#why do i always get so feelsy at 1 am

[dandylovesturtles]

Fanfic Writer Ask Game!

🎯 🦈?

🎯 Do you have a writing milestone you’re working towards?

nope. I am at the whims of my inspiration and energy levels.

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

in ROTTMNT I would probably say Mikey. I think it's a little easy to lean too hard into the sort of "sweet little brother" thing that a lot of fandom likes (this isn't meant as a callout, lol, I like it too) and forget that he is canonically a little gremlin who is very silly and sometimes pretty gross (I mean he's a 13 to 15-year-old boy so it tracks).

Also he probably has the least defined character arc of literally every main character in the series (including the supporting cast like April, Splinter, Draxum, and both Caseys). Leo has his struggles with his place and identity within the team as well as his growth as a leader, Donnie has his issues with feeling replaced and directly linking his family "needing" him to his family loving him, Raph is struggling to live up to the expectations of the clan and his role as a big brother, April deals with her struggles connecting with her own peers and her fear that she doesn't count as part of the fam, Splinter has a billion things going on, Draxum has a whole redemption arc (truncated as it was) and Casey Sr effectively does too, and Casey Jr. has grief and trauma. And Mikey... would probably have had a really good character arc if we'd gotten the rest of season 2 and season 3!

A lot of Mikey's episodes where he gets to really get feelsy and show his emotions are directly tied to other people's character development, especially Donnie's and Draxum's, so we don't get as much of what his deal is. The only really solid Mikey centric episode is Hot Soup The Game, which definitely brings up Mikey's frustrations with being the youngest and thus babied as a result, so that's something you can draw on for his character, but even that's more tied directly into what he wants from interactions with other people and less about what he wants for himself.

(the truffle episode is super weird... like Mikey learns not to take his friends for granted? I guess?? I wouldn't have expected him to in the first place but yeah I guess that's some character development lol)

(actually as a total side note, it does annoy me a little that when Todd is first introduced as a character in Season 1, the whole point of his superpower being niceness was that he was so nice you'd do anything for him, and even villains were unable to turn him down, which was a really good gag and made him an interesting character. Then at some point it became that Todd's niceness meant he couldn't turn anyone down and suddenly he was just kind of a doormat, to Mikey first in the truffle episode and then all of them later in Todd Scouts. I actually like the Todd Scouts episode but also you didn't have to do that to him lmao)

(actually actually even though I like Todd Scouts I would have loved a version of that episode where Splinter stayed with them in the woods and then we dealt with how his feelings were hurt by the kids being more interested in their phones than his teaching and they could have pointed out that their dad kind of waited until late in life to start teaching them life skills and IDK WE DIDN'T GET THE FAMILY BONDING CAMPING TRIP WHEN THEY GOT CAUGHT IN THE TURTLE TANK IN SEASON 1, WHY DIDN'T WE GET IT IN SEASON 2??)

cough. anyway.

yeah so I always feel bad that when I look at my AUs and stuff I always feel like I give Mikey the least. I'm so sorry, Mikey, you're just already perfect and I don't know where to take you. ;;

Thanks for the ask!

#writer ask game

[screamin-abt-haikyuu]

They went from this:

To this: 

I’m so proud and happy I cry so much I am so glad this show exists. They all worked so hard to get here and they deserve all that is good in this world (இ﹏இ`｡)

Also can we talk about how PRECIOUS their baby faces are. They look adorable but also so sad I wanna pick them up and tell them everything is gonna be ok babies. (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Also baby Asahi has my entire whole heart kill me please I can’t take it

#i'm not crying you are #why do i always get so feelsy at 1 am #FEELSY ABOUT 2D PEOPLE I NEED HELP #asahi azumane #sugawara kōshi #daichi sawamura #asahi #azumane #azumane asahi #hq azumane #haikyuu asahi #sugawara #sugawara koushi #daichi #hq daichi #haikyuu sawamura #sawamura daichi #karasuno #karasuno boys #karasuno third years #karasuno captain #karasuno 3rd years #shiratorizawa #karasuno vs shiratorizawa #haikyuu!! #haikyuu

[cangrellesteponme]

If you’re still doing the pairing thing,can I request some SebaMey with Sebastian saying “kiss me again”?

(yes, i am still doing the pairing thing! if the reblog is still up you can assume i'm fine with getting asks about it :D)

so. a very cute prompt for a very cute ship? approved. if i had to write this one, it would probably be packed with a TON of very specific tropes I like. also, i'm staying vague on if this is an AU or canon-verse because i imagine some of these scenes would work in both, but I'm imagining it in more of a modern AU? it's unclear, but fun. so here:

(this one has very little narration it's literally just me explaining how cute this shit could be)

So, imagine that Sebamey got together in the lamest, most anticlimactic way because while Mey-Rin is feelsy, and full of love, and a lively little thing, Seb is. The cold-ass demon we know and love.

(or hate. yeah.)

We basically have Mey-Rin confess in a heartfelt and moving way and Seb is like "huh. i do not feel the same way at all" (specific trope i like, n°1) but they come to the completely illogical conclusion that they could date anyway, it's not unpleasant and would make Mey-Rin happy- obviously it wouldn't but I doubt these two even share ONE braincell. (specific trope i like, n°2)

And so we end up with the most stilted "I can show you what love is"/"I'm trying real hard because I like you, but there's no big epiphany happening rn" relationship. A classic sensitive vs completely emotionless couple. (specific trope i like, n°3)

But weirdly enough, they're having fun! Being with eachother is easy, and doesn't really feel different than before, since they were already friends. (specific trope i like, n°4) There's just. A few more things. Like romantic picnics or kissing or cuddling or really just existing but with eachother. There's something about the comfort of someone else's presence, no matter how distant, that feels special. (specific trope i like, n°5)

And soon enough, that becomes their normal.

The thing that does change it all though, is the cliché "the main characters are dumb, but they have at least one friend who hoards all the braincells" trope! (specific trope i like, n°6) I'm choosing to make it Grelle, but my second choice was Bard with an extremely different discussion, actually.

Anyway, Sebastian is talking to his bestie (bc yes. if I can't have romantic sebagrelle, they're best friends. the platonic love of eachother's life.) about his time with Mey-Rin, and she's like "huh. I never thought I'd see the day you would be head over heels for someone!" which obviously has our dearest Seb confused, because he's obviously not in love, why does she think he is? (specific trope i like, n°7)

So Grelle tells him that while she often describes love as an all-consuming fiery passion that simply cannot be ignored, that's just how it is for her. Love is different for everyone. (specific trope i like, n°8) And sometimes, being in love is just a thing that is there. With no great realisation. Just a tiny, soft feeling.

And good lord, has Seb been feeling that since the beginning? Yes he fucking has. (specific trope i like, n°9)

The thought absolutely tortures him. Like, imagine realising you're that dumb? That shit is hard. But he lives. Trying to figure it all out.

Which leads us to one fateful day.

Mey-Rin is being lovely, as she always is, and Seb is deeply troubled because he's an idiot of course. She tries to cheer him up in every way possible, which usually works. (specific trope i like, n°10) Acting cute, cracking jokes, being her clumsy self, asking him about things he'd usually enjoy, none of it works! Best girl thinks that maybe, physical affection would work. Which leads us to the cutest little kiss. Like, shojo manga sparkly bubbles, soft music, pink filters kind of cute.

And, because we love romantic clichés, that's what makes Seb stop being an idiot. Like, there's this whole amazing girl in front of him and he's having a crisis about loving her? How could he not?

So he says three words.

"I love you."

And three more.

"Kiss me again."

AND THEN WE GET SOME SAPPY SHIT, THE KIND THAT HAS ME SQUEALING.

#ngl i needed to take like three breaks becasue the tiny scenes i was thinking about were too cute. #aaaaaaaaaaa sebamey brings me the simple joy of cute romance #kuroshitsuji #sebamey #ota's ask answers

[mego42]

For the Writer Ask Game: 💻, 😂 and ✏️. Thank you! <3

ty ty ty 💖

💻- three works of yours that are must reads

oooooooohhhhhhh i love this question though my answers probs aren’t surprising, hahaha.

a song inside the halls of the dark - my sprawling alternate s3 baby!!!! my most ambitious project ever! watch me learn how to plot a grandiose multi-chapter in real time! other features include: an MC villain I probs v obviously got uncomfortably into, hey what if beth and rio fell in love but make it canon? a weird number of buildings catching fire 

listening through the air shaft - aka meg plays with voice. it’s basically five fics in a trenchcoat, and all five think beth and rio are gigantic embarrassments. well, not dean, dean’s just sad. and suffering. it’s great. i heard a rumor that parts of it are funny.

trade my heart for honey - it was a v close call between this one and swear on a silver knife (sneaking in a bonus bc I do what I want) but I went with honey bc a) it’s complete and b) probably the most specifically tailored to me collection off my interests you will probs ever see me write.

😂- a line that made you laugh out loud

I still really love this bit from as the world turns, the blunt burns, idek why it just continually cracks me up:

“Mick,” Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently he doesn’t have all of the information. “We’re in the yard.”

“Yeah, Mick.” Rio says, glaring. “You’re in the yard.”

✏️- favorite part about writing

answered this one here but if you don’t feel like clicking through, i’ve really come around to editing being my fav part (currently, at least). there's something weirdly relaxing about having the thing fully drafted and then diving back in to work at it until it really shines. 

i usually do four editing, mmmm buckets? i guess? bc each one can be made up of several passes:

1. what the hell am i working with here - let’s see what ended up coming out between here and the outline. is it working? does it need to be refined to conform more to the outline? did anything new come out and should i go down those rabbit holes? what needs to be teased out and shored up to cover everything i want to cover. usually, a bulk of the editing passes happen here. 

2. that’s nice but how does it feel? - this is the one where i read through the whole thing and look for stuff i think can be tweaked and tuned to amp the emotional resonance, whatever i want that to be. usually one of these passes includes a non-sober run-through bc that’s usually when the really feelsy bits jump out to me (pro tip: always make a backup copy before this pass)

3. tuning - at this point i’m happy with the structure and vibe, now it’s time to line edit and/or get a second set of eyes if i’m working with a beta (and sometimes this results in going back to step one but personally i’m okay with that because i am an absolute weirdo when it comes to (solicited) critique). this is also where i start flagging whatever the three words i abuse to death and back each fic are and cursing myself for my limited vocabulary and OH MY GOD THERE ARE ONLY SO MANY HAND RELATED WORDS WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THAT

4. fine-tooth combing - at this point the thing is p close to post-able. i’ve started forcing myself to let things sit for 24 hours to clear my head and then i do my final read-through pass, making tweaks as i go.

writer ask game

#if you told me a year ago editing would be my favorite i would tell you that you're a filthy liar #i used to just like #write things and then put them on the internet #i mean that's not true i almost always do some kind of editing #but it never used to be this intensive #now i'm like but that's where the good stuff happens #writer ask game #ask me stuff #shut up meg #jazillia007

[punkscowardschampions]

