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vivalamusicaltheater · 5 years ago

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Types of art reposters, ranked by how much I personally hate them

Hey so I haven’t personally had art reposted bc I’m a small artist and not that good in terms of technique yet (this isn’t self deprecation, just an acknowledgment that I’m not that great at anatomy and lighting and shading and such yet), but I see art reposters all the time on Instagram and (occasionally, not actually that often) here, and I’ve seen the negative effects art reposts have on other artists and I’m big mad about them, so I decided to make this list. This is gonna be a long post so if you want to be salty with me (or genuinely don’t know why I think art reposting is bad and want to find out) just know that this is gonna be fairly long.

Disclaimer (and I know this may seem obvious so I’m sorry to everyone who already knows but I feel like I have to put this here because I’ve actually seen people confused about this): reposting is not the same as reblogging. Reblogging is a function on tumblr (the little black arrows in a square right next to the like button at the bottom of posts) where you can share an artist’s work to your blog. Reblogging is good because it provides an artist with more exposure, as you probably have people following you that don’t follow them, so the more people who reblog someone’s art the more people see it and the more attention the artist is able to get, and because reblogged art provides a direct link to the original post and the artist’s blog. This way if someone likes an artist’s work they can go directly to the artist’s blog and see if they have more work they like. Reposting (saving someone’s art to your device and uploading it to one of your accounts) is bad because it takes away that direct link to the original artist. This means that is is way harder for the original artist to gain exposure for their art and often leads them to be discouraged when they see a repost of their art that got way more attention than the original, which can make them a lot less motivated to make more art. That out of the way, time to rank reposters.

13) People who directly tag/provide a direct link to the artist and provide proof that the artist allowed them to repost their work/that they allow all their work to be reposted

I don’t actually hate you if you do this. I don’t really understand why you’d want to repost someone’s art instead of just reblogging it or putting a link on your Instagram story, or retweeting it if you’re on Twitter, but by directly linking to the artist and showing that you asked them about it or know for a fact that they’re okay with it, you’ve shown that you respect the time and effort they put into their work so thank you for being a decent human being.

12) People who directly tag/provide a direct link to the artist

Ok so you didn’t actually ask permission (or at least if you did you didn’t let anyone know that you did) so I don’t respect you as much as the people who do ask for permission to repost artwork, but at least you did provide a direct link to the artist so you’re not as bad as you could be.

11) People who provide the artist’s correct username and what platform they’re on but don’t directly link to the artist

Again, good that you provided their username and where to find them, but because you didn’t directly link to the artist, many people will just be lazy and like your post and move on, or like your post because they don’t have whatever social media the artist is on. This takes away notes that should go to the original artist, which frustrates me. I don’t flat out hate you but you’re on thin f*cking ice

10) People who provide the artist’s correct username but don’t specify what platform they’re on

Hey if you do this, especially if you post art that was originally found on another platform, it makes it significantly harder to find the original artist. People are even more likely to just like your post and go on with their days instead of checking out the original artist. This barely counts as credit and you have got to do better.

9) People who credit the wrong person

Usually when people do this it’s an accident, so I don’t hate you nearly as much as some of the other people on this list, but not taking the time to make sure the information about the artist you provided is correct is lazy and shows you don’t respect their work as much as you should. By the way, if you credited the wrong person on purpose so the original artist wouldn’t find out you were reposting, I hate you a LOT more.

8) People who ask the original artist for permission to repost their artwork but don’t actually wait for them to say yes before doing it

If you do this it’s clear that you are entitled and asked the artist for permission not because you actually cared about their answer but because you wanted to be able to say that you asked for permission. It’s clear that you don’t actually respect artists, and I hate you.

7) People who credit the right person but purposefully put a / right after the @ sign so it doesn’t actually tag the original artist

The only reason I don’t hate you for doing this is if the original artist knows you’re reposting their work but specifically said they don’t want to be tagged because they don’t want to deal with the notifications or something like that. If that’s not the reason than you’re likely just doing that so the original artist doesn’t get a notification that they were tagged in a post and thus doesn’t see that you reposted their work. That’s cowardly you’re a coward and a loser and I hate you.

6) People who don’t credit at all, but don’t claim to be the original artist and it’s obvious they’re not

If you don’t even bother to try to credit the artist then it shows you don’t care enough about their labor and just expect an endless supply of art that you can repost and get thousands of notes for even though you didn’t go through the effort of drawing it. I hate you with a passion. Credit artists you sack of sh*t.

5) People who say “credit to the artist!” or “credit to google/pinterest” or “I don’t know who made this but dm me if you do!”

