#granted i sometimes only tag show and stuff but i PREFER to tag from the heart | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

The total number of visits Tumblr.com received during January 2021 is 327 million.

#granted i sometimes only tag show and stuff but i PREFER to tag from the heart

alex51324 · 2 years

Text

Just finished watching Our Flag Means Death, which is a great show and you should watch it, and read this article where the showrunners talk about how they have a 3-season story arc planned, and they are optimistic about getting to actually make that second season.

And then I checked out the our flag means death tag here on this hellsite, and I feel like it’s a good time to point out that the second most-important word in “entertainment industry” is “industry.” That is to say, many of the people involved do have what you might call an artistic vision; however, the shows that get made are the ones that people actually pay to watch.

It doesn’t actually help to say, “I need season 2 of this program like I need air,” and then tell people where they can pirate* it.

(*Yeah, yeah, irony, yuk it up.)

Granted, the proliferation of streaming services is making it more and more difficult to legally watch everything that you want to watch, on a reasonable budget. My solution is what I call the “All you can eat buffet approach”: make sure you get good and hungry before you go, wear your elastic-waist pants, and go for the expensive stuff first.

That is, don’t treat streaming services like a utility, that you pay for every month and then it’s there whether you use it or not. Treat it like an occasion: subscribe for a month, watch the stuff you really want to watch, then cancel before they bill you a second time. (Put it on your calendar, set an alarm, whatever, so you don’t forget.) Keep rotating through the different services, and you can watch just about everything you want to watch, with a monthly entertainment budget in the $10-$15 range**.

(**This is US-centric advice, obvs--if the stuff you want to watch is not available where you live, that’s a different problem that I am not qualified to address.)

I’ve done this with Netflix, Hulu, Disney+, and now HBO Max. None of them make it at all difficult to cancel, or to resubscribe when they have new stuff you want to watch--you don’t have to jump through any hoops, or talk to a person. Generally, you go into your account and click “cancel,” then they ask you to pick your cancellation reason from a list, they show you one screen where they try to talk you out of it, you click “yes, I’m sure” and then you’re done.

This is, I emphasize, a completely legitimate way to use these services. (They even have “watched everything I wanted to watch” on the list of cancellation reasons.) You don’t have to keep making new email addresses or any shit like that--just use the same one; sometimes you’ll even get a free month or something for being a Returning Customer.

The disadvantages of this method is that it isn’t free, and you have to do some planning ahead & exercise some patience. What you get in return is that you are an actual paying customer, and therefore your programming preferences count. If the only people who pay to watch TV are senior citizens, then the only shows we’re going to get are the ones that senior citizens want to watch.

#tv #media #entertainment industry #pay for TV or your blorbos will die #if I get tumblr commies on this post Imma go off #I'm not saying this is a GOOD system #but it's the one we have #if a thing costs money to produce #and everybody who wants it is just going to steal it #they aren't going to keep making it

32 notes · View notes

aphroditeslesbian · 3 years

Text

As someone who has been very deep in fandom stuff and has gotten out of the disgusting aspects of it, I wanted to make an overview of the most obvious aspects that are problematic with ABO dynamics, because I only ever see being against ABO treated as a "preference" issue within fandom, when I think it is a political/societal issue. People only ever want to hear the most comfortable point of view on a subject, no one likes looking too deeply into fandom because it is often people's escape from reality. I too use fandom as escapism, but there are lines that shouldn't be crossed, there is a limit after which fandom can become unhealthy, and instill unhealthy ideas within already vulnerable people.

To anyone outside of my followers who might read this, I want to clarify that this analysis comes from the perspective of a lesbian who's tired of misogyny and homophobia in fandom.

So getting down to a basic view of it, a lot of ABO is set in m/m ships, in order to add either mpreg to the mix, or create a heterosexual-adjacent parallel within a same sex ship. It also uses alpha/omega dynamics as an equivalent to top/bottom, and by extension equates top/bottom to dom/sub, as the alphas are always burly, sometimes even mean, evil, dark, and the omegas are pathetic waifs, who only ever bottom, who only ever serve. This is homophobic. This is normalizing the idea that all homosexual relationships are devious or fetishistic.

My main qualms with the mpreg aspect... Mpreg is used to basically remove any need for women in fandom, and it truly shows how fandom just sees women as breeding machines/wives/mothers, so unnecessary they even take away the ability to reproduce from them, giving it over to men, so they don't have to bother writing female characters at all. These men have fully functional male anatomy, but also somehow a working uterus somewhere in the mix, which is just fantastical, but still, these are fully male characters. (Pointing it out because it will be relevant later on).

Both of these examples (mpreg and using alpha/omega as both top/bottom and dom/sub) tie into what I mentioned about the need to fit same sex relationships into heterosexual roles. You know what couples can reproduce? Male and female couples. Aka heterosexual/opposite sex attracted couples. When you take a gay ship, with same sex attracted individuals, and push them into "able to impregnate" and "able to be impregnated" boxes, you are trying to assimilate a homosexual couple into a heterosexual one, and that normalizes that only couples who can reproduce are worthy of telling stories about.

I've talked about m/m ships because they are the overall prevalent ships in most fandoms, and definitely the most common in ABO dynamics alternative universe fanfiction. However, when ABO is applied to f/f ships, something even more perverse can be observed: often, the alpha female characters are granted a penis. At this point there is no hiding that basically ABO f/f fanfiction is actually f/m fanfiction, wherein one of the characters (the alpha) is actually male, with breasts to go along with a fetishistic, unrealistic view of supposedly f/f relationships. This leads to plenty of heterosexual sex flooding the f/f tags. This leads to the idea that lesbians enjoy penis. It leads to the idea that they need penis in order to have fulfilling relationships, with "breeding" kinks, with pregnancy. Like in m/m fanfic, the alpha character has fully functioning male genitalia, even if they might present breasts.

I don't think it needs to be said that fandom often fetishizes and oversexualizes gay ships. That's already fucked up obviously, but at least outside of ABO, usually the fanfiction is actually homosexual. Through ABO fanfiction homosexual relationships are assimilated into heterosexual ones, and we're supposed to let it slide because of... Why?

The alpha/omega stuff translates into fucker and fucked, one must be the one who "wears the pants" in the relationship, one must be submissive, quiet, subservient.... Aka basic heterosexist bullshit.

This particular fanfiction trope teaches young impressionable gay people that the correct way for them to be is actually heterosexual, and it teaches heterosexual people reading fanfic that actually gay people are totally interested in opposite sex genitalia which is just... Not true. It also teaches women we are unimportant, replaceable. It takes pregnancy, this aspect of womanhood which has historically been used to oppress us, keep us down, keep us quiet and subservient... And normalizes that men could go through that too. It coopts our struggles. So you get a barrage of abortion fics, of teen pregnancy fics, of dangerous pregnancy situation fics... And they're all about men. Not a single woman with a speaking role in sight. Maybe they'll have a daughter, though, so the alpha gets to be overprotective, and they get to be seen as soft dads, and she gets to have no autonomy or personality... Bc what woman ever does?

TLDR; ABO is both homophobic and misogynistic/sexist. Drop that gross shit.

#abo #a/b/o fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #misogyny #lesbophobia #homophobia #august rants #fandom #fandom bullshit #mpreg

73 notes · View notes

jamiiviper · 3 years

Text

The Jamil Essay

this is a reupload of a post i made a couple of weeks ago - previously it was an external link to a google doc, so it never showed up in any of the twst tags, but i worked so hard on this and i would really love it if more people read it, so i’m reuploading directly to tumblr.

to put it simply, this is a 3.7k word character analysis purely about jamil. and even with a word count like that i wasn’t quite able to cover everything i wanted to say, so who knows, maybe there’ll be a part 2 one day. i’ve also decided i do want to write a kalim version, so i’ll probably start working on that sometime soon! stay tuned!

trigger warnings: mentions of child abuse

jamil is the vice dorm leader of scarabia, who’s been kalim’s caretaker practically since birth. he puts on a facade of not standing out, preferring to remain completely average, and plans his life around kalim’s antics. as we learned in chapter 4, however, his true feelings are that he bears a lot of resentment towards kalim, and that he wants to stand out - he just wasn’t allowed to, as he can never surpass kalim.

in this essay i want to cover not just my personal interpretation of jamil, but also some common misconceptions that people tend to have about him. twitter doesn’t have this problem as much, but with tumblr i’ve found that there are very few jamil stans, especially in the theory and writing communities - meaning it’s quite common for people to misunderstand his character. in the fandom as a whole, it’s common for people to only acknowledge him insofar as “gay for kalim”.

firstly, jamil’s character development in the main story - i would say he’s arguably the best-developed character in twst, since yana now has enough chapters available to flesh out characters after their main story arc ended. jamil holds very deep-seated resentment against kalim, to the point that he plotted to betray him for probably several years. he plotted to have kalim not just thrown out of nrc, but thoroughly ruin his reputation in the process. after his overblot, those feelings did not magically vanish - far from it. i think earlier twst chapters suffered from arcs being wrapped up a little too neatly post-overblot, but pomefiore’s arc has already proved itself to be the exception and thoroughly covers not just jamil’s continued dislike for kalim, but also the wider consequences for what he did.

since the twst school year begins in september, we know jamil is about 9 months older than kalim. from literally the day kalim was born, jamil’s life has been dedicated to kalim. possibly since the day jamil was born, and he was always fated to be kalim’s caretaker. it may even have been the reason he was born at all. either way, it’s not like he remembers those 9 months. all jamil has ever known is that his sole purpose must be to serve kalim. he must not have desires of his own, he must not do anything for himself - from childhood he was expected to be ready to give up his life for kalim at a moment’s notice. he can’t be good at anything - kalim must always be better (i’ll cover this in more depth in a later paragraph, this philosophy is key to his character). his own parents drilled this into him, even going to the extent of hitting him if he didn’t comply. it seems he has a normal relationship with his family despite this - he bickers with his sister like regular siblings, and pre-overblot he indicated that his desire to be free from servitude wasn’t just about him, he wanted to free his family. nonetheless, the psychological damage his childhood caused him is severe. is it any wonder his unique magic is mind control, when he’s never had an ounce of control over his own life?

moving onto his early teen years, we know both jamil and kalim were severely poisoned at one point, both falling into comas for around two weeks. although we don’t have a timeframe for jamil’s coma, we know kalim’s was when they were around 13 years old. if jamil’s was around this age too - probably a short while afterwards - i think it’s plain to see why jamil’s resentment began to build. he’d have been around the age where he first started to question why his life has to revolve around kalim. why should he be expected to die for someone he doesn’t even like, who’s spoiled and doesn’t realise how much jamil does for him? kalim takes everything for granted: status, friendships, freedom, and jamil is meanwhile left in the shadows with nothing. then one day kalim gets poisoned so badly he falls into a coma - how much do you want to bet jamil was blamed for that, at the age of 13? after that he’s expected to taste-test anything kalim eats beforehand, and eventually starts making all his meals for him because the risk of poison is so high otherwise. then one day he slips up, or it’s an undetectable poison, and jamil is the one to fall into a coma. is anyone blamed for that? does anyone pity jamil outside of his immediate family + kalim? no, probably not. after all, he’s just doing his duty, right? it’s truly… no wonder jamil’s resentment became so intense. he finally has proof that his life truly does not matter. although kalim certainly cares about him, he doesn’t understand jamil’s position. he sees jamil as a friend, an equal; jamil knows this can never be the case, and he also knows kalim is too privileged to ever hope to understand.

fast forward on a couple of years to jamil receiving his nrc acceptance letter. he thinks that finally, finally he’s going to be free. four years of freedom - and who knows, maybe after that he can be free forever! he can finally excel at his classes and be his true self, without fear of upstaging kalim!

and then kalim gets accepted a month late. for no reason other than his surname.

and then kalim gets sorted into his dorm.

it’s a miracle he didn’t just overblot on the spot - but that’s his nature as a scarabia student. careful foresight and planning. this moment was, undoubtedly, the moment he started planning his betrayal. he had his one month of freedom ripped away, just like that.

oh, don’t forget the fact that not long after, kalim was made dorm leader not because he notably embodies scarabia values at all, but because of nepotism. (side note: most scarabia stans agree kalim does actually reflect scarabia values, just not as obviously as jamil does, but either way jamil himself wouldn’t see it this way. this is a jamil essay so i won’t go in depth about this unless asked to!)

under kalim’s watch, scarabia - known for its intelligence and cunning - is turned into “the party dorm”. this seems to be the fandom’s perception of them too - i mean, just ask any non-scarabia stan what goes on in scarabia, that’s probably the answer they’ll give you. jamil would have probably loved the original scarabia; although we don’t know much about it, we know scarabia students are on a par with octavinelle when it comes to intelligence (paralleling azul’s constant interest in jamil). yet by winter break, scarabia is doing so badly in those same exams that they didn’t even place in the rankings…? without meaning to, kalim clearly harmed scarabia. instead of getting chance to study magic and show off, jamil is now essentially an unpaid, full-time party planner by the time his second year starts.

a few months later, winter break finally arrives, and jamil executes his plan to dethrone kalim. i may have just spent the last two pages defending jamil’s grudge, but his actions themselves are still indefensible. there’s evidence to suggest kalim knew what was occurring on some level - refusing to answer jade’s question about who was hypnotising him proved that 1) he probably had some idea deep down that jamil was betraying him 2) he doesn’t want jamil to get in trouble for it. nonetheless, this does not make what jamil did okay in the slightest, even if kalim allowed it to happen. jamil is, undoubtedly, the bad guy in this situation, no matter how sympathetic his childhood makes you feel. i could go into detail about why kalim acted the way he did, but again, this is jamil-focused.

i’ll skip talking about his overblot, because i covered his hatred for kalim in a lot of depth already and i want to talk about the general aspects of his personality like his desire for praise later on. so moving onto the end of chapter 4, we see jamil’s true self: a snarky, heavily opinionated boy who honestly just wants to be free to be himself.

but just like his freedom, that side of jamil once again only lasts for a brief moment. jamil almost loses everything after his overblot. practically every scarabia student hates him and wants him thrown out of the dorm - even kalim, his sole defender, can’t call him a good person. he’s a traitor. he says he trusts the scarabia students to work out that it’s better for them if he stays, but that day won’t come any time soon, and until then he’s keeping his distance from them all, because their hatred is that strong. if azul truly had been streaming to more people than just jade, his life would have been ruined beyond repair. so what does jamil do? he goes back to serving kalim. as a scarabia student, his foresight is good enough that he knows the option he hates the most is the only one that’ll be good for him in the end. for jamil, being himself is nothing short of a death sentence.

now i’ve talked for far too long about the timeline of his character arc, i can finally get to the good stuff: jamil’s personality, and how it’s changed throughout the stories we’ve seen so far.

the first thing that springs to mind when you think of jamil, other than “snake”, is probably “tired”. or “he’s going to snap”. something along those lines. which... yes, we know he is. he did snap. after chapter 4, this doesn’t seem to have changed too much, but i do get the impression that he’s somewhat less stressed out by kalim. his resentment has dissipated, for the most part (he does still openly insult him, though), so while he does grumble at kalim there’s no suppressed fury behind it. what replaced that fury?

guilt.

in 5-10, jamil tells azul that he intends to continue to obediently follow kalim around in order to restore his reputation, both inside and outside of scarabia. this does of course make him sound pretty selfish (as per usual), and in classic jamil fashion he doesn’t let his true emotions show, so it’s easy to take this at face value and assume he just doesn’t really care. i think in this case, we need to look more at his actions that we see throughout chapter 5. namely, the way it’s being emphasised how he’s silently watching kalim from afar - something he’s always done, yes, but yana seems to be really making a point of it in chapter 5. it’s not just kalim he’s distancing himself from, either. he’s staying away from the rest of the scarabia students too, as mentioned earlier. he never had any friends at all to rely on, even before his overblot. so by doing this, he’s effectively completely isolating himself. he clearly has a lot of thoughts about everything that he’s not sharing with anyone - just listen to the way he sighs at the end of the flashback in 5-10, how annoyed and frustrated he seems. if jamil was telling the truth about just wanting to restore his reputation, he’d probably appreciate kalim’s efforts, even if he dislikes kalim himself. he shouldn’t be upset by kalim persuading the scarabia students to give him another chance. not if he truly just wants to get back to normal. i think on some level, jamil feels incredibly guilty over his actions. he might not have even admitted to himself yet that he feels this way, and by saying things like “i just want to restore my reputation” he’s just trying to convince himself. after all, that’s something he has a history of doing.

ever since jamil’s first introduction, we’ve known jamil lives his life by the philosophy of “not standing out is the best way to succeed”. he hates standing out or receiving any kind of positive attention at all, because he thinks that it’ll only attract trouble. or so we thought, because as we learned from his overblot, jamil desperately wants to stand out. he’s powerful and intelligent, and he wants people to acknowledge that. he wants the praise and recognition he knows he deserves. this means that whenever he said he didn’t want to stand out, he was lying through his teeth - he probably constantly tried and failed to convince himself of this throughout his childhood. during his lab SR story, he even repeats it to himself in his thoughts, like a mantra - “I want to avoid standing out. I can’t be satisfied with this. I cannot be too good, nor fall behind, and neither should I get satisfactory grades or fail. This is the best shortcut to success.”. much like his feelings of guilt, jamil refused to acknowledge how much he truly wanted to show off, even in his own thoughts. he is awful at being honest to himself.

post-ch5, we find out that despite everything, jamil does still hold this philosophy, to some extent. he of course shows off his singing and dancing skills enough to be chosen as a main vocalist, and he says he wants to make a name for himself and show various people just how talented he truly is: kalim, his family, the asims and MC, to name a few. yet in the chapter before that, when kalim compliments his singing and dancing, he’s like “i don’t really want to stand out, but…”. which is honestly a little confusing at first because he does want to. i’d probably interpret it as something along the lines of he wants to show off to the people he cares about, but he still wants to keep his head down in general. so i think that to some extent, maybe he actually has internalised that philosophy now. the one time he truly expressed his desire to stand out, it ended in catastrophe for him. he has this tiny seed of doubt within him now, telling him his parents were right all along. but... he’s working past it, and applying himself as and when he’s comfortable doing so.