James & Ava

James: [okay so we all know the mood is that he sees whatever she's posted and literally goes there immediately with no thought of who else could also be cos he NEEDS to check that she's alright. The drama of it all] Ava: [but luckily no one is there and she'd be so shocked but also grateful 'cos no one wants to be alone and feeling unwell, esp. not in hospital] James: [when he'd have to say he was her brother so he can take her #awkward] Ava: [lollol finding that more amusing than you would otherwise 'cos concussion breaking your awks] James: [oh she'd be so cute I can't] Ava: [just hugging him so hard] James: [we all need that moment but sadly it cannot last forever because he'd have some driver doing circles endlessly cos there's nowhere to park at hospitals ever] Ava: [seriously, and it's so expensive] James: [when you were so desperate to get in there you didn't think about how long it could have taken like she could've been admitted and that driver is just lowkey out there for the rest of time] Ava: [lmao i wonder how long he'd wait for that bag before getting bored, luckily they'd low-key be ready to get rid 'cos too busy and overcrowded] James: [practically pushing her out the door as soon as they saw someone show up for her so he doesn't even have time to give her a feelsy speech lol] James: [just help her out to the car boy, you've had a lot of practice with drunk girls in heels and it'd be the same vibe] Ava: [just saying thank you over and over] James: [meanwhile he's asking her if she's okay over and over like every step they trying to take here] Ava: ['Oh God, you must think I'm so stupid, I swear, they came out of nowhere'] James: ['We both know you're not stupid, Ava' shout out to that text cleverness 5ever tbh 'I'm just glad you weren't seriously hurt'] Ava: ['How have you been, I've been so worried' shoutout to this concussion giving me shameless freedom lol] James: [when you can only shake your head because 1. you ain't been good 2. you don't wanna tell her any of it and 3. you don't think you deserve her worry/ want her to worry about you] Ava: [sad face] James: [stopping to stroke said face, don't fall over girl, he's got you] Ava: ['James-' and then just looking 'cos what can you say] James: [looking back at her cos likewise but then you gotta drop them eyes cos so sad] Ava: ['you look tired' and making more of an actual effort to get into this car] James: ['I am tired' but helping her in and doing her seatbelt for her because not gonna see her struggle ever, telling the driver her address because there's nowhere else you can take her but home even though you have no idea if as soon as you get there someone is gonna show up for her and you obviously don't want that] Ava: [patting your shoulder like 'you can come sleep' like no no one can babe] James: ['no' but a little smile cos she's cute af 'I'm supposed to keep you awake'] Ava: [when you make a face like 😏] James: ['by which, of course, I mean, you've got a 8 hour date with Edward Cullen ahead of you'] Ava: [grinning like a fool but then being like, wait 'you'll stay though, can you?'] James: ['I'm not going to leave you alone' oh the heavy unspoken implication that she might not be if the friends or fam descend 💔] Ava: [resting your head on him as a silent thank you but then lifting it like 'so awake, promise'[ James: [stroking her hair and keeping an eye like] Ava: [being like let me tell YOU a story and honestly God knows but it'd be cute and she'd be trying to match his storyteller energy] James: [when that's lowkey the moment he falls in love with her bye] Ava: [asking the driver to play the new moon soundtrack] James: [loling and honestly when was the last time he did that, we all know it was when they were together] Ava: [live the emo life and love it babes] James: [he's GOTTA dance in his seat to keep her awake, no other reason #notanerd lol] Ava: [just clapping and cheering him on like nothing to see here driver God bless] James: [so not what that man was expecting to 👀 or 👂] Ava: [freaking out drivers is low-key a fave] James: [the one time you're happy about London traffic tbh] Ava: [even though we ain't gonna interrupt, you don't know that boy] James: [speaking of, probably send a text or something to check on the kids because you just ran like assumedly they at their grandparents but] Ava: [never leaving 'em with Chlo we all know] James: [lord her and Jay would kill each other] Ava: [I'd genuinely be worried for her safety so don't blame you remotely boy, least her parents are invested] James: [literally though & you can have those grandparents forever babs we ain't taking them away from you] Ava: [awkward that your mum never shows but that's just that on that] James: [lbr that's for the best stick with your dads kiddos] Ava: [we all know it, even if Matty might not end up remembering much] James: [Ava lowkey her mum now oops] Ava: [and Jay's actual auntie...lol what a tangled web we weave boo] James: [at least they can all stay connected] Ava: [true facts] James: [makes my heart happy even if it's weird] Ava: [lean in to how weird this family is James] James: [they weird af but they're better than the one he's got #noshadetoTeddythough] Ava: [all the shade to you Chlo, sort it out] James: [her poor future children & husband] Ava: [honestly, good luck] James: [he'd have to be about everything she is or else what the fuck] James: [anyway we've been sidetracked get to Baze's house you two] Ava: [movie marathon awaits, what else do we vibe or shall we just try and see what comes out, like] James: [let's just run with it and see what happens because we extra and anything could be said and done tbh] James: [imagine how awkward it'd be when they get there because he'd have to send her in first and just be shitting himself in the car like is anyone there or no] Ava: [at least you know full well no one is there 'cos business trips forever so you're just at the door shaking your head and doing the 'come on' gesture] James: [he'd just help her to the sofa like immediately & get her blankets and pillows and painkillers (even though it wouldn't touch a concussion headache) and a phone charger and everything else she could possibly need cos Chloe's got him trained like a dog] Ava: [low-key pulling at him, gently, like boy sit down] James: [when you are then looking at her like what did I forget/ do wrong before you realise] Ava: [squeezing his hand because you can only say thank you so many times, putting the film on but then pausing and gasping so dramatically 'coffee, I promised you coffee' and going to get up like can you be careful please] James: [thinking she's in pain or something because of that gasp so being at her side like 0-1000 and slowing her down cos they can do it together thank you] Ava: [making a face at herself like ffs when she catches on 'I'm not trying to age you' and touching his non-grey hair and wrinkles like totally necessary yep] James: ['but you're offering me coffee, what's next red meat or red wine?' but no actual shade cos we both know he doesn't care and none of that is what's aging him anyway, taking her hand from his face and gently kissing said hand before handholding to lead her to her own kitchen like let's do this] Ava: ['I don't know where my cigarettes are' shrugs and smiles like sorry not sorry, smiles even harder but lowkey stops breathing when, kissing ontop of where he just kissed her hand, then getting to this all-singing all-dancing coffee machine 'you have to pick the most daring option, one you've never, ever tried before, okay?' and waggling her finger like so serious about this] James: [takes his own cigarettes out of his pocket and slides the pack over to her 'okay' and does pick, really concentrating on the decision even though there'd be so much shit he hasn't tried and we all know he could just pick option 1 and be done] Ava: [takes one out and puts it behind her ear for later 'cos no need to light up in your parents home, just watching him 'cos so cute and then nodding like yes, good choice and picks the same, setting up this machine 'cos they're always more confusing and/or time-consuming than they need to be I swear] James: [where's the lie you gotta have the knack I swear, his turn to watch her now though because she's beautiful doing anything ever and he missed her so bad] Ava: [ahh coffee goodtimes forever] James: [he needs it cos he is tired af so thanks Ava you babe] Ava: ['do we talk about what happened, or do we write it off?' when you just saying this casually whilst waiting for your coffees] James: ['I don't know' because he is genuinely torn between wanting to and also not] Ava: ['Wait and see how we feel' 'cos no rush or pressure here 'you better carry these though' 'cos we don't need burns as well ty] James: ['wait here a minute for me' because carries the drinks through and then comes back for her because why not carry her though as well obvs] Ava: [does and loves it 'I've missed you, you know'] James: ['I know now' just giving her 😍 casually 'I've missed you too'] Ava: [😍 right back 'Ask anyone' when you're talking about your mood but you realize that sounds like you been telling the world lol 'I mean, I've been a delight' 🙄] James: [when you shake your head like no it's okay 'I overreacted about your cousin, I'm sorry' takes a deep breath remembering that whole sad ending moment 'And I'm sorry for fucking up the start of your summer' because she loves it and he knows] Ava: ['I understand why, understood, whatever. And I am still sorry, I was just too excited and-' sighs like, you know, squeezing his hand again 'I promise, that's all sorted now though' 'cos clearly told her it's over by now, 'cos thought it was anyway; she nods like thanks but shrugs like it's okay too, don't worry 'Sure even I can't be grumpy in the Seychelles, like'] James: [blatantly almost kissing her because he understands the whole being too highkey thing because he was (*cough* is) too but doesn't because she's going away 'when are you going?'] Ava: [sad face like you didn't just say you aren't gonna be grumpy 'when my parents get back, couple of days'] James: [strokes her face again like he did earlier 'you'll feel better by then' because someone's meant to watch you for 48 hours actually NHS website says] Ava: [😈 me 😇 her looking at him 'how did you even- why- I-' continuously cutting herself off 'cos you know he was checking in on you now and you know he came without hesitating so it doesn't need to be said 'Oh, James'] James: ['Ava' saying her name with SO MUCH feeling that I cannot 'I had to' when you mean so many things by that like you had to go but you have to stay now and you had to make sure she was okay today but also you had to keep checking on her the whole time] Ava: [definitely gonna go in to kiss him can't stop that soz] James: [we all know it was only a matter of time and that this is gonna turn into a not at all casual make out session] Ava: [you honestly deserve it lads] James: [that coffee gonna be cold and they won't even notice] Ava: [the movies are also not being watched lmao but no one cares rn] James: [on pause forever sorry not sorry] James: [but eventually like after AN AGE one of them should lean on the remote or whatever so it starts playing and they're like wtf] Ava: [when you shit yourself like who is here but then loving 'cos hi Edward] James: [we all shitting ourselves and all loling] Ava: ['he's very possessive' no lie] James: [looking at Edward and then kissing her again like when you're trying to make someone jealous] Ava: [when you're loling too hard into his mouth like 'scuse me] James: [kissing her neck instead so she can have her adorable lol] Ava: [reacting to that in a v different way] James: [we back at it again at krispy kreme soz twilight saga] Ava: [i swear to god the ily curse is so real] James: [this always happens to us, don't talk for a bit lads, wink wonk] Ava: [its because we give them such high-pressure situations but yes, you should fully hook up 'cos haven't yet] James: [I wonder if the orgasm headache thing would work for a concussion one or not] Ava: [my boo says #experiment] James: [imma google it but I don't expect an answer] James: [nobody is telling me but if it can help a migraine I don't see why it wouldn't] Ava: [you'll be fine bitch, just a shameless excuse that he needs to hang around longer] James: [we should totally also do the shameless thing when he falls asleep and then wakes up immediately but is like oh no how long was I asleep because not only worried about her we know] Ava: [for sure, just there chilling like 🥰 'not long, but you looked peaceful'] James: ['I was' and more 😍 'I am' just snuggling happily because deserved af] Ava: [kissing the top of his head 'good' then lying down and snuggling harder 'I'm so glad you're here, that you're okay'] James: ['I'm glad that I'm here & that you're okay' kissing her forehead and holding her so tightly because he was so worried that something much worse had happened to her] Ava: ['It was kinda scary how much I missed you- like I said I WAS extra but I think, no, I still am, I can't lie to you'[ James: [when you are just falling so hard for her rn smiling like look at this perfect 😇 'you don't have to miss me any longer, minus however long you're spending in the Seychelles, of course'] Ava: ['Yeah?' trying but failing not to sound so hopeful 'And two weeks, so not as long as it has been, not that I was definitely counting or anything'] James: ['I was afraid, no, I am afraid but very few things have ever scared me as much as when I saw you were in hospital & I thought-'] Ava: [just holding him back even tighter like you could not be closer 'I'm so sorry I scared you, I won't ever do it again, even if I get hit by something more substantial than a 90lbs mum on a lightweight bike' and shaking her head with a lil lol 'cos it is funny even though it can be as bad as a car crash actual sometimes] James: ['You scare me in the best ways, you don't have to stop, I don't want you to' because think of the new things he's already done and the new things he's already felt, it makes me emosh goodbye] Ava: [when that's the hottest thing you've ever heard like 'scuse me round two] James: [you've actually got all night for once so make the most of it lads] Ava: [like literally no one needs it more than him so I'm allowing it, there's enough shit happened, happening and still to come] James: [amen to that] Ava: [happy bubble forever] James: [if only like, he is NOT gonna wanna leave in the morning but maybe we could say that like Jay has a playdate with friends or something cos soz babe you can't keep a secret so he just gets the baby and comes back] Ava: [that would be a moment] James: [just casually meet each other how cute] Ava: [have a normal, happy day like you're meant to oh] James: [you all deserve it truly] Ava: [meet your potential future stepchild babe] James: [do we wanna have them go out or stay in?] Ava: [🤔 obvs really want them to go to Kensington Park 'cos Peter Pan and like obvs I doubt anyone who would be bothered to report to Chloe is gonna be there but it is risky so maybe save it idk] James: [we will bookmark that for the future because MUST but they could take Frank on a walk somewhere cos we ain't referenced that sweet sir even if it's just through the streets like] Ava: [that's a good shout, you better be a good boy lol] James: [and don't cockblock them rn please] James: [they'd look like a little fam, I am FINE] Ava: [and lowkey behave more like one in one day like the bar is so low tah Chlo] James: [the scolding tea] James: how are you feeling? Ava: 😊 So happy Ava: Only a bit tired from the whole staying awake thing and you keeping me awake, like 😏 Ava: oh, and Frank said you've redeemed yourself so well done there too Ava: how're you and the girls? James: I'm happy to hear all of that James: has your dizziness gone? James: we're fine, but tired too Ava: Yeah Ava: barely a headache Ava: and my parents get in early AM so I should be all set to go when they do get here James: how much packing is there left to do? Ava: All of it but deciding which 14 bikinis I wanna take shouldn't take too long James: are you sure? I think it would take me a really long time to decide Ava: I'll put some stories up Ava: You can help me Ava: I reckon I need your clearly more considered opinion James: of course you do James: you wouldn't want to spend the entirety of your holiday wishing you'd chosen differently Ava: so true Ava: especially as I'm not allowed to pack my pout James: everyone is well aware of how important the pursuit of a tan is to you, darling, anything that jeopardises that, well, it's bound to be very pout inducing James: you'll be forgiven Ava: I don't know if my family is as forgiving as you Ava: perhaps they don't like my pout as much Ava: they definitely aren't as supportive in bikini related decision making James: I'll dedicate paragraphs to both James: multiple lengthy ones Ava: It'll seem gratuitous in the movie but nothing is too much for the book James: as long as it remains included in the director's cut James: or else I will be devastated Ava: I'll demand it in my contract Ava: I think it'll be a first in favour of taking your clothes off instead of keeping 'em on James: thank you James: you do deserve a multitude of firsts, honestly Ava: you deserve so much Ava: much more than I'm allowed to give you Ava: that reminds me Ava: as I can't give you anything as a thank you, I've had to get creative James: so much of what I deserve is negative & there is nothing you owe to me in any capacity, thanks included James: but I'd never want to discourage creativity Ava: Shh sh Ava: in the spirit of firsts and trying new things Ava: when you're all less worn out, go to [a sassy but kid-friendly cafe/restaurant that's a bit out there and exotic and definitely nowhere Chloe has ever made you take her] and tell 'em you're eating on me, yeah Ava: then when I get back and you're free, you're coming over and I'm cooking James: Ava Ava: It's already arranged, I go there all the time, it's the 2nd best Brazilian food I've had James: you've been to Brazil for the 1st, haven't you? I can tell Ava: Actually no, mores the pity Ava: but my Uncle is Brazilian and a chef, my cousin too Ava: having a big weird family has unexpected perks Ava: if you like it, I already have a recipe lined up that's meant to be 🔥 but even a novice like me can master it James: you'll have to wait patiently for my review because I regrettably can't send you a picture of my face after the 1st mouthful to serve as one, but okay Ava: I'll do my best Ava: though having any patience when it comes to you doesn't seem to be my strong suit Ava: arguably not a virtue I'm known for, ever, but especially now James: I'll do my best not to miss you so hard that it's physically painful but that doesn't appear to be my strong suit either & as previously agreed, I won't make any promises I'm forced to immediately break Ava: Oh Ava: Knowing it wasn't just me finding out that painful cliche is painfully real is somehow a comfort, to know you'll want to avoid the feeling as much as I do from now on but it also hurts me even more, the idea of you having to feel it at all in the first place Ava: but there is no conflict in just how hard I'm looking forward to seeing you again after this ill-timed holiday James: I don't ever want you to be in pain because of me, I have to insist on only the good cliches going forward James: devastatingly a postcard can't be included in that Ava: Hmm, got any long-lost great aunties I can pretend to be? 🤔😂 James: If I do my wife is bound to be aware of them, their current financial situation & any possible health concerns they are facing Ava: Valid Ava: Don't need to give her any more reason to 💀💀💀 me Ava: At least no holiday is complete without the obligatory narcissistic poolside shoot James: suffice to say I've never had a complete holiday, in that case Ava: I bet you've had to be cameraman plenty though Ava: so rude when you're so nice to look at James: & yet I've never been trusted to pick a filter Ava: 🙄 Ava: does she not know that you're an artiste James: no, it's our secret Ava: 😊 I like that James: I like you Ava: I like that more James: I wish I could see you again before you go Ava: Me too Ava: I kinda wish I weren't going James: how early are your parents getting back exactly? Ava: like 4am kinda early James: I won't make you stay awake again James: I know how tired you must be Ava: 🥺 James: I'm so relieved that I can't see that look on your actual face Ava: It's 💔 Ava: but I'll survive Ava: about James: you're a very strong person Ava: You James: I'm not Ava: You are though Ava: you put up with so much shit James: is that strength or is it weakness? Ava: I think it's strength Ava: You can't necessarily stop shit happening or get shit out of your life Ava: no matter how strong Ava: and you manage to do all the shit you have to regardless James: I'd like to think you're right Ava: Then you should Ava: I encourage it Ava: 🤓 me James: you are undeniably clever Ava: Try to be Ava: when I'm not standing in the middle of cycle paths, obviously James: I heard you say that bike came out of nowhere Ava: Yeah Ava: I miss you already Ava: Frank is not as good a nurse, like at all James: if you can fall asleep now, I'd feel less guilty about the prospect of asking you not to later James: should I hypothetically be able to get away Ava: 🛌🏃 Ava: Promise James: I can't give you a promise back Ava: I know Ava: but this way, I either stay asleep and that's that Ava: or I get the best surprise to wake me up James: what did I do to deserve you? Ava: This is the part where I say something very bad but Ava: you don't seem capable Ava: you're just James: whatever it was, I need to know so I can keep doing it Ava: just be you Ava: another cliche you've proven to be true and real James: this fortnight without you is going to be really cliche James: there's no chance of it existing beyond the 1st draft Ava: not even for my eyes only? James: well James: maybe Ava: Please please please James: okay James: you are my fairest critic & you do have beautiful eyes Ava: Yours are better Ava: but I won't be too jealous if I get to look at them more James: I definitely can't promise not to be envious of everyone in the Seychelles who will get to look at you more than I can Ava: Do you ever get a decent lunchbreak? Ava: we could facetime James: I'll figure something out James: because my dad takes the longest lunch breaks, you'd be forgiven for thinking it's the 80s Ava: 😏 we love a throwback 🙄 James: I'll take Matty to work with me, she'll distract whoever I need her to Ava: She is very cute Ava: I see it James: I won't be saying anything the like of that if she won't sleep tonight though Ava: 🤞 for you and her Ava: shame she's not yet at the walking stage Ava: Frank is so 💤 James: I can't keep her in any kind of routine, it's frustrating for both of us Ava: That's hard James: it's harder for her than it is for me, she never knows what's happening Ava: She'll get there Ava: I was the worst baby Ava: hopefully before you totally lose your mind, 'course James: I find it impossible to believe you weren't 😇 Ava: I was pretty premmie so my poor parents were confined to perpetual bright light for ages when I got home James: both the girls were so late James: that was an entirely different struggle Ava: I can imagine how delightful Ava: usually excusable but when you set the bar low to begin with 😬 James: the last thing I want to do is badmouth her to you, but as we know, sometimes things write themselves Ava: I feel you Ava: not a cliche I particularly wanna be either James: of course not Ava: but you can vent, you know Ava: I don't even have to reply, just if you need to put it somewhere James: no, I can't Ava: okay, just a suggestion James: so much of this is already not fair to you, Ava Ava: I don't think it is Ava: you've never lied about any of it, you're always realistic about what you can and can't give me Ava: and I'd like to help, in any tiny way I'm able James: you don't know what she's like & I'd rather you didn't have to know James: let's keep it at you don't do sympathy Ava: I know very little but that's not positive so it doesn't take your author level of imagination if I wanna go there without your guidance Ava: and it isn't sympathy but okay Ava: I won't mention her and you don't have to either James: I just can't have you seeing me differently because Ava: I'd never see you differently because of what she's like as a person James: it's too big of a risk for me to take, that you'll end up thinking less of me than you do now Ava: You can trust me Ava: but you don't have to Ava: I won't push anything, I don't need to Ava: as much as I want to take things fast in so many respects, I'm never going to take it where you don't want it James: it isn't you I don't trust James: I'm not a reliable narrator, she's made sure I'm not Ava: However...intertwined and diluted you feel your story got, because of her, because of whatever Ava: it's always gonna be your story to tell, if you want it Ava: and I'll always listen to how you tell it James: Ava Ava: James James: if it was a story I was in control of I'd come to the airport & tell you not to go James: cliche or not Ava: and I'd stay Ava: but that's far too much like a happy ending and we've only just begun James: you're right again Ava: don't sound so surprised 😉 James: I was actually trying to decide where it falls on the scale of ideas & habits, good, bad or somewhere in between James: that you always seem to be Ava: Have you drawn a conclusion yet? James: I couldn't possibly tell you James: you're supposed to be asleep Ava: damn Ava: you'll tell me in the morning? James: yes Ava: Okay, I'll go, as long as you know it is so reluctantly it's practically under protest James: & I won't stay here hoping you don't, as long as you know it's under identical conditions Ava: Noted Ava: Goodnight and sweet dreams for whenever that happens for you then, love James: thank you

[daisymondays]

if you were to rec someone five of your fics that sum you up what would they be?

Hii, i think I literally got this ask about two months ago at this point and I’m extremely sorry I never actually answered you …. but im here now !!!

The reason this took me so long to answer was because it really made me think about what kind of writer I am, how i’d advertise the kind of things I write, like what about the fics summed me up, but i’m going to try now.

1. Karma’s A Fake Orgasm

There’s another abandoned mug, festering with mould in the living room — Steve offically has the world’s worst roommates. And complains about them. Often. Bucky, tired of his lack of action, decides it’s time to avenge Steve’s sleepless nights and unsanitary conditions once and for all. They’ll pretend to be the world’s most annoying couple: excessive PDA, loud fake sex, and general repugnance. The plan sounds easy enough; it will be strictly platonic. Or will it?

Why: I think this fic sums me up in a fair few ways, but mainly the tone. It’s a fun fic at heart and I just really love making people laugh, i think all the MCU characters have such brilliant comedic potential that for someone like me is just my dream, i truly love getting to write just the very human moments of this fic where they’re joking around as friends. It’s tropey and there’s pining, and really its a self indulgent fic that I really enjoyed writing so yeah I think it sums me up quite well. Also it was meant to be 5k and is ofc now 55k which is the epitome of me and anything I do writing wise

2. Highly (in)Compatible 

Draco’s been shagging The Prat Who Lived on and off for a few months when his soul mark starts to change. Draco’s had to accept a lot of adjustments to his life, but accepting that Harry Potter could be his soulmate is one step too far. It can’t be true? Can it?

Why: at heart this sums me up because I completely made everything more difficult than it needed to be, but no, I guess it’s pretty me as while I will joke about hand waving things way in writing, I do like there to be an explanation, it bugs me when there isn’t, and so I used this fic as a chance to get to the core of how soul mates could exist and why, and how it would work, and the point of soul marks etc etc. I spent half of my childhood always having an irritating why hanging on my tongue so is my but why fic. Also it looks at mental health (ding ding ding) and has a Draco POV voice that is so close to my own speaking voice that I had friends tell me it sounded like me speaking at times so take from that what you will

3. If We Were Honest

Two years ago, Draco and Harry had a whirlwind secret romance that ended in heart-break. Since then Draco’s written a best-selling novel based on their relationship, but with one key difference—the characters get a happily ever after. Now Harry and Draco are reunited for the first time since their break-up, but can they rewrite their own ending?

Why: this fic is my inner angsty mess that I don’t show that often and here it is. I always want to write really feelsy almost poetic stuff but have a tendency to lean more to realistic and humorous character voices, that are more over dramatic in their feelings, but this was me being able to explore that side of the table and trying harder with the language and imagery. Also, a lot of queer pride in here and as i approached my first pride month as a baby bisexual that was important to me, getting happy endings and the difficulty in embracing sexuality sometimes and learning to be comfortable in who you are. Also that sometimes people fuck up (speaking from experience there LOL)

4. A Place of Learning

When Pansy returns to Hogwarts all she wants to do is keep her head down and pass her N.E.W.Ts. However, between drinking games and a new roommate, Pansy is reminded that nothing at Hogwarts is ever simple.

Why: so something that is very important to me in fandom is the fair treatment of female characters especially due to a lot of internalised misogny they’ve been shat on a lot in the past. Also there is such a disportinate amount of w/w to m/m work, and like i’ve written predominantly m/m too but i do like to try and write w/w fics too!! ((I have plans for possible Peggy/Natasha for MCU)) So this fic was me bringing fun tropes aka 8th year, drinking games and roommates to Ginny/Pansy in a hope to encourage people to read it!! its my usual and its got strong banterous friendships, a bit of pining and feels, and i think it sums me up in my just general determination to make sure femslash isn’t totally overlooked

5. Strings Attached

Draco Malfoy’s never been interested in dating, and he’ll be damned if that changes because of Harry Potter in joggers.

Why: this sums me up not so much for the content but again usual, banter and some feels, but for the reasons I wrote it. I wrote it after a conversation with some mates about being a bit tired of a few dynamics we were seeing in HD and I was bored of Drarry at this point and no intention of writing it for the joggers fest then ofc, bam sat down and cracked 15k in three days – and i really like how this fic turned out too – so i think this sums me up in the things i will do to prove a point and just how bloody fast i write sometimes, its ridiculous honestly. But yeah, i think again its a strong me vibe just in it

So here you go Nonnie, 5 fics of mine and some rambling about how i think they best represent me. Really I’m here for banter and feels, and hopefully no damp squibs. Thanks for the ask

#gracie speaks #gracie writes

[swanandapirate]

Tuesday (1/1)

It’s my blog’s second birthday today, yay! To honor that and because it’s Tuesday today, I decided to finally post this fic I have been working on for actual months. This fic is dedicated to @captainwiley because she let me use her parents’ epic romance to turn it into a fic prompt (she’s the rl Henry of this fic and just an amazing human being and beta-reader ♥ ) Also major thanks to @artandteaandstuff because she corrected and flailed too ♥

summary: Every Tuesday, she’s there, working late with her son and every Tuesday so is he. He offers to keep Henry busy so she can finish her tasks, but neither of them would have expected that Henry would grow to think ‘Mr.Killian’ is his dad.

This is as much a captain cobra fic as it is a captain swan one and it has a lot of Daddy!Killian feels (the three best things ever to write tbh, probs why this is so long. Also ‘cause it’s a modern AU and I always make those super long)

Rating: FF (Freaking Feelsy)

~17,700 words (so outrageously long wow)

ff.net and ao3

As head of the Books and Manuscripts Department in the New York division of Gold’s Auctioning House, Killian Jones understood the charm of ancient letters, the allure of rare books filled with secrets never spoken aloud. But dear god, the amount of money people were willing to spend for a scrap of Jane Austen prose was frankly absurd.

What would they even do with it, he often wondered. Would it be proudly displayed in their living room amongst other flauntings of their wealth, both intellectual and monetary? Would it be used to brag to their friends about the exclusiveness of the item? Or would it be appreciated as it should be, used as a reminder of days long gone, of a lifetime of an extraordinary woman and writer, of a pillar of English history and literature?

Being an English Literature major, Killian perfectly understood the latter. The former, however…

But this was Gold’s Auctioning House and his boss surely wanted the influx of money to be as big as it could get, wanted people to bid and fight in a direct battle against one another, transcending the actual estimated worth of the object and assuring the Auctioning House as much profit as possible.

It strayed far from Killian’s own ethics, the principles and good form brought to him by his older brother and ingrained in his being, but he was surrounded by literary treasures, was expected to keep them safe. Besides the rich, pompous atmosphere that clung to the walls and customers like a sharp perfume, he adored his job. This was what he was meant to do.

--/--

“Henry! No! Stop!” a female voice yelled.

