen was completely gone. It all vanished when he heard, 'accident.' "You gotta get down to the hospital, Y/N got hurt and-" Liam's voice was rushed and Theo wanted nothing more than to break down at the thought of his girl getting hurt in any way, shape or form. "I'll be down there in fifteen," he agreed, hanging up and running out to his car. He turned on the ignition and sped to the hospital, not worrying about the speed limit at all. He bit his lip anxiously, worst case scenario running through his head. After what felt like forever to the teenager, he pulled into the parking lot, killing off the ignition and taking the keys out of his car. He ran inside, meeting a distraught looking Liam halfway through the entrance of the hospital. "Where is she?" There was no friendly greeting, but only anxious words and eyes full of a terrified fear of losing the girl who brought light to many. Liam and Theo took the elevator to the fourth floor and got off. Liam and Theo walked to the small waiting room, filled with the other pack members. Theo looked around with hard as stone eyes, Scott stood up first, Malia's eyes darting to inspect the situation, fearing a fight would break out between the two. "I'm so sorry," Scott apologized softly. Theo swallowed the lump in his throat and spoke up, "You didn't think that maybe not bringing her along was a good idea?" Theo asked. "Theo, she was set on going. We both know how stubborn she is," Scott sighed. "And how about protecting her, extra precautions?" "Theo, it was a surprise attack. Nobody saw it coming." Theo sighed in defeat rubbing his eyes as he took a seat next to where Liam had sat. An hour later and two updates from a doctor, the pack still sat in the waiting room. A woman who Theo recognized as Scott's mom came out to let the pack know they could now see her. The girl was responding completely, but only a few at a time were allowed in, the doctors trying not to overwhelm her too badly. "Theo, I think you should go in first," Scott nodded. Theo thanked Scott, and looked at Scott respectively before going in and heading to the room his girl laid in. He found her room without much difficulty and he opened the curtain. "Oh, princess," he choked out his words. Y/N's face beamed with a smile as her eyes got glossy. "Theo!" she said, and although her voice was hoarse, she still was happy to see his voice. He cupped his hands over her jaw, her hands resting on top of his as she leaned into his touch. "Baby," he whispered, kissing her on the nose lightly. She smiled with her lips closed, sighing at the feeling of his soft touch. He brought a hard chair over to the side of her bed, and sat down. "I love you, Theo," she broke down, crying into his shoulder as he hugged her tightly. Her hands gripped tightly to the hair on the back of his head, taking advantage of the way he felt in her arms. "I love you too, Princess. Always." He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. "Always, always, always." After that day, Theo always made sure to always go with Y/N on any pack mission. Though there weren't many after that, at least not many that Y/N was invited upon. "I get hurt one time, and suddenly I can't go anywhere anymore with them!" Y/N was frustrated at her friends. She wasn't completely helpless. "Babygirl, they just want you to be safe and sound," Theo replied, Y/N huffed as she sat down on the edge of her bed. "I know, but I know I can do something more. I know I can, but they won't let me. They always come up with excuses as to why I can't go," she pouted as she looked back at Theo. Theo came to sit next to her, side by side at the edge of the bed. "They even let Stiles go! And Stiles has gotten hurt plenty of times," Y/N looked down at her hands. "Y/N, maybe they think it's time you get a break from this. They know you aren't completely helpless, but maybe they see the way you're constantly working and up all night. Maybe they see you're close to a breaking point. They just want you to be healthy and happy." Y/N nodded, enclasping her hand in Theo's much larger one. She yawned as she laid her head down on his shoulder. Theo turned his head to kiss the top of hers. They found comfort in each other's presence. "You know I love you, right?" Theo hummed. Y/N lifted her head from his shoulder, "Of course I do," she answered, "What's the sudden ask?" "No, nothing, I was just making sure you knew." "Well know this, Raeken. I love you too, and I don't plan on stopping." Theo Raeken was many things including the terms, sociopath and asshole, but to her, he was the world's biggest softie. He was the shoulder to cry on when she needed it, letting her bury her head into his chest as he kissed he top of her head and pet her hair down lovingly. He was the protector in times where she was desperately needing some sort of security. And he was the lover she'd never forget. Certainly not soon. But even then, there was no promise of forever.