going back to him being bad at being honest, jamil’s a pretty big tsundere. there’s one person he does regularly receive praise from: kalim. yet despite desperately wanting to be praised, he often gets annoyed at kalim and tells him something like “this isn’t about me right now” or “what does that have to do with anything?”. plus when the praise is coming from kalim, it’s often in the context of kalim praising him to other people - as a servant, he can’t be seen accepting all these compliments, right? he can never be better than kalim. so he has to reject kalim’s praise. when it’s just the two of them alone, though, is when jamil gets embarrassed to the point he has to hide his blush under his hood. given his childhood, chances are that he doesn’t really know how to process being praised. he knows he wants people’s approval, but when he actually gets it, he just short-circuits. it was the same at his birthday celebration; although he wants to be the centre of attention, when it actually happens, he gets all embarrassed and tsun. i was trying not to let my own personal feelings spill in this but oh my god he’s so cute i can’t

next... this isn’t really linked to any previous topic, but i want to talk about jamil’s cooking! jamil cooks all of kalim’s meals, and regularly cooks entire feasts for kalim’s parties, too (as well as being in charge of getting any animals kalim wants to show off, decorating the dorm, making sure everything runs smoothly… you get the idea). his cooking is very good, and he has a lot of technical knowledge about cooking too - azul, whose parents run a restaurant, didn’t know about emulsification, but jamil was able to explain it to him. despite being so good, though, according to his dorm SSR homescreen lines he doesn’t actually like cooking very much. he says the fact that he cooks so much is “just how things turned out”. of course, he could just be being a tsun, but i do feel like he’s being honest with this - what reason does he have to seriously enjoy something he was forced into doing his entire life? However there is evidence that he might enjoy it after all; he’s particularly good at alchemy because of his cooking knowledge, and according to magical archives he’s completely neutral in motivation for both flying and history lessons, but has slightly higher motivation levels for alchemy, indicating that he can’t stop himself from putting a little bit extra effort into that class. i think it can be interpreted either way with the canon info we have currently, but regardless i would not say he’s the cooking fanatic people often depict him as.

also, when jamil cooks, although his cooking is good, visually it’s usually very boring, to the point he and his sister would bicker over it. he has the technical skills to cook good food, but no idea how to present it. similarly, in his fairy gala SR he was told that although he perfectly memorised the dance, it was boring to watch - it looked like he was just executing the routine without any passion behind it. jamil is so emotionally repressed that he has no idea how to express his individuality. even in his bedroom, the only truly personal items he owns are a first aid kit (related to his servant position, not him as a human being) and a stereo + headphones set for dancing. he doesn’t have any other hobbies or interests - he doesn’t even know what people his age do for fun, because he’s never been allowed to think about such things.

dancing is all jamil has that’s not directly related to serving kalim, really - but even that ties into his servant status. although he genuinely enjoys it nowadays and dances by himself for fun, he only picked it up as a hobby because kalim wanted to go to dance practice, and of course jamil had to accompany him. when his flashback after his overblot talks about him deliberately losing to kalim, the story focuses specifically on a dancing competition. which is why it’s honestly so important to jamil’s character that chapter 5 focuses on a singing and dancing competition. jamil finally has the chance not just to show off his skills in general, but his skills at the one thing he’s been allowed to love throughout his life. the one thing where losing to kalim at it hurt so much that it was such a prominent memory for him. when jamil was chosen as a main vocalist, he instinctively tries to say kalim would be better suited for the position, but stops himself and accepts it. it clearly means so much to him that he was chosen for this.

okay i started to scare people with how long this was getting when it was only 50% finished, i think if i write anymore people will actually be concerned for my health so i’ll leave it here. if you read all of this, thank you so much for putting up with my anime boy brainrot for over six full pages! i really.. really like jamil. again, i most certainly do not think his actions should be defended, but god if they’re not fascinating to read about. and i hope i covered the other sides to him well enough, the things that you’d never ordinarily pick up on because so few people talk about him outside of him and kalim as a pair (both platonic scarabia + romantic jamikali, i mean). he has so much depth to him that people don’t see and god i could easily have gone on for another few pages if i wasn’t forcing myself to stop. but please please talk to me if you want to hear more...

yana has treated him so well, jamil stans get too much food if anything but i’m absolutely thriving off it as you can see! thank you for allowing him to exist, yana-sensei!

having said that, i couldn’t stop myself from adding some extra facts about him below. please enjoy.

some fun jamil facts for your soul:

his sister used to bake him cookies on his birthday - specifically, these!

when jamil and kalim went to eat at the cafeteria with ruggie and leona, leona took one look at jamil and went “you look like you’d kill kalim in his sleep”

sebek and jamil find each other’s positions enviable. sebek wishes he could have been by malleus’ side from birth as jamil was with kalim, and jamil just… wishes he served someone he respected as deeply as sebek respects malleus (but he does think sebek is too enthusiastic)

jamil hates surprises with a burning passion, and despite being with kalim for 17 years is still not used to them. for his previous birthday, kalim held a huge surprise party, and i think he still hasn’t recovered from the shock

i think a lot of people already know that in his birthday SSR story he said he wanted a parrot after graduation so he could teach it to call him master, but it goes a bit further than that? it was actually first mentioned during his lesson chats, when kalim gets a parrot. jamil has to research how to care for it, and ended up wanting one of his own afterwards (but got too tsundere to admit it at the time).

also, he heard that the sorcerer of the sands’ parrot (iago) could speak as fluently as a human, and he got excited and watched a bunch of parrot videos on magicam, but was of course disappointed to find out that this was not the case.

he frequently uses flattery to try and get his way, like when he attempts to flatter vil during his SSR story - unfortunately he misjudged vil, as vil’s actually the type of person who hates meaningless flattery. because he does this so frequently, when he genuinely does give compliments people don’t always believe him.

according to the halloween event, jamil is surprisingly environmentally conscious, and insists on holding a sustainable halloween theme. after organising so many parties and seeing the waste they probably produce, i think there’s no wonder he’s so concerned about it.

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twst jamil #scarabia #twst #kalim al-asim #twst kalim #i'm a busy uni student so don't expect the kalim essay to be finished anytime soon #i procrastinated way too much writing the jamil one #and i would not do the same for kalim ajdfjshsjhs #also i know people have said they'd like to see my take on other charas but please consider:#the only reason i have this deep an insight into jamil's character is bc i never think about the others #there's only jamil in my head #so i don't think i'm the best person to go to for interesting analysis about anyone else #but again who knows #tw: abuse

258 notes · View notes

whiskeynwriting · 2 years

Text

Tumblr Writers Q & A

Thank you @littlemisspascal for tagging me, ily hun <3

1) How many complete fics/oneshots do you have but haven’t published yet?

Right now, I only have one fic I haven't yet posted and it's a Frankie one (: I literally just finished it today lol. It's a one-shot for my 1k Followers Celebration!

2) How many WIPs do you have?

Good lord, so many. Obviously I have my character series' but I also have 10 more fic requests to complete for my 1k Followers Celebration, so I have a lot of stuff queued up for you guys lol

3) Do you take requests, write original fics, or both?

Usually, both! As of right now though, I am no longer taking fic requests because I'm still completing the ones from the celebration. After I'm done with those, I'm going to take a little break from requests, but I will certainly come back to it!

4) If you have requests how many do you actually have?

Currently 11

5) How many fandoms do you write for?

Just Pedro Pascal characters <3 (I've been thinking about writing for Loki and Steven Grant/Marc Spector, but idk)

6) Are there any fandoms you used to write for?

Nope, this is my first time writing on this platform!

7) Do you write for ships, reader inserts, or OC?

I write OC characters and reader inserts. I don't write for ships

8) Niche fandom/Characters you write for?

Just Pedro's characters (:

9) Do you read fics as well as write them?

Yes ma'am! I also do fic recommendations at the end of every month (:

10) Favorite genre to write for?

Ugh, I love angsty and romantic, either together or separate. I really like using tension and specific detail in my stories

11) What is your favorite trope (to read/write)?

I really like "forbidden" type tropes, along with royalty fics, and soulmate fics!

Established relationships are also a trope I like to write, mainly with Daddy Whiskey, Frankie, and Din

12) What do you do to get motivated to write?

I listen to music, I looks at GIFs, and I also look at/reread my past fics. Sometimes I'll look up specific scenes from movies or shows, too. I also have an inspiration folder that I keep when I get the urge to write random one-liners and ideas. That is suuuper helpful, I utilize that folder a lot

13) Is there a trope/genre you like to read, but not write?

I love dark and twisted tropes, but I don't like to write them. When I write, I create my happy place, and that ain't my happy place lol

14) Any characters/fandoms you want to write for that are never requested?

Oh my god I want to write Dieter Bravo and Javi G. SOOOO BAD

15) How long have you been writing fanfiction?

For about 10 months! My 1 year anniversary is coming up in June!

16) Did you read fanfiction before you started writing?

Hell yeah I did lmao

17) Do you only post on Tumblr, or any other sites?

I only post my writing on Tumblr

18) what do you personally consider the wordcounts of "Drabble", "One-Shots" and "Fics"?

Drabbles: 50-500 words. One-Shots: 1k-6k words. Fics: 7k+ words

But that's just in reference to me, and even I don't always follow that. But this varies a LOT depending on the writer and the characters and stuff

19) Which do you prefer to write more?

I really love the current fic series' that I have going. I'm in love with all of them, so I think I like to write chapters for those more than anything else. One-shots can be fun too if I'm in the right mood lol. The only time I ALWAYS love writing one-shots is when they're about Daddy Whiskey <3

20) Are there any stories you have discontinued?

Nope (: I may take longer breaks from certain stories than others, but I intend to finish all of my series! I can't abandon them they're my babies lol

21) What is one of your main "pet-peeves" as a writer on Tumblr?

I know it's hard, even I get in my head about this sometimes, but I really dislike when others compare their work. It's not a competition, it's about personal growth and honestly just having fun. You can create your own little home here, write what you want to write and interact with who you want to interact with. Every single account is different. Your account is about YOU

22) Do you write at a particular time of day?

Nope, I am all over the place baby lmao

23) Do you listen to music or ambiance/noise to write, or do you need total silence?

I bounce back and forth from all three, just depends on how I'm feeling

24) Do you outline your fics at all before writing?

More often than not, yes. It's rare for me to not outline a piece before writing it

25) Do you post your writing as soon as you finish it, or do you schedule it to come out at a specific time/day?

I post on Mondays and Fridays, usually in the evenings/later in the night. I'm trying to change that though and just post throughout the day on those two days

No pressure tags: @anaaaispunk @oogaboogasphincter @lucky-pascal @pascalslittlebrat

#tag game #my writing #I love this

5 notes · View notes

nafeary · 4 years

Note

Can I have some really short headcanons with MC spending time with the Ikevamp boys?

✧✎ A/N: Hiii sweets! As I’m dealing with pretty heavy topics right, both in life and writing (my cheating!mc headcanon, oh my), I decided to make this short fluffy one first. Make sure to drink water and to sleep well :))))

Also, these kept on getting longer (and longer and longer)... I dunno how that happened 🤷‍♀️

Napoleon Bonaparte

While you enjoyed accompanying the former emperor and Isaac to teach the children in town

Or going for tranquil evening strolls

Or watching him spar with Jean (HOT)

Both of your favourite past time by far was you waking him, and the cuddling that would always follow (among other... activities *wink wink*)

He’d nuzzle up against your neck, enklindling giggles from you as he protested about you wanting to help Sebastian with breakfast

You couldn’t bring yourself to care too much (sorry Sebas)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Music is the centre of his life; but so are you

He had to learn to give you the attention you deserved, and he’d often wonder if you were were truly content with sitting beside him as he played

You’d love to watch the genius in action, humming and singing along when you happen to recognize his songs

If you don’t already know, he’d teach you to play the piano and the violin

And despite being the ever strict instructor, you’d often catch his tranquil simper as his hands would ghost over your own

Leonardo Da Vinci

After all your chores would be completed, you’d hunt down the Renaissance man

Which would be quite time consuming, as he could be anywhere. Literally.

Once you succeeded in your mission, you’d sit beside wherever he decided to sleep this time (sometimes with one of your heads resting on the other’s lap) and you’d talk. As simple as that

You were, of course, aware of the scientist’s unquenchable thirst for knowledge, and you were more than glad to tell him about everything you knew about your time in detail

In return, he’d find a way to charge your phone, as you always expressed the desire to show him actual pictures of your old life

Curious boi is impressed

Arthur Conan Doyle

If his girlfriend were to be a social butterfly, you’d probably enjoy tagging along with the third wheel Theo to their regular bars, sharing embarrassing anecdotes of each other

Both of you could often be seen taking Vic for a walk, and Arthur would, no fail, try to get your attention away from the dog acting as his love rival

You could only roll your eyes at his histeronic behavior as he pulled you close, hiding his flaming cheeks at your teasing

If you tend to be more quiet loving, you’d indulge in some alone time in his room [goddammit, not that type of indulging]. As you listened to his calming puffs or air, he’d sometimes ask you to read some of his drafts

Whatever the case was, it would always end with Arthur sweetly pecking your purses lips, a smile gracing his handsome face

Vincent Van Gogh

Wanderlust is a mutual feeling you two shared, and Theodorus had to come to terms with the fact that you two could disappear for hours to end

As soon as you two would find a stunning location, he’d unpack his painting supplies while asking you questions about your old life

You two preferred to stay until the sun would retire for the moon to reign, so that the artist’s canvas had the chance to dry

Sebas would always prepare some snacks for you two upon Comte’s suggestion (because Sugar Daddy takes care of his kids)

As the picnic blanket lay beneath you two, Vincent would pull you close, basking in the serene serenity of your embrace

Thedorus Van Gogh

Baking!

Whether you know or don’t know (in which case Sebastian would gladly help you out) how to cook, the others would find the resident couple in the kitchen as Theo judged your pastries

Of course, he might be mean about it, but that was just apart of him that you’ve learnt to live with; after all, you weren’t perfect either

You discovered that he preferred his sweets... well, sweet, so you have grown used to making two batches of every dough/custard/anything, really: one for you and the other residents, and one solely for him

He’d sometimes saunter behind you, swiftly swiping some saccharine cream onto his finger from a bowl you were currently using. Before you could utter your protests, he’d paint your lips with it, a smirk parading across his cheeks

Successfully shutting you up with a tooth rottingly sweet kiss, he’d say, “Your creations are quite delicious, wouldn’t you agree, knabbletje?” [Would you look at that, Food Play!Theo has returned]

Your knee joints were seemingly replaced by the jelly chilling in the basement

Dazai Osamu

When he’d require inspiration for his novels (or simply felt trapped in his own misery), he’d find himself looking across the vast expanse of le Comte’s land

And somehow, he’d find you more than often amongst the flowers, waving at him to join you

He’d assist you as you cared for the flowers, watching your lithe and nimble hands as they practically danced across the fields

A few butterflies would appear, and he somehow had the ability to make them land on his finger as he explained each of their meanings, explanations spanning from eastern culture to Native American even

You’re always so fixed on the little butterflies resting on him, the writer can’t help himself but kiss your forehead, the subsequent crimson staining your face eliciting such a calm expression from him that you can’t help but smile at his joy

Isaac Newton

As you were both more than busy during the day, you’d vacate your time as the first stars speckled the horizon, Isaac busying himself with mapping the stars

You’d sometimes ask him to teach you, but you tended to zone out as the lectures became more and more scientific and “can you please repeat that in English”-like

Despite the ire lining his voice when he noticed your blank stare, his pouting made it rather apparent that he didn’t mind

He’d scoff whenever you’d start with astrology. “But you’re determined, just like a Capricorn.” “That doesn’t mean anything.”

As more and more stars would appear, you’d catch yourselves gaze more into each other’s eyes than the sky, alabaster rays illumining your loving eyes

His research would be entirely forgotten as your head rested upon his shoulder, liking the prospect of your figurative weight resting on him

Jean d’Arc

You want to watch him spar

Soft boi doesn’t want you to watch him spar

You want to try using his foil

Soft boi doesn’t want you to try using his foil

More than adamant about not revealing his dark side (you couldn’t care less, him sparing was hot but you didn’t know how to bring that up)

As such, you’d ask him to go shopping with you, arguing that his presence would act as the perfect protection

Foolproof way to persuade the stoic soldier: Volume I

You’d enjoy spending time with him in quiet cafes, enjoying him struggle to contain his expressions of content upon trying all the delicacies

Stone on the outside, panic in the inside when you decided to lower yourself onto his lap, telling him that no one could see you two (soldier life did not prepare him for his flirty amour)

William Shakespeare

Stabbing is his favourite past time

To Theo’s disgust, whenever you and and his broer would visit THE creep, he’d often return alone, relying your wish of staying at his mansion for a little while longer

He’d be besotted by all the stories you relayed to him, all the anecdotes of modern life

As you saw his latest works, you were glad he wasn’t using the residents for his drama anymore

He also liked dancing with you, in the moment the clock would hit midnight. As you would both sway beneath the moon’s embrace, he had never felt more at peace

Comte de Saint-Germain

Sugar Daddy likes buying you stuff, that’s it. That’s the headcanon

Jk, but he genuinely enjoys the prospect of shopping clothes with you

He’d even draft some on his own (I mean, have you seen his fashion style? Yes babayyy). If you were a fan of design, you’d both make outfits for one another

Would buy you the best silk if you wanted it... would buy you holo fabric from the future if you wanted it

After your shopping would be done, you’d walk along the Seine, reminiscing about the times none of you have gotten to life in

He enjoyed having you in his office, allowing you to vent about noble ladies that thought they could do as they please and parade around your man

As your ire left your ears fuming, he’d muse how scrumptiously adorable your jealousy it

He’d probably lift you ontop his desk to show you that you had absolutely nothing to fear— if you get what I mean ;)

...What are you talking about? I wasn’t talking about that 🙄. He’d simply show you all the designs you’ve made together smh

Sebastian

Vampires were goddamn lucky creatures. They, unlike him, didn’t have to deal with those horrid muscle cramps

However, his pain was more than familiar to you. Thus, one evening, you proposed as you prepared for bed if he’d like a massage from you

It would... sometimes lead to other acts, but that’s a story for another time 🙃

...I- that’s- I was talking about him massaging her... I should probably omit these insinuations

Now, you’d also spent time by adjusting your (and Dazai’s) favourite Japanese dishes with ingredients the 19th century France granted

This would oftentimes lead to questionable results, but you two would laugh it off with mirth enjoying your company

I am physically unable to write a Theo without foodplay, or Dazai without angsty undertones

295 notes · View notes

honeybeesiness · 3 years

Note

all of your writing has a very warm feeling to it, it's like actual honey for my soul, i love it! if i could, could i ask you for some century egg x reader headcanons, please? i hope you have a wonderful day!

i know this one took awhile but!! we don't talk about that!! i’ve been in a writing flunk for awhile; it happens a lot to me but i try my best to be consistent ;;‎. i just don’t want to let any of y’all down. ‎‎

and thank you very much! y’all are so nice, i– ‎‎‎

when i saw the word "despair" in century’s bio, i was like, "👁️👄👁️ junko enoshima" ‎

Dating Century Egg is like....