A form, which Killian assumed was the Henry that needed to stop, flew along the archives and came to a halt right in front of him. It was a child with brown hair swept across his forehead and big brown eyes. His small chest slightly heaved with the running he had done and his eyes looked at him with something between wonder and fear.

“Hello,” Killian said, crouching down to turn himself from a scary giant into a friendly face, which seemed to work as the fear left the child’s expression, only leaving the wonder.

“Henry!” was yelled again and this time the woman to whom the voice belonged joined them as well. She ran, her blonde ponytail bouncing with the movement and her eyes scanning the rows frantically in search of the boy.

“I’m here, Mommy,” Henry said.

Her head snapped towards them and Killian could see her eyes widen in shock as she took in her son with the head of the department kneeling across him.

“Henry, you can't run off like that,” she reprimanded but her words lacked real authority. Killian would assume that was because he was there. The woman grabbed Henry and pulled him closer to her, as if she wanted to cover him, as if she felt the need to protect the lad from him. Henry’s little arms went around her white sweater as she picked him up and placed him on her hip.

Killian didn't recognize her. It wasn't unusual for him to not know everyone that worked in the department. They were one of the biggest of the company and Killian mainly had contact with the people who were directly below him on the hierarchical ladder. They were in charge of hiring the employees they needed and as long as it fit the budget, Killian would not interfere. He was certain that if he had seen her before, he would've remembered her; there was something alluring about her presence. It was a light against a dark canvas. Something that would leave a trace, that would still be visible eons after it had been there.

He stood up again—as there was no need for kneeling on the floor anymore—and left his thoughts about the impression she’d made on the cold granite. He looked her in the eye. An explanation of why Henry was running around here, and why she was still here while the rest of the employees had long left, was still owed to him.

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Jones,” she began, apparently recognizing the request in his eyes. “I couldn't find a babysitter and I wasn't finished here, yet. Henry normally knows that he can’t run off and that he needs to keep quiet but he decided to ignore that today.”

“Normally?”

Only then did she realize her words and what they betrayed. She flinched, closing her eyes and scrunching up her nose and it was quite an adorable sight, even more so with the toddler in her arms softly patting his mother's face.

“You do this often?” he asked.

“I wouldn't say often,” she attempted to worm her way out of the situation. “But finding a babysitter is hard sometimes.” Her shoulders moved in a shrug and it conveyed sympathy on Killian’s behalf.

“What's your name?”

“Emma Swan.” She bit her lip as she answered.

“And I'm Henry,” the boy introduced himself proudly.

Killian felt a chuckle come up with Henry's openness, with the innocence that beamed out of him.

“Well, Swan,” he addressed Henry’s mother. “It's alright. Just make sure the lad doesn't touch anything he's not allowed to. I don't know how I would explain to Mr. Gold that a four-hundred-year-old manuscript was destroyed by a two-year-old.”

“I am three!” Henry objected, his small brows pulled into a frown. “And almost four.”

“I am sorry, lad. By an almost four-year-old,” Killian corrected himself while playfully ruffling the boy’s hair. Swan eyed him with wariness. Either she did not trust him to be close to her child or she did not trust his words of reassurance: the words promising her there were no consequences for bringing Henry, the words that told her she could continue to do so.

The words asking her to trust him had already gathered on the tip of his tongue, only requiring one last push to be pronounced, but Killian held them back. She did not know him, he did not know her. They had far too little insight into each other’s characters for him to request such a favor. He supposed a certain wariness towards the man in charge was not unsmart; he certainly did not trust his own boss fully, but then again Gold was a furtive man and Killian was… well, Killian. Hopefully, Emma did not consider him furtive. He hoped none of his employees did.

Before he could let his worries about her opinion on him take over, Killian chose to part with Emma and Henry, to finally go home as he had intended in the first place.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Killian said with a nod, announcing the decision he had made to his company.

Swan readjusted her grip on Henry, shifting the boy from her left hip to her right one.

“You too, sir.”

--/--

“Swan, Henry.”

It made him happier than it should have, seeing her nibbling on a pen as she stared at a row of documents while Henry sat at a small table, drawing chaotically on the white sheets that lay upon it, exactly a week since he had first met the pair.

“Mr. Jones.” She removed the pen from between her lips, stood a bit straighter and quickly checked on Henry to see if he was behaving. “I'm almost done here. We’ll be out of your hands in no time, I promise.”

Her white sweater from last week was replaced with a purple blouse but she still wore pants in that same shade of blue and the same high boots that almost came up to her knees. Her hair was loose today, no hair tie confining the wild curls flowing across her shoulders and with every small movement she made.

“Don't worry about it, Swan. I am done for the day,” he announced. An idea sprung in the back of his mind as he saw Henry peer up at him, some sort of yearning in the boy’s eyes. It had to be boring sitting here while your mother was focused on her work. “If you want—” Involuntarily, his hand went behind his ear to scratch, betraying his uncertainty, the hesitance with which he spoke and of which he hoped she had not noticed.”—I can watch Henry while you finish up.”

“Oh no, that's not necessary.” Her head shook, to decline or to get rid of the surprise that flashed across her features. “I don't want to be a burden.”

“You're not and I offered.” His eyebrow rose. “I have a feeling Henry has some interesting things to tell me.”

“Mommy, can I?” Henry asked with an unprecedented enthusiasm, sending his crayon flying over the smooth surface of the table and onto the floor. It seemed the fondness he felt for Henry was reciprocated by the boy.

She was overpowered by them, stood alone while they stood together and in the end, she had no choice but to accept. Killian knew that. It may have been a bit low to enlist a three-year-old but if it was what the three-year-old desired and if it was by his own volition, who was he to stop the boy from looking up at his mother with the most doey eyes Killian had ever seen? While he expected Emma to have acquired some sort of immunity against the adorableness of her own son, she did not have any resistance against his blue eyes copying the act.

“Alright,” she sighed and bent down to speak to her son. “But Henry, please behave yourself and we are going home when I say we are, okay?”

Well-behavedly, Henry nodded. Swan stood back up, it being Killian’s turn to be addressed.

“I’ll try to hurry,” she promised him and Killian smiled in response.

“There’s no need, Swan. The lad and I get on just fine. Take all the time you need.”

With that, they were off. At first, Killian attempted to lead Henry to his office by telling him where to go, but he would not listen, straying from the path he had outlined for them and Killian realized the boy had no idea what left or right was and had no desire to learn. Seeing no use in continuing with his previous strategy, Killian simply offered his hand to Henry, which he gladly accepted.

“Here we are.” Killian opened the door and Henry ran in, head turning from left to right, scanning the entire room.

“Wow, you have a boat?” he immediately noticed, commenting on the large ship that stood on top of one of his filing cabinets. It was one of Killian’s most prized possessions, the replica of Captain Hook’s Jolly Roger Liam had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday. Later, Killian had discovered that the “replica of Captain Hook’s Jolly Roger” part was a whole lotta quatsch but the boat’s emotional value remained. By having it in his office, a piece of Liam was there too.

“It’s a ship,” Killian helpfully corrected. “And yes I do. I even have a real one.”

Henry’s eyes grew and his mouth fell open. Killian laughed with the amazement the lad’s features screamed.

“Can I see it, can I see it, can I see it?” The excitement made him trip over his words and almost trip over his own feet as he ran back to Killian, who saved him just in time from landing face first on the hard ground.

“Perhaps another day. For now, let’s stick to drawing, shall we?”

In acquiescence, Henry calmed down and let Killian lead him to the big mahogany desk that stood in the middle of the room. Killian lifted him and placed him in the fancy chair that stood behind it, a king on his throne. For himself, he rolled the chair that stood on the other side of the desk, the chair that was meant for visitors, next to Henry and sat down. His bottom drawer contained scraps of paper that had already served their purpose but had another go in them, were still capable to be doodled on or have little reminders scribbled onto them. Out of another drawer, Killian took crayons and two markers, frowning at the fact he did not have anything better for the boy to draw with.

“Mr. Jones?”

Henry’s small voice gently pulled him out of his thoughts and Killian moved his gaze off of the drawers and back to the child sitting next to him.

“You can call me Killian, Henry.”

“Mr. Killian?”

The boy pronounced Killian more like Killun which did all kind of things to Killian’s heart. Maybe it would have been easier to let Henry continue calling him Mr. Jones but the words carried such formality, created such a distance between them that it felt unsettling to Killian. His employees—most of them, anyways—called him that but that was because it was expected of them, because it reminded them who called the shots, but Henry had nothing to do with that and Killian had no right to any authority over Henry.

“Aye, if that's what you prefer, that's fine by me,” he mumbled more to himself than to Henry.

“Mr. Killian, is that why you don’t have a hand?” Killian dreaded the words that were about to follow. “Because you are a pirate?” Henry whispered the words as if they were a secret, as if he was the only one that had figured out the mystery. The dread dissolved.

“No, Henry. I’m not a pirate, sadly enough. I wish I were,” he admitted, “That would mean I could sail around the whole world, across all of the seas and I would take you with me as my first mate.” Henry widened his mouth, revealing his little teeth while doing so, in a smile. “I don’t have a hand because I was in an accident and sometimes those can make people lose hands.”

“Okay,” he accepted. “Can you draw a boat for me?”

Killian had to suppress a sigh of relief. Henry seemed so unwavered by the lack of his left hand, so unscarred by the scarred tissue on his wrist. It was a refreshing feeling. Adults always seemed to struggle to look past it. They could not refrain their eyes from sympathetic glances, nor could they stop their mouths from asking the questions he had heard a million times before. Does it still hurt? How did it happen? Living without a hand must be such a struggle? Why don’t you wear a prosthetic?

“Aye, lad. I can surely try.”

There was knock on his office door after a while, a quiet, hesitant thing and both he and Henry looked up from the color-streaked paper on the desk. Emma’s face appeared between the door opening, her eyes unsure where to look until they landed on them.

“Mommy!” Henry yelled joyously, how only a child that has missed his mother would upon reunion, and jumped off the chair to run towards her. Killian leaned back and watched them.

“Hey, honey.” She smiled while opening her arms for him. “Did you have fun with Mr. Jones?”

“Mr. Killian.”

“Oh, you're on a first name basis already. Lucky you.” She kissed his forehead and stood back up with Henry in her arms. Emma looked at him. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

“None at all, Swan.” He shook his head with a contented smile. “We drew pirate ships.”

“I asked Mr. Killian if he was a pirate but he is not,” Henry said, slightly disappointed.

“Well, this pirate better get home and into bed.” Emma’s pale hand brushed over the top of Henry's head, her fingers brushed through the brown hairs. A clear sign of affection that made Killian’s smile even more content.

“But Mommy.” Henry pursed his mouth and Killian saw the doey eyes return.

“No buts, Henry. You promised.” She was firm, strict, how a mother should be, but still, the words were soft and kind. Motherly. “Now, say goodnight to Mr. Jones and thank him for spending time with you.”

At the mention of him, Killian stood up, treating it like an invitation to interrupt the mother-son bonding that was taking place.

“Night, Mr. Killian. Thank you,” Henry obediently said to him.

He approached them and stopped when there was still a respectable distance between him and Swan, but was close enough to share a moment with Henry.

“You are very welcome, Henry.”

His eyes shifted to her.

“Umm… thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

She sounded anything but certain, but comfortable in his presence. Killian understood. It was a strange situation they had found themselves in. And yet, one he wanted to experience again.

“It was my pleasure. Goodnight.”

When he finally got home, hours later than he would on a normal day, it was with a content feeling. A feeling he had forgotten even still existed and deemed impossible to ever course through his body and mind again.

A feeling he wanted to experience again.

--/--

It became somewhat of a tradition, a thing to look forward to every Tuesday. He would walk out of his office after finishing the paperwork from auctions held over the weekend, make his way towards the archives and see her there, diligently stacking and retrieving and returning while Henry sat at that same small table. He would greet them, Emma softly smiling in return and Henry jumping up in utter glee.

Killian had to admit that the sudden appearance of toys in his office and a very secret stash of candy had everything to do with the little lad that would visit on Tuesdays. His interactions with Emma were limited to a simple hi when he came to fetch Henry and have a nice evening when she was done with her work and was ready to go home. He could not deny that there was an urge inside of him to know more about her but this was the only time their paths crossed and it would be a very strange sight for him to suddenly appear in the archives during work hours, a place he normally never set foot in. So a hello and a goodbye was all they had, all they got and everything Killian treasured.

“Rawtch.” Henry jumped up from behind his desk in a surprise attack, his small hand wrapped around a green Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Killian copied the sound and fought back with his own duplicate. The two toys collided in a head to head battle, more growls accompanying the fighting and eventually, Killian forfeited, dramatically falling down onto the ground with a shriek proclaiming his demise. Henry jumped up and down, giggling as he danced in victory.

“Henry is the winner! Mr. Killian losed because Henry is stronger than Mr. Killian.”

“Oi, lad,” Killian remonstrated, risen from the dead again. “I’ll have you know that I only lost because you had the bigger T-Rex.”

“No, you losed because I am better.”

“Oh, that will cost you.” Killian jumped up from the ground and swept Henry off the ground, the boy playfully hitting him and wriggling to attempt to escape from his grip.

“What is happening in here?” Emma suddenly stood in the door opening, and Killian and Henry looked at each other with wide eyes and let go of one another.

Thick as thieves, they replied, “Nothing” in chorus.

“Alright then,” Emma said, unconvinced after a small and amused chuckle. “Henry, I know you’re having fun with Mr. Killian, but it’s time to go home.”

Henry pouted while putting his T-Rex back into the drawer, the one that held all of the toys, the one whose insides only saw the light of day on Tuesdays.

“Mommy?” Henry asked.

His little feet took him to his mother, who stood with an outstretched hand for him to grab. Killian deposited his own dinosaur in the drawer and closed it until it would be opened again next week.

“Yes, Henry?”

“Is Mr. Killian my dad?”

Emma looked as if she was going to choke. Killian was pretty sure he looked like he was going to choke. All the while sweet, innocent Henry looked at them, not aware of the gravity of his words, only asking a question and now patiently waiting for the answer.

“No, Henry,” she answered, a sadness taking over her features, darkening them almost imperceptibly. He could see the struggle, the smile that seemed to painfully pull at the corners of her lips, the lines in her forehead that deepened, the gentle ache in her voice, her effort to prevent her emotions to be noticed by Henry. But Killian… well, he did. “He is not.”

And while he wanted nothing more than to ask if she was okay—question why Henry would think he was his father—all of the signs Henry was oblivious to and Killian not, prevented him to do so.

“Let’s go home, kid. I’m tired.”

--/--

“Swan,” he acknowledged her on the Tuesday that followed.

“Mr. Jones,” she did the same but kept her eyes trained on the big shelves and on her hands sliding the books back into their shelter for the night.

Killian searched around, trying to find his company for the evening but the small table was empty and there were absolutely no indications—no paper stacked, no crayons strewn, no backpack propped against the wall—that Henry was here or had been here.

“Is Henry not here tonight?” Killian questioned, hoping that his disappointment seemed less clear, more masked for her than the poor attempt it seemed in his eyes.

“No.” Emma had still not looked at him, back still turned towards him. “He’s sleeping over at a friend's house.”

And while that was a good explanation, one Killian could have accepted, he couldn't help but shake the feeling that his absence had something to do with what transpired between them a week ago. He was quite sure of it, actually. Because Emma Swan had never been this cold, this distant towards him, not even when they first met, and he’d like to think she’d warmed up to him over the weeks and hours spent with Henry. So, it had to be the Dad Incident (with capital D and I because it was such a capital moment in his life).

“The lad doesn’t have a father?”

He was aware of how prying it sounded, of how much she did not owe any explanation to him, but the answer felt like a pivotal piece of information, a revealing part of Emma Swan. That was why he expected her to ignore the question, to yell that he had no right to ask, to take off. And that was why when she did neither, Killian had to control his features from confessing his shock.

“He does not,” Emma replied.

Killian wanted to ask on but he could see how closed off Emma was, how rigid her shoulders were, how faltering her breath. She still hadn’t faced him.

“Henry is lucky with a mother like you.”

If he heard correctly, Emma let out a gasp in response, but it was late and he was tired and it was probably only his imagination conveying the sound, making him hear what he wanted to. There was nothing else, no answer, no looks, only silence, so Killian let it go. Let himself go home and her stay. It was for the best, probably.

He lay awake that night, the worry a constant source of activity in his brain. She seemed okay, so did Henry. He was a typical three-year-old with a vivid imagination. There was no trace of unhappiness, of some sort of deprivation in those dark eyes. They appeared perfectly content.

And yet.

Her job did not pay a lot and she spent so much time working. Emma Swan was a dedicated employee but Killian highly doubted her work would get prioritized over her son, her dedication as a mom even greater. It had to be a necessity, the working late, a thing to make ends meet, to keep their heads above water. Killian had hoped she had someone to support her, to share the task of raising Henry, but the fact that she took the boy there every Tuesday had already been a red flag.

A sliver of silver light intruded his otherwise dark bedroom. Killian rubbed his hand over his tired eyes and it eventually rested along his cheek, a steady breath warming his palm. He sighed and his hand fell next to his body again. He rolled his shoulders to find a better position in the large, empty bed, between the cold sheets. Time passed but he had no idea how much time exactly before he finally drifted off.

--/--

“Belle?”

“Yes, Killian?” The brunette spun on her chair and her blue eyes met Killian’s, the corner of her eyes slightly crinkled by the smile on her lips.

He sat down on an empty corner of her desk, one leg still connected to the floor and the other dangling over the edge. He ran his fingers through his dark locks while he sensed Belle’s expectant gaze on him.

“Is there a woman named Emma Swan that works in the archives for you?”

If Belle was surprised by his seemingly random and very specific inquiry, she hid it well. Much to the relief of Killian; he had no idea how he would go about explaining his sudden interest in her. Then again, he was Belle’s boss; he had no obligation to explain himself to her, but as her friend, he kind of did.

“Yes, I hired her about—” Belle pursed her lips in thought. “—seven months ago, I would say.”

“And how does she do her job?”

Killian already had an idea of what the answer to his question would be but he needed to be absolutely certain, to hear it from someone who saw her every day and not only on Tuesdays.

“Incredibly, to be honest,” Belle replied in her typical Aussie way of speaking. “She's always the first one to arrive and the last one to leave. You would think putting and retrieving files into the archives has some greater meaning for the greater good the way she does her job. She has been my savior several times when the others failed me.”

Silently, Belle asked him if he needed to hear more, if she needed to tell him more.

“Hmm,” he hummed while softly shaking his head.

He knew enough.

Emma Swan had always been a good employee—working long hours, working until her body ached only to go home to care of a three-year-old. She worked faster than the others, more thoroughly and more immaculate. In the time it took the others to do one task, Emma would make sure she’d done two. If you were the best, the probability of getting fired, of ending up without any money, any food to feed your child, or the chances of getting kicked out of the closet their landlord dared to call an apartment were smaller. She had to be the best for Henry and a couple of hours of extra sleep were nothing compared to her kid’s happiness.

And still, one day when her boss—not Belle but her boss-boss, Mr. Jones or Mr. Killian as her kid had called him… Mr. Killian and something else—summoned her to his office, Emma was one hundred percent sure that it was all over for her.

She’d walked this path through the halls several times, but never had she done it on a Friday, never had she done it when there were other people around, when the sun had not yet set. Those never’s were the instigators of her fear, of her conviction that she was getting fired.

Emma had tried to forget what happened last Tuesday and more importantly, the Tuesday before that, but it had taken a lot of power to barricade those thoughts and sometimes a brick would fall down, giving leeway for the memory to slip in and catch her off-guard.

Mr. Jones didn’t seem to be a vindictive man, far from it actually; he seemed kind and gentle and Emma completely understood why Henry would want to know if her boss was his dad. At least that would explain his behavior, his caring about them. No, he was not a vindictive man, but why had he suddenly decided to fire her now?

Halting before the door, Emma stared at the silver plaque. Killian Jones. Head of the Books and Manuscripts Department. She let out a shuddering breath, closing her eyes while pushing her balled hand forward until it met the wooden door, creating a harsh knock in the process.

“Yes, come on in!” a muffled voice yelled. The door did not suppress the British lilt of the speaker, however.

“You sent for me, Mr. Jones?”

“Ah, yes, Miss Swan. Do sit down.” His hand gestured towards the chair across him.

He had never called her Miss Swan before. It was always just Swan. He was distancing himself, pretending all of those Tuesdays had never happened to make this less painful for him. Oh god. A chill ran up and down her arms. She was going to get fired.

“Please don’t fire me,” she begged before Jones could even begin speaking. “I have a son to take care of. I will work harder, work longer. Just… please don’t.” Her voice cracked on the last word and it felt like the dam holding back the tears in her eyes had too because a tear rolled down.

“Swan, I’m not going to fire you,” he replied, “On the contrary, I’m giving you a promotion for all of the splendid work you’ve done.”

But Emma still could not calm down, could not stop the tears from flowing regardless of how much she rubbed and how much she blinked. Through her blurry vision, she could see Mr. Jones stand up and walk around his desk. Her hands came up to cover her face, hiding her red eyes and running nose from him. Her chair slightly moved and as Emma peeked between her fingers to find out as to why, she detected him sitting before her, one knee on the floor and holding something in front of her.

"Stop crying, love. Breathe, Swan." His soft voice did seem to help a bit if she focused on it, if she didn’t think about where they were and who he was and what he had just told her but only listened to the sounds of his timbre, the cadence of his accent.

His hand was holding a navy blue handkerchief, offering it to her, and Emma accepted, pressing the piece of soft fabric against her eyes and nose.

Of course he was the kind of guy that carried a handkerchief with him wherever he went.

After having snotted all over the handkerchief and having calmed down to the point that the tears had stopped forming and she did not feel like dropping onto the floor and curling into a ball anymore, Emma hesitantly handed the used cloth back, grimacing in embarrassment.

"Sorry for ruining your handkerchief," she apologized.

Jones chuckled in reply and stuffed it back into his pocket before standing up again.

"No worries, love. Nothing a good wash can't solve.” He leaned against the desk, widening the distance between them while maintaining their proximity. “Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. It's just—” Quickly, her hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I felt a bit overwhelmed. I really thought you were going to fire me.”

"Why would I fire you when you're one of my best employees?” His eyebrow went up as he questioned her fears. And when he pronounced them, a handsome smile on his lips, they seemed so irrational, so illogical for them to make sense. “Besides, I don't want Henry to be angry with Mr. Killian."

The affection in his voice, the affection for her kid, surprised her. Enough to make the words disappear out of her mouth and mind.

"How is the lad doing?" he asked, after some blinks of silence.

"Um… fine,” Emma replied, trying to restrict the shock in her voice. “He's being Henry which means a lot of questions and very little answers."

Mr. Jones laughed and Emma stared at him, the way a dimple appeared in his cheek and he slightly threw back his head.

This was her boss.

And she’d already had a mental breakdown and completely destroyed his handkerchief today She needed to leave. Right now.

“If you don't mind, I'm going to finish the thing I was doing.”

To make her words sound less vague, she pointed behind her but it didn't really help.

“Oh no, sure.” He seemed dazed for a moment, looking back at his desk in search of something and eventually giving up the search. “I'll tell Belle to fill you in about the new job, your tasks and what not. If you agree, she'll have your contract too and all you have to do is sign. You're free to go.”

Emma didn't even let him finish her sentence before she quickly replied thanks and dashed out of the office and more importantly, away from him.

--/--

Jones checked on her constantly, asked her to visit his office and every time, Emma got a flash of fear. She’d done something wrong. This was the end. Back to her crappy job and crappy pay and no more free time with Henry. She’d walk towards his office, bracing herself for the blow, and then he would just smile and welcome her. She would sit down and he’d asked how work was going, if she understood everything, if she had encountered any problems. And he would always finish with asking how Henry was.

It was always on a Tuesday.

--/--

Gold’s Auctioning House had a company holiday, two set weeks in July where every single one of them had time off. It had been part of the allure, part of why Emma eagerly responded to the rubric in the paper. Because no matter how shitty her job or boss could be, those two weeks were set in stone. Looking back, her boss had not been shitty and her job had only sucked because of the long hours and low pay. She never would've imagined that by the time July rolled by, she would’ve been promoted to an actual fun job with actual good hours. Either way, July meant two uninterrupted weeks spent with Henry and now that she’d received a higher pay, they would be able to go places, to do things.

Apparently, July also meant a Books and Manuscripts barbecue right before the holiday began. It was tradition, Belle had told her. Something that came into place when Jones had transferred from the London division right before the holiday and had wanted to get to know everyone before he officially became their boss.

Emma decided to ignore the event, decided to forego the fuss and simply stay home and watch a movie or two. She wasn’t really the socializing type and to be forced to converse with her colleagues, whom she barely knew, while eating hamburgers in some sort of team spirit before singing Kumbaya around the campfire, was something she could live without.

But she was careless and left the invitation lingering around her apartment and it ended up just in the right place for her best friend to find as she came to watch Henry. Mary Margaret Blanchard was her guardian angel—a mother even, had they not been only three years apart. She was kind and smart and was also a big supporter of Emma having a social life. So when she had cast her eyes on the sheet of paper, she had instantaneously offered to babysit, proposed a shopping trip and convinced Emma she should get to know the people she worked with.

All of which, Emma now regretted accepting.

Except for the shopping, because the red summer dress she was wearing was stunning and accentuated just the right places.

Her fingers toyed with the glass in her hand, with the condensation gathering on the outside, drawing little figures, writing her name in boredom. She truly knew no one here, no one of the overwhelming mass of people chatting and drinking and eating. She did not even realize this many people worked in the department. After another sweep of her company, she spotted Belle’s chestnut hair twisted into a braid. She was wearing a purple sundress and was engulfed in a conversation with a tall woman with bright red lips. They laughed and the sound was enough to chase away Emma’s idea to join them.

She took a sip of champagne and closed her eyes, letting the July sun warm her skin. The feeling made her lips curl in enjoyment.

“May I have your attention?” The voice broke her out of her summer delight and made her eyes pop open. She knew that voice.

Her suspicion was right because when her vision returned, Jones stood on a small stage, glass of champagne in his hand and all of the looks directed towards him.

“Thank you all for joining me in celebrating yet another successful year. This year has been the department’s most profitable year and that would not have been possible without all of your efforts. Mr. Gold has asked me to transfer his gratitude towards everyone and his hope that you will all participate to try and make next year even more successful. But let’s not think of that just yet. First, there are two weeks of well-deserved holiday that we all should enjoy to the fullest before returning to work. Heaven knows I will.” The crowd chuckled. “Enjoy the food and drinks and enjoy your holidays. It’s been a pleasure.” Jones lifted his glass and the others copied the movement before clapping with wide smiles.

Killian Jones was, besides Belle, the only one she had spoken with in the month following her promotion and he was the only one with whom the subjects of conversation were not solely dedicated to work. But surely he was busy at this event that he had organized and she did not want to bother him with her company. There was also the matter of her uncertainty when situations involved him. He was her boss but because of Henry and his curiosity, their lives were more intertwined than they should be.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea in the first place to have let him near Henry, to have let them bond because she now had her boss and her child constantly asking about one another. It was easy, though, to pretend Jones really was his father even if it only was on Tuesday; Henry gained a role model and she gained focus on her work. And god, if the sight of them playing pirate or dinosaur hadn’t attacked her heart enough already, her kid talking about his Mr. Killian as if he had hung the moon and lit the stars certainly would.

She grew sick of appearing lonely and fiddling around, having been on the receiving end of pitiful looks far too often, so she grabbed herself a new glass, placed a couple of onion rings—she owed the person who put them on the menu a profuse thank you—on one of the cardboard plates and removed herself from the party.

The park the gathering was held in was not particularly large but it was big enough to put a considerable distance between her and the people—person—she was avoiding while still being able to have a visual on them. There was a pond, an idyllic mass of water with water lilies on the edge and a pair of ducks occasionally traversing it, and it seemed like the perfect place to sit and relax and eat her onion rings. Her eyes fell on a bench, brown with green, mossy discolorations and with a view of the pond. Emma carefully picked a spot that was not tarnished by moss or bird poop that would not stain her new dress and sat down.

She was about to take a bite from her second onion ring when the sound of footsteps crackled along the branches lying on the cobblestone pathway, the connection between the party and the calm, the others and her. Emma looked up, fully expecting the intruder to be one of her colleagues out on a stroll or out for a smoke and preparing herself for a cordial nod before turning back to her food.  It wasn’t someone there to enjoy the scenery or inhale toxic fumes, it was him.

Mr. Jones. Mr. Killian, whatever. Him.

“Here you are, Swan.” He moved a branch out of the way to reach her. “I was afraid you had left."

The words made her frown. She didn’t matter. Why would he be afraid she had left? How did he even notice her absence?

He was nicely dressed but it had a casual air, as if he had just randomly picked something out of his dresser and put it on. The white shirt was tight around his body, emphasized every curve of his muscles and every sharp edge of his physique. He had one sleeve rolled up to his elbow and the other hung loosely over his left arm. Unlike other times she had seen him, he was now wearing a prosthetic, a near-to-life limb with curved fingers.

"Nope,” she said, her lips popping against each other. “Only wanted to isolate myself without really leaving."

Jones nodded towards the empty spot beside her, asking permission to join her and Emma agreed, seeing no direct reason to deny him. If he felt like sitting on a bench overlooking the pond with her, it was his right to do so. It was a free country after all.

"Ah, I get that."

"Isn't this your party?" Emma questioned the understanding he showed.

He had just made a speech to congratulate them all, had just been received with applause and smiles of his doting employees. There should be no reason he would want to leave them.

"I organized it but it's their—" Jones motioned his head to the others vividly babbling and drinking and eating. “—party.”

Quite a few things that she wanted to say appeared in her mind, but her gut told her they would all lead to risky waters, to too heavy conversations for the light and sunny day they were enjoying. And seeing that she forbade herself from uttering her thoughts, Emma chose not to reply, causing silence to dance around them.

It wasn't uncomfortable, perhaps a little unfamiliar, but not extremely so. They just had to adjust to being around each other without Henry babbling between them—without Henry in general and outside of work. Not that Emma was foreseeing a lot of situations where that would be necessary.

"So," Jones said, cautiously and metaphorically tapping the silence, creating a crack and a break. "—any fun plans for the holiday?"

The question was an ordinary one, one she would expect a lot of her colleagues would ask each other in curiosity or politeness, but Emma still hesitated to tell him her plans, to indulge him. It had been difficult enough to cut all—non-professional—ties with him and keep Henry away from him, wasn't telling him all about her two weeks off reverse all of the efforts she had made?

In the end, the soft blue of his eyes and the kind smile on his lips were enough to persuade her otherwise. She wiped her hands on a napkin, getting rid of the excess grease from the onion rings, and clasped her hands together before answering.

"Probably let my kid boss me around.” She shrugged. “It's been awhile since he’s had his mom for him all alone.”

Jones let out a sound that wasn't just a chuckle but also not only a hum; it was a mixture of both and Emma couldn't stop the desire to hear it more often from sneaking in.

"He's a lucky lad.”

She sensed the duality of his words, the underlying meaning of the statement and decided it was best to not reply. Too heavy conversations and all that.

"And you?" she eventually asked, "Any plans for the next two weeks?"

"Yes,” he replied, stretching the word out until it was nothing but a hiss. “I'm going on a cruise.”

Her brow slightly furrowed as she tilted her head in surprise.

"Huh.” Her eyebrows rose again and her expression became more neutral, or more positive, at least. “Cool. Didn't peg you as a cruise kinda guy, though.”

Jones lifted his shoulders, the white fabric of his shirt clinging to him like a second skin moving along.

“And yet, I am still going.”

He responded with a kind of defensiveness that made Emma look for a way to defer the conversation into a less dangerous territory and if the only way to do that was to talk about herself, so be it.

“I’ve never been on a boat.”

A sound of amusement left Jones’ mouth and it made Emma frown, retracing her steps and words to look for a clue as to what he considered so entertaining, especially so quickly after the shift in his mood.

“They’re called ships, not boats. There’s a difference,” he indulged her after noticing the crease between her eyebrows.

“I haven’t been on a ship either, so I did not know that.” Her words were creating her own defensive reaction; she didn’t want to seem uneducated, oblivious to ordinary things that he seemingly was an expert in. Emma didn’t want to stay that woman that didn’t belong with the crowd because he had brought her there.

“You really haven’t?”

Eyes focused on the calm and undisturbed water, Emma shook her head.  “Nor have I left the country.” She was supplying him with so much information and she couldn’t figure out why. She’d been so careful during their previous interactions, sticking to simple greetings and farewells. They entailed no risk but what she was doing right now did.

“Well, my accent kind of betrays that I have.” He was drawing the attention back to himself, which Emma appreciated greatly.

“It does.” Her movement slightly slowed down by her hesitance, Emma turned her head. Her teeth created a dent in her lower lip as she considered letting the conversation stop there and them part ways again, as she thought about staying in his company a bit longer. “Belle told me something about London?” The latter seemed far more tempting.

“Aye.” And if he was surprised that Belle and Emma had discussed him, he didn’t let it show, he simply told his story undeterred. “I was born south of London, moved there after I graduated from university, started working at Gold’s, became second-in-command and when Gold was searching for someone to temporarily take over the new New York division, until it was up and running, I took the chance.”

“You just up and left?”

“I did,” he said, making it sound so effortless to detach all connections and settle somewhere new. “Seemed a bit of an adventure. I don’t regret it.”

Emma hummed, letting him know she understood. “You were able to just start over. Can’t say how many times I’ve wanted that.”

His cyan eyes watched her carefully and Emma became too aware of her breathing and her movements and of every blink. He was trying to read her, to figure her out; she was no stranger to the feeling, the little alarm bells screaming that there was a trespasser over and over again. No one had ever actually managed—not without her full and complete consent—to figure her out, but it did not seem as if Jones required her to lower her defenses. His look was too understanding for that to be the case, too suffocatingly soft.

She cleared her throat, attempting to stop the obstruction preventing her from properly breathing, but it was in vain. It was all too much.

“I think I'm going to go home,” Emma broke the spell. “I don't want to bother my best friend with Henry for too long.”

“I'm certain the lad is being his stellar self.”

And again, Emma had no idea what to reply. Should she thank Jones? Pretend she didn't hear the compliment? Wave it off as if Henry wasn't the amazing child he was? Take credit for her kid being himself?

“I'm sure he is, but even Henry's stellar self can be a lot to handle sometimes.” Emma stood up and Killian followed the movement with his eyes. She reached for her empty plate of onion rings to dispose of it, but he put a halt to it.

“I’ll take care of it,” he said.

Emma’s hand hung awkwardly in the space between them, before she retracted it and clasped her hands together, the thumb of her right one nervously rubbing the palm of her left. “Thanks.”

He rose as well, his hand grabbing the greasy cardboard plate and towered over her as he approached. Emma had to tilt her head to be able to look him in the eyes and when she did, he simply smiled. It was an everyday gesture but somehow felt so rare. Like she had never seen a smile before, nor did she know dimples could appear and she wasn’t aware the skin around his eyes would crease.

Before she knew it, her own lips curled too. Across from each other, they stood, neither making any movements to leave. If Emma wasn’t too much in denial of it all, she would consider it a moment between them.

“I have to go get—” she reminded him and more importantly herself.

“—Henry. I know,” he finished her sentence while lifting a corner of his lips.

Emma blinked and quickly wetted her lips, her mind racing along roads filled with possible answers and responses, until it slowed down and settled for a kind and casual, “Have fun on your cruise.”

“I will, thank you. Have fun letting Henry boss you around.”

“I will too.”

“I’ll see you in two weeks, Swan.”

He nodded—and possibly winked but it happened so fast Emma wasn’t certain—before retracing his steps and leaving along the same path he had come, her little plate in his hand. Her gaze was glued to his backside as he exited and detected his now relaxed shoulders and the little spring in his step.

It was a good thing she had time to recover and clear her mind after today because she definitely needed it. Those two weeks would come in very handy.

--/--

Day two of Emma’s vacation and Henry had already made a schedule of what they would do on what day. Well, Henry had rambled things that were both manageable and quite frankly impossible—a trip to the moon was slightly over budget—and Emma had made a selection, planning them accordingly. Today, they were going to the zoo; tomorrow, spend the day with Mary Margaret and David; on Thursday, they would bake cupcakes, and so the list went on.

“I really wanna see the monkeys and the tigers and the giraffes and um… Mommy!” Henry pulled her arm. “Do you think they have cobras?”

“I don’t know, Henry,” Emma answered truthfully. “We’ll have to ask, but cobras are very dangerous animals.”

Emma scanned the street for oncoming traffic and tightened her grip on Henry’s small hand as they crossed the street, a couple of steps closer to where the fun would begin and all of her son’s questions would be answered.

It was silent again and Emma could already spot the bustle of people, the parents with their offspring in tow, making their way to the zoo. It was a perfect day, not too warm, not too cold, perfectly average, for a visit to the zoo and it was clear she hadn’t been the only parent to think so. They stood still while Emma was grabbing everything she required before entering.

“Mommy! Mommy!”

“What is it, Henry?” she said a bit annoyed, eyes and hands scouring the insides of her purse for their reservation and her wallet.

“It’s Mr. Killian.”

Emma shook her head while her eyes were still trained on the leather purse hanging on her shoulder.

“Honey, that's not possible. Mr. Killian is not—” Henry tugged on her shirt and she let out a frustrated sigh. “Henry, I’m trying to find our reservation. We can’t go inside if I don’t find them.” Her words appeared to work as the pressure on her waist disappeared. And finally, her fingers encountered the small, square of paper.

“I got them!” Emma exclaimed in victory. “Now, we can go inside, Henry.” But there was no sign of her son. “Henry?” She felt the fear soar as she could not detect his brown locks or bright backpack anywhere. She was on the verge of turning frantic, of starting to scream his name at the top of her lungs until he reappeared in the mass of people.

That was when she saw him. Both of them actually.

He had Henry in his arms and determinedly walked her way once their gazes met. He had Henry. Everything was alright, Henry was alright. He had Henry.

Emma met them halfway with both relief and anger streaming through her veins.

“Henry Swan. Don’t you ever, ever run off like that again, okay?”

“Yes, Mommy.” He pursed his lips in regret. “Wanted to say hi to Mr. Killian.” The big, brown eyes quickly filled with tears and Emma took Henry out of Jones’ arms and held onto him tightly, closing her eyes while basking in the feeling.                                      

“I know, baby, but you gotta be careful, alright. What if it wasn’t really Mr. Killian? What if you couldn’t find me again? That would not be good, would it?” The liquid of Henry’s tears drenched through her shirt and Emma gently bounced up and down to calm him down a bit, cupping his head.

“Sorry,” he mumbled against her shoulder and instead of replying Emma chose to kiss the top of his head to reassure him, to tell him her anger mostly consisted of fear.

She breathed Henry’s smell in and let the air woosh back out in relief. Opening her eyes anew, she was reminded of his presence. Jones seemed perfectly content with just watching them, though.

Emma slightly frowned and claimed his attention with a soft voice, almost a whisper, “I thought you were on a cruise?”

“Ah,” was the first thing he said and it was followed by his hand disappearing into his hair. “I canceled it. Realized I wasn’t really a cruise kinda guy.” His lips moved into a smirk as he repeated her words from a couple of days ago.

It wasn’t really her place to question him about his whereabouts and he did just bring her son back to her. Something she hadn’t even thought about, hadn’t even thanked him for yet.