‎

....The transition from Winter to Spring. Due to his years of unwanted captivity, Century Egg has grown lonely. The corpse of his previous master wasn’t the most ideal company, so he would definitely cling to you. However, there is a bit of hesitance to it. The last person he deeply cared about trapped him in confinement for hundreds of years, so he would be worried that you might do the same when you die. Due to this fear, he is always reluctant to do much of anything with you. Even getting him to hold your hand can be a slow process, so please be patient with him. It might not seem like it, but he’s trying really hard to not be as skeptical as he is. This also means that Century Egg would be a better fit with someone who is kind and gentle rather than someone who is sharp-tongued and hotheaded. While he is not the type to break down and cry easily, he doesn’t want to be rushed and would prefer to take his time in getting both comfortable and used to you. That desire can also imply a sense of "never being ready"-ness, and what I mean by that is that Century Egg might inadvertently be continuously pushing off and delaying the end result by saying that he’s just not comfortable or "ready" yet. Like I mentioned before, it’s not just a slow process, but it can be tiring as well, especially since you never truly know when he’s fully adjusted to the world and you yet. While he might have forever, you certainly don’t, so you don’t want to waste the precious time you have waiting for something that might never arrive. But just know that Century Egg never means to push you away or postpone any sign of significant advancement. He’s just afraid, that’s all. ‎

....A breath of fresh air. Century Egg has an interesting perspective of the modern world, and that is because he’s viewing the time period through ancient eyes. Even though so much has changed between then and now, Century Egg is able to spot and point out areas that he remembers from his time accompanying Xuan Wu. He always has something interesting to tell you about each individual spot and will happily indulge you if you’re willing to listen. Century Egg also likes to buy you things and give you gifts! Since he’s not very used to customs of the modern era, he has a tendency to mimic what others are doing because that is most likely accurate in this time period. If he sees other couples giving gifts to one another, then he’ll do it too, but observing people’s behavior doesn’t necessarily give him all the information he needs. This means that he’ll buy you a lot more stuff than what is considered the normal amount, and those goodies will vary heavily since he’ll buy you anything that he thinks you might like regardless of whether you actually like it or not. It just shows how often he thinks of you, though! What Century Egg also does is pay attention to you when you’re out and about. If your gaze lingers longer on a cute shirt or the newest edition to your favorite book series, then he’ll catch on immediately and commit the item to memory so he can buy it for you when he’s able to. With that being said, Century Egg usually goes overboard with presents on your birthday or on Christmas (If you celebrate it, that is.). ‎

....Becoming human once again. Century Egg has a tendency to be robotic when it comes to his actions. He'll listen to every word you say without a single hint of doubt and he'll follow through with every instruction you give him. While this quality has its benefits (i.e. deliveries, housework, airship shipments), it can be frustrating. A part of being an individual means thinking and behaving for yourself rather than obediently following along to what you're told without any second thoughts, and Century Egg seems incapable of doing so— At least at the moment (And even though I mentioned above that Century Egg would have a lot of hesitance when doing things with you, that only applies to being intimate with you.). But like I mentioned above, his compliance can have his benefits. Even though he’ll do it without hesitation, Century Egg actually enjoys going out on deliveries for you and making sure that your restaurant is in ship-shape. To him, managing these sorts of things helps shave off some of the workload for you, because the last things he wants is for you to overwork yourself. It isn’t a very good feeling to see you stressed out or exhausted, so he’ll what he can to make sure you don’t end up that way. He’s reliable and responsible, so you’d be in good hands if he were to ever take up the reigns. Breaks are important, and you should always make sure to not bite off more than you can chew. ‎

....Spring’s first flower. Century Egg enjoys beautiful weather, and is perfectly content with sitting underneath the shade of a tree to stare at the clouds. He would be happier if you were with him, and if you decide to tag along sometime, the two of you could have a picnic! He’d very much like that, but if you decline, then that’s okay! Maybe next time. Contrary to his rather gloomy disposition, Century Egg’s favorite season is spring. It’s cool (but not too cool) and all the blooming flowers are really pretty to look at. He’ll take you on walks through public gardens, insist on planting flowers in your front or backyard, and he’ll buy you lots of bouquets too! Might want to get a few more vases while he’s in this springtime mindset! The flowers aren’t the only things he likes about spring, however. Like I mentioned above, he likes the cool weather that comes with it, but he also likes the rainbow of colors that this season provides. Being confined and being forced to view a limited palette of colors most of his life really makes him appreciate the beauty of the world a little more, and he would feel more inclined to not take life for granted. He’ll appreciate it while it lasts and, well, his lasts forever, so he has all the time in the world. This thought is also a gentle yet dreadful reminder that your time on earth is limited and that you won’t be able to spend forever with him no matter how much you want to. It’s unfortunate, yes, and inevitable as well, but instead of moping over it, Century Egg is intent on making your life as enjoyable and as exciting as possible. You don’t need to worry about a thing, because Century Egg’s got it handled. Your life is valuable, and so Century Egg will do as much as he can to protect it.

#x reader #food fantasy headcanons #food fantasy imagine #food fantasy x reader #food fantasy #food fantasy century egg #century egg #century egg x reader #fluff #food fantasy fluff #despair man 6000 #lonely bby #relationship imagines #imagines #headcanons #relationship headcanons #emo mans

87 notes · View notes

westerberg · 3 years

Text

tagged by @officialglenntilbrook 😘💞💖❤️🥂

1. what is the first song you remember hearing? Oh man uhh... i remember my my dad playing the video for... oops i did it again I think? by britney spears and i was very obsessed with it. if i saw the video I would know but i don’t feel like doing that. hard to say if that is my earliest memory of music tho. i remember listening to the R.E.M. In Time greatest hits in the car late at night and feeling weird out of body as Man on the Moon came on. i like that story better but I have no idea when that memory is from. i also feel like i heard my mom singing along with Sarah McLaughlin or Norah Jones a lot when i was very young.

2. what is the first band you got into? hmm... i really loved Bon Jovi when I was very young but i didn’t like. have any knowledge of them or their discography I just liked slippery when wet and their greatest hits. and also thats embarrassing so i am trying to think of an out... probably the first real musical obsession i had was lana del rey when I was 14 /15 but thats also not great. just take the L buddy... i didnt actually get into music i would now consider very good until about 16.

3. do you collect any physical music? during quar i started trolling ebay and other similar sites for cheap cds and I have gotten a pretty good collection! you would be shocked the number of people who just really do not want to have their R.E.M. albums anymore. I have a few vinyls- a couple of cheap Joni records, Station to Station, the mats Dead Mans Pop boxset thing, and the R.E.M. single So. Central Rain. Oh and I have a very cool cd single of beastie boys body movin’. I also have a collection of cassettes that used to belong to my mom- she passed 5 yrs ago so they are very special to me! she had some R.E.M., U2, Eurythmics, Squeeze, Crowded House, Indigo Girls, and I recently dug up a bootlegged Tracy Chapman tape! she might have some more at her childhood home and if I find a tape of murmur i’ll like blackout. the sad thing is that now I really like all these musicians my mom apparently liked but i was not into them when she was alive so :/ figuring things out feels like archeology. was listening to In Time greatest hits the other day and was like she definitely skipped E-Bow the Letter every time it came on lol bc i did not hear this song until like last year.

4. what is your favourite piece of music memorabilia? do you know that picture of R.E.M. where they are all holding roses like they are all going to the prom together? i scored a poster of that off Ebay for the incredible deal of $50!! a deal at any price :) I don’t have much that is like legit valuable lol. But here you have to see the picture

5. what's your favourite concert you've ever been to? hmm i havent really been to any truly mindblowing concerts I don’t think. I got to see Tommy Stinson play an acoustic set at 7th street entry in 2019 which was very cool. I feel crazy saying thats my favorite but it was incredibly special.

6. if you could see one artist who is no longer alive in concert, who would it be? If you ask right now I would probably have to say Replacements with Bob Stinson. Prince would be a close one

7. have you met any musicians? almost! when i went to see tommy stinson, afterwards he was hanging in a bar next to the club and was taking selfies with people. i kept thinking about getting in line and eventually i decided to just do it. when i finally went to go look for him he was deep in a conversation with someone and I also realized i had nothing intelligent to say, so i sat and stared at him talking for a bit until i left and went back to the show.

8. what is your go to album when you're feeling sad? Tim by the mats! i think i maybe listened to this album every day my senior year of high school. it is legitimately strange how I feel as if this album just knows me very well. everyone says this about the mats but every song feels like it’s about me and my life. I think a perk of being a lower middle class Minnesotan with an alcoholic father is just really really getting the replacements. but i guess it depends on the kind of sad I am. If i’m just looking to be cheered up i might go with Lifes Rich Pageant or Green by R.E.M. because invariably by the end of Tim I will be bummed out !

9. what is your go to album when you're feeling happy? somehow this is a very hard question. Radio City by Big Star was a big one for me when i was still on campus. maybe an obvious one but rubber soul is a good being happy album

10. what is one music documentary you love? the doc Every Everything about Grant Hart from Hüsker Dü is a favorite. it’s just all interview with him and he’s a fascinating guy. I’ve never watched an interview with him where i wasn’t like woah u’re smart :0... the director of that also did a good replacements doc but at certain point with mats journalism im just like well i could’ve just read trouble boys.

11. what is one concert DVD you love? I think I only own one concert DVD, Prince’s Lovesexy show which i was very obsessed with back in high school.

12. do you prefer listening to playlists or albums? i prefer albums usually, sometimes i’m in the mood for a playlist but albums are def superior

13. do you prefer to listen to albums in order or on shuffle? in order !!!! What am i a psychopath

14. what is your favourite deep cut song by your favourite artist? Portland by the mats is a top ten song of theirs. very in character for it to be a b-side i’m not even mad

15. what is your favourite cd/cassette/vinyl you own in terms of packaging? I love the inner sleeve of my Grandpaboy cd which is just Paul Westerberg’s doodles and scribblings. sometimes when i buy stuff off of ebay it comes with notes and stuff too which is my favorite. my copy of suicaine gratifaction came with a very sweet note of how much the previous owner loved it. and my copy of mbv’s loveless has this very hard to read note which i can maybe make out half of. if you can read it please translate for me.

i love being tagged but if you do not want to answer 15 long questions do not feel pressured! i shall tag @the-replacemints @pattismithgender @myfcukingrat @willemdafoeplscallmemynumberis @little-rimbaud @milesofsmiles97 @electrofolk 🤙😜💘

#this was very fun!!!! thank yoo <3

6 notes · View notes

takerfoxx · 3 years

Text

So I finished season 2 of Camp Cretaceous, and...I really, really liked it! Now that the kids already had their rapport formed and had their more annoying tendencies softened by character development, it was a lot easier to get invested in them, and it had a lot of that survival stuff I was hoping for.

That being said, there were a few elements that I didn’t care for, but to get into both those and the stuff I enjoyed, we’ll need a spoiler tag.

All right, so my main assessment of season 1 was that it started out so-so for the first few episodes only to see a massive leap forward once the dinosaurs had escaped, which only escalated up to a baller finale. Granted, this was likely deliberate, as sometimes you need to start off slow on purpose to lay the foundation for the much cooler stuff you want to do later. Hell, I do it all the time. But it’s still kind of a drag to get through.

In contrast, this season started off very strong and was building momentum to the whole survivalism/uncover the mysteries of the park I was hoping for (seriously that one episode with their really cool treehouse about them fixing the blocked river was exactly the sort of thing I wanted), only for that to suddenly get brought to a screeching halt and then taken in a different direction entirely by the arrival of the hunters, and while the mysteries set up in those early episodes were not forgotten and continued to pay off, I wasn’t a huge fan of the new direction. I mean, it’s not a bad idea, and credit where it’s due, once the hunters had dropped the facade, momentum picked the hell up back again, and those last two episodes were fantastic.

It’s just I was hoping for something else, and it looked like it was going to be that thing I wanted, only for these new characters to suddenly show up and take things into a totally different direction, and in doing so returned the show to what really felt a lot like early season 1 pacing. And I was kinda rolling my eyes in how over-the-top Saturday morning cartoon villain evil they got. And on the opposite end of the spectrum, Hap’s good turn was a bit...extreme, I guess. I mean, it was by no means a dealbreaker or even that bad, it just felt a little forced.

That being said, the whole rich Yuppie couple hunters going to Jurassic World to hunt dinosaurs is a neat idea, especially given their deliberate resemblance to Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler. Heck, even Hap could be mistaken for Ian Malcom if glimpsed from behind. And hey, when things really took off, they did a good job making the couple absolutely hateable, and I loved that they had the balls to have them get straight up eaten in a kid’s show. Those two moments were deliciously cathartic, especially after they killed the Baronyx. That moment made me gasp out loud, and then actively start rooting for their gory demises, which I got, and it was AWESOME!. Plus, the battle of wits between them and the kids was joyfully chaotic, and Rexy was used very well in the first and final episodes.

I also really liked what they did with Ben. I mean, him coming back as this now badass suvivalist was to be expected, but it was still cool to see how much he’s grown up while still having a bit of the old Ben in there. His solo episode was a season highlight. I even enjoyed the fight with Toro, even if it was really silly.

So yeah, I had some issues, but overall I liked this season a lot. And while I feel that season 1 was more consistently paced, I do prefer season 2, and give it a solid 8.5 out of 10.

Now, in regards to the big mystery of what’s in E750, the most popular theory is that it’s an Indoraptor. And you know what? I would totally be down for an Indoraptor! Only problem with that theory is that it doesn’t line up with the timeline, as the Indoraptor wasn’t created by Dr. Wu until much later using the recovered Indominus tooth, and that obviously hasn’t happened yet.

So as an alternative, maybe it’s a Spinoraptor from Jurassic World Evolution? The Carnoraptor from the toy line? Maybe it’s another Spinosaurus? Hell, it could be the Ultimasaurus from Chaos Effect! Whatever it is, it will undoubtedly be the main dino threat in season 3.

#jurassic world #camp cretaceous

24 notes · View notes

tarithenurse · 3 years

Text

Nightingale - 22

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: More good stuff. And some serious. A/N: Sorta got the job! As in: not the steady contract but they arranged a 1year temp so I can get more experience (that was the only reason I didn’t get the full). Anyhoodles, might explain more in a separate post when I get home from my grandma’s funeral. As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag!

Ch. 22

Darkness has fallen over Konoha, but this time the early night walk leads Kakashi and his mystery woman ambling down the streets towards the housing reserved for the jōnin and higher-ups who haven’t got their own real estate.

Apparently, Uguisu has been more or less ordered to live in an apartment there and her own reasoning is, as she’s explaining, that it’ll be easier to keep an eye on her. “That way...there’s no need to have anyone assigned to follow me 24/7, like Mitarashi...”

Makes sense – both the arrangement and the fact it’s Anko keeping an eye on things right now. “Is she’s gonna be your warden?”

“I dunno...” They’ve reached the complex on the Academy grounds and she takes the lead up the stairs towards her new home. “I suppose I’ll find out tomorrow if it hasn’t decided already...”

Leaving the staircase and coming to a halt, Kakashi realizes it’s an apartment wedged in between the homes of fellow jōnin. That’s not a coincidence. Handing the stack of books over to free her hands, Uguisu procures a key, unlocks and opens the door, but then holds out her arms for the borrowed goods in a clear but polite hint that he’s not invited inside. Can’t blame you. It gnaws inside him nonetheless, even if the jōnin doesn’t show the concern – he would much have preferred to make sure everything was as it should be indoors before leaving her alone.

“Well,” he nods resolutely, “if you need anything...”

She looks small and sickly in the unnatural light of the outdoor lamp. Dark bags under her eyes are suddenly prominent, the less than completely sincere smile unable of pushing away the grim demeanour. Still...there’s also an air of something calm about the woman. She’s hopeful, and that warms Kakashi’s heart.

“Thank you,” she hums.

He waits til she has closed the door. No footsteps? Perhaps she remains standing just on the other side of that barrier, perhaps it’s just the hopeless imagination of a man in trouble, either way he has to force his legs into action or he would have stayed there the entire night.

...

Among the shinobi comrades, Kakashi is often equalled with tardiness. He knows this. It's never his intention to be late and he always gets up and gets ready in time, but there's one stop he has to make at some point during the day and once there...old friends are hard to say goodbye to. All that remains of them is a memorial build in their (and many others') honour and visiting the site somehow detaches the living from time while granting them a brief respite surrounded by memories. Sometimes the faces of old are smiling. Often, though, the emptiness they've left behind is tainted by bitterness at the evil that stole these people away too soon.

Today was different. This morning, the white-haired jōnin lingered for no more than five minutes before hurrying off to see to his students because he was adamant, the day's training must be finished before the Recruits' classes ended. Needless to say, Team 7 greeted him with stunned silence as they arrived later than their sensei and none of them opposed the day's curriculum either.

"Who is she? Really?"

Kakashi glances over at the black-haired boy who's sitting in the grass with the lunchbox open. "You mean Uguisu."

The two other (yes, even Naruto) stop eating, favouring instead to listen and hopefully have their curiosity satisfied. There's no doubt they will take matters into their own hands and dig around if the many questions aren't answered soon, but...it's not my place to tell anyone and they have no reason to know. Turning the page of his favourite Icha Icha volume, the senior considers his options which could be better because, truth be told, even if Kakashi technically knows more than them, what he can tell will only lead to more speculation. He had hoped for news this morning only to be disappointed at the slow decision making. And the woman at the centre of the uncertainty? She'd left early for class.

"As I said yesterday," he mutters, "she's a friend from far away. She'll be staying here in Konoha and...maybe become one of our shinobi."

Oh yes, the kids are itching to find out more.

"Why does she have to do Academy classes?"

Sasuke is the one to answer the girl. "The Hidden Villages' schools don't teach the same things. If she's from somewhere with a very different choice of subjects then she might not have learned the things we take for granted. Right?" The last part is addressed to Kakashi who merely nods in agreement.

"What was her name?" Naruto has never had a great memory – a trait generally vital to ninjas.

"Minami Uguisu." And it fits her too. "Well! Better get back to work. How's it looking?"