“Thank you.” Her head motioned toward the three-year-old in her arms.

In response, Jones’ shoulders went up in a minimizing shrug. “Don’t mention it, Swan.”

Of all the things she had noticed about Mr. Jones, the way he minimized his actions was one of the more surprising ones. Types like him often boasted about their accomplishments and acts of benevolence with a puffed out chest, but Jones always swept them aside to a point where one could think he was embarrassed by all the good he did, of all the fame he received in return. He had voluntarily spent hours with Henry to make her work easier and never once asked for something in return, insisting that he did not require anything. A thank you from Emma’s part had even been too much sometimes, his hand already waving it away before her lips could close around the word. Maybe Emma had miscategorized him, placed him in a group with people he did not belong with, with characteristics he did not have. But where did he belong? Who was Killian Jones?

Henry moved, leaving Emma’s shoulder that was functioning as a hiding place, and shyly looked up at her. The remnants of tears lingered on the edges of his eyes and Emma felt the sight tug on her heart, felt her motherly mode activate as she tenderly wiped them away and offered him some more consolation.

“You think you’re ready to see the monkeys and the tigers now?” she asked. Henry sniffed and nodded but the answer wasn’t enough to satisfy Emma. “But are you completely sure, because we could go home too, if that’s what you wanted.”

He leaned back, straightened his back and started shaking his head. First, slowly but as his conviction grew, the movement accelerated, shaking both Henry and her.

“No, no, no, no, no. Henry is ready. I wanna see all of the monkeys.”

Emma laughed, happy with the return of her kid, of how she knew him to be.

“Well, if that’s what you want, then we’ll go see all of the monkeys,” Emma confirmed before setting her son back on the ground. Holding him for longer periods of time was getting more difficult now that he was growing so fast. It all went by in a flash. She could still remember when small, little Henry was placed into her hands. It had changed everything and Emma would be the first to admit it had not all been a fairytale with rainbows and sunshine, but it had been real. Filled with pain and tantrums and wondering if their life would ever become better, but they had made it. Together.

Henry clasped his small hand around hers when her arms dropped him off on the ground and it seemed like he had momentarily forgotten about the presence of his beloved Mr. Killian too, because his eyes widened when he saw him.

“Mr—” His greeting was interrupted by a small hiccup, a side effect of the crying fit he had been afflicted with. “Mr. Killian,” he attempted again. “Mommy and Henry are going to the zoo. Will you come too?”

Emma should’ve seen this coming. Of course, Henry would want him to join them.

“Henry.” It was said in a mix of disapproval and regret she had perfected over the years. “I’m sure Mr. Killian has better things to do than to go to the zoo.”

It was a lie. She was anything but convinced, to be honest. Jones had been standing with them for a while, had patiently endured Henry’s meltdown, Emma’s soothing, their talking. If he had anything better to do, he probably would’ve excused himself, left right after he had reunited mother and son. None of that happened, instead, he stood across them with an expression Emma could not decipher.

“I don't actually,” Jones replied, confirming her suspicion. “If your mum’s alright with it, lad, I would love to come along.” His attention moved from Henry to her, and not for the first time, Emma found herself attacked by two sets of puppy eyes.

“Mommy, mommy. Please, please.”

To deny them their request, required willpower Emma did not possess. Or she did but it was not reserved for unforeseen situations like this where she would only make the owners of the puppy eyes sad by saying no. So, while she mentally prepared herself for a whole day in the presence of Jones, she nodded.

“Okay, fine. Mr… Killian—” She gestured towards him in surrender. “—can visit the zoo with us. But no shenanigans. From either of you.” She sent them both a warning look, one they both did not notice as they were happily smiling at each other. “Those are my terms,” Emma stipulated.

“Well, I have a condition too,” Jones said and Emma frowned. Surely, he must have realized he wasn't in the position of having conditions. She was the one granting him a day with them and he was the one gaining in this situation. He and Henry.

“My treat. The tickets,” he clarified. “I'll pay them.”

While it was a generous offer, Emma felt dismayed by it, almost offended.

“I don’t need you to be some kind of savior. I am perfectly able to pay for this myself.”

Jones’ hand came in front of him to calm her down, to reassure her that his motives were true.

“I know, Swan.” There was no irritation, no embarrassment, no smarty undertone. Just sincerity. He knew. “I simply wanted to thank you for letting me tag along.”

Oh.

The shame warmed her cheeks and turned her skin a rosy color. Her free hand brushed some hair behind her ear while attempting to cool off her face by subtly placing her palm on it.

“Sorry. Um… I had already reserved some tickets for Henry and me online but I'm sure you can just buy another one...”

An impatient pull snapped her out of the situation.

“Mommy. I wanna go to the zoo.”

“Yeah, kid. We're going right now.”

Jones was, though she shouldn't be surprised, a connoisseur of both sea animals and birds, providing all of them with elaborate background stories on the animals they saw, and was therefore, even more, Henry's hero. They walked and he pointed and by the time they had almost done the entire tour. Even Emma had learned new things and some interesting fun facts.

The zoo had a carousel, an old but well-maintained ride with horses, and Henry visibly lit up when he set eyes on it. As fast as his little legs could transport him, he ran until he stood before it.

He looked back at Emma and while he had not uttered a word, she knew he was asking for permission. In reply, Emma nodded, causing Henry to gleefully laugh at the prospect of getting a ride on the attraction.

A bench stood a bit further, far enough to avoid the bustle of excited children and hovering parents, but close enough to be able to keep an eye on Henry. Her feet were slightly hurting after the hours of walking they had done and the prospect of sitting down was far too alluring. She sat on one side and felt Jones covertly occupy the other one. With the utmost stealth, Emma risked a glance towards him. His eyes were on the carousel, focused enough for Emma to dare and turn her head completely, her stealth forgotten. She watched the curve of his jaw, the light stubble that adorned it, the way his eyelashes hit the apple of his cheek every time he blinked.

He must have sensed her watching him—not that she was that subtle—as he turned his head and met her eyes. His somewhat shy smile prompted Emma to ask something she'd been wanting to for a while.

“Did you actually cancel your cruise? Because I’m quite good at spotting a lie and I wasn’t kidding when I said you didn’t seem like a cruise kinda guy.”

“No.” His gaze flickered back to the carousel as he briefly shook his head. Emma couldn't say she was surprised by the answer but she did expect extracting it out of him would've been more difficult. “I did not cancel my cruise because I never booked it.”

It did not come as a shock to Emma, nor did the knowledge that he lied to her sting like it normally did. She abhorred liars, hated it when their words were badly received by the lie detector embedded in her brain. And once a liar, always a liar, especially if it involved such a small lie that could be avoided. If his first instinct was to lie, it always would be. But somehow, it was different with him.

The circumstances were the same; he had lied because he wanted to hide something and he'd told the lie twice. Emma's reaction to finding out, however, was not. She was calm and was ready to hear his story. Maybe it was her gut telling her that he was a good guy and his lie was not meant to hurt anyone, just to protect himself. How her gut had figured that out, she had no idea.

“Why did you lie?”

Jones wiped his hand on the jeans of his pants, rubbing and clenching, telltale signs of nervousness. Emma did not want to put him on the spot, force him to tell his tale to a virtual stranger when he was not ready.

“I don’t know if this makes it better or worse but as far as our colleagues know, I’ve gone on a cruise every single year since they’ve known me.”

“And you’ve never actually gone,” Emma concluded.

“No.” His eyes sought out hers only to break the connection again when they crossed. “I’ve spent every holiday in New York. To think of it, it’s a miracle I haven’t run into anyone sooner. It’s not like I’m in hiding or something.”

“Far from it, Henry was able to spot you from a mile away.” Emma softly smiled, simply turning the corners of her mouth upwards but keeping her lips glued to each other. “But why though? Isn’t it just easier to tell everyone you’re not going anywhere than lie?”

“I’m their boss.” Jones shrugged. “They all expect me to go on some extravagant trip around the world because that’s who they think I am, who they perceive me as. When I moved here, I wanted to start anew, not drag my past along, so I put on an act. And staying home all alone did not fit that act.”

Emma opened her mouth to react but was interrupted.

“Mommy!” They both changed their demeanor, pretended their topic of conversation was far lighter than it truly was and smiled when Henry came running. “It was so fun!”

Killian Jones was broken, Emma realized. It seemed like he genuinely enjoyed Henry’s company and that Henry acted as a distraction of his brokenness. She understood—the being broken, the solitude, the little sparkle of hope that Henry could be in a bleak existence. It would seem that they were a lot alike. Kindred spirits. That realization shifted the way she saw things. The way she saw him.

“Killian,” Emma addressed him for the first time, “I was wondering if you’d like to join Henry and me again tomorrow. We’re going to buy cupcakes and eat them in the park.”

Both Henry and Killian watched her with big eyes, the one in surprise and joy, the other in utter shock and confusion.

“Are you certain?” His dark brows furrowed. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Oh, you won’t,” Emma assured. Her lips were a smile, her voice kind. “I’m sure Henry would love to spend some more time with Mr. Killian, wouldn't you, Henry?”

“Yes!”

Emma looked from Henry to Killian, her eyebrow raised to ask him once again but without words and Killian nodded in acquiescence.

“Then it's settled.”

His hands were sweaty, a clear external sign of his internal nervousness. Or perhaps it was excitement; or a sweat-inducing mix of the two.

Emma had invited him to spend another day together with her and her son after their run-in yesterday. This was different though; yesterday was one hundred percent coincidental, only occurring because Henry had seen him while he and his mother were waiting before the entrance of the zoo and as Killian was making his way to the docks. It was a joyful reunion. They had not seen each other in weeks and while he couldn't assume anything about Henry, Killian surely had missed his Tuesday companion.

It had taken Killian about seventeen seconds of Henry's babbling to realize that he was missing a blonde mother, or his blonde mother was missing Henry. He grabbed ahold of Henry and scanned the crowd in search of her.

He had found her, they had found each other and they had spoken and walked and watched animals and it had been a long time since he had had such a diverting day. Which was why, when Swan proposed another one, he had to put a break on his excitement so his wholehearted ‘yes’ would not seem too eager.

Which was why he felt nervous as he waited on a bench by the entrance of the park Emma had told him to be at three p.m..

There were still four minutes left until the levers of his watch would signal it was time. Killian had been watching them constantly, keeping an eye on the time, letting the minutes tick by. He was a punctual man, always had been. There was a whole backstory to why he considered tardiness as most irksome, one that was filled with pain and heartbreak. Liam and he quickly learned in life that people who tended to be late were often of the unreliable sort and they were to be banished from their lives, avoided at all costs, in order to prevent history from repeating itself.

He rarely took risks just because of that reason, because taking risks had led to losing people and losing people had led to sorrow, sorrow had led to drinking and losing complete control and that had almost ruined his life. So he took back the reins, got his life in order, started anew, and was always on time.

That hadn’t changed but this definitely was a risk. Everything involving Swan and her boy had been, and still, he pursued, continued bonding with them, kept on meeting them and accepted their invitation. Because not taking risks could be very lonely at times.

It was forty-nine seconds to three p.m. when they appeared in his sight, walking hand in hand, engaged in a vivid conversation.

Stretching his legs, Killian stood up as they approached to greet them properly. There was nothing fraudulent about the happiness that he beamed, this was truly what their company did to him.

“Emma, Henry,” he acknowledged when they came close enough.

“Killian,” Emma politely retributed.

“Mr. Killian!” Henry almost yelled, his childish enthusiasm taking over. “Look, pirates!” Henry’s small index went to point at his bright shirt that was indeed decorated with pirates and ships.

“That’s incredible, lad. I’m very jealous of your T-shirt.”

“Mommy.” Henry pulled on Swan’s white blouse. “Mr. Killian likes my pirates.”

Emma laughed. “I know, honey. I heard. You clearly chose the best T-shirt to wear today.”

They began to walk in the direction of the playground, Henry filling the small promenade with words that were occasionally difficult to follow and seemed to skip from one topic to another but that were very entertaining nonetheless. The boy’s imagination kept on astounding him time and time again. He’d make a fine author or storyteller one day, of that Killian was sure.

The time flew by as Henry went up the slide and down, swung forwards and backwards on the swing, and built and destructed a castle made out of sand.

“Hey,” Emma addressed him, “do you think you can handle Henry alone for a while? That way I could go get the cupcakes.”

“Aye, love. No problem. I’ll keep a close eye on him.” Killian solemnly nodded while promising the safety of her son in his hands—well... hand. Emma smiled and brushed her palm along his shoulder in a thankful gesture.

“You’re a hero. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She turned her heads. “Henry, I’m going to get our cupcakes. Behave yourself with Killian, okay?”

Waving, Swan left them alone. She trusted him. Enough to leave her son with him. She had done that before, multiple times even but there was a difference. His office bore fewer risks than an open, public playground especially with a child like Henry. Emma Swan trusted him. The knowledge brought a smile to his lips as he let it sink in.

“Mr. Killian, look!”

A woman walked by. She was older—mid-sixties Killian would presume, her perfectly coiffed dark hair streaked with grey and her tanned skin wrinkled—and was taking her dog out for a walk. It had the cutest set of floppy ears and a grey tail and as soon as Henry saw the dog, he ran towards it in typical Henry-like fashion. There was no stopping this boy.

“Henry, wait!” he yelled, trying to prevent him from attacking the dog and possibly spooking it, but the woman waved her hand to show it was alright.

“You don’t have to worry. Alma is a good girl, she won’t hurt anyone,” she spoke, a different culture coloring and shaping her words.

“Alma?” Henry asked, hands scratching Alma’s back. “That’s pretty.”

“Well, thank you. And what is your name?” The woman slightly kneeled—which was impressive considering the height of her heels—to diminish the distance between her and Henry.

“Henry.” He watched the woman with big eyes, attempting to take everything—the hair, the jewelry, the clothes—before him in. Killian was accustomed to these kinds of people, they were his biggest customers—who else would spend hundreds or thousands of dollars on the books and manuscripts Gold’s Auctioning House had to offer—but he could see that Henry was not. His eyes darted from one place to another, not knowing where to stop.

“Nice to meet you, Henry.” The hand that wasn’t holding Alma’s leash kindly shook Henry’s. “I’m Isabel and this is Alma.”

Alma reacted to her name, enthusiastically barking and startling Henry out of his reverie. His little feet were trampling on the grass in anticipation or longing to run and play with Alma and it seemed like Killian wasn’t the only one that picked up on that, Isabel letting go of her connection with Alma and giving the dog her freedom back. Henry looked at Killian and with a nod, he received the same.

“Mind if I join you?” Isabel asked Killian as he settled on a bench.

“Be my guest,” he said with kindness.

Their heads moved synchronously from left to right as if they were watching a match of tennis instead of the game of fetch Alma and Henry were participating in, both of them running and jumping and making sounds of exhilaration.

“How wonderful children are.” Isabel shook her head in astonishment, her brown eyes sparkling in delightment.

“They truly are,” Killian agreed softly, the same sparkle most likely reflected in his own blue eyes as well.

By the time Swan joined them again, cupcakes stored in a box between her hands, she began laughing at the scene—Henry peppering Alma with butterfly kisses—in front of her and continued to do so when Henry almost tackled her while chanting “Mommy!”

“Hey, kid.”

“I’ll clear some space for you,” Isabel said when Henry and Emma reached them. Killian rushed to intercept her but it was too late as she called Alma, the animal faithfully followed her order and approached the bench. She stood up, smoothed the fabric of her skirt and smiled at the three of them.

“You have an adorable family,” Isabel complimented.

He blanked, not knowing how to respond to the statement. They weren’t a family, only… well, Killian did not really know what they were. He was her boss, she was his employee, she was Henry’s mom. Nothing more.

“Thanks.” Emma accepted the compliment and smiled back at the woman she had only just met.

“Bye Alma, bye Izzie!”

Killian couldn’t help but send Swan a quizzical look once Isabel had turned her back.

“It's easier just to say thanks than to explain everything to a stranger.” She shrugged.

The sky had begun to turn that orangey-pink, the one that was quintessential to the beginning and the end of a day, without which the feeling of a new start and a content completion would be lost.

After devouring all of the cupcakes, they had played some more and talked some more. Killian couldn’t make himself leave, couldn’t make himself face that content completion so he tagged along to extend the day as long as he could. They bought a light dinner, the cupcakes still very present in their stomachs, and ate it too. He would’ve left if he felt unwelcome but the signals Swan was giving him were far from that. She was warm, tried to include him in every conversation, laughed with everything he said. She was making an effort and he didn’t know whether he should be grateful or wondering what had warranted the change. After dinner, Henry had almost collapsed on the grass they were picnicking on, the events of today so exciting and exhausting and all of the running and jumping catching up on him.

Emma watched his little chest inflate and deflate. “I hate it when I have to wake him up when he’s so soundly asleep, but we have to walk all the way home.”

Killian followed the direction of her gaze to the closed eyes of the three-year-old. He looked so peaceful and Killian understood Emma’s hesitance to interrupt that peace.

That was the only reason he made the suggestion to carry him home for her.

“Oh no,” Swan objected. “I couldn’t make you do that.”

“I’m offering, Swan.”

“But…” Her sentence died when he raised his eyebrows, challenging the words that were going to come out of her mouth. “Alright.” Her hands went up “Go ahead.”

It proved to be more of a challenge than he expected, lifting him without waking him and with only one hand to gently maneuver him, but with the very brief assistance of Emma, Henry ended up on a comfortable spot on Killian’s shoulder with only one small sound of displeasure.

The walk was mostly calm, quiet and without any conversation, as they both did not want to wake the slumbering toddler on Killian’s shoulder, but there were moments when he silently watched her and her gaze left the stones of the street to look at them, their eyes meeting. He shyly smiled, directing his eyes to the ground as the tingles ran up and down his arms.

By the time they reached her apartment, the streets had turned dark, streetlights diligently working to provide some sort of light and Emma used that light to find her keys. She let out a triumphant sound as her hand revealed the set and opened the door to grant him access.

Their apartment was small, tiny even in comparison to his average flat, but he could see Swan’s attempts to turn it into a home for her and Henry; the toys that were stacked in a corner, the drawings that adorned the walls, the soft grey that colored the room. She had tried to reach the best result with what she had available. It made Killian think of when he was younger, when he and Liam had to fend for themselves and try to survive in a very big and unfair world. It had been such a struggle but they had managed. So had Swan.

“You can put him in the room on the left.” She pressed the light switch and brought light to the room. Her head motioned towards a closed door as she was taking off her jacket and purse. A bit hesitantly, he followed her instructions, moving Henry to his left arm and grabbing the handle to enter the room. He could make out the vague form of a bed and moved Henry into it. His small feet still had shoes on them—the easy ones with Velcro’s thank god—and Killian quickly removed them and set them next to the bed. Checking if the boy wasn’t waking, Killian let his gaze fall on the bed one last time. He turned and opened the door again, leaving Henry with a final “Goodnight, lad.”

Once he returned to the small living room, there was no sign of Emma, at least until he tread close enough to the couch to be able to peer over it. In it she lay, asleep. Bright yellow socks on her feet, bright yellow hair across her face.

“Swan.” He softly prodded her to try and wake her but it was to no avail.  “Emma,” he whispered, but still no movement. For a second, he remained next to the couch, fiddling with his fingers, before deciding what his next move was going to be. Waking her seemed too drastic, especially if she was tired enough to fall asleep on her couch after mere seconds.Sleeping on her couch, however, couldn't be very comfortable since it seemingly belonged to the lumpy category of couches. Killian was going to make Emma’s rest as pleasant as possible. He searched the tiny apartment and came across a stack of blankets. He removed one, one that had small ships on it, and laid it over Emma's unconscious form.

He checked his surroundings for anything else he could do but nothing came to mind so Killian decided to go home. Before doing so, he reached into his pocket, took out one of his business cards that bore his number and wrote something on the empty white space with the pen that resided in the opposite one.