They've been testing out a variety of knots and other rope-works. Some with better results than others.

...

Soon, the open area in front of the Academy will be swarming with kids as they flee from the last lesson of the day either to play or return home, but right now the only sign of life is Hayase about 20 meters up in the tree with his legs dangling lazily.

"Bird watching?" Kakashi calls out to him.

The chunin nods. "And revisiting the boring days from when I was little." He does look like someone who was half asleep only a moment ago – or at least wishing he had been.

"Gonna take her off your hands the rest of the day." Already walking through the front doors, whatever the assigned shadow says remains unheard.

Some of the little students acknowledge Kakashi as they rush past him on their way to freedom once more bu thankfully it isn’t long before the path is clear and the jōnin can enter the classroom without fear of toppling anyone over. Only two people are left: Iruka who’s gathering a wad of papers that probably are assignments, and the blue-haired girl that’s been haunting him regardless of being asleep or awake.

“Ah, I see they got a hold of you,” Iruka smiles at his friend who doesn’t admit he hasn’t been contacted, “that’s good! It seems my work with Uguisu’s gonna be fairly easy.”

The woman in question has joined the two men at the teacher’s dais, her arms laden with the borrowed books and a few pencils. Today, she’s tucked her hair into a messy bun which allows a peek at the curve of her neck. Pretty. It’s hard for Kakashi to focus, but he fights his attention back to the words flowing from the teacher.

“There are...some areas we need to cover, but none connected to the theoretical works of a shinobi.”

“What he means,” Uguisu smiles, “is that I’m a disaster when it comes to math or history, for example.”

Oh? Watching a blush grow and fade rapidly on Iruka’s face, some corner of the white-haired jōnin's guts tighten in protest before the brain catches up with excuses or explanations – all of which are necessary as he hasn’t been able to ignore the distance the woman keeps between her and anyone else. Including him. Less than 48 hours ago, he’d been kissing her, feeling her reciprocate and making his heart sing...then the dream ended and a nightmare unfolded, and now she’s pulled away.

“Well, that’s quickly fixed,” Iruka promises, “however!” He turns to fully to Kakashi at this, slapping a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “As her warden, I hope you’ll remind her to hand in the written assignments regardless of their simplicity and ensure she’s capable of applying theory to the practical training you’ll be overseeing.”

I’m her...? YES! None would have known how happy the revelation makes Kakashi just like they would be ignorant of the fact that he, until this moment, had had no clue of his role in the relation to Uguisu’s potential as a Leaf Shinobi going forward.

“Hai, I’ll keep her busy with studying,” the warden nods.

18 notes · View notes

superlinguo · 4 years

Text

Linguistics Jobs: Interview with a Transcriptionist

When we started Lingthusiasm, I knew that transcripts had to be an essential part of the show. They’re so useful for people who can’t listen, people who would refer to read, and for when I want a quick reminder of what we covered in an interview (they’re also very handy for training a bot to take over the show). A few of us wrangled transcripts for a while, but it’s been an absolute delight having Sarah Dopierala on the team, turning our spoken words into written words.

Sarah and I were at SOAS at the same time, and Sarah was in the same MA program as last month’s interviewee, Exhibition Content Manager Emily Gref. In fact, it was Emily who put us back in touch when we were on the look out for a new transcriptionist. I guess then there’s an extra lesson from this month’s interview; the longer you’re around as a linguist, and the more connections you make, the more interesting pathways your career can take you on (The Helsinki Bus Station Theory for linguists)

You can find out more about Sarah’s research and her transcription work on her website, or follow her on Twitter (@SDopierala).

What did you study at university?

I went to the University of Pittsburgh for undergrad and studied linguistics as my major, with a minor in Japanese. It was a very well-rounded education. I studied many of the “core” topics such as phonetics (where I learned the International Phonetic Alphabet, or IPA), phonology, morphology, syntax, and semantics. I also got to study applied linguistics (which as I remember was an interesting class that overviewed many areas of linguistic application including forensic linguistics and even language documentation, among many others) and had a semester on historical linguistics. One of the most unique classes I took though -- which I don’t remember the name of now -- had to do with conlanging and natural language processing. Super cool. Besides linguistics I, of course, had my Japanese language courses and, since it was a liberal arts education, classes on a variety of other subjects including acting classes, art classes, and a physics class. It was good times.

For my master’s degree, I went to SOAS, University of London for an MA in Language Documentation and Description. This was a more specialized degree and a shorter program (1 calendar year) so my subjects were all linguistics related. For instance, I had classes on syntax (specifically looking at Lexical Functional Grammar), field methods, descriptive linguistics, and applied documentation (I think it was called) where we spent a lot of time discussing practical matters of doing research with people -- ethics, research methods, etc. I did get to do a lot of neat curriculum-adjacent things as well. I was a member of the Sylheti Language Project. We hosted a Sylheti language conference as well as published a Sylheti storybook. I got to attend other conferences as well to practice explaining my eventual dissertation topic -- converbs in Sylheti.

As of now, I’ve been accepted to the University of Frankfurt to do a PhD in comparative linguistics, still focusing on converbs only this time in Northwest Caucasian languages. Funding has been something of an adventure, but I remain hopeful! Besides, linguistics is never too far away. What is your job?

My current job is as a transcriptionist. I freelance making transcripts from audio recordings as my day-to-day, money-making job. Sometimes, I freelance through contracting companies. However, I prefer to work for myself and transcribe podcasts -- especially about linguistics! You may have seen my work via the Vocal Fries Podcast, Conlangery, and Lingthusiasm.

To build my transcription skills I took an online transcription course through Transcribe Anywhere. It took a certain investment of time and money, but you come out of there knowing your stuff and with a network of other transcriptionists to help you. I’m still learning a lot about running my own business (since I suppose that’s what freelancing ultimately is), but I feel confident, and it helps that I’m not completely alone.

As a freelancer, my daily schedule is hardly ever the same and I do tend to break it up even more with travel. That’s what I like about it though. I can do the job no matter where I go. As long as I get the job done well and in a timely manner, I can set my own schedule. It definitely takes a certain level of self-discipline to keep a freelancing schedule, that’s for sure.

How does your linguistics training help you in your job?

There are a couple of ways linguistics training helps me with transcription work -- or perhaps even transcription helps me with my linguistics work. My first introduction to transcription was during my master’s degree. As a documentary linguist in training, I made audio recordings with a Sylheti speaker and, in order to further analyze and archive my findings, I had to transcribe them. The difference of course was the goal. For transcribing podcasts and other material in English, the goal is generally to create a well-formatted document following written English conventions. However, transcribing an audio file for linguistic analysis, in general, focuses more on accurately representing the sounds of the language in IPA without reference to prescriptive ideas of what sort of written representation is “well-formatted.” For now, I’m focusing on readable English language documents but, in the future, I will return to transcription for linguistic analysis. I think my approach to that type of transcription will be enriched by this work.

The two types of transcription complement each other. When transcribing linguistics podcasts, I often use IPA to distinguish between different English pronunciations or even to represent non-English words. Just like I use knowledge of linguistic concepts to analyze linguistic data, I call upon quite a bit of that knowledge when I transcribe podcasts as well to not only identify certain terms but to follow the conversation. Understanding the content of the conversation reduces the amount of times I mishear, stop, rewind, listen again, and certainly reduces the time I spend researching unfamiliar topics. When I don’t understand the content of an audio file, I have a hard time predicting what people will say or what they might say. Being able to predict, to a certain extent, what someone might say plays a huge part in transcription and in general language processing as well. Transcribing these podcasts has also been a great way for me to keep up thinking about linguistics, keep up with what’s happening in the field, and keep feeling like I’m part of the community even if I’m not currently “doing linguistics” as my everyday job. 😊

Do you have any advice do you wish someone had given to you about linguistics/careers/university?

I think I’ve been quite lucky in the advice I’ve received over the years, here are two things that have really stuck with me:

“If you can, study in a different department than your undergrad or masters.”

I have found that working in several different departments has not only helped me grow as a researcher, but it has made me more appreciative of the things I learned in previous departments. There are ideas I may not have been introduced to if I had stayed in one place and many people I would not have met as well. My pool of friends and colleagues has definitely been enriched by getting out of my comfort zone.

“What job do you want to get?”

My undergraduate supervisor asked me this question when I told her about my topic for a PhD thesis. She was of course very supportive of my academic pursuits, but I think this is the first time someone asked me this question in a way that was practical rather than condescending (since not everyone instantly appreciates the worth of linguistic knowledge). I’m so grateful that she did because, up until that point, I pretty much took for granted that I would get a tenure-track job at a great university and do descriptive and documentary research for the rest of forever. Don’t get me wrong, that would be amazing. However, this question made me think. It opened me up to the precarity of academia, the non-guarantee of a well-paying university job, the non-guarantee of any university job for that matter. While I will still reach for that dream researcher position, I am now much more open to other opportunities and other ways of doing what I love.

Any other thoughts or comments?

I’m not (yet) able to completely support myself financially just from transcribing. Like many other freelancing careers, it’s taken quite a bit of time to get myself out there. I do receive help and support from other places. Because of this, I have had the opportunity to spend quite a bit of time learning the trade, reaching out to potential clients, figuring out best practices, etc., while also pursuing my academic dreams, which take their share of time and effort. Perhaps not everybody has this luxury, and I want to acknowledge that as a factor for anyone inspired to consider transcription as a potential career path. However, with some patience, I know that it is very possible to make a comfortable living as a freelance transcriptionist. In fact, I hope that someday transcription can be a main source of income for me as well. In fact, it’s one of my potential “non-tenure” jobs -- especially if it means I can still be close to linguistics! 😉

Recently:

Interview with an Exhibition Content Manager

Interview with a Community Outreach Coordinator

Interview with a Marketing Content Specialist

Interview with a Software Engineer

Interview with a Product Manager

Check out the Linguist Jobs Master List and the Linguist Jobs tag for even more interviews

#linguistics #linguistics jobs #linguist jobs #career #job #careers #work #podcast

142 notes · View notes

the-dubstep-strawberry · 4 years

Text

Top 10 Female Characters

Rules: Name your top 10 favorite female characters from 10 different fandoms and then tag 10 people.

Tagged by @pchberrytea, with many thanks!

Okay, this is going to be good. Let’s see here... this is not and could never be an exhaustive list, but here are ten of my faves off the top of my head. (Warning, may contain *spoilers* for their respective franchises.)

1. Commander Susan Ivanova (Babylon 5)

Second-in-command of the Babylon 5 station. Suffers no fools whatsoever, especially not gladly. Proudly Jewish, Russian and bi. I love everything about her, not least the fact that she’s played by the gorgeous and talented Claudia Christian. Perennial fave of mine. Needs more GIFs of her, there are never enough.

2. Judge Cassandra Anderson (Dredd)

Played by the magnificent Olivia Thirlby, newbie Judge Cassandra Anderson demonstrates to her badass boss that you can be strong, capable and compassionate and that there is no true justice without mercy. Reads minds, kicks ass, passes the Bechdel Test. Even capable of rescuing herself. What more could you ask for?

3. Jill Valentine (Resident Evil)

My zombie-killing heart belongs to Jill Valentine. She was the star of one of my very first favorite games and I just adore her. Strong, smart, just, compassionate and lovely in every way. I will incidentally ship her and Carlos for all eternity (Chris Redfield who?)

4. Morticia Addams

Bewitchingly beautiful, morbidly lovely, full of style and grace. Adored and worshipped by her husband, Morticia is a woman of many talents. She fences, paints, writes, plays the violin, tends to a conservatory of carnivorous plants, makes black the new black, harnesses the forces of darkness, crushes the whole “being a mom” thing, and dances like nothing you’ve ever seen. 100% iconic.

5. Ellen Ripley (Alien, Aliens et al)

World’s best space mom and cat-lover. Wasn’t trained for any of this, but since nobody else was capable of saving the day, she stepped up and made the Alien Queen her bitch. Interplanetary problem? Call Ripley. She’ll kill it with fire. (The franchise did her wrong and we all know it, but she will always be the best.)

6. Rose DeWitt Bukater (Titanic)

A bit of a spoiled brat, I know, but my favorite poor little rich girl was born into an incredibly restrictive lifestyle that she never asked for, or wanted. The hell with table manners and tea parties and privilege - Rose wanted to be free to ride horses, fly planes, and do whatever the hell she pleased, instead of being married off to a jerk-ass millionaire against her wishes to save her mother’s sinking social status. Ironically, the only person for whom traveling on the Titanic was a literal lifeline. Faking her death and starting over so she could live the life she actually wanted is just #goals. (And so, incidentally, is her wardrobe.)

7. Empress Emily Kaldwin (Dishonored)

Empress, assassin, heir to her mother’s throne, and the product of a doomed love affair - Emily is a fascinating young woman, passionate in every way, trying to walk the line between the call of duty and the lure of adventure. Although I usually play as Corvo, who is Getting Way Too Old For This Shit, I love a good playthrough of Dishonored 2 and seeing all the cool stuff that our favorite Lord Protector taught his badass not-so-secret daughter to do in defense of the realm - and herself. We learn along with Emily that her caring and dutiful mother had something of a wild, romantic streak (she hated her own iconic hairdo because she preferred having her hair loose and flowing, and would much rather have been off in a rowboat for a picnic with her beloved bodyguard than sitting through tedious matters of state), and as we get a good look at the young woman who now has to fight for control of her own damn Empire, we can kind of see where she got that passionate, rebellious streak from.

8. Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire)

So you thought Sansa was a spoiled princess who only cared about dresses and sewing and boys? Well, she was at first. Unfortunately she was in for a very rude awakening, and since she isn’t a trained killer like her little sister, Sansa is forced to make etiquette her armor and play politics in order to survive. She endures (amongst other things) forced marriage, political imprisonment, the deaths of most of her family and friends, her own aunt attempting to murder her, a fucking zombie apocalypse in her own back yard, and having to put up with some very creepy bullshit from an older guy who had a crush on her mom (eww). Frankly, giving her a kingdom of her own to rule after all that was the least they could do. Long live the Queen in the North.

9. Edith Pelham (née Crawley), Marchioness of Hexham (Downton Abbey)

Poor Edith! She’s always getting kicked around by her big sister, ignored or taken for granted by her parents, and being disappointed by suitors, who have an unfortunate habit of dying, running away, already being married - and in at least one instance, all three. Fortunately, she learns how to hold her own in the high society “scandal and quiet female rebellion” stakes. Over the course of the series, she eventually finds her own voice and vocation, and ends up bagging the best husband of them all... and she was cemented as my forever-fave when she finally snapped and told Mary what she really thought of her. Good for you, Edith.

10. Mothra (Mothra, Mothra vs. Godzilla, Godzilla vs. Mothra, Rebirth of Mothra trilogy, Godzilla: King of the Monsters, et al)

No list of my favorite female characters would be complete without the Queen of the Monsters! Sometimes she’s on Godzilla’s team, and sometimes she has to show him who’s boss, but no matter how and where she appears, Mothra never fails to steal the show. A literal goddess. Last on this list only because she’s 10/10.

Tagging: @avaleon, @itsmesaberaltered, @falsenostalgia-sundries, @ladynyxeris, @tess-etc, @solesurvivorkat, @scorpio-skies, @pchberrytea, @theartofblossoming and @sharonaw!

60 notes · View notes

capnjay21 · 4 years

Text

A House is Never Still 4/6

Five years ago, Emma Swan disappeared under mysterious circumstances. Killian Jones’ disappearance, well, not so mysterious – given the denizens of Storybrooke all but blamed him for her murder. Drawn back to town by a series of strange events, he soon realises the story of what really happened the night she vanished is beginning to unravel, and what’s more: it isn’t over.

A/N: and here is chapter four! thank you so much for all the support so far, this chapter actually has one of my favourite sequences I’ve written for this fic. but I’m not telling which it is!

again, heaps and piles and many fancy vases full of gratitude for @hollyethecurious for creating this amazing aesthetic, without which this fic would not exist.

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of suicide, canonical character death, and some Spooky Business™.

starting a tiny taglist since I got a request for one, so I am ~tentatively~ tagging a handful of people I think might want to read this - NO obligation to, and feel free to drop me a message to say hell nah if you would prefer! I won’t be offended in any way, shape or form!

@snowbellewells @carpedzem @kmomof4 @optomisticgirl

AO3 | one | two | three

-/-

4 – an unearthly hand

Present Day

The clouds parted for the first time since Killian’s return to Storybrooke on the day he brought Regina to Brooke House, lifting the feeling of grey that had cast its blanket over the town. For days, it had warmed itself in open doorways, prowled after townsfolk around street corners and crept beneath windowsills, and Killian was relieved to be granted something of a reprieve from the fog of autumn in New England.

The house stood, as it had the day before, in the north woods just a brisk, ten-minute walk away from the well-trodden track of the White Pine trail. He didn’t need the faded pieces of string to guide his path to the house anymore, and it had become so present in his impression of the town that he had forgotten that Brooke House, as it looked at that moment, had not always been there.

Regina had stopped twenty paces from the door, expression unreadable but for her parted lips.

It seemed almost unusual to see it in the sparkling sunlight of the morning, like something had been taken right out of it. Here it was white brick and rotted wood and barren, where at night it positively brimmed with something far more than any one person could comprehend. Even at a shell of its normal, terrible self, Regina had taken a little time to process.

“It really is here,” she had said finally. “How about that.”

She said how about that the same way you would say it if you found out an old classmate had gone on to become a movie star, or you discovered your local grocery store was lifting its embargo on branded products.

Not like a house that was sometimes there, sometimes not there, was today, decidedly, there.

It had been a bit more of a laborious journey than he was used to, but Killian’s Chevelle could only take them so far and he had a lot of equipment to bring with him today, cramming everything he could as delicately as possible into his rucksack. Regina, too, had brought a duffle bag full of materials, and Killian could spot the heavy corner of her book of shadows poking out from within, begging to be noticed. The previous times he had visited Brooke House he hadn’t been properly prepared, but this time around Killian was determined to leave the house with something he could quantify, rather than just the deep, sick dread that had left with him every other night.

He had entered the house ahead of her, the novelty of its return long since worn away, and moved into the living room just to the right of the hallway. It was far brighter in the light of day, the long, Victorian windows allowing a brilliant glow from the outside, and Killian could now even spot a few holes near the top of the front wall where the mortar had crumbled away, as dapples of sunlight trickled directly in from above painting yellow specks on the floorboards. Even still, he was not entirely comfortable being there. He walked twice around the edge of the room, every unexpected creak making his heart lurch uncomfortably into his mouth, and even once whispered Emma’s name out into the dust.