Thank you for today. -K

--/--

He got a text the next morning from a number neither he, nor his phone, recognized saying: You are very welcome. Henry wants to go to a museum tomorrow, wanna come? -E and promptly saved the number as Swan before answering: I’d love to.

--/--

With Henry’s obsession with pirates, Killian could not not take him and his mother out to the docks for a sail on the small ship he had the honor to call his. She was old and well-used but sailed like she was great a many years younger and was an absolute beauty, in her own, esoteric way. Killian went to pick up Swan and Henry with his car and drove them to where she lay, the spot where he spent so many hours painting and tinkering, where he began and finished all of his trips into the silence and calm.

Thinking back to their very first meeting, he remembered that Henry was somewhat disappointed to hear he was not and had never been a real pirate, but Killian was hoping seeing the Roger would make up for that and if it didn’t, a sail definitely would. Henry was a sailor in his heart and soul, not to forget, even if he was too young to have actually sailed a boat on his own.

“Is this it?” The boy pointed at a random boat swaying in the water.

“No, Henry,” Killian refuted.

“This one?”

“No.”

Impatiently, Henry grunted only to receive a very stern look from Emma’s part ordering him to behave.

“Here we are,” Killian said when they had reached her. With a quick gesture, he introduced them to the location they would be spending the next couple of hours in. “Swan, Henry, this is the Jolly Roger.” He was wishing they would not be disappointed by his humble ship and it seemed his wish was granted as he let out a small gasp as they stood still before her.

“Can we go on it?”

“We can and we will,” Killian chuckled, the relief encompassing him in one swoop.

The weather was perfect, even more perfect than he could have hoped for. The sun was bright and hot in the sky, the wind offering some relief against the rays of light heating their skin. The water lapped slowly, an affable welcome for both Henry and Emma who had not been on the water before. In spite of the good weather, it was calm around the docks and on the water, the side effect of it being Tuesday, but Killian was not complaining, far from it even. If this sail did not turn out to be the best day of this holiday, he would be the sole one to blame and he was going out of his way to avoid that.

Holding out his hand, he led Henry aboard, Swan following on his heels. He could see their efforts to steady themselves on the tilting surface, see the concentration on their faces as they tried to accustom to the peculiar sensation.

“Ready to set sail?” His eyebrow went up with his question.

Swan inhaled, her shoulders rising and eventually dropping as she let the air back out in one go, before nodding and wrapping her arm around Henry. “We are.”

Using the hook prosthetic he always wore while sailing, Killian opened a crate and retrieved two life jackets. Safety above all.

“A life jacket for you, young man,” he said, pulling the bright red contraption over Henry’s head and securing it in the right places. “And one for you, Swan.” Her eyes did not waver from his as his hand touched her neck, her shoulders, her waist. His hand almost trembled with the urge to linger, to caress her pale cheek and her soft curves. It almost trembled as he fought the feeling, painfully aware of where they were and who they were. She wasn’t his to caress and that was where it ended.

“All right,” Killian said, shaking himself out of his haze of self-pity and melancholy, summoning every ounce of excitement he had felt in the previous week, “You two are my first and second mate for today so I’ll need you to follow every order you get from me, understood?”

Henry’s bobbed rapidly as he agreed while Swan replied with a quiet “Aye, aye, Captain.”

They were eager guests, wanting to help wherever and whenever they could. Killian had to tell Henry on numerous occasions that he was too small for some things and the boy had countered every time that he would be four in less than a month—not that it helped to change Killian’s initial and final decision. Emma was more of a quiet learner, taking in everything he had said and turning it into practice only moments later, a little smile following when she was successful.

After a while, the hard labor of leaving the harbor was over and the Roger was calmly floating in the water, granting them some respite after all of the work they had done. Killian had provided a basket with some food and drinks and went to fetch it below deck. When he returned, Henry was slathering a thick layer of sunscreen all over his mother’s face and arms, Swan giggling along with her son as she, in turn, treated him to a coat of protection against the sun, albeit less chaotic than how her son was rubbing and applying.

“I think Killian needs some sunscreen too, Henry.” Swan smirked as she was well aware what her words would ensue.

Henry approached Killian with greasy hands and plastered them on his face. He threw her a dirty look and she just laughed in response. After their beauty treatments, they all settled on deck and started nibbling on all of the goods Killian had brought. Henry leaned against his mother’s chest while Killian sat across them, the perfect place to watch them enjoy.

The sun hit her skin and she glowed. Her skin, her hair, the gold flecks in her mossy eyes. They all lit up as she smiled. It was in that moment that he realized that she owned his heart. He could not return to his empty existence, lonely and on his own. It was frankly impossible to after her.

She was not his but how he wanted her to be.

--/--

“You already know where he belongs,” Emma told him later that day.

Killian was carrying a sleeping Henry again, a replica of the situation that occurred over a week ago. This time, it was not crossing along the playground but the sail that had completely exhausted him.

“Aye, that I do.” Killian couldn’t stop the warmth from creeping into his voice. He knew where to put Henry because they had been here before, together and somehow he had been granted an opportunity to do it all again. To spend more days with them.

“Sleep well, Henry,” he whispered to the dark room, fully aware that the boy had been sleeping for over half an hour and would not hear him. It was the gesture that counted.

Like last time, Killian went back to the living room but different than that time, Swan was awake on the couch. A quip left his lips before he could think about it.

“I'm surprised you're still awake, Swan,” he teased. “Last time you, very unceremoniously, fell asleep.” His lips formed a smirk as he came closer.

“Haha,” she replied, the sound without any humor. “I have a kid that decided to wake me up at 5:30 am last time.” Swan grimaced. “Luckily, Henry has learned that vacation means sleeping until at least eight.”

She was settled on the couch, jacket and shoes off like last time and a blanket slightly thrown over her legs. Her locks, that she had let loose during the day, were now gathered in a hastily thrown together bun at the top of her head. She was the image of relaxation. And he was awkwardly lingering around her. It was time go home, she was clearly ready to unwind and he did not want to overstay his welcome. As usual, his hand went up to rub his neck as he gathered his courage.

“Well, I'm not going to bother you any further. Good night, Swan.”

Her forehead creased as she tilted her head and rearranged her bun.

“You can stay a bit longer if you want,” she casually proposed. “I was simply planning to watch some Netflix so you definitely wouldn’t bother.”

“Oh… um. Aye, if you’re certain I won’t be a hindrance, it would be my pleasure.”

Swan made room on the couch, inviting him to sit next to her and assuring that he would not be a hindrance. Killian began with taking off his own jacket and shoes, placing them next to hers by the door. After a calming and somewhat heartening inhale and exhale, he finally joined Emma. He chose to sit down as far from her as possible. Of course, he would not have minded to sit slightly closer but he was in her home, was invited by her to watch some television and he did not want to take advantage of that or cross any borders. So, the corner of the couch, it was.

“Any preference?” Her blonde eyebrow went up along with the remote control, explaining her words.

“As long as it isn't anything horror, not a big fan of the genre,” Killian explained, internally cringing after he uttered the words. Way to go.

“I wasn’t planning on anything horror tonight,” she reassured with a wink. “That’s reserved for Halloween and Halloween only .”

Eventually, Swan ended up choosing a light comedy that did not require a lot of paying attention, but was truly funny and entertaining to the both of them. They laughed together over the antics of the characters and, in a moment of distraction, Killian noticed how Emma threw her head back as she laughed freely. It only made his grin grow even more.

Netflix began to count down until the next episode and Swan removed the blanket from her lap and stood up. Killian followed her steps to the fridge and saw her pull two beers out of the cold storage. Swiftly, she removed the caps, the metal clinking against the stone of her counter. The rough material of the couch did not shift as she sat down again, handing him a beer while sipping from the second one. As the title song of the show blasted through the apartment again, Killian noticed how they were suddenly sitting way closer than how they had begun.

“I know I've told you this before—” Killian began as another episode had ended and they both had decided to put a stop to it here. “—but Henry truly is a magnificent lad.”

Their empty beer bottles stood on the floor, their feet were in the couch, sometimes touching and sometimes not.

“You really like him, don't you?” Emma turned to face him with a soft expression. He nodded. “Henry adores you, he cannot shut up about you, so I guess the feeling is mutual.”

Killian already knew this. Henry had been pretty straightforward and open about what he felt, like any other three-year-old. He had even been too open at times. It was his mother Killian was still unsure about. He could read her and could see that she liked their time together but doubt and fear loomed in his mind. Did she reciprocate the feelings he felt—the feelings that had surprised him by appearing but also had been there from the start?

He still didn’t know what they were and even though defining a relationship, a connection, wasn’t always necessary, Killian needed this. To not go mad, to have some sort of footing. And a man at the edge of sanity did bold things.

“What about you, Swan?” he dared to ask, locking his eyes with her green ones. “Do you fancy me?”

He had expected her to frown, to be repulsed by his question, to order him to leave her apartment, but of course Emma Swan surprised him yet again by holding his gaze and smiling.

“Occasionally,” she admitted. “What about you, Killian Jones. Do you like me?”

Words are overrated, he thought as he drifted closer to her. Words are overrated, he thought along with yes, yes, yes. I like you. So very much.

Emma caught on to what he was about to do and met him halfway the lumpy couch, her glance moving from his irises to his lips right before they took that leap of being more. It was the biggest cliché mankind had ever known but time stood still when their lips touched. It was weeks and months of build-up, of yearning looks and adoring gazes that lead up to the moment where clocks stopped ticking, the world stopped moving and he was kissing Emma Swan.

--/--

They spent an additional three days together, taking Henry places, doing things, and once Henry’ was asleep, truly enjoying each other’s company. They’d built their own little world, a bubble that was so lovely that he never wanted to leave, never wanted it to pop. But the more time they spent together, the closer the end of the two weeks of vacation got. And even though he only admitted it to himself, in the darkest hour of the night, he was afraid of what was going to happen when they did end. They were in a grey zone, somewhere where he wasn’t her boss, where they didn’t care about other people. They now were more than what they started as but less than stable. Less than stable would not work once they were forced to return to work, get back into the strenuous daily string of events.

He was desperate to hold onto this feeling, to them.

“What happens at the end of this week?” he attempted to keep the worry out of his voice, to uphold some sort of casual air and lightheartedness.

Swan’s feet were lying across his lap while she was scouring the Netflix menu. It was a picture of domesticity and they had gotten to it in under three days.

“We go back to work?” Emma answered innocently, apparently confused by his question.

“With us, Swan.” His attempts proved to fail as he suddenly sounded so very tired. It was the absolute dread that drenched his bones, the nights he spent mulling this over. She was unaware of those as he didn’t want her to know, but it was becoming more difficult to keep it all to himself

Killian felt Emma shift, sensed her feet pull back as she finally turned her head to him and moved into a position that acknowledged the earnestness of their conversation. Folding her legs beneath her, she sat upright with her hand in her lap.

“Oh.” Her eyes slightly widened, mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. The serenity left her face as she crinkled her forehead. Her tongue darted out to assuage the dent her teeth were creating.

The fear was taking over, he could see it in the way her breathing accelerated, the way her couch was suddenly not big enough for the both of them. She was preparing herself to lift her walls again, figuratively mixing the cement to glue the stones together. This was what he was afraid of. Killian needed to interfere, or her wall would be blocking his completely bare heart

“Look, Emma.” Without actually moving closer, he attempted to reduce the distance between them. “I really enjoy spending time with you two and I don't want that to stop. I can understand if you’re uncomfortable with me being your boss and the thing,” he said, not knowing what else he could call it, “between us. There are no obligations whatsoever and if you’re feeling queasy about it all, you can just tell me. We can go back to how things were before the holiday, if that’s what you prefer.”

It would be the most difficult thing, return to work as if he had not seen and experienced paradise but it would be something he’d be willing to do for her if it meant her wellbeing.

“Really?”

With a sad smile, he nodded.

Before he could realize, Emma’s lips were on his and her hands were on his jaw. It was a soft peck, over in an instant, over before he could properly kiss her back. She lingered close, foreheads connected and her breath hot against his skin. Her thumbs were simultaneously rubbing circles against the apple of his cheeks as silence fell. He did not want to ruin the moment by asking her anything and she did not feel the need to explain the sudden burst of affection.

“I don’t want to go back to how things were before,” she whispered, an admission into his skin that made his heart thump faster. “It’s going to be weird going back to work, but it would be weirder to not have this—” Her nose brushed against his cheek. “–—anymore. So, I’m completely okay with slowly figuring out what this thing exactly is.” It was a timid statement, a quiet, calculated one but it was all Killian needed. He wasn’t expecting her to make any promises that brought her into a state of panic or anywhere but her comfort zone. Reassurance that he would not have to leave them behind was enough.

Killian kissed her to substitute the words that had disappeared out of his mouth, his hand tangling in her light hair and arm snaking around her waist.  He gave and took, searched and found, was cherished and worshipped.

In the dimmed light of her apartment, they watched each other, their initial plans long forgotten. He could almost feel the veneration, it was almost tangible in the air around them; it lay heavy on his chest and yet, he would not want it gone.

“You have a scar here,” she noticed, drawing her own finger along her skin. It sounded like a report, as if he had not known the cut in his cheek had been there for over twenty-six years.

“I fell when I was two,” he explained, recalling the stories he had heard as his own memory failed to muster the image. “It was a nasty cut. Liam thought I was going to die because there was so much blood.”

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” Killian shook his head.

Silence began to surround them again, almost bringing them back to the place they were before but it did not manage to do so as Emma broke it with a question.

“Liam’s your brother?”

She didn’t know. Killian was on the verge of sighing, but held the whiff of air in. They had so much left to discover about each other, so much of their stories left untold. She had the right to know all of him, but he did not want to burden her.

“Aye, he was.” As usual, the words were accompanied with a sting, “He died a couple of years back.”

Emma crawled closer, burrowing her head under his chin, encircling his chest with her arms, until there was no space left between them, until their breaths and blinks and heartbeats occurred at the same time.

“I’m sorry.” Killian felt her hand brush across his jaw.

“It was a devastating night. Liam wasn’t the only one who died. Milah, my girlfriend back then, died as well.”

His world had been destroyed, he had ceased to exist. How could he exist without the two people whom he loved most, without the only people that loved him? It had been stupid, so stupid. Milah and he were young, went out to party but had both drunk too much and driving home was not an option. Why waste money on a cab when he had a big and worried brother at home who would not mind playing taxi? But that big and worried brother had also just gone to sleep after a double shift and had fallen asleep at the wheel as he was driving them home. Milah died. Liam died. Killian survived. It was a reversed world. How could he live and they not? How was that fair? He wanted to stop living, breathing, existing but in the end, he just stopped taking risks.

There were tears gathering at the rim of Emma’s eyes as she listened, the glitters making her eyes seem bigger, even more innocent.

The ache, the absence that used to be a throbbing all over his body, was now softer, easier to live with. It had taken moving across the globe, starting all over in a town that carried no memories of them, with people who had never known them. But, he was doing better and that was a start.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Killian.”

He was doing better and a lot of that was thanks to her.

“I never thought I'd be capable of letting go of my first love, my Milah. To believe that I could find someone else. That is until I met you.”

The tears on the edge of her eyes now fell, Killian instantly reaching out to wipe them away with the pad of his thumb. Emma leaned into his touch, closing her eyes while she basked in the feeling.

After a moment of calm, of letting the emotions steady again, she spoke, “So the Swans have finally conquered your heart?”

“You've had it for way longer than you realize.”

The fact that her boss was now also her boyfriend should be weird and awkward but it somehow wasn’t? Belle knew, including a handful of other people too but besides that, they had decided to keep it under wraps. While their relationship was very serious and came to be in a very proper and correct manner, people could think the contrary and start to trumpet false tales and gossip. And seeing that both their jobs were at risk if that were the case, as well as her child she needed to protect, a strictly business relationship on the work floor was as far as they went. And if they sometimes broke their own rules and succumbed under the tension by having a make-out session in his office after hours, Emma would attribute that to Killian’s divine looks.

But he was more than that.

Killian was sweet and funny and cheeky and just thinking of all of his characteristics made Emma break out in a grin and made her heart beat that tad faster; he was a catch and he was completely hers. Well, hers and Henry’s, but mostly hers. Ever since he’d come into her life, it had become so much better. From a better job and more free time, to helping with Henry and to feeling loved by a simple look and a small smile.

Emma couldn’t be more grateful for that one evening where Henry had run away and completely changed their future while doing so.

“Mommy.” Emma’s gaze left the dishes as she turned her head towards Henry, wiping her hands on a towel before walking towards her son. He was settled on the ground, face distorted in concentration as he attempted to build the puzzle Killian had given him for his birthday. “Is Killian my Dad?” he asked once she squatted next to him.

“What?” was Emma’s baffled reaction.

Last time she had heard this question was months ago, on that one night that made her freak out and tear Killian and Henry apart. She’d been so very wrong in doing so, she realized in hindsight, and eventually faith—or you could blame it on her curious child again—had made their paths and stories intertwine anew, this time into an inseparable mess that only became more interwoven.

“Is Killian my Dad?” Henry repeated impatiently. “He does all the things Avery does with his dad with me and he buys me puzzles and he is here all the time and I love him and Killian loves me. He should be my dad,” was his conclusion.

She wanted to freak out about what this meant and what she should reply but she couldn’t. Henry’s simple and matter-of-fact reasoning prevented her to do so. Yes, Killian did all of those things and yes, Killian loved Henry, of that Emma was sure. There had been no shortage of indications that he was all in, completely devoted to the both of them. And yes, the last couple of months Killian had been Henry’s dad, they just hadn’t used that specific term before.

So as the over-rationalizing swarm of thoughts left her brain and Emma could see clear again, Emma asked Henry a very simple question and the answer was going to determine the rest of their lives.

“Well, if that’s the case, you want to ask him if he wants to be your dad?”

There’s an angsty sequel of this fic coming at some point which will be called Trials so if you’re interested in that, keep your eyes open and if you’re not, you can easily pretend this is the actual end if angst is not your cup of tea ♥

#cs ff #captain swan #captain cobra #ouat ff #cs au #cs crew #my words and sentences #sorry for the mistakes I was rushing to actually publish this on Tuesday

[mutantenfisch]

20 QUESTIONS MEME

I’ve been tagged by @norroendyrd. :3

1, One thing you would change in your personality?

I’d love to be more like my grandpa - he’s incredibly diligent and ambitious with what he does and wants to achieve and in comparison to him I’m just a lazy butt.

2. What is your DA rare pair?

Oh damn... that’s a tricky thing.... lately I’ve developed to be really intrigued by the idea of Mage!Hawke and The Arishok and I think I’ll always have a soft spot for Alistair/Duncan... and considering in-game pairings I am really fond of Vivienne/Bastien. They give me feelsies. ♥

 3. A song that made you cry?

Duuude, I am emotional af when I hear the right song in the right time. A real tear-jerker that almost always works for me though is Alfie Boe’s interpretation off “Bring Him Home” from the 25th Anniversary concert of Les Miserables.

4. The best movie ever?

Don’t make me choose! T_T ... Maybe “The Martian”, because this is a movie I enjoy every single time I watch it. But then again I also love re-watching the Lord of The Rings trilogy or Deadpool or Disney’s Mulan... *shrugs*

5. Food you will never eat?

Thuna. I mean seriously, this species is goddamn endangered. Why should I participate in its extinction progress?

6. Your celebrity crush?

Ahahaha.... most of them are already dead (David Bowie, Christopher Lee, Jeremy Brett).... among the living there are Salma Hayek, Ken Watanabe and Dwayne Johnson. And let’s not forget Oscar Isaac who stole my ´heart in TFA...  ♥

7. Your favourite DA location and why?

I genuinely like the Hinterlands, the Hissing Wastes and the Western Approach. All of them are really beautiful and as much as I love the familiarity of the Hinterlands, as much do I love the sheer endlessness of the other two. Plus, the night sky in the Wastes is incredibly beautiful. All in all, I just enjoy exploring ridiculously much. So, the larger the area, the better. :D

8. You’re a night or a morning person?

In means of creativity - evening/night. When I want or have to be productive, I love the very early morning (4 am - 7 am) a lot, too. In any way, most days of the week I have to get up around 5 am, so I’m used to live in the morning.  It’s also wonderful to watch the area wake up - cities in the small hours of the morning when almost no-one can be seen are beautiful. 