Nothing stirred.

Today it was bricks, and rotted wood, and bare.

He was just setting his camera atop its tripod when Regina finally entered, the heels of her boots clicking loudly on the old wood.

“It’s like walking back into high school,” she commented drily, clearly taking in the discarded scarf, the Apollo chocolate bar wrapper. “Is that my Ouija board?”

She looked almost indignant, as if Brooke House were an old friend who had borrowed a CD and never bothered to return it, but Killian wanted her attention focused elsewhere.

“Here, come and feel this.”

He led her by the hand (amid protests) to the centre of the room, a ring of dust slightly newer than the rest just barely visible on the floor. It was the place he had been standing the night prior, when Emma had dug her nails sharply into the back of his jacket.

“Palms out. Doesn’t it feel colder here than the rest of the room?”

Regina looked unconvinced. “Maybe a little.”

“It is,” Killian insisted. “I’m sure of it. Stay right there.” He darted back to his rucksack and pulled out two identical aluminium rods, bent at a right angle six inches from one of the ends. When he returned, he held them out to Regina so she could hold the shorter end, and although she pursed her lips in displeasure, obligingly she took them. “Hold them loosely, like this.” He adjusted her grip to match.

Regina looked unamused. “And what, in God’s name, are these?” She arched an eyebrow. “I better not get struck by lightning.”

Killian returned to where he had been squatting by the camera, tilting the tripod so it could capture the spot Regina was standing in. On the infrared display, she was a warm scarlet and gold storm.

“They’re dowsing rods.”

“You’re joking.”

“Couldn’t be more serious. Hold them steady – like that.” Regina reluctantly obliged. “Tell me if they move.”

Killian had experienced limited success with dowsing in the past – it had been shown to him by a farmer in Iowa who had used it to find buried metals and ores underneath the ground, and admittedly actually had a lot to show for the results. Killian himself had been sceptical, and given how intermittent his own successes were, there was no way to tell if they could be attributed to any real sense of divination or sheer blind luck. Still, he wanted to throw everything in his arsenal at Brooke House.

“I don’t have to tell you about the ideomotor response, do I?” Regina said flatly. “Unconscious involuntary movement. Dowsing is bullshit.”

“Says the woman brewing potions in her living room,” Killian shot back. “I mean it – even if it’s a little, tell me if they move.”

Satisfied with the positioning of the camera, he plugged in his tablet and left it set to record before returning to his rucksack. After some deliberation, he reached for the electro-magnetic field reader he had tried to cushion in the bag with a thick scarf. It was blocky and old, and looked like something that had been lifted from a 60s Star Trek set, but it had become one his most valued instruments over the years.

Regina had been craning her neck to see what he was holding, and once she realised, she let out a noise of frustration.

“Killian, if you wanted an EMF reader I would’ve brought mine – at least it’s not a hundred years old. And that’s clearly a single axis meter.” Single axis meters were notoriously more difficult to use than a tri-axis, as they required significant coordination in order to measure the information recorded across all three axis ,while also trying to move the instrument to gather more data; a tri-axis allowed for much more detailed data acquisition. You could only point Killian’s meter at one thing at a time, slowly, whereas Regina’s could probably handle something far more intricate.

Even so, Killian had far more faith in his own device.

“Believe me,” he informed her, “this is better.”

He could practically hear her rolling her eyes.

“Where did you get all this stuff anyway?”

“Ebay, mostly.”

She scoffed. “You look like a quack.”

Killian laughed. Quack was probably the most positive way Regina had ever described him. “And you’re listening to a quack,” he pointed out, “so what does that make you?” He glanced over to see her still standing where he had left her, holding the two dowsing rods outstretched. It didn’t look like they had moved. “Let me know if they cross.”

He was just tweaking with the settings on the EMF reader when Regina carried on.

“Where’s David today, anyway?”

She said ‘where’s David today’ as if she were enquiring which films her old school friend had starred in, or when branded products would be making their way onto the shelves at her local supermarket. Mild disinterest and a characteristic neutrality. She didn’t fool Killian for a second.

She carried on. “I was sure we’d be joined by the witless wonder in no time.”

Killian had sent David just one text message last night, a simple I’m sorry. David had read it, and not replied. He had to remind himself it was better off this way.

“He’s… busy.”

Regina looked surprised. “It’s been three days. How have you already fallen out with him?”

Killian tried to make his shrug as blithe as possible. “It’s a gift, I suppose.” He could just add David Nolan to the long list of people in Storybrooke who really didn’t want him to be there. Deciding finally that the dowsing rods weren’t getting anything from the cold spot, or perhaps weren’t getting anything from Regina, he crossed back over to her and swapped them for the EMF reader. This was something Regina was far more familiar with, and immediately began spinning slowly in place even as she wrinkled her nose disdainfully at the antiquated design.

“And, why, exactly, are we here?”

“We’re looking for Emma.”

Help me, Killian. Let me out. Please.

He had thought it over constantly over the last day. Maybe those words hadn’t just been spoken by that dark, terrible spectre of the house. Maybe that had been a little of Emma, their Emma, bleeding through. He had to find out for sure if there was anything but darkness left, and these were the only ways he knew to look for ghosts.

“We’re looking for Emma,” Regina repeated, in a strange tone.

It gave him pause, so he turned to look at her. She looked unfairly doubtful, and it made irritation flare within him. “The house is here, isn’t it? Where it wasn’t before. It stands to reason she could be here too. David saw her. So did Ruby. You said it yourself, something is changing. Why can’t it be her?”

He’d seen her, he wanted to say. But something held him back. Something private and longing and scared beyond his wits.

“Why can’t it be her?” he repeated, a little more forcefully when she didn’t immediately reply.

Regina bit her lip, as if trying to work out how best to proceed. She took a few steps forward, the wood underneath her boots creaking loudly.

“You and I both know… Emma wasn’t the only thing there that night. In the dark.”

Black lightning. Her wrist stained red, angry welts erupting across her forearm. Eyes as dark as obsidian.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

A wave of nausea rose within him.

“Is it wise for us to start messing with stuff we don’t understand – again?” To her credit she looked like the suggestion made her almost as miserable as it did him, but her nature dictated she give voice to the thoughts that cut everybody to the quick. “I mean, what if this is something else, just taking the shape of Emma? And appealing to those made most vulnerable by the sight of her?”

So good of you to come and see me.

First David, then him. After all, Mary Margaret hadn’t reported any ghostly sightings, and neither had Regina – and she had practically drenched herself in the supernatural.

Killian shook his head, clutching the dowsing rods tightly.

“But what if it is Emma?” he said finally. The crux of the thing was that he could never ignore her, no matter how sensible the suggestion that he do so. He knew he looked weak, that the confidence he had projected toward Regina since returning to town had crumbled and he must look stupid next to her now, seventeen again and blithering and hopeful beside her world-worn pragmatism. “We have to try.”

He begged her, pleaded with her silently to support him.

Regina was quiet for a long moment, and the EMF reader let out a low zinging noise from where she was pointing it. After a while she sighed.

“Alright,” she said briskly, and Killian visibly sagged with relief. “But I’m going to need much more sage.”

-/-

October 24th – Five Years Ago

“Killian, it’s creepy here,” whined Mary Margaret. “When can we go?”

Emma watched as Killian laughed from where he sat across the room, drawing something onto the floorboards in thick, black marker.

“I’m sorry, Mary Margaret. Just indulge me a little longer.”

Brooke House wasn’t nearly as scary the second time Emma had visited it. They had come virtually straight from school, the sky starting to fade from bright blue to soft pink, but while Emma still didn’t exactly relish the idea of being there after dark, it had lost something of its harshness from the last time she’d been there. Somehow, by bringing Regina and Mary Margaret too, expanding their nervous trio out into a confident fivesome, it took power away from the old walls of the house. Regina had laughed when they showed her the spinning wheel, kicking it into an aggressively fast spin while they all gaped and cried for her to stop. Mary Margaret had removed the sheet from one of the armchairs in the sitting room, declared it looked comfortable enough to sleep in and confidently sat herself down – only for a large spider to creep out of the seams of the cushion, and crawl onto the edge of her dress.

Her shriek had nearly brought them all to tears, and Emma hadn’t been able to move or breathe for laughter for at least ten minutes.

Ever since Killian had asked them all to come to the house, and David had taken great pleasure in informing them it was probably haunted, Regina had been saying she would bring something to match the occasion, and she did not disappoint. Currently she, David and Mary Margaret sat on the floor (the latter with her skirts bunched up around her, casting nervous, fearful glances around for anymore creepy crawlies) surrounding what Regina had called a Ouija board. Emma recognised it only as something she’d once seen on television.

It was an old, polished wood surface ornately decorated, with all the letters of the alphabet and the numbers 0-9 beautifully calligraphed across the top. The symbol of the sun had been drawn in one corner, and a crescent moon in the other. The board came with a planchette, a triangular pointer with a glass circle in the centre to allow you to see the characters underneath. The idea, as Regina explained, was that spirits were supposed to speak through the board, by directing the planchette around its surface to spell out words and wishes.

All three held the tip of a finger on the pointer, and Emma watched with mild interest as it inched across the board. It was all bullshit anyway, but it did add to the atmosphere.

“Mary Margaret, you’re moving the pointer,” Regina scowled.

“I am not,” she replied, affronted. “David’s moving it!”

“I’m not! I swear I’m not!”

Regina brushed her hair from her face impatiently. “At least wait until we’ve asked it a question.”

“Where’d you get the creepy board, anyway?” Emma asked.

“My mom was keeping in in the attic, I found it last year when I was looking for Christmas decorations. She was so pissed when I brought it down, made me put it straight back. I always knew she was a bit nuts.” Regina grinned smugly. “So obviously I had to get it out again now the occasion called for it.”

David cleared his throat loudly, drawing their attention back to the board. “Let’s start.” He raised his voice, projecting it around the room and inserting as much grandiose as he could muster. “Are we alone in this house?” The planchette slid across the board, and David sounded out the letters it landed on. “N… O. It said no.”

“David, you’re clearly moving it.”

“I’m not!”

Leaving them to bicker, Emma turned her attention back to Killian. He had finished what he had been drawing on the floor, and was now scattering salt in a circle around it. Completely entranced in his work, his attention flickered between the salt in his hand and a few battered pieces of paper he had lain flat against the floor. Emma recognised one of them as the one etched with doodles and a few scribbles that they had found in Liam’s toolbox. Somehow, that only increased her feeling of unease.

“Hey,” she said, after crossing the room to sit beside him, hugging her knees to her chest. She was careful not to let her trainers disturb the circle he had made. She also wondered if Archie knew where all the salt at the group home had gone. “You okay?”

He had joked around with them while they let the others explore the house, but had soon retreated to his work. Which, Emma now realised, was a five-pointed star drawn on the floorboards in thick black marker, with each tip touching the edge of the salt circle.

“Yeah,” he replied, flashing her a smile. “I’m almost done.”

Emma bit her lip. “Remind me what it is you’re hoping to achieve? Do you really expect to, uh… summon some kind of ghost?” The look he gave her was unimpressed, but Emma shrugged. He hadn’t exactly given them a lot of clues. “What? I was there with Belle, remember? ‘Do you believe in magic?’”

Emma most certainly did not believe in magic.

The five-pointed star and the circle of salt were telling her something else about Killian, though.

“All I want is to understand. To just – get in his head, I don’t know. He was working on this house for weeks, but it looks like all he did was start peeling off the wallpaper. And why did he go and see Belle? Why did he –?”

Drive his car into a ravine? Emma couldn’t count the number of times Killian must have asked himself that.

He shook his head.

“It has to have something to do with this house. And look, these were in his toolbox.” Killian stepped carefully over his handiwork so he could crouch beside her, showing her the piece of paper, curling at the edges. “He drew the pentagram, right there.” He pointed out an image identical to the one Killian had just drawn on the floor. “I was doing a little research into the symbolism, and a lot of Satanic cults use it for, uh, stuff.” He trailed off unconvincingly, and Emma tried not to look the equal parts amused and creeped out that she felt.

“And like he’s done here, I’ll light a candle at each point. The notes he’s actually written are brief so I just had to interpret as best I can – ‘salt circle’ and ‘curvy dagger’. Did you bring your fishing knife like I asked?”

Emma leant forward so she could reach into the back pocket of her jeans to retrieve it. She held it close to her chest for a moment, thinking about all the comfort it had given her back when she was a kid – in a world where she could control so little, she had liked how powerful it made her feel. The first time she had showed it to Killian was when they were fourteen, and his eyes had grown so round that she hadn’t been able to stop herself from giggling.

After a moment of hesitation, she handed it over.

Another of David’s noisy questions out into the room drew their focus.

“Will I become rich and famous one day? Oh – Y… E… S.” He smirked triumphantly. “Well, better start sucking up to me now guys.”

Mary Margaret laughed. “It’s for talking to spirits, stupid, not predicting the future.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Regina purred. “Will David get a smack if he keeps moving the pointer? Yeah?”

There was a loud thump as she swatted him on the arm.

“Looks like it tells the future just fine.”

“Regina!”

They joined in the laughter with the others, the indignant surprise on David’s face just too funny to ignore; he protested loudly at all attempts of maltreatment, and started entreating the spirits in the house to retaliate on his behalf.

“They think this is a joke,” Emma said quietly, careful to keep her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear her. “Please don’t let it get to you when… if this goes nowhere.”

Killian had started wandering down a dangerous rabbit hole – she just didn’t want him to get hurt.

“Don’t worry,” he assured her, as he started placing candles at the five corners of the star. “Summoning an evil spirit? I have my expectations really low.”

“E…M…M… Emma, it’s spelt your name!” Mary Margaret squeaked.

Emma rolled her eyes, growing more tired by the minute of the game Regina had started. “Cut it out.”

“C…O…M…E.”

David narrowed his eyes at Regina suspiciously. “You’re moving it, right?”

Regina glowered back. “No, you are.”

“Guys,” Killian called over, “I’m ready.”

They left the Ouija board where it was, planchette resting atop the E, and came over to join them in the centre of the room. Killian directed each of them to sit at a point on the star, David and Mary Margaret giggling to each other but trying to keep a straight face, before he followed the line of the circle with some matches, lighting each candle. David jokingly blew on his, causing the flame to flicker wildly, and Emma shot him a warning look.

She only wanted them to take it seriously for a few minutes, just for Killian.

“What exactly are we trying to do?” Regina asked, looking bored as she played at dabbing the tip of the flame with her finger.

Emma had been about to bark a rebuke, but Killian beat her do it with an indulgent grin.

“We’re trying to get results.”

“I think I saw this ritual on an episode of Ghost Hunters,” Mary Margaret whispered excitedly. “See, the wife had murdered the husband, but they found a second body buried under the…” She seemed to sense the atmosphere starting to shift to something a little more sombre, and let her sentence trail off.

Killian stepped outside the circle to take his place at the final point of the star, placing the knife carefully in his lap once he was settled. Then they waited.

For a beat, nothing happened at all. The candles flickered in place, they exchanged uncertain looks. The shadows inside the sitting room had grown longer the closer the sun inched behind the trees, and it made the dappled light from the star in front of them look a little more ominous now that daylight was fading.

Regina huffed loudly. “Now what?”

“Erm,” Killian scratched the back of his neck, “I don’t really know.”

“Maybe we should hold hands?” David suggested quickly.

Emma felt that suggestion was probably more to do with the hand he would be holding than wanting to increase their chances of success – and she knew Killian agreed from the amused glance he sent her, but they consented all the same. Mary Margaret blushed as she slipped her hand into David’s.

Killian’s hand in Emma’s was warm, and a little clammy. It didn’t feel like it had the day of her birthday, when he had walked her back to the Nolan house from Granny’s. They had held hands the entire way, continuing to talk with enough forced nonchalance that they both knew the other was also clearly trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, hiding their smiles with glances out into the road. Then, it had made her feel dizzy with possibility, the gentle move of his thumb on the back of her hand sending her stomach spinning with delight.

This afternoon it didn’t thrill her the same way. She could feel how nervous he was in the slight tremor of his hand, and as she glanced at Regina on his other side she could tell the other girl could feel it too. Whether it was a sense of compassion for him or a desire to just get it over with, Regina slipped smoothly into control.

“We’re talking to the spirit in this house,” Regina said clearly, firmly, looking up into the ceiling. “Are you there?”

They all waited with bated breath.

“Can you hear us?”

All at once Emma was struck by the old, kind face of Belle Gold, wide eyed and fearful.

He found – he found a house, in the woods – and he thought it might make him strong.

Something thumped inside her chest. Like static from a radio, she could hear something crackling at her ear, but every time she turned her head toward the sound it disappeared. Twice she cleared her throat to try and speak but no sound came out. She knew, she knew, but she didn’t know how she knew, and Killian had turned to look at her, concerned, as her hand tightened on his.

“The knife,” she blurted out, and he raised an eyebrow. “It should be in the middle.”

Killian didn’t question her, merely stared at her curiously as he let go of Regina’s hand to slide the knife into the centre of the circle. It clattered against the floorboards before rolling to a stop in the middle.

But it felt – wrong.

“Wrong,” Mary Margaret echoed. Her eyes were closed.

David, too, had shut his eyes, and after Killian had once again completed the circle, Emma did the same. Regina didn’t speak again. Emma sensed she felt the same as she did; they had asked whatever they meant to ask, and it would be cheap to do so again. Only for show. Outside was nothing but stillness, not a sound to drown them out – in fact she had only become conscious of noise in the absence of it, and she now wished she had been playing closer attention to what it was that had stopped dead when they formed the circle.

They had been heard.

“I’m here,” Killian whispered quietly, so quietly Emma couldn’t be sure she hadn’t imagined it. “Find me.”

It had grown colder, gooseflesh beginning to erupt along her arm. Everything began to feel much farther away, as if her ears had popped, and a faint buzzing replaced the quiet that had blanketed them before. Oxygen was taking longer to reach her lungs, like the pressure in the air had changed. She could feel hair rising from the back of her neck and the thought suddenly entered her mind with a shuddering fear that she was about to be struck by lightning.

A rumble sounded from above, the rumble of something trapped beating against impossibly old doors.

The wardrobe.

It was all – wrong.

Come.

Listen.

Static zinged through her grip on Killian’s hand, and they both yelped and broke apart.

“What?” David spoke first, but the other three were all giving them baffled looks. Both Killian and Emma nursed their injured hands with matching grimaces. “What happened?”

“Electric shock,” Killian answered, shaking his hand out. “Bloody hell, ouch.”

“It’s the weather,” Regina offered. “I saw the forecast earlier. It always gets like this right before a storm.” Finally tired of the whole affair, she blew out her candle with an air of finality. “I think we can safely say this house is not haunted.”

Emma was willing her racing pulse to slow, trying to process what the fuck had just happened, but everyone else seemed to be carrying on as if nothing had occurred at all. David was helping Mary Margaret brush cobwebs from her hair while she asked if he wanted to come over to the Blanchard’s for dinner. Regina stood up and began to pack up the Ouija board. Killian stared at the flickering wick of his candle, looking despondent and a little frustrated. All like nothing in the world had taken place.

“Wait,” Emma said, looking around them all at confusion. “Are we really not going to talk about what just happened?”

They all turned to stare at her.

Killian was the first to reply. “What do you mean?”

“The – you know. It went quiet. The, uh, atmosphere.” She realised with frustration that it was amazingly difficult to describe, that breathlessness. The sense of standing on the edge and peering out into the dark. “You said it,” Emma pointed at Mary Margaret, remembering now that the girl had spoken. “You said ‘wrong’.”

Mary Margaret frowned. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.” When Mary Margaret again shook her head, Emma grew indignant. “You did!” She hadn’t goddamn imagined it, so why was the other girl bothering to deny it?

“Emma, she didn’t say anything,” David said cautiously. “Nobody said anything until you guys did.”

When she opened her mouth to retort Killian put a hand on her arm. It made her hesitate long enough for them all to brush past the moment.

“This place is creepy,” Mary Margaret declared, “and I’ve got to get home. David, are you coming?”

As Mary Margaret collected her stuff, David looked torn. Emma merely smiled at him weakly, but nodded her head – he should go. She was just… she was overtired. She probably shouldn’t have stayed up so late the night before studying for their calculus test on Monday. And she was letting the feeling of that house, of Killian’s hopefulness in that house get to her, and she’d let herself get carried right along by something else altogether.

They finished helping Regina pack the board away, but Emma stayed behind to help Killian clear up, promising to see the others at school the next day, and David that night once he got back to Ruth’s. The pair of them worked mostly in silence, using the old bucket and sponge Liam had left and a bottle of water to wipe the black marker away from the floorboards. Even amongst the disrepair of the house, it felt dishonest to leave the markings on the floor.

Or perhaps they just didn’t want to leave any permanent evidence of their being there.

“I believe you,” Killian said quietly. “I didn’t hear her, but I believe you. I think these things have to affect all of us differently.”

And by ‘these things’, he meant the supernatural. Ghosts. The movement of the planchette across Regina’s spirit board.

Things Emma definitely, categorically did not believe in.

Right?

She dismissed him. “You only think I heard something because you want me to have heard something.” It wasn’t true belief in her, it wasn’t because he knew her to be honest or trusted her. It was because something else was what he had come here for, and her ramblings had been his only glimpse of it.

Killian’s wanting, longing, was palpable in his every hopeful inhale.

“That’s unfair.”

Emma chose not to reply.

“What else did you feel? In the circle?”

“Killian, stop.” She made sure her voice was firm. “You promised not to let this get to you. We tried, okay? Nothing happened.”

They had been heard.

“But you said –”

“I didn’t hear anything, alright? Just forget it.” She stalked over to the window and picked up her rucksack. If she said it forcefully enough to him, she could make it just as true to herself. “Do you want to grab some dinner somewhere?”

She knew she sounded irritated, and Kilian didn’t respond, just watched her from the centre of the room. He was not impressed with her brushing him off, clearly wanted to continue down that line of questioning, and was waiting until she felt ready to talk about it. Suddenly irritated with his saintly level of patience, Emma huffed.

“Fine. Stay here by yourself. See if I care.”

Without waiting to see if he would reply, Emma barged out of the front door and stomped down the rotted steps without another word.

-/-

But she couldn’t sleep that night.

Every time she shut her eyes, drifted near enough to something dreamless, images so vivid they felt more real than the bed she lay in assaulted her. Killian’s disappointed expression from the centre of the room, expectant, waiting. The scrape of the pointer across the board. The knife, lying still in the middle of their circle. Firelight flickering. Regina blowing out her candle with a whoosh that seemed to extend for minutes at a time.

The nothing she had felt as she sat and breathed in the circle. That terrible, absence of anything.

She had realised too late that she had left her fishing knife in Brooke House. It was altogether likely that Killian had picked it up, and after a quiet dinner with Ruth she considered going around to the group home to retrieve it from him. Instead, a wave of annoyance had risen in her. If Killian had picked it up, he should have brought it round to her. And after the brief spat they’d had before she left the house, she decided, really, he should be the one putting effort in for her. Her resolve had strengthened, and she had announced to Ruth that she would be going to bed early.

She had lain awake for a few hours, ears pricked for any noise downstairs. David had come home a little later than expected, had spoken with Ruth for a long time before retreating to his own room. Ruth had stayed in the living room for a while, likely catching up on a few chapters of the novel she had been reading, before Emma heard the creak of the stair indicating she, too, had gone to bed. Killian had not come round. Still the night wore on, and Emma found herself no closer to sleep.

Downstairs the refrigerator hummed, and the electric heater on the landing rumbled, with the occasional clank she had grown used to. On her first night, all the odd sounds of the Nolan house had unnerved her. Much like tonight she had stayed awake for hours, worried she would never be able to sleep, certain the Nolan’s would want to send her back before too long, missing Killian terribly. The further her anxiety had skyrocketed, the more restless she became.

Tonight the noises included the sliding pointer, the squeak of Killian’s pen on the floorboards, Mary Margaret’s quiet whisper, wrong.

In Brooke House, something clattered in the attic. The wardrobe doors bumped and groaned.

Emma’s eyes flew open.

Something was trying to get out.

Her heart began to thump wildly.

Come.

Listen.

She threw back the duvet and reached for her trainers.

Which was the last thing she could remember before she found herself stood in front of Brooke House.

Emma stumbled backwards, as if she were just now falling back into her own body and her knees felt weak with the strain of it, and dry leaves crunched underfoot. She was wearing her trainers. She was also still wearing her pyjama shirt and shorts, but had thrown a hoodie and a coat on over the top. Her legs were bare, and cold. In one hand she held a torch and the other was clenched into a fist at her side.

Why had she come here?

Something loud crashed inside the house, a shadow darted across the upstairs window.

Yes, Emma remembered now. She had come for her knife.

She always felt safer with that knife.

Climbing the front steps, slowly, her shoes sounded more muffled than usual. Before she had a chance to touch it the front door creaked open, beckoning her to step inside. She felt foggy, all – all lost, and what time was it, anyway? A dazed search of her pockets told her she hadn’t brought her cell phone. Why had she left without it? Why couldn’t she remember?

The by now familiar creak sounded from the landing. Emma was halfway up the staircase before she remembered setting her foot on the first step.

For a moment she felt Killian’s hand resting on the small of her back again, ready to steady her if she lost her balance, and she began to lean backwards into it – before it vanished and she had to jerk herself forward to avoid toppling down the stairs. Her hand was so tight on the banister that her knuckles had turned white. Right, Killian wasn’t there. Killian was at home, asleep.

Emma was in Brooke House.

The second floor was lit with tendrils of moonlight, dirty white and shapeless, crawling up the walls and stretching across the floor. The creak sounded again, and Emma gently opened the door to the room with the spinning wheel. As expected, the spinning wheel lay turning slowly on its axis by the soft press of the pedal underneath, except this time a man sat there, steadily feeding in pieces of straw until they came out as spun gold twine, which then pooled into a basket at the end. His face was obscured by the shadow of the windowsill, but he raised a hand in greeting before returning to his work.

She shook her head to try and confirm what she was seeing, and realised with a start that the door to the spinning wheel room was closed, and her hand was still poised above the handle. Had she opened it at all? She couldn’t remember. The old wood of the spinning wheel groaned behind the door and, firmly this time, Emma swung the door open inwardly. The wheel spun slowly – but on its own. Gone was the man, the spun gold, the straw. Only the empty dark and the dancing moonlight remained.

An odd noise jerked her attention away from the wheel, just as the light from her torch winked out. Now concerned, Emma smacked it against her palm a few times to try and knock the device back into working, but it did not respond. The sound came again, and to her ears it seemed like –

No, there it was again. She was sure.

It was a giggle.

High-pitched and delighted, something was laughing at her.

“Who’s there?” she said. Or did she?

She might have said: “I’m coming.”

Uncertain which she had said and which she had not said, Emma reached the end of the corridor and stood on her tiptoes so she could begin to scrabble with the door to the attic. The metal ring which would allow her to pull it down was just out of reach, but after she asked politely the panel dislodged from the ceiling by itself, and with it came the ladder. She rose one cautious step at a time, up into the black, and tried to remember why she was there.

Her knife, yes. She was coming for her knife. She had been just thirteen when she took it, lifting it from a set of tools a dockworker had left abandoned while he helped unload a seiner, and it had made Emma feel so dangerous to be holding it that she had immediately cradled it with both hands before making her escape. The blade was deadly sharp, far sharper than any knife she had seen in the group home or otherwise, and she had cut her hand while examining it later.

It had reminded her of herself. All along she had been afraid that one day someone might fall on her, and get hurt on all her sharp edges.

Another banner year, right?

What?

We’ve all got ghosts here.

As she reached the top her pulse began to race, and her heart turned her head and waited for her body to catch up. She ignored the desk, the vials, the shattered glass on the floor; like a string had been tied to the centre of her chest, made of hope and sadness and something wild, it propelled her forward to the darkest corner of the room. There, tucked into the downward slant of the roof, stood the wardrobe. It rattled in place, as if someone were stood behind and shaking it back and forth, and she could feel it.

She could feel it wanting, could feel it longing for her, and she longed for it right back. Breathless and exhilarated, she crossed the room in three short steps and knelt before it, hands reaching for the ornate handles on the doors. Darker swirls of colour spun out from the handles and almost seemed to move, curling delicately around her fingers.

Yes, they whispered, come.

Listen.

Emma tugged open the doors.

Which was the last thing she could remember before she found herself in her bed at the Nolan house, blinking against the hazy light of morning.

Once realisation struck Emma bolted upright, glancing wildly about her room. Her trainers were tucked against her dresser, her coat hung on the back of her door. There were leaves in her hair. Once she registered it was morning she scrambled for the clock at her bedside, which read 6.03am. Almost time to wake up for school.

Had she – had she dreamed it? The house?

It was already beginning to turn foggy and fade, the corners curling in on themselves with greater speed the more she tried to remember, like clutching at the tendrils of a dream that was vanishing out of sight. Everything was as it was.

Except for the knife.

Emma blinked, realising her left hand had been curled around the hilt of a very strange, very ornate knife – no. Dagger.

The hilt was black as pitch, and cool to touch, but the blade was what interested her the most. It’s edge was curved, as if it were blurring in and out of sight in the nature of a mirage, and was ornately patterned with twisting black shapes reaching all the way to its desperately sharp point. It was heavy, and unlike anything Emma had ever seen before.

But perhaps what intrigued her the most was the name emblazoned across it, written in an almost medieval cursive.

Weighty in both heft and emotional damage, Emma could scarcely believe it. What did it mean?

For written on it was a name she recognised. One they were all familiar with.

Liam Jones.

-/-

2nd May 2015 – Seven Months Later

David was the last to arrive by a couple of minutes. Although the air that night was cool, the day had been hot, and he was still dressed in the same t-shirt and shorts he had been wearing earlier. Killian couldn’t be more grateful for the drop in temperature – he could remember a time he had been a fan of the immortal summer, of scorching afternoons and ice cold drinks, it made him think of fly fishing in the lake in the middle of Memorial Park or setting off cheap fireworks by the docks that fizzled and burnt with the whole year’s lost potential. Last year he and Emma had borrowed Archie’s car and driven all the way to Portland, just so they could track down a lobster restaurant a traveller stopping in at Granny’s had told them about. They spent the entire afternoon searching until, tired and hungry, they’d picked up a few sandwiches from a convenience store and perched at the edge of the harbour, watching the boats roll in, and roll away again.

The whole day had been a bust. Killian couldn’t remember it being anything but perfect.

As the days stretched and he found himself looking for her amongst the sun-soaked streets of Storybrooke, summer became just one more thing he wanted no part of anymore.

“Is this going to take long?”

Mary Margaret’s voice jogged him back to the present, and Killian quickly jerked his head around to check nobody else was nearby. They had met at their usual spot, just a little ways into the north woods. Far enough that they would go unnoticed by any stray observer near the edge of the forest, but near enough that the distant sound of cars zooming past on the street could still be heard. Most of them were reluctant to venture any farther in now, if it could be avoided. Especially after dark.

Regina scoffed. “Why, are we keeping you from something?”

“My mom doesn’t like me being out late anymore,” Mary Margaret replied defensively. “I had to sneak out my window.”

“Well, our apologies for the inconvenience.” Unsurprisingly, Regina did not sound that sorry at all.

“Would you just stop?” David groused.

“Guys, please,” Killian interjected, wanting to cut them off before they could start getting too snippy. He turned his attention to Regina. “By the way, are you alright? I hear Humbert gave you a hard time yesterday.”

Regina had been collected from the school gates by Sheriff Humbert, in full view of everyone. He liked them to be observed when he decided to bring them in for another interview; it was one of his favourite tactics.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle,” she shrugged. “It was the same questions as always.”

Why were you out in the woods? When did you see her last?

Is there anything you’re not telling us?

Smooth, long exhale.

Nothing, Sheriff Humbert.

“Good,” Killian answered, nodding slowly. “That’s good. And you, Mary Margaret? Did you get a chance to look for the house this week?”

They had been taking it in turns for the last few months, always making sure that they weren’t spotted together heading down the White Pine Trail, to investigate the place Brooke House had once stood. Ever since the first time they had been caught by Sheriff Humbert there, they had realised the man had started watching their every move in the weeks that followed Emma’s disappearance. Killian, especially, had scarcely been able to get away with taking an unusual route home from school without the sheriff picking up on it. The more time marched forward the less observed they felt, but they still stuck to the same precautions just to be sure.

It had been seven months since Emma had disappeared. Graham Humbert never let him forget it.

And with Emma, Brooke House had also vanished. Nothing stood at the end of the orange string trail Killian had once left anymore, only silence and torment.

Finding it again had to be their best chance at finding her. It was just that these days, finding felt a lot more like waiting.

Mary Margaret hadn’t answered him, so Killian flicked his eyes over. He could see her eyes were averted, jaw clenched. One of her shoes kept stringing up a restless beat on the floor for a few seconds at a time.

“Mary Margaret?”

She let out an almost irritated sigh. “No, Killian, I have not gone looking for the damn house.”

Killian blinked. “And what’s with the tone?”

“I have to study,” she burst, “I have AP tests in two weeks, and if I don’t pass I probably won’t be able to go to college. And instead, I’m disobeying my parents, standing in the middle of the woods and thinking about how much I don’t know about environmental science.”

Regina looked the way Killian felt; completely dumbfounded. “You’re thinking about exams right now?”

“It’s not just exams, Regina,” Mary Margaret insisted. “It’s my life. I want to make something of it one day, and I suggest you do the same.”

Something still had settled between them, as if Mary Margaret had started to lift the lid on something they had sworn to keep closed, and even the night around them was stiffening with anticipation. It was sacred ground on which their harsh words steered them, and it was impossible to discern where the line could be drawn between how to move forward, and how to avoid moving backward. At times they seemed to be the same thing, but somehow it was impossible to think of them the same way.

Emma had wanted to pass her exams too. Desperately, in fact. It had been so important to her that she be able to push off into the rest of her life in better straits than how she had been brought into it, and to that end she had often stayed up long into the night studying at the group home so she could avoid the noise and the steady stream of interruptions that came during the day. It was that which had prompted her to accept Ruth’s offering of a fostering, even after deciding long ago never to hand her heart out again to somebody she was sure would just return it later.

Killian had encouraged her; he had hoped she might find more at the Nolan house than a quiet place to work, and she had. She had found David, and with David came Mary Margaret, and Regina had fallen in as easily with them as she had with Killian and Emma years earlier. They had been a haphazard band, and for a year everything was warm and gold.

That was over now, and they had begun to splinter.

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

He heard her, always. Always, always.

“What about Emma?”

It was David who spoke, and he looked stricken to have even needed to say the words.

What about Emma? Was holding onto this, meeting clandestinely in the middle of the night to yet again swap how little progress they had made in getting her back – was this moving forward? Or was this trying so desperately not to move backward that they couldn’t keep their focus on anything ahead? Brooke House was never there when they looked for it. But Killian didn’t care about school, anyway. He’d had enough credits to graduate at the end of his junior year, before all of this. Every AP class he’d taken he had since dropped. Archie had barely been able to convince him to go to school for much of the year.

It didn’t matter to Killian, not a whisper; but was it okay for this to matter to someone else?

“Emma is gone,” Mary Margaret said, quietly. As if scared that they might hear her and yet desperate for them to. “And it’s…” She sucked in a sharp breath before continuing. “It’s devastating. But it’s – it’s been seven months. We have nothing. And more importantly, the police have nothing.” Killian could tell from a subtle movement in her fist that she was trembling. With fright, anger, sadness. Who could know for sure? “Finding Emma, if she can be found, should be up to them.”

Killian felt as if he’d been slapped. “How can you say that?”

“It’s their job, isn’t it?” she bit back. “And the more I think about that night… the more we feed into that – that hysteria, or – or whatever we thought we saw – the less help we’re being to them. The police, I mean.”

Killian felt his temper rising. He knew what he had seen – they had all seen it, although for reasons Killian couldn’t fathom, it had become a matter of spirited debate between Mary Margaret and David, and he and Regina.

“We never should have lied,” Mary Margaret continued firmly. “We should have told them everything from the start, about the house, about all of it.”

“They would have told us we were crazy,” Regina pointed out. “Hell, I would have called you crazy if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

“But at least I wouldn’t feel like this!” Mary Margaret’s voice cracked on the last syllable, and the bite in her expression had crumpled. She was all melancholy, draped in it like an old cloak, where in their group she had always been warmth. Everything was twisted now, like none of it could ever be light again. “Like I have this weight, poised above my head, and I’m just waiting for it to – to fall and crush me. And it hurts.” She clutched at her throat, eyes wide and sad. “And I’m breathless, and scared. All the time. And sometimes – sometimes I don’t realise I’ve forgotten that it’s there, but then I look up –”

David had taken a few steps closer to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. She curled into it and buried her face into his chest for a few moments, shaking, while he murmured something neither Killian nor Regina could hear. They couldn’t find the words to interject.