9. You have any tattoos?

Nope, but I want to have one eventually.

10. How many languages you speak?

In means of being fluent without having to look up every second word  there are two - my native German and English. Thanks to school and university language courses I still understand and can read a bit of Russian and can survive as a tourist in either France or Spain but I’m not able to make decent conversation in any of these three languages.

11. Where would you most like to visit?

There are so many places, this list would be endless. :D Well, the top five are probably Iceland, St Petersburg (in Russia), the smaller British Isles (Orkneys, Hebrids...), New Zealand and Patagonia.

12. What’s the best book you’ve read?

Oh shut up, there are so many books that are fantastic in their own rights... I’ve really enjoyed Robert Löhr’s “Das Erlkönigmanöver”, Andy Weir’s “The Martian” - yep, the same one that has this awesome movie based on it - Michael Ende’s “ Der satanarchäolügenialkohöllische Wunschpunsch” and I genuinely enjoy well written non-fiction books and anthologies of long dead people’s letters and diaries... *ahem*Alexander von Humboldt *ahem*

13. Who is your favourite BioWare character?

Not again such a mean mean question! D: I genuinely like so many of the characters, it’s easier naming those I don’t like. Well okay, aside from the respective squads, a special place in my heart will always be here for Rica, Leske and Iona from the Origins game, Orana, Feynriel and his mum from DA II and Bull’s Chargers from Inquisition.

14. Who’s your least preferred BioWare character?

(Mother) Petrice and also Habren Bryland. 

15. What are your favourite games?

Oh dear... I love all the Elder Scrolls games I own so far (Morrowind, Oblivion, Skyrim and ESO), Assassin’s Creed as a whole franchise and the same can be said of DA :B I also really like this age old thing called “Age of Empires II - Age of Kings” and Firefly’s “CivCity Rome”

16. What’s your patronus?

According to Pottermore, I got a pheasant? I just don’t know which exact species because, you know, the English word pheasant means a few dozen of different species and sub species....

17. Cake or ice cream?

Ice cream with crumbles??

18. Dogs or cats?

Even though I’m the proud owner of a cat, I prefer dogs.

19. What was your favourite DA romance?

As playable romances I love the Morrigan romance in Origins a lot, Fenris’s romance in DA II and Blackwall’s and Cassandra’s romances in Inquisition a lot. Most of my characters tend to end up with The Iron Bull for at least a while, but that’s probably because of my personal preference. :3

20. Do you prefer sunshine or are you a winter person?

That question is a bit stupid... Sunny days in Winter are the best!

Okay...  I am tagging @missimbalance, @salzwasserbakterie and everyone who wants to :D

#i'd been tagged #mutantenfisch answers

[agentmarymargaretskitz]

rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.

The amazing @jewishraypalmer tagged me to do this so it’s procrastination time and weather is keeping me from seeing Justice League.

1. nicknames: kate, dr. skitzy, pain causer. There’s probably others you guys have thought for me after angst or I do something ridiculous. 2. gender: female 3. star sign: TAURUS 4. height: 5′8″ 5. time: 1:37 6. birthday: May 20 7. favorite bands: Fall Out Boy and The Script 8. favorite solo artists: uhhhhh Adele is all I can think of right now. TBH I pay more attention to songs rather than the artists behind them. 9. song stuck in my head: Home by Zayde Wolf (it’s such a good feelsy song look it up) 10. last movie i watched: THE DECOY BRIDE! And I need to finish my Snowlily AU of that today for @jewishraypalmer 11. last show i watched: ....Stranger Things for another AU. 12. when did i create my blog: January 2015. 13.  what do i post: Honestly whatever I’m obsessed with atm. Right now it’s Legends of Tomorrow and Stranger Things and DC stuff, plus fics and boards . 14. last thing i googled: ‘positive psychology interventions study’ 15. do i have any other blogs: Nope. 16. do i get asks: Yeah, they come in. I’m just really bad at remembering to answer because life gets annoying. 17. why i chose my url: *cue cringe attack* So when I first started this blog I loved Agents of SHIELD and Once Upon a Time. When I reviewed fics and later wrote them, I smushed the agent with one of my favorite characters and slapped on my favorite ship to make a username for my account. So I just ended up transfering that name to this blog. 18. following: 1,103 19. followers: 1,852 (and I love all of you) (No 20 question found) 21. average hours of sleep: Hahahaha that’s funny. Probably six on weekdays. 22. lucky number: I just always say 7 because I don’t feel like I have a consistent one. 23. instruments: Trombone, but I haven’t played in forever. 24. what am i wearing: Jeans, t-shirt, old jean jacket with buttons all over. (Where is 25???) 26. dream job: teacher 27. dream trip: Scotland or South Korea 28. favorite food: Blueberries 29. nationality: American 30. favorite song right now: I honestly have way too many. Way way way too many. But I guess Legend by the Score since that gave me a load of feels for one of the fics i’m writing.

Tagging @chillin-like-villains, @pretzel-log1c, @coldflashwave-baby, @somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds, @shesthemuscle, @shy-nerd, @trashgaryen, @ardentlinguist, @occxmy, @ithemetahumancrusader, @jimmyfission, and anyone else who really wants to do this.

#kate does shit #about me

[dauriculaire]

Léa, the wonderful owner of the blog Otome Street (*c’est en français) asked me a few questions about otome CDs a while back, and here are my answers! ( • v • )

1. Tell us a little about yourself, and what you do on your blog! ~

Hello! ( • ᴗ • ) I’m Dauri, and I run a small niche blog that exclusively covers “adult”/(R18) drama CDs in the otome category, a genre that has recently gotten popular within the past few years. I translate and post information about new releases, and occasionally make not-witty-but-sort-of-witty jokes and commentary about them. Sometimes, I even have enough spare time to answer asks!

And if anyone asks, yes, I’m legal.

2. How did you get interested in otome CDs?

Me and smutty drama CDs go way back, but I remember that my thing was otome games before I got into otome CDs. All of this started 5-6 years back. There was a seiyuu* whose character and voice I absolutely adored, so I naturally tried to find his other work to fill the empty void when I finished his route in the game for the 1000th time. Then I found out that he voiced a character in the (SFW) otome drama CD series, Shuukan Soine (週刊添い寝 )... and then he was announced to be in a new R18 drama CD—a genre, that, as I mentioned, was really rare at the time. Because I was thirsting after him like no other wanted to hear his voice again, I was totally down for that and the rest is history...

*I doubt anyone can guess who the seiyuu on the first try because he’s not actually considered one of my favorites anymore, but... you can try... ( • v • )

3. What do you think is their "appeal"? Why do people get drawn to them?

For non-rated, SFW otome CDs, sometimes the plots are actually really interesting, and I think listening to a drama CD that’s like that is quite like listening to an audiobook, in some way—except that, if it’s a CD in which the character is speaking directly to you, the listener, you may feel more of a connection and are thus more drawn to the character and the plot.

On the other hand, while some rated/adult otome CDs have very intriguing plots as well (Hanakagami, Milky Chain, D’avrilmoon, Operetta, and Hitsujigumo are the top producers that come to mind when I think of plot-heavy) the emphasis is on the carnality and the loveliness of hearing a character (or a seiyuu) in question moan into your ears. ( • ᴗ • ) I think that reason is self-explanatory and perfectly reasonable, no? It’s smut for the people who are more excited about audio than they are by visuals. It’s often said that women, which otome CDs are made for, can be more aroused by audio and text than they are by visuals, so it makes sense that a lot of women are drawn to rated drama CDs instead of other... adult media.  

Plus, some people just have a voice fetish. (*Raises hand*)

4. Are there different "types" of otome CDs and if so, what is your favorite?

Well, you can characterize otome CDs in a variety of ways—by character types, plot lines, voice types, and purposes. In the rated/adult genre of otome CDs, the common character types are things like the senpai, the kouhai, the teacher, the boss, the co-worker, the boyfriend, the yandere, etc., and these are often crossed with a sort-of-generic plot-line like “more than friends but not lovers,” “forbidden love,” “just fluff,” and the list goes on and on. I’m not an expert on non-rated otome CDs, but I feel like non-rated otome CDs can be sorted by plot more than rated otome CDs can be. (Because let’s face it, not a lot of people listen to smut for the plot, unless you’re Dauri.)

If you’ve seen my blog, you can probably guess what my favorite is now. Anything consensual and smutty. I like a lot of fluff (癒し系) oriented CDs but I’m kind of a glutton for drama at the same time, so I do like conflict and angst in my plots from time to time.

5. What are your favorite otome CDs, and the ones you would recommend to "beginners" who are just getting to know the world of otome CDs?

My favorite non-rated otome CDs were the Shuukan Soine series, the Danna-sama series, and the Honeymoon series. If you’re asking about what my favorite R18 drama CDs are, I don’t think I could possibly answer in a few words, because I’d have to make another list... 💦 

But for R18, in general, any CD produced by Milky Chain (Twinkle Blossom, Enemy Coupling, Switching!?, Koibito vs Nijigen) or Apricot (Kare to Soine), and any CD that features do-M boys (like the Namidame series*) could probably be considered to be favorites of mine. Then again, there are a lot that don’t fit those categories but I love them dearly anyway. If you’re curious about my opinion about something, you’d probably have to ask me specifically about a series or a CD.

(Disclaimer: The following recommendations are the SFW sort, and I’m assuming the beginner in question has a foundation in upper-basic to intermediate proficiency in understanding spoken Japanese.)

If I was making an recommendation to an absolute beginner, I’d actually start them off with apps like Situation BF, Voice Supplement and Sleepy-time Boyfriend (which is based off of Shuukan Soine), where there isn’t really a plot, and you can sort of figure out if you like the idea of a nice voice talking to you directly as the listener or not. 

If you decide that you like the concept, I’d move on to lighter series-oriented CDs like those from Otomate.  

Assuming a solid grasp of Japanese and an interest in more dramatic CDs, I think you’d be fine moving on to CDs like the infamous feelsy Shinsengumi Wasurenagusa series by Rejet, or really, anything by them if you’re into drama and feels—aside from their occasional forays into lighter-hearted stuff like √HAPPY+SUGAR=DARLIN.

Then again, as I’ve mentioned earlier, I am by no means an expert on SFW CDS ( • v • );;—unfortunately my collection is more of a ratio of 1:20 SFW to NSFW CDs, maybe even less, if I had to guess... But there are plenty of other people on Tumblr that would be wonderful resources about SFW CDs if that’s your thing.

(I’ll just be here in the gutter if you need me. ✨)

And I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t think I could even get started about R18 for beginners here, because there would be way too much I’d want to say, given that’s my area of expertise. 🙃 I’m this close to making a beginner list/starter pack though, maybe if someone put in an ask...

*Not for the faint-hearted, as I always say...

But that concludes this brief very long Q&A, thank you again to Léa @1filletterevolutionnaire for the opportunity to answer such interesting questions! ❤️

#drama cd #otome cd #dauriculaire answers an ask oh my #q and a

[obdurare-archive-blog]

how do you feel about dmtnt?

Lmao oh. Oh, gosh, anon I. /sweatsOkay, yeah, no. I’m glad it’s breathed life into this fandom that I hold nearest and dearest to my heart. I’m glad to see more people in it and talking about it and drawing fanart for it (like this one bc I am not a Sparossa fan at all but the art is lovely and it’s still cute even it’s not my thing and I now subscribe to the headcanon of Hector with full-body freckles). Like I’m glad to see new people come in, and old people return. Feels like home again. I’m glad it’s made so many people happy.ALSO LET ME PREFACE BY SAYING: These are my feelings on the film. In no way do I feel this way about any DMTNT rpers or their interpretations on my dash. You guys are all fucking fabulous with what you’ve done, and I am here to play with you all, no matter how I feel about the source material. You’ve done an amazing fucking job with what you were given and I am in awe of every last one of you. Which goes to show how I feel means not a fiddly fuck, because you guys are giving pure gold. And know that if you wanna ever do a thing, just hit me up. Because I don’t give a good goddamn, we’ll figure it out. I want to write with you. Keep rocking the fuck as hard as you do, and know each of you are here because I want you to be.HOWEVER I have a lot of issues with this film.

I haven’t been shy about my issues with characterization and canon non-compliance within the film. And I’m not about to start now. Me? I hated it. There were a couple of things that rang true to me, that sounded IC to me, but on the whole I felt like it was a tangled, disjointed mess of a movie. But also understand I’m looking at it from a I really love my boy and how does this even work in actual canon standpoint. I think I’d be a lot happier with it if it were treated - in fandom - like a soft reboot with no bearing on the original trilogy? It could work that way. But as it stands, there’s just so much that directly contradicts 14 years of standing canon, I can’t love it, and I can’t really use it.So from a Hectormun perspective:Hector is hollow in this movie. I know a lot of people have feels about him, but from a squinting at his character from every angle view that I have, he doesn’t sound like himself. The Hector Barbossa I know and love would never hide in his cabin with a private band. The Hector Barbossa I know and love is an active, working captain, who is boots on deck at eight bells and out and about amongst his crew. Because he understands that his position as captain only lasts as long as they want him to be captain. He’s vain, but he’s not really flashy. His biggest physical vanity is his hat, and even then it’s feathers in muted, natural colors. He wears old and tattered clothes because that’s not what’s important to him. He doesn’t trim his beard because fuck what Jack thinks, have you seen Jack? He’s a walking disaster.From a character perspective, I have a hard time believing a man who baby talks his pet monkey could leave a daughter of his at an orphanage. Especially an orphanage of the 18th Century. I have a hard time thinking that he would let other people take the experiences from him of braiding his daughter’s hair and reading her bedtime stories. Say what you want about Hector - he’s a hard man - but once he loves, he loves just as hard. And if you don’t think he’d love his baby girl more than anything on the planet you are wrong. It would probably be the first time he’d experience the want to put someone else before his own desires and wants. I’m sorry, I just literally cannot buy he’d do this. Maybe it’s wanting to believe he’s better than what he is, but I don’t think so. I’m eyes-open on the things he’s done for survival. Aware of how terrible he can actually be. But as attached as he gets to his pets, and how the compass pointed to her the entire time he held it, I cannot believe he wouldn’t have had her literally strapped to his fucking side the moment she was born.I have issues with Jack. I have issues how we go from “I’ve never actually been that drunk,” to slurring his words, when Jack has never been like that. Ever. In four movies, and about twenty books. I have issues with Jack demanding tribute. @pearlsparable has written a great thing here about it, you should go check it out. Pirate captains do not demand tribute, or they do not remain captain for very long. I have issues with the production value, too, but that’s another thing entirely. I have massive issues with the change in how Jack got the Wicked Wench. It’s so integral to who he is I feel like changing it cheapens his character so much. It takes away so much depth the original storyline gave him. I have a lot of PoF love, y'all, you’ll pry it from my cold, dead hands. I also have issues with the compass giving. This whole thing has been built around him bartering it from Tia Dalma, and it cheapens her and him to rewrite it because…I haven’t figured out why. I feel like this whole script could have used a cursory wiki check.I have issues with Will and his being a morose bastard about things. Will knew the duty. Will knew he was more suited than Jack to do the duty. Remember that talk on the Pearl? “You have to do the job, Jack. Or end up just like Jones.” Will was meant for the duty. “A touch of destiny.” Tia Dalma knew, too, I believe, when she she laid eyes on him. Also lots of issues with how Henry (I’m sorry, babes, they should have kept with the Williams and this one should have been Willie, Henry jars really bad for some reason) is kind of. Left to swim back to his own boat. I have problems with Henry not being given any depth when he could have been so much more. Like there was so much potential in this film and it all feels flat.I feel like Salazar was so much wasted potential. As is, he’s still great, those special effects are hell unnerving and fucking zombie sharks, I am always here for zombie sharks. But I feel like he could have been expanded on so much more. Look at Hector from CotBP. That’s how you write a sympathetic villain. And Salazar tries to reach that same level of writing craft, but it’s not a fault of Javier Bardem, who is fabulous, but a fault of a shitty script that left him filling in too many details. I’ve seen rpers here who do a much better job of giving him depth and feeling and a solid feeling than that script did. So kudos to you guys for being awesome, too. You’ve made him into what he should have been, and I’m so grateful to see so many talented people picking up the slack there.I’m disappointed in the handling of this romance of Hector’s. She’s a name. A throw away line. If she’s someone Hector Barbossa fell in love with, then she was someone worth remembering. That I promise you. She should have been more than that.I’m angry that the writers can’t seem to write an intelligent female, apparently, so everyone else feels a bit dumbed down to compensate. I’m angry, because this is Hector Barbossa’s fucking daughter and they wrote her so blandly and I saw nothing at all of him in her and I wanted to. I wanted her to be as witty as she’s supposed to be. I want her to be everything she was supposed to be. I’m fucking pissed they give Hector this backstory that 1. doesn’t really jive with original canon and 2. do nothing to actually explain it, on top of short-servicing what should have been the two most important people in his life. You don’t give my boy this and tear it from him two seconds later. You don’t. I’m so glad to see so many good Carinas out there fixing this, making her everything she’s meant to be and more. I’m so glad. I know I can count on fandom when the official source fucks up.I’m super fucking pissed a lot of this with Hector was for a tortuted metaphor. I get why it’s supposed to be super feelsy, but for Hector’s character in totality it makes no sense. I’m angry his death was actually pointless as hell. I know it’s Geoffrey Rush bowing out, he’s said he’s done now, but I’m still mad.I’m just mad, anon. I’m mad I waited this long for this movie, and this is what I got. One that doesn’t even make sense with the rest of the canon and treats all the characters like cardboard pieces that can be moved with no autonomy. One that could have been amazing with a cursory continuity check and some better writers (we also almost had Russio back and I’m salty af about that, too). This movie is an example of something that could have been a wonderful chapter ending, that ended up a goddamn disaster.  I’m mad for all of us, because I feel like we all deserved better.Now that I’ve said all that, lemme say this. You DMTNT rpers? Keep doin’ what you do. Because you guys are 10000% better than the writers of this movie. You’ve actually given these characters some life, so I’m so glad to know each and every one of you. I may not be canon compliant for your guys for all of the above, but that never means I don’t want to write with you. Like I say in my rules, hey. My Hector won’t really have a clue who you are, but he’ll roll with it. And so will I. You guys are 100% welcome here, always. In no way is this a reflection on you, or your quality. Because I wouldn’t be following you if you weren’t quality, and you can take that to the bank like money.