After a few long moments she gathered herself, her fist clenching into David’s shirt.

“It’s this lie,” she said fiercely, speaking into the solidness of David’s form, sounding as wretched as she looked. “And this feeling that if – if we’d just told the truth then they would have found something, and they would have found her.”

The accusation was softly cushioned, and gently aimed, but Killian felt it with the keen force of any blow.

“They wouldn’t have found her,” he answered evenly. They couldn’t. “It’s up to us.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Of course you would say that.”

Killian’s temper flared. “Excuse me?”

“It clearly doesn’t bother you, Killian, but I’m just saying – if I could do this again I wouldn’t lie.”

I wouldn’t tell the lie you told me to tell.

The lie he had told them tell to protect them.

Humbert’s hard expression flashed in front of him.

Your friends say she was with you when she went missing. That you were the last one to see her.

“I wouldn’t either,” David added quietly.

Disbelief marred everything, it made everything black as tar – was this really what it was all coming to? Rounding on him?

“And what would you have told them?” Killian shot back. When David grimaced he pressed on. “No, really, I’m interested to know what you would have told the sheriff about the haunted house and the magic dagger.”

“Stop that,” Mary Margaret snapped, “it’s not magic.”

“Then how the bloody hell do you explain it? Explain this?”

With intent, Killian reached into his jacket and pulled out the dagger. Its curving edges glittered dangerously in the dim light, and in a movement so quick he might have imagined it he thought he saw Regina reach out a hand to take it, before snatching it back. The intricate pattern engraved onto the blade was one he had memorised from long nights spent staring at its edges, begging for it to reveal its secrets. The inky black writing crafted beautifully on top spoke of everything they had lost – the truth they all knew, and the only tangible proof that forces greater than themselves were at work.

The name carved across it was clear: Emma Swan.

Like a spell, it brought with it an almost supernatural quiet. Mary Margaret had begun to weep silently, and she shrugged away from David’s touch this time. Regina watched but did not speak. David couldn’t bear to do more than glance at the dagger, a pained expression on his face clear before he turned to look out into the forest.

“This is how we know she’s still out there,” Killian insisted fiercely. “We can’t give up now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

For a little while, the only noise was Mary Margaret, trying to suppress a gasp or wiping her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. After some time, she sank down to perch on a nearby log and Regina joined her, threading their fingers together tightly. In the distance Killian could hear the rumble of the road, the sound of an engine increasing in volume before skittering away. Although reluctantly, he slipped the dagger back into the inside pocket of his jacket, and the blade was cool against his chest even through the fabric of his shirt. A cold comfort, but a comfort all the same.

“The truth is,” Mary Margaret began quietly, staring at the mossy ground at their feet. “I want to grieve. I loved Emma. I want to treasure her memory… I want the chance to miss her.” She lifted misty eyes and looked at each of them in turn. “But it’s impossible around all of you. For you she’s still here. But I want to keep moving forward.” She brushed a hand across a tear-stained cheek. “Will you – will you let me do that?”

With quiet strength, she dug the stake into the earth. Beneath it, they cracked.

She stood. There wasn’t anything else to say.

She looked impossibly guilty, and Killian searched for something to say that would deliver her from that, but all of it felt brittle and fake. The honest truth was that he loved her and wanted nothing but her happiness, but he might never forgive her if she walked out of that clearing now.

Mary Margaret looked to all of them, but it was Killian’s gaze she sought most eagerly. He couldn’t give it, staring stonily at the ground instead.

“I’ll… I’ll see you.”

She didn’t say at school, since he wouldn’t be going anyway and they both knew it. Recklessly, he thought that without it there might not be another excuse for their paths to cross. If she wanted to keep moving forward and leave all this in the past, then Killian would not be going with her. Dry leaves crunched as she departed, slowly receding until the only sound was the breeze whistling by.

“I’m not giving up. No way.”

It was Regina who had spoken, and Killian felt a wave of unreserved tenderness for her.

Her face softened, and she stepped over to lay a gentle hand on his arm.

“She’ll come around.”

She wouldn’t, but it was easier to pretend.

After Regina had gone Killian sat on the damp earth underneath him, leaning his head back to stare through the canopy. The trees had clustered together here, dark shapes towering over through which he could spot the stars winking in and out.

David shifted from where he stood. “Are you okay?”

Killian let out a long breath, one that he felt like he had been holding onto for a number of days. His chest felt tight, and he could feel a familiar tugging sensation behind his nose as the stars started to swim before him.

“Belle died. Yesterday.”

David let out a soft expletive. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

“It was peaceful,” he nodded to himself, like it made everything fine. “In her sleep.”

Belle had been a great source of comfort for him. She talked in circles and remembered very little, but she remembered Liam and often asked after Emma, and had lived a deep and fulfilling life she loved to tell him about. It did her good to talk, the nuns had said, which was why they let him come. Every character in all of her stories was long gone now, but it didn’t cause her any pain. She spoke only of the joy in having known them and the colours with which they had brushed her soul. It didn’t matter how lonely it looked now, or how sad everyone else thought she must be to be alone; she had assured him many times that she was lucky, and wanted for little else.

He wanted desperately to feel like that, even if only for a heartbeat.

Sometimes, she had said with a smile, the best books have the dustiest jackets.

“It just feels like everything is slipping away.”

Mary Margaret, Belle. Liam. Emma. Everything he touched was dust.

Don’t tell me – it’s hot cocoa, with cinnamon, and you’re about to hand it over.

A hot tear spilled down his cheek and he angrily swiped it away.

He cleared his throat loudly, mostly to try and cover the sudden rush of emotion, but he knew that David had seen it. “Sometimes I can’t help but think… maybe it’s all in my head, you know? The more I think about that night the hazier it gets.” Like trying to remember a dream after you’d woken from it, every single day more details faded into nothing. “I just hear her.” That final, startled scream. It would never leave him, he just knew it. “All I can hear is her.”

Killian – Killian, don’t –!

“Me too,” David admitted quietly. “I hear it too.”

“I’m leaving,” he said suddenly, and with the confession came a twinge of relief, and he forgave himself a little more for it. “Right after graduation. I have to find an answer, and there isn’t one here.”

He’d go as far as needed, for as long as it took. He’d walk the stretch of the Earth if he had to.

For a moment David looked crestfallen, but he mastered it quickly. “I understand,” he said. And he might think he did – but David would never be looked at the way Storybrooke looked at Killian. In their eyes he would never be blameless, not the way the David Nolan was. Emma was his sister; she was just Killian’s victim.

“I’d go too,” David continued, “but my mom… it’s just hard, you know? I feel like there’s so much she doesn’t know. And I couldn’t…”

“I know,” Killian assured him, “it’s alright. I wouldn’t ask you to come.” It was something he would rather do alone.

A few moments of stillness passed, before David let out a low whistle.

“So. Right after graduation, huh?”

Killian nodded. June twenty-third, 18:00.

There was a bus to Augusta that he had promised he would not miss.

-/-

Present Day

As night fell, Killian again returned to Brooke House.

He had already spent much of the day there with Regina, taking readings, burning herbs and mumbling variations on familiar incantations from her book of shadows. There were a few key vocabularic differences, but the intention behind a few spells seemed similar to some he had seen from the coven in Pennsylvania. Just once they had let him sit in on a cleansing ceremony, a practice of healing for the soul, and he could recognise some of the actions as Regina guided him through a ritual for cleansing the air in the house. Smudging, she called it. But by the time they had departed in late afternoon, visibly nothing had changed within the house.

After grabbing a quick bite at Granny’s Killian had spent the remainder of early evening categorically working through all the other data he had been able to gather over the course of the day; and not one instrument had indicated anything outside of the realms of a normal abandoned house. In fact, most of the anomalous readings one could expect from a long period of constant use (a sudden spike in electromagnetic radiation, a noise in static on a recorder where there had been none aloud) were completely non-existent. Brooke House was as silent as the dead other than the sounds he and Regina made. It were as if they were measuring nothing at all.

No doubt, that was its intention.

He expected much to be different in the dark.

Again, he left the dagger rolled up in his scarf in his car, not wanting to bring it any closer to Emma – or to whatever Emma was. They were clearly linked, the spectre of the house and the dagger, and he had to believe that somewhere buried in there was his Emma. She retained the same memories, even if she warped them for her use. She recognised him. It was her name on the dagger.

He had taken the dagger to three different psychometrists over the years, seeking insight. Each one had only been able to tell him that its origin was evil, that its master was lost.

Even Killian could have surmised that much.

“Emma?” he called, as he stepped over the threshold. Only creaks of old wood answered back.

He lingered briefly in the sitting room, checking his old tape recorder that he had left running, tucked under the sheet of one of the armchairs as gently as possible. He wanted to avoid the possibility of muffling any sound while also trying to prevent its detection from any nefarious spirits that chose not to make a sound while he and Regina were there. All he needed was some kind of proof that something in the house moved when it was left to its own devices. In the morning he would return for it and listen for any erroneous sound.

As if reading his thoughts, an audible thump came from above him. He headed back out into the hall. For now, Killian decided to pocket the recorder and return it after he’d come to say what he meant to.

Again Killian called Emma’s name, mounting the stairs slowly. Once he reached the top he spotted the flash of white fabric trailing along the floor, disappearing into one of the rooms on the landing. Aside from the room with the spinning wheel that never faltered, Killian hadn’t spent much time in the other two rooms. One was a bedroom and the other a study, boasting only a desk and a wall lined with ancient, brittle bookcases, the tomes atop them turned grey with age with faded and illegible titles. It was into the study that he had seen her go, so Killian opened the door cautiously so as not to startle her away.

The bottom shelf of the bookcase nearest the door had collapsed, the books falling into a haphazard clump onto the floor. A dust cloud still lingered so he imagined it couldn’t have happened too long ago; he wondered if that was the noise he had heard from downstairs.

Emma stood with her back to him, the rustle of pages the only indication that she was moving. Then, without warning, she swung her right arm back and hurtled the book against the wall. The binding tore with a snap, and in pieces it clattered down onto the ground. Killian, reluctant to become a target for one of those heavy missiles, cleared his throat to announce himself, but quickly tucked the tape recorder subtly into one of the bookcases as he did so. He didn’t want her to catch it on him.

Emma turned, her jade eyes sharp in the gloom. As always, they cut right through him.

“Have you decided?” she said, her voice as heavy as stone.

Killian didn’t answer immediately, but tried to look at her more critically. What was he seeing? Just what he wanted to see, or something more?

Regina’s warning repeated itself over and over. What if this is something else, just taking the shape of Emma? And appealing to those made most vulnerable by the sight of her?

“Why didn’t you show yourself to Regina?”

They had been at Brooke House all day, there was ample opportunity. Not a creature had stirred out of place, as if the house had been holding its breath and waiting for them to leave. That meant one of two things – Emma did not think Regina could help with what she wanted, or there was nothing of Emma to show.

Emma lifted a shoulder in a half shrug and turned back to the bookcase. She picked up another book, and began lazily flipping through its contents.

That, too, found itself tossed to the edge of the room.

“I didn’t feel like it.” She reached for another.

“Come here,” he said, before he felt he’d truly made the decision. “Let me look at you.”

She turned slowly to stare at him; it was clear in her expression that she was unaccustomed to receiving orders, and was flirting with the idea of being furious, or going along with it. Keeping her eyes locked on his she discarded her final book, letting it flutter onto the floor, and started to walk towards him. It felt distinctly like being stalked by a predator, and he resisted the urge to step back when she came to a stop in front of him, looking up.

Instead he steeled his resolve, and lifted his thumb and forefinger to her chin. Her skin was glacial to the touch, pale and smooth. Like marble.

Applying a little pressure, Killian turned her head first to one side, then to the other. She allowed him, her eyes continuing to follow him intently. Up close, she looked human. With a little more colour in her cheeks she would look just like he remembered her. Would it even be possible, he wondered, for him to conjure up something so near to perfection? Was he capable? Could he really have imagined this?

“I’m so sorry,” he sighed sadly, brushing his fingers along her jaw, stilling them when they reached the tip of her neck.

Emma tensed underneath him. “What for?”

The list was unending.

“All of it.”

Something flickered across her expression, but it had moved too quickly for him to notice it. A blackened petal dropped from the circlet around her head, and became tangled in her hair. Without thinking, Killian gently tugged it loose.

“You don’t need to be sorry.”

A cold hand came to rest over his. Then, to his surprise, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes and leaned forward. Too shocked to move, Killian froze in place as she reached him. Like the rest of her, her lips were icy to touch, and moved gently against his like the purl of the ocean against the sand. His eyes stayed open but he could see hers had fluttered closed – she looked unarmed. Gentle. Like a girl.

She pulled back because he did not know how to keep her, and he could feel now that he was trembling. He was cold, his heart ached with grief, and he was furious.

That was a kiss that he had been saving, and she had taken it.

He opened his mouth to rattle off a rebuke, but something in her manner had changed. Her brows had knitted a little closer together, her lips parted – even her eyes looked as if they might have dulled from their usual startling shade.

Recognition fluttered across her features. She blinked slowly. “Killian?”

Killian’s heart began to hammer against his ribcage. Hope stuttered to life with every beat, but he tried to remain cautious. Something was different, he was sure of it, and now he wished he had been paying closer attention to her before so he might able to more clearly see now what had changed.

He watched her warily. “Emma?”

It happened in painfully slow motion. Her eyes glazed over, she turned herself away, something that had been out of alignment clicked back into place. In an almost unnatural way her head tilted, and began to stare at him with those new, wide eyes.

Her lips curled in a snarl. “That’s enough of that.”

A rush of air blew past him and she was gone, but Killian, exhilarated and almost breathless, couldn’t let her go.

“Wait, I –” He caught her in the hallway, her hand resting on the door to the spinning wheel room. She whirled around to face him expectantly, eyes ablaze. “I’ll do it. I’ll help you.”

The corner of her mouth curved upwards, a smirk rising into place.

Killian swallowed. He’d been at her mercy since the moment he laid eyes on her.

“Just… tell me what you need me to do.”

#jay writes #a house is never still #cs role reversal #cs fic #cs ff #captain swan #cs au #cs halloweek #gonna go ahead and still tag those #killian jones #emma swan #I hope you guys like this!#also those on the taglist must feel free to tell me to jog on #hahaha

33 notes · View notes

lennox-levin-little-lilith-did · 4 years

Text

Hi again people who follow me!

I’m bored and I’ve decided to make fun facts about our DID system and the four known alters!

So before I start- Lilith has a bit of a show today, but the body was too tired for her to start anything. Like I feel asleep as soon as I got to class. The reason I know this is because of my outfit and she decided to put on lip gloss (which I never wear personally). She’s not conscious currently, none of the other three are, and I’ll get to that later!

Oh! And just so you know, this is Lennox.

👋

Let’s start with Levin!

Levin is the alter that co-cons often or will switch with me

He knows a lot about our system, but is very secretive about it so~

He is the only male alter in the system that I know of

He also goes by Levi and Lev

He likes more soft songs and songs with a good message

His favorite color is forest green

He’s the only alter that Lilith does not take her anger out on

He’s an introvert with really bad social anxiety

He hates sexual songs (so of course being me, I put two of the worst sexual songs I know in his playlist, he doesn’t know)

He has insomnia and ptsd

He’s extremely competitive when it comes to card games

He likes educating people on animals and wants to do gigs, like birthday parties and events, to teach people about reptiles and birds specifically

His favorite subject is English

He is white with blue eyes and dark brown hair. He’s thin, well more twig like, but whatever. He’s around 5’8 (two inches taller than the body)

His clothes style is baggy shirts with either baggy sweatpants or leggings. He wear plain colors, like pale blues, grays, and black. He, surprisingly, likes boots, even heeled boots

His favorite anime is... probably Durarara x2 any season

He has no sexual desires, but romantic likes girls

He’s 18

He’s very comfortable singing, he loves it. That a major way he expresses himself

His favorite song is... I think LA Devotee by P!ATD (idk why but that what he likes)

^^ What he likes to wear ^^

Next on our list is

The demon queen herself, LILITH

She is named after Adam’s first wife, the demon queen, Lilith (yes she liked to go church, but we stopped going)

She is a bisexual

She’s ageless (she has no age, or if she does she hasn’t told anyone)

She’s an absolute bitch and she knows it.

She has violent mood swings and anger issues (respectfully so)

She is also an introvert, but not because of anxiety, no it’s because she wants to strangle every single person that looks at her weird

She hates Little with the burning passion

She gets repressed the most because no one wants to be expelled from school

She likes cooking

She hates cleaning because of her ocd

She wants to pursue a culinary job

Her favorite subject is science

She rarely fronts and when she does it’s quick or someone is co-con with her (ex. What happened with aleia-clownery)

Lennox(me) has to clean up her messes as always.

Her favorite anime is... The Promised Neverland (she likes Ray a lot)

She likes aggressive songs, or songs that swear a lot

Lilith has wavy black hair with blue highlights. Her eyes are a brownish red color. She’s short, like 5’2, and likes to wear heels because of it. She’s black as well

Her favorite color is dark royal blue

Her style of clothes is black shirts with skulls on them and tight, but comfortable, pants. She also likes a certain denim dress I have

She likes drawing and doodling ways to kill people and I have to say she’s pretty good

Her favorite song is Sarcasm by Get Scared (very fitting for her)

^^ What she wishes she can wear ^^

Next is Little!

She likes to bake

She enjoys going to restaurants, specifically Asian style ones

She’s loves animals and wants to work with them so bad.

She’s an extrovert with ADHD

Little is Hispanic and on the chunky side. She has a caramel skin tone. She can understand it way better than me (Lennox) and she wants to learn Japanese and French (I’m interested in Japanese so we’re probably going to learn it)

Her favorite subject was College Writing Prep and before that was Language Arts, but the writing part of it. She really likes writing

Her favorite color is... honestly black. She likes that it matches with everything and likes the science of black too

Her favorite anime is Ouran High School Host Club (I hate it with the burning passion) her second choice is Black Butler (any season) which we allow her to watch

She likes baking and cooking, tho she prefers baking, she likes the way it calms her, I guess

Her favorite song is Voices in My Head (she listens to a lot of nightcore so I don’t the artist)

I’m not saying much else about her (I don’t want creeps harassing her)

^^ What she prefers to wear ^^

Last, and certainly least, Lennox (aka me!)-

My favorite anime is Kakegurui or... BNA... or BNHA... or Hitorjime My Hero (My Very Own Hero)... or maybe Given? Idk I like a lot of anime...

The first anime I’ve ever watched was Wolf’s Rain. I was seven I think, but it was on YouTube so I didn’t get to watch the whole thing. I recently found it, but I’m afraid to watch it lmao

I like the colors teal and turquoise, as well as blood red and jet black

I like anything P!ATD, Halsey, Imagine Dragons, Fall Out Boys, Set It Off, Alec Benjamin, OneRepublic, and Nico Collins and AJR(granted so does everyone else but 🤷)

My favorite songs are Control by Halsey and Lonely Dance by Set It Off and Don’t Threaten Me With a Good Time by P!ATD and River by Ed Sheeran and Eminem and Not Afraid by Eminem and I’m Ready by AJR and Karma by AJR... I can go on for hours, but I’mma stop here

I’m Non-binary and the only gender nonconforming alter. I’m also pansexual

I hate being touched, I hate talking to people that act ignorant, and I hate this body I’m in

I look like the body so no description for you 😝

I have anxiety and depression. Everything else I’ve been diagnosed with can really be related to DID

I’m a neutral party in everything, so when I say I don’t know, I don’t care, whatever, or not my business, I’m literally saying I have no standing or opinion in this

I like cooking, baking, organizing (not cleaning), writing, reading, doodling, and doing self introduced projects for fun

I like plaid clothing, hoodies, and pride shirts. I like sweatpants and sneakers. I also like things on my neck... it keeps me ground I guess

(Oh my god I’m writing this with Ella, right? I told her to stop clawing at the furniture, right? All of a sudden her focus is on the ground and I wiggles my toes, testing if she was looking at my feet, and I started moving them around. I told her, ‘stop looking at my feet.’ This cat, this puta, liked me in the eyes before looking back down and got in position to lunge at my feet. My heart stopped and I pulled my feet onto the couch. And she was going to do it because the moment I moved my feet, she jumped from the top of the couch she’s on... she scares me sometimes 😣)

^^ What I would wear if Lev was a little shit and let me wear pride stuff and jewelry ^^

Now-

Onto how our system works!

Levin and I co-con often. If I’m not in control, then he is

On instances where I get angry, Lilith takes control

Little co-cons with me more than everyone else because she enjoys annoying me

Lilith and Little are both so stubborn and hardheaded, it’s unbelievable. On the other hand, Levs and I are open minded and calm. So we often clash on what we should do as a collective

Lilith is a Christian, Levi and I are atheists, and Little is a Seventh Day Adventist (the religion I grew up with). However Lev and I hold more say, so we don’t go to church

I guess you could say there’s a hierarchy in the system. I have the most important say, then Lev, then Little, and lastly Lilith

Levin and I enjoy co-conning with each other only, anyone else gives us headaches

Everyone loves Nico Collins, Alec Benjamin, Set It Off, and AJR the most

Everyone’s favorite albums are Death of a Bachelor (p!atd), Cinematics (set it off), and American Beauty/American Psycho (fall out boys)

Everyone loves sushi and sushi rolls (California and Philadelphia rolls are the best)

We all really want to try takoyaki and pork Katsudon. When we do try them, I’ll probably make a post about it

We all love Ella and we all want to start a rehabilitation center of all animals and a pet cafe

We love reptiles, like all reptiles, venomous snakes included

I think there are more alters that just aren’t as prominent as the other three, Levin would know but he doesn’t like to discuss our system often

We really want to buy these specific no pierce cuff earrings

Edit: this total slipped my mind- when I’m on my red week (you know what I’m talking about) the others let me deal with it on my own, especially Little and Lev (Lev hates that week and recedes completely)

That’s all I’m willing to share about us (or that I remember)

My part was short because you guys talk to me all the time

Sincerely,

Lennox... with a sprinkle of Levin

I’m tagging some people because why not-

@one-pissed-off-child @liveto-100 @madame-ree @martinidrinkingmartin @anon-nom-nom95 @queenzie-xo @scalybunnypapi69 @gogetyoselfsomesoup (still bitter) @cristinaweeb @aleiakit @aleia-clownery (I’m still so sorry about what happened) @studiesboie @bloomyboithatemoji @pumpkineiji @penelopebakugouburrito1

10 notes · View notes

gallickingun · 4 years

Note

You're one of the first blogs I found coming into the fandom and lemme just say your writing is freaking amazing!!! 💕😍 As a new writer going into the fandom, do you have any tips and tricks you wish you would've known when you first started?

Ah, thank you so much! I’m so happy to have been one of your firsts! 💖

Hmmmmmmmmm, let’s see. Honestly, mainly connecting with people! I was scared shitless of @lady-bakuhoe until I started talking to her and realized she was a dweeb. But the chances are, your “favorite writer” isn’t nearly as scary, or busy, as you think they are. And most of the writers in this fandom are really kind, and just want to see others succeed!

Recognize that you aren’t a bother, not a burden. And if someone sees you as such, then it’s likely you didn’t need to bother with them in the first place. Find and cultivate friendships that will encourage you and push you to do better, to always hone your craft and expand your vocabulary! I’m really lucky to know the people I know (looking at you @k-atsukidayo) and they are ever so graceful in helping me, reminding me that I’m not a total garbage person all the time.

Use the tagging system correctly, and spell their names with the additional letters like it is in the manga/japanese versions. You won’t get nearly as many people to notice your fic if you call him “Bakugo” in the tags. And if you want to write it as Bakugo or Shoto in the fic, then feel free to do so, but make sure you add the ‘u’ in the tags! When people are browsing, those are the tags they go for, i.e. bakugou katsuki x reader and todoroki shouto x reader. Recognize that it’s your FIRST FIVE TAGS that count. So make sure it’s those that you are most impactful with. And also realize that tumblr’s algorithms are garbage and sometimes it doesn’t even matter how you tag it, so take that how you will.

Just. Keep. Writing. And don’t be afraid to try out the “minor” characters, even if you don’t fully understand them. Trust me, no one does. Does anyone know exactly how Kaminari would be with a girlfriend? No! No one really knows how any of these kids would be with a significant other, not truly. Which leads me to my next point-

Don’t worry too much about OOC. We can guess based off of their personality traits that are displayed to us in the show and the manga, but we don’t know every character to their fullest and truest selves, only Horikoshi knows that. Now granted, we know that Bakugou has a temper and Todoroki is a little shit, but we don’t know what kinks they’d have or whether or not they’d be into PDA. Make those guesses for yourself, and write the characters in a way that makes you feel good, feel comfortable. I don’t prefer Bakugou to call the reader a “dumbass” every line, so I don’t have him do that. Instead, I sprinkle it in here and there when I feel he thinks he needs to pretend to be tough. But that’s my own preference and therefore my own decision.

DON’T WORRY ABOUT NOTES. Seriously. Especially with COVID going on, there are so many more silent readers now than before. Just keep writing, regardless of notes, because even if it’s not popular on tumblr, it should be popular to you. And I promise that someone, somewhere, is reading your content, whether or not they’re telling you about it.

If you’re looking for interaction, and you’re of age, I would suggest to add the word “thirst” to your blog description. You can see thirst on Jo’s blog - it’s just short, rambling types of drabbles/blurbs about certain kinks or situations but it gets people interacting and also allows you to do short spurts of writing. That’s not really my thing because I’m a whore for worldbuilding, but there are others (like @kamehamethot) who do a great job of it!

I think those are most of my troubles, from what I could remember. I was always too worried that I didn’t know enough about each character, but I said screw it and wrote Moving Target before I’d even watched the show, and the piece did really well. It just goes to show that you don’t have to have read every manga page or listened to every dialogue snippet from the show to write these characters. And don’t be afraid to tag people either! Some blogs may not like it, but others are really just looking for more content! And I love getting tagged in stuff, even if it’s not my cuppa tea. If a blog is uncomfy with you tagging them, chances are they’ll either ignore your posts or reach out to let you know! And don’t take offense to that - each person is in charge of their own experience online, and if they want to adjust their experience by hopping off/on your tag list, it’s your job to respect that.

Most importantly - don’t react to hate. Just don’t, man. It’s not worth your time and energy. If an ask makes you uncomfortable or you smell that it’s going south, just delete it. What are they going to do to you? It’s tumblr, bruh.

Oh - AND THAT BRINGS ME TO THE ACTUAL MOST IMPORTANT THING. If you don’t like it, don’t write it. Even if it was a request. If you’re not feeling something, chances are it’s gonna show in your writing. Readers sending in requests will understand if a certain situation doesn’t strike your fancy. I tend to leave my requests in my inbox in the hopes that eventually they’ll excite me, but others just delete them. It’s your blog, your experience, so don’t be afraid to do whatever it is you need to do to make it the best.

I hope that helped! Please feel free to message me if you need more help! And tag me in anything you write! except deku, that damn nerd.

28 notes · View notes

btxtreads · 4 years

Text

ANOTHER TAG ASHJHJASD

extra long tag game (aka a tmi that no one particularly cares for)

tagged by @txthearteu

tagging @markhyucknorenminchenji @qtsoobin @beomberry @txtdiaries and other people who wanna do it idk

ONE

tell me the first song that made you stan your current fave group and why did your faves attract you so much?

of course, none other than king943 hSJADJSAJHAS. He’s a little secret I’ll let you all in on: the first person I actually noticed in TXT was,,,,,,, Kang Taehyun hSDHJAHJSDAHSA but he wasn’t my bias. I just thought he was cute (also amused me bc my BTS bias was Taehyung and I found a guy named Taehyun cute), but I didn’t stan them then. I started stanning when I saw ONE DREAM.TXT where they talked to BTS and found them really cute and endearing. Looking into them, they were wild, and chaotic and so fun and also i got rEAAAALLY attached to Soobin. So here I am. There u go, my stanning story.

TWO

rule: answer the ten questions and write your own!

what’s your unrealistic goal for life?

becoming a famous actress or singer hJSHADJSA

if you had known that we would be in a global pandemic, what’s one thing that you would’ve done before things shut down (if they have for you)?

Went to a theme park. I miss going to theme parks 🥺

what’s an unconventional thing that you carry around with you when you go out?

hmmm most of the time i just go out with just my phone and money unless I need to bring a bag due to safety concerns/more items needed. So I’d say nothing unconventional.

favourite type of plushies and why?

God do I seem boring hsahsajjsa but i wasn’t too big on plushies. I had a gigantic teddy bear named Justin when I was a kid (it’s a bear with shades that my brother gave me) and I used to buy plushies whenever I’m in disneyland, it’s all in my sister’s reading lounge. The only plushie in my room now is a Mollang doll wearing like a blue shirt/dress, it’s my favorite rn It’s squishyyyy

favourite song right now?

right now, it’s Work It by Sabrina Carpenter.

something that you’ve always wanted to learn?

Dancing (i literally suck. i have no idea how. no joke), Vocal Lessons (had some lessons briefly for like a year but i stopped and want to take some again), music production, acting, hosting

tell a funny story about yourself (or just something that you’ve witnessed)

ok okok so one time in our class groupchat we were talking about class elections for officers. There were muse votes and some people were saying they want me to be the muse but i didnt want to bc i was busy with work. Then they started saying that they want me to be the muse and this guy that i rejected be the escort. while this is happening, i was simping hard for soobin in another chat. anyways, i got everything mixed up and accidentally sent the soobin simp stuff to the class chat and everyone thought i was simping for the classmate i rejected i was so asHAMED.

headphones or speakers? why?

speakers! idk i just like blastic the music loud.

craving any food right now? what are you craving?

anything with cheese

which music streaming platform do you prefer? why?

spotify since its free for me askjjksad someone pays for my subscription lmaooo

😌✌️

questions from cj to me:

android or apple? why?

APPLE because im loyal 😌 and i guess im just used to it so its easier to use for me + all my gadgets at home are mac

words of affirmation or physical affection? why?

I think there should be a good balance of both. The words will have the ability to give you this sense of comfort and satisfaction and you know just overall a peace of mind when you hear the right words??? and physical affection bc sometimes it’s just better to get a hug or a kiss isntead of talking yk? actions speak louder than words sometimes

bean bag or rocking chair? why?

Honestly, this would depend. If I’m reading a book and feeling very vintage with a hot cup of coffee, definitely a rocking chair. If I’m watching TV and basically just chilling I’d go for Bean Bag. I like maintaining the atmosphere.

do you view a half-filled glass as half-full or half-empty or an in-between? why? (go as deep as you can)

I view it as in-between, because there’s always room for improvement. There’s always things to change, and consider, and make better. There’s no such thing as perfect.

If someone were to grant your wish right now, what would it be and why?

Please stop corona right now and let everyone go back to their daily lives and please let me attend a TXT concert bls im begging on my kNEES

if someone were to give you anything you want right now, what would it be and why? (something that can be held)

Give me Soobin I just want to give him a hug. this is valid i can hold him

favorite season and why

Winter! Even if I’ve never experienced snow or winter before, the whole idea of snow is just really fun and endearing to me. One of my bucketlists is to see snow in real life. I think it has to do with the fact that I’ve always been this person to prefer the cold over heat.

what made you enter tumblr?

I’ve always been here! Just not in kpop tumblr. I’ve since deleted my old accounts and shame but i came back to write. It’s always been so stress-relieving to me, to write without any expectations on my back because I’m thinking about grades or a competition. Also Soobin simping is a daily thing and I gotta release it somewhere man

are you happy with where you are in life right now? why or why not?

Yes. I may not be the richest or the prettiest, or smartest or whatever, but I have a good family that loves me. I have good friends that support me and I have TXT and BTS to help me cope when things get overwhelming. I have a job that gives me a little bit of income (it’s not too common for college students here to get jobs like in the US, most of them just focus on acads) and all the means to continue my education amidst the pandemic. So really, I’m grateful for where I am now.

to see the boys in real life but for it to happen only once in your lifetime, or to meet the boys via online fan meeting as many times as you can in your lifetime? why?

Why do you have to do me dirty cj,,,,, prolly online. I may not get to hug them or anything but I get to talk to them still. As may times as I want to. And as a girl whose sanity literally just depends on Soobin giggles rn it’ll be very therapeutic to me to see them and talk to them as much as I could, even just through a screen.

QUESTIONS FROM ME TO YOU:

Cinema or Netflix? Why?

Fire or Rain? Why?

What’s the worst experience you’ve had as a KPOP stan?

How do you handle stress?

Favorite Disney Princess and why?

Which fictional character do you say you relate the most to?

How did you get into KPOP?

What kind of merch you got 👀

Would you date a KPOP idol? What would you do if you do date one? (doesnt have to be your bias, just wanna see what y’all would do)

Would you rather be with someone you love but doesn’t love you back or be with someone that loves yu but you don’t love them back? (Or, as the Filipinos would say, Mahal ko o Mahal Ako)

THREE

rule: bold the statements that apply to you, italicize your aspirations, then tag nine people.

AIR ༉⋆͙̈

i have small hands / i love the night sky / i watch animals and birds when i pass them by / i drink herbal tea / i wake to see the dawn / the smell of dust is comforting / i’m valued for being wise / i prefer books to music / i meditate / i find joy in learning new truths from the world around me

FIRE ༉⋆͙̈

i don’t have straight hair / i like to wear ripped jeans and overalls / i play an organized sport / i love dogs / i am not afraid of adventure / i love to talk to strangers / i always try new foods / i enjoy road trips / summer is my favorite season / my radio is always playing

WATER ༉⋆͙̈

i wear bracelets on my wrists / i love the bustle of the city / i have more than one set of piercings / i read poetry / i love the sound of a thunderstorm / i want to travel the world / i sleep past midday most days / i love simply lit dinners and fluorescent signs / i rewatch kids shows out of nostalgia / i see emotions in colors not words

EARTH ༉⋆͙̈

i wear glasses or contacts / i enjoy doing the laundry / i am a vegetarian or vegan / i have an excellent sense of time / my humor is very cheerful / i am a valued advisor to my friends / i believe in true love / i love this chill of mountain air / i’m always listening to music / i am highly trusted by the people in my life

AETHER ༉⋆͙̈

i go without makeup in my daily life / i make my own artwork / i keep on track of my tasks and time / i always know true north / i see beauty in everything / i can always smell flowers / i smile at everyone i pass by / i always fear history repeating itself / i have recovered from a mental disorder / i can love unconditionally

FOUR

PERSONAL

name: -

nickname: rina

birthday: -

zodiac: gemini

nationality: filipino

languages: english, filipino

gender: female

sexuality: straight

height: 5′2 like 2 years ago, i probably grew like an inch or two

BLOG STUFF

inspiration for muse: --

meaning behind my url: bts and txt fanfics to read hasjhsahj

blog established: ,,,,, i cant remember askjjksdjkdsa but the blog is only a few months old!

followers: 384!!! love yall

FAVORITES

favourite animals: b u n n y y y y y

favourite books: CAMP HALF BLOOD SERIES BY RICK RIORDAN IM ZEUS’ DAUGHTER YALL

favourite colour: black, blue, purple

favourite fictional characters: Percy Jackson, Jaron from Ascendance Trilogy, Chimmy!!! hihi

favourite flower: white roses

favourite scent: coffee

favourite season: winter

RANDOM

average hours of sleep: 3-5 or 8-10.

cats or dogs: dogs because cats scare me

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: coffee!!! especially if it’s iced and sweet

current time: 12:21 AM

dream trip: California. Look I have the visa, pls miss rona. just leave so cali can just let me IN

dream job: actress or singer

hobbies: writing, reading, watching crackvids

hogwarts house: gryffindor

last movie watched: Work It (bc it has sabrina carpenter ahshsahsa i have low standards when we talk about Sabrina)

last song listened to: Helpless - Hamilton OBC

no. of blankets you sleep with: 1

random fact(s): if given the chance again, I would go on a date in high school. Also try to exert more effort in my appearance back then i looked like an honest to god M E S S (tbh i still do but now i have eyebrow liner on) hsajhsajhh

FIVE

10 things I can’t stop listening to (at the moment)

Run Away - TXT

Work It - Sabrina Carpenter

Euphoria - BTS

Song Cry - Yeonjun

Helpless - Hamilton OBC

Satisfied - Hamilton OBC

Journey to the past - Anastasia OBC

Lost in the Woods - Frozen OST

Perfect Song - Sabrina Carpenter

Friends - BTS