#anonymous #what is it that you want ( asks ) #[i mean it] #[i enjoy each and every one of you] #[and your passion for your characters] #[don't let my opinion make you feel like you are less] #[because you are MORE] #[you've done a fucking fantastic job] #[i can't express that enough]

[virginiaisforhaters]

I was tagged by @140smashedguitars​ to answer these questions. Thank you! ;D

1. Rules: Answer the questions and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.

A - Age: cantankerously old B - Birthplace: Virginia C - Current Time: 1:41

D - Drink You Last Had: Blood orange lemonade E - Easiest Person To Talk To: my gal  F - Favourite Song: sweet thing by van morrison

G - Grossest Memory: Having a tube up my nose down to my stomach when I overdosed

H - Horror Yes or Horror No: YASSSSS it’s my favorite everything I - In Love: Feelsy J - Jealous of People: eh K - Killed Someone: technically? L - Love At First Sight Or Should I Walk By Again: eh M - Middle Name: Kathleen N - Number of Siblings: a sister and two half sisters O - One Wish: A cabin in the woods with someone to love and a bunch of dogs P - Person You Called Last: mom Q - Question You Are Always Asked: Why do you look so angry R - Reason to Smile: love, drugs, queerness  T - Time You Woke Up: 10 U - Underwear Colour: grey V - Vacation Destination: I really want to go to new orleans  W - Worst Habit: i mean pick a card really  X - X-rays: i have broken so many bones its not even funny. gotta stop punching people and falling out of things  Y - Your favourite food: sushi Z - Zodiac Sign: Aries sun, gemini moon, aquarius rising

***

2. Rules: answer 20 questions and tag 20 people

Nickname: Matches

Zodiac: Aries

Height: 5′6

last thing i googled: skam season 4

Favorite music artist: It’s always a tie between brand new, my chemical romance, and nine inch nails (but brand new if i had a gun to my head) 

Song stuck in my head: high enough 

Last movie i saw: wonder woman

What am i wearing right now?: a misfits shirt and some gay ass shorts 

Why did a chose my URL?: the slogan for my home state virginia is “virginia is for lovers” but i am a hater

Do you have any other blogs?: @officialchernabog is my aesthetic blog and i have some other names reserved 

What did your last relationship teach you?: dont date men 

Religious or spiritual: witchy agnostic 

Favorite color: grey 

Average hours of sleep: so variable 

Lucky number: 13 

Favourite characters: Jyn erso, ellen ripley, jillian holtzman

How many blankets do you sleep with: I just have a galaxy comforter

Dream job: something in nature, possibly involving mushrooms or wolves 

[renaisty]

Some Flash rewatch things.

Can’t believe I forgot my fave lines.

“We’re not a two.”

“Oh no, we’re a one and one.”

The Barry and Joe relationship still owns my ass

With all its ups and downs and its less than perfect aspects. I love it, and I can do nothing about it. Generally the West family is so feelsy I cannot. They make me so happy T_T

I forgot how much I liked Barry and Linda together. So cute.

Seeing everyone lying to Iris about everything... So frustrating. Not a good call, people.

Really should’ve connected that footage from Barry’s lab to Wells spying on them.

Lots of stuff is much creepier this time around, thinking of that.

Huh. For some reason, I thought Barry and Caitlin had more screentime together...

Guess it’s the fandom. Oh well. At least now I remember how Caitlin and Cisco have more stuff going on between them than ppl tend to focus on.

The mood whiplash from the Linda as Dr Light episode... Oh my, I laughed more than ever on a Flash ep... and then. Everything was pain and misery and tears. Damn.

Caitlin’s insistence on there not being a Killer Frost on Earth 1. Ever.

Heartbreakingly hilarious, or hilariously heartbreaking? Take your pick.

Hunter Zolomon or what?

Man I feel stupid.

Ok but watching them navigate the new dynamics of the family with Wally is (while v awkward at times) soooo interesting and fun. I love it. I just... Rly rly love the West family.

Omgs Henry you have no idea what’s going on don’t. Why.

That moment when you’re like ‘there was 0 reason that someone needed to go with Cisco’ but also ‘woah it’s so awesome how Iris brought him back’.

I can’t decide. Hmm. #help

Idk if this is gonna sound weird but. I love when the team gangs up on Barry. When it’s justified of course. But yeah, love it.

I mean, personally I do think he wasn’t in the right mindset. But beyond that, maybe it’s just me, but you know. Good to let someone else make the decisions sometimes.

I kinda love Harry? Esp. by the time s3 rolls around, I want him around too. HR was fun-ish, but there’s only one Harry.

(’it’s gonna take a while even when i do meet them to get to the cuff stage’ - ok that comment was so worth having HR...)

Did I say the West dynamic with Wally could be awkward at first? Well. It has nothing on post-flashpoint dynamics omgs that second-hand embarrassment in the 2nd ep... I don’t think I’ll ever be the same.

Oh my gods everyone being so against Wally using his powers like I’m so. Mad. #LetWallybeKidFlash2k17!!

“That investment’s gonna pay off” welll. fuck.

“How do we know he isn’t spying on us right now?” Idk Barry, but I think Savitar might know everything you’re doing. You know, through the connection to you. Funny.

Oh man now that I’m looking for it, “I never asked for any of this, Joe.” as well as “Reverb told you you could be a god.” Are fucking. Dead giveaways. Especially the way he said ‘Joe’. Gods, save me.

Look. There’s only one thing I don’t understand. Why tf did he just... stand there?? Barry I-have-to-try Allen?? Just... standing there?? While Wally was ‘taken’ I guess?? Wtf was that?? *rages*

And ofc come next ep he’s 1k% willing to sacrifice himself for Wally. Yeah, saw that coming, that’s a given, but why man? Why did he just stand there? I am. Confused.

What is it with the Speed Force and creating clothes?

I mean, I get it it’d be awkward if they turned up less than clothed, but I’d love for someone to comment on it.

“I had a feeling.” Fuck. Fuck. The first time I assumed he’d Vibed it and was being cheeky about it, but oh no, now it’s so so much sadder not my bby *gross sobbing*

And in the next ep, oh my gods it’s so scary to see the ice head for his hands like, ‘oh no not this noo’. And then Barry fucking ran in front of him, and it reminded me of what he said, that’d he’d ‘fix it’. *more gross sobbing*

Ohhhhhh Joe and Cecile are such  a joy to watch.

‘You’re not so scary without your armor’ oh man so true. I could never get over that armor even on a rewatch, but I just... can’t be scared of that face.

You know you’re stupid when you don’t realize why it was ‘ironic’ that Savitar would keep it to himself until you’ve seen it three times. Why me.

Joe and Iris talking abt stuff and being happy-ish in the second-to-last ep... I love it so much, and the thought of everything actually made me cry T_T Such a sweet moment. Also, daaaaamn now they just need some dirt on Wally and the mischief family is complete heh

Wait. Savitar wanted Cisco to build him something before getting the memories that meant that Iris was alive... Does that mean he changed his mind about wanting to effectively commit suicide, or was that always his plan??? Hmmm things to think about.

I... it’d have been so easy for HR to run. It rly would’ve. But he stayed there and let Savitar kill him. I’m not his biggest fan but. Man. That took guts.

I’m not in the habit of getting taken in by pretty faced villains but. This is Barry. I’m. So ugh. Ugh. (Also, while I’m on the subject, did he use ‘every hour every minute’ like in the fucking song? I am. Cackling, I’m sorry.)

OH GODS NO THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THEIR HAPPY ENDING FUCK

#the flash #my post #excuse my rambling

[owlosaurusrex]

1, 4, 9, 10, 21, 23, and 37 for the fic writer meme! :D (I hope that's not too much ahh)

First off, thank you so much for sending me numbers! I rarely get responses to these sorts of things lol so I really appreciate it~ 

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.Oooh, I’d say a typical ‘me-fic’ is an angsty/feelsy one. I like writing feelsyscenes a lot with like emotional dialogue and stuff like that. Really grittyand slow burn for sure but I’m not too keen on SAD fics. I always have to havea happy resolution and I don’t mess around with major character death.

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturingright now? Care to share one of them?This is a particularly difficult question to answer lol I like coming up withfic ideas and come up with a LOT of them but in terms of ones that I’mnurturing RIGHT NOW and am honestly considering writing or have already startedwriting I think I have 5 or so. I have tons of ideas tucked away in my google docs for various fandoms (evensome nivanfield stuff I worked on briefly) but in terms of ones I’m seriousabout at the moment it’s mostly the 5.One of them that my friend Giselle and I have been talking about a lot recentlyand have really got invested in is a Reaper76 post-WWII AU. I have an outlinegoing for it and started writing a couple scenes already but the going is slowand mostly just for fun.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?If I’m to consider ALL of the fics I have started writing I think most of themare difficult for me to write to be honest lol. I am just too critical of myown writing so it’s always a tough process. But my Joseb fic “The Donor’sMarket” was particularly difficult probably because it became a school projectat some point and there was a lot of pressure and expectations. It’s a shamecause I had a lot of ideas and plans for that story.

10. Which fic has been the easiest towrite?It’s difficult for me to say that any of them have been “easy” to write but Ithink that “One of Many” was going pretty smoothly for a while there. I had avery clear idea of what I wanted out of the first few chapters so it was easierto work on them.

21. How many times do you usually reviseyour fic/chapter before posting?It’s difficult to say. Since I’m so critical of my own writing I tend to editas I write which leads to a very slow writing process. So I edit almost everytime I sit down to write even if it’s just a little here and there. That beingsaid, after a while I’m just sick of working on something and I just post it asis lol or else I would never post anything!

23. If you were to revise one of your olderfics from start to finish, which would it be and why?Hoooo boy, I think I would like to go back and edit a number of my TEW fics.Anything with a nsfw scene needs to be fixed up for sure because I’m bad atthose.

37. Talk about your current wips.This is closely related to question 4—I’ve got a good handful of fic ideas thatI’ve started writing here and there with the majority being in the Overwatchfandom. I am still working on my vkaz and mkaz fics (because I love them So aside from “One of Many” and “Humble Beginnings” in the mgs fandom, I havethe post-WWII Reaper76 fic I’m working on, a Mchanzo fic where Mccree getscaptured by Talon, and another Reaper76 fic related to my friend Giselle’sshort comic HERE which is super shippy and I love it but it is interestinglydifficult for me to write.

[purplesurveys]

128

How do you feel about fire drills? They’re necessary at least for us since the Philippines has been a hotspot for earthquakes recently - but I just get so lazy every time classes have to be cut off because we have to gather outside and deal with sirens and firetrucks. Do your socks usually match? Yeah, I make sure they do. The idea of them mismatching is unsettling for me. Would you date your best friend? I already am. It’s turned out pretty damn well, I think. Whats your favorite weather like? I love love love when it’s dark and the air is cold. Rain or no rain is fine - I live mostly for the cold. How do you determine if a band is good or not? What do you look for most? There’s no one thing I’m looking for, really. As long as I find the song catchy and finding myself wanting to listen to it, and even that’s unpredictable every time. Are you addicted to anything? If so, what? No. That’s a sensitive word… What’s your favorite movie genre? Horror, drama, romantic comedy. Have you ever had an inside joke based on a quote from a movie, book, etc? Sure, I may have a few of those with Gabie. What do you want to do as a future career? I’m not looking for a particular path anymore at this point. Just something useful I can do with my journalism degree would be great. If you were pregnant right now what would you do? Who would be the father? Highly impossible. But in a very hypothetical sense, I would keep the kid. Whether I would raise it or give it up for adoption is something I can’t see anymore; but abortion isn’t an option for me. As for the father, fuck knows lol. Would you rather bake or cook a meal? Bake. It’s more precise and more prone to mistakes, but I have more fun doing it and at least I don’t have to deal with being splashed on with oil. If you could have anything in the world right now, what would it be? Job security. LOL. I’m getting so old so fast. What’s going to be the first song at your wedding? I really REALLY love Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron & Wine. Twilight did a good job making it such a feelsy song. But I don’t know if that’s still suitable for a wedding ten or fifteen years down the line haha. What’s something only you think is cute/funny? I don’t think there is anything; there’s always at least one other person who agrees with me when it comes to things like that. What do you find attractive in the opposite sex? Our guy friends sometimes treats us food, which is nice. Otherwise, none. Do you ever compare yourself to members of the same sex? Like in general? It’s unavoidable. What’s the perfect snack when you want to relax? Pizza. Would you rather have a few friends over & order in a pizza or go out? I always love going out with friends. Staying in with pizza is only good if it’s happening at Chelsea’s house. They have a veranda reserved for parties, her dad is a jokester and her mom makes food for us too so it’s always fun. Not to mention she has the sweetest 1 year old German Shepherd, too. If you could change any situation in your life what would it be? Having a conservative, homophobic family. Like if they tilt their views *just a little bit*, it would greatly help. Do you listen to music while you work/study? Nope. That doesn’t work for me. Describe a person you wouldn’t be able to live with? Someone who starts their sentences with, “well not all men…” “what men like is…” anything of the sort. I’m kind of heated about that now, since I’m seated at Starbucks and have no choice but to listen to a woman give such misogynistic advice to her fellow woman friend who has husband issues. Definitely not someone I’d want to ask advice from. What’s your favorite thing to do in your spare time? I like watching videos on YouTube. They provide enough distraction for me. If you could learn the subjects you wanted to what would they be? World history, geography, biology, Spanish, Korean. What’s a weird food only you like to eat? I eat mayonnaise with my tilapia, and thought it was normal until my friends were repulsed when they saw me eating it. If you could relive one memory what would it be? This is different on any given day, but right now I’d want to go back to any good memory I had in high school. Those geneuinely mean a lot. What super power do you want most of all? Time travel, but to be invisible for all of it so I don’t mess anything up. Is there a celebrity that you’d be willing to have a one night stand with? Hahaha. I always say I’m game for Kristen Stewart, but I think I’ll be too intimidated for real. Describe the perfect concert-lineup, arena, weather, w/e? I have a vast taste in artists, so I think if they'reput together it would really suck. Like I’m pretty sure putting Kendrick Lamar and Against Me! and St. Vincent in one show will never work. Do you like family restaurants or really fancy ones? I like both. Great food is what I’m here for. Are you more of a city person or a country person? why? City, because I’ve never experienced living in the province (closest thing the PH has to what the US calls ‘country.’) I’ve been around long enough to be fully reliant on internet and electricity and kitchen appliances that moving to the province would entail a really big adjustment. Do you want to live in your current town the rest of your life? Hell no. I’ll get a job, save up enough, and move out the first chance I get. What’s a negative thing about your town? Nothing ever really happens here. It’s the city right beside Metro Manila where everything takes place, so this is just pretty much where everyone passes through. Nothing special. A positive? Everyone lives near each other so that’s convenient. Would your rather drown to death or burn to death? Drown. They say burning is the most painful way to go, so I’ll have to pass on that. How many years longer are you hoping to live? 81. What song describes your typical mood? Or your current mood? I don’t think there’s any song that says “I have to pee and the table beside me is way too noisy. Also when is Gabie coming back?” If you found out today your best friend was gay what would you do? I found that out three years ago. I simply told her 'okay,’ because it’s the sort of thing that should be normalized. Congratulating is fine, but I prefer not to do that especially with Gab. I know she wouldn’t like if I made it a big deal and told her congrats, I’m proud of you, happy for you, etc. Describe the perfect kiss or date. I’m dying to have a fine dining date. With our actual hard-earned money. Do you have a special material item you hold sentimental value to? There are lots of items I view that way. Would you ever throw a dart at a map and go where it lands if you could afford it? Yes, if I had the time and money. Where would you hope it lands? (Continued from last morning) Chicago, although I have to have a good aim to hit just Illinois lol. Do you take care of yourself or do your parents help you out financially? I don’t have a job as of yet, so they take care of everything money. If you could get a pet for free today-what kind/what name? A golden ret named Theo. If you won 100 million dollars what would you do with it first? LOL maybe settle everything my parents have to (house, cars, etc.) because I’m sure they will nag me as if I owe them anything. Once they’re off my back I’ll probably save the rest of it, since it’s stupid and impractical to just run away with it. How many people have you slept with? One. Does true love wait? Hold on there, Disney. I mean yeah I guess it does but idk this is too poetic lol. What’s a huge turn off? Being too Catholic, based from 19 years of experience in a predominantly Catholic country. Or smoking. I can’t pick. Do you dig people with lots of body mods? Tattoos, yeah. If you could pick up on any instrument what would you choose? PIANOOOOOO. Any language? Japanese would be a huge help. Also want to learn Korean and Spanish. If you had your own business, what would it be? Nope nope nope. Do you ever wish you had a family business to become a part of? Kind of, yeah. It would admittedly be more convenient because at least I have something to fall back on if something doesn’t work out. What’s the most gruesome way you could come up with to kill someone? I dunno, look up people like Ed Gein or John Wayne Gacy or that dude who used a pre-recorded tape before he murdered his victims. Ask them. Do you think anyone deserves to die that way? Just those serial killers and anyone as heinous as they were. If you had to fight for survival, what would your weapon of choice be? Meh. Maybe the invincible tanks from GTA San Andreas so I can be untouched. Omg! Zombies are attacking. Where do you go, who do you find, whatta ya do? I’ve watched The Walking Dead long enough to know that I just wanna be one of the first to go lol. What’s in it for me in the end? All I will see are guts and undead loved ones and broken down cars and expired food. What cellphone is the best in your opinion? I dunno. I’m happy with my iPhone, but Apple can be so problematic and I know it’s not the best one out there. I’m sure there are better models, but just don’t know enough about phones to pick which one. Do you flip your pillow over to lay on the cool/cold side? Sometimes. I never picked it up as a habit. Stop playing with yourself! What are you going to do now? Finish my breakfast then maybe another survey.

#survey #surveys

[insanityvirus13]

You Have No Damn Right (You Don’t Know Me)

Title: You Don’t Know Me (You Have No Right)

Genre: Song (angsty)

Author’s Note: I keep getting berated by my “friends” for stupid and petty shit. Berated for being really skinny, loud, not being able to keep my hair tame, being stupid a lot, being Pro-Life, giving Trump a shot (we can’t do anything about it anymore anyway), etc. I think they forget that I know all this already. I think they forget I’m trying not to care, but they’re making me. So I wrote a stupid song about it. It...helps me.

If you don’t want angst, feelsie crap, move past this.

Lyrics

I know I’m not the smartest

I know I’m not the prettiest

I know I’m not talented

I know I’m not special

I know I can say & do stupid things

I know I can be better than I am

I know I need to be more assertive

I know I need to speak my mind more

I know I need to care less

I know I’m too loud

I know my hair’s a mess

I know I need to eat more

I know I’m not prefect, Hell I’m very far from it

But did I look like I cared at the time?

I’m happy with who I am

I’ve accepted the fact of who I am

I’ve started to love me for me

But you keep bringing me down

You have no right to berate me

You have no right to call me ugly

You have no right to call me a retard

You have no damn right, you have NO damn right!

Your not always pretty to, you know

You can be pretty stupid yourself, you know

Your not talented in everything, you know

You know this already

So why do you have a right?

Do you believe your a special snowflake?

Do you believe your so much better than I?

Do you believe that I need your “help”?

Do you believe that you can fix me?

Well than kid, I got a lesson for you.

So you better sit down,

You better learn it real fast

I’ll be your teacher for today

And I’ll make sure that you leave...

With this lesson in mind

And you’ll never forget...!

Your no special snowflake

You don’t have any right

You don’t know what I’ve been through

You don’t know my past

You don’t know what I’m going through

You don’t know my pain

You don’t know how much your killing me inside

You don’t know, you don’t know

You don’t know that you don’t!

Have any right

You think you know me?

Well listen to me now

You don’t know a God Damn THING

You don’t know how much I hold back

(you need to speak your mind more)

Just to keep you smiling

You don’t know of the tears that I shed

(you need to care less, you know)

So you don’t have to deal with the  pain

You don’t hear the screams of agony

(You’re ugly, retarded, you’ll never find someone)

You don’t see behind this mask of mine

(I know you so well already)

You think you got issues?

I got a hundred problems

And your one of ‘em

You have no damn right to berate me

(No damn right, no damn right)

You have no damn right to try and change me

(No damn right, no damn right)

You have no damn right to try and bring me down

You have no damn right to try and drag me to Hell

You got no damn right, NO damn right, NO DAMN RIGHT!

...

So Sweetheart, let me tell you something

And I hope to God, that for your sake...

It sticks with you until the very bitter end

So please darling, learn this lesson well

You don’t a damn thing about me

Your no special snowflake yourself

You far from perfect, and the last thing that you’ll do....

Is change this beautiful person I am

*speaks* Oh...and 1 more thing.

you got

No

DAMN.

RIGHT

#original song #lyrics #angst #Feeling A Bit Self Concious #but eh i tried #whatever #you got no right #Aisha McDaniel