Listen. The fact that you’re only my 5th most hated type of art reposter is not because I don’t hate you on an ASTRONOMICAL level, but because there are (unfortunately!) people who repost in worse ways than you do. “Credit to the artist!” is NOT actually giving credit to the artist because you’re not telling your followers who the artist is!! It’s not credit if you don’t specifically name who it came from!! I see this so much and I hate it I hate you if you do this. Similarly, “credit to Pinterest/google/some other website!” is not credit either!! A website did not draw that art, a person did and I will drop kick you off a cliff for refusing to acknowledge that!! Finally, and I think you can probably see where this is going, “I don’t know who made this but dm me if you do!” is, you guessed it, not crediting the original artist! The fact that you are so lazy as to not find the original artist but you also ask your followers to do it for you? Unbelievable!! The level of entitlement!! And these happen so much!!! I hate you I hate you I hate you.

4) People who repost work from artists who have specifically stated that they don’t allow reposts or who refuse to take down reposted work after the original artist asks them to

If you respect artists so little that you repost their work knowing they don’t want you to or refuse to take down their work after they ask you to, you are a horrible person. That art does not belong to you, you did not take the time to make it, and I HATE you so much for thinking you’re entitled to it. “Well then they shouldn’t have posted it on the internet -” shut UP that’s how they choose to share their talent! Art is art even if it’s not displayed anywhere, but artists who post their art on the internet are kind enough to share their talents with the world. Maybe the artist put their work on the internet so that they can find people interested in commissioning them, which helps provide them with funds that could be necessary to their survival. Or maybe art is something they do for fun that they could very well stop doing because of people like you who feel like they own sh*t just because it was posted on the internet (hint: posting artwork on the internet does not equal consent for everyone to use it)! I hope you have a sh*tty life. I hate you.

3) People who say “I’m not gonna credit, what are you going to do about it?”

If you do this, you’re most likely a troll, and most DEFINITELY an awful awful human being. If I met you in real life I would actually physically fight you regardless of whether I thought I could win or not because I hate you that much. Step on a rusty nail and learn basic respect for people’s time and effort. I hate you. (Also, if the original artist finds out what you’re doing they can at least file for copyright and hopefully get their work taken down. If you’re an artist whose work has been reposted by someone like this I’m deeply sorry for you and hope these reposters get all the sh*tty things they deserve in life).

2) People who pretend to be the original artist even though they’re not

They say imitation is the highest form of flattery, but definitely not in this case. If you have the AUDACITY to take credit for the work someone else put their time and effort into and accept all the praise and attention that the original artist should be getting, I hate you so unvelievably much. How is it possible to be that awful of a person? You are stupid and I hope you lose your job or something else similarly awful. (Again artists if you have ever experienced this I’m so so sorry for you).

1) People who repost art for the sole purpose of making fun of it

Congratulations, if you do this you are the worst asshole on this list of huge f*cking assholes. Not ONLY are you creating all the usual problems that come with reposting but you ALSO have the nerve to call someone’s art bad?! There is a SPECIAL place in hell for you. Likely if you do this you also make fun of marginalized people or kids, as most “bad art” blogs feature lgbt+ artwork done by lgbt+ people, or art of people of color, or children’s ocs that have like rainbow hair and vampire fangs and wings or something. I don’t CARE how bad you think their anatomy is and I don’t CARE if they have the “calarts art style” or “tumblr art style” the fact that you are taking the time to repost something somebody spent time on and criticize it is despicable and I hate you more than I hate anyone else besides bigoted people. I also don’t care if you think it’s a “joke”, if the original creator of the art ever found your repost it could be really harmful to their self esteem, and could cause them to stop making art, which means they’ll never have a chance to get “better”. Doing this is a personal attack on someone’s passion and I hate you so incredibly much for it. If you want art that you think is good so bad then f*cking make it yourself. What’s that? Oh you don’t make art you just think you could do better even though you’ve never drawn in your life/you just know what “good art” is? Sit down and shut the f*ck up. I hate you.

(Disclaimer #2: this category obviously does not extend to things like art that is racist or transphobic or anything like that. There’s a difference between calling out something that is genuinely harmful and mocking artists for drawing things that make them happy. The former is good the latter is bad.)

Anyways that is my list of art reposters ranked by how much I hate them! If you are any of these kinds of art reposter besides 13, 12 and maybe 11, then congratulations I hate you and hope you have an awful day!

#long post #artist problems #personal #this doesnt even correctly convey my level of hatred for art reposters. i hate them so f*cking much. make art yourselves you sh*tstains

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makistar2018 · 6 years ago

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Like Taylor Swift, every woman faces a Justin Bieber

By Danielle Campoamor July 3, 2019

(CNN) It's easy to argue that, in 2019, women are more powerful than they've ever been in United States history. A record 117 women won office in the 2018 midterms. A record number of women are vying for the presidency in 2020. The youngest billionaire in history is a woman (Hi, Kylie Jenner!). The number of women CEOs in Fortune 500 companies hit a record high. But even at a time when "something is happening" with women, we're constantly reminded that even the most powerful among us have to fight for what's theirs, whether it be reproductive justice, a seat at the proverbial table, or creative license.

We face a seemingly never-ending onslaught of examples that, in the midst of that fight, women are perceived as rude, angry, manipulative, or petty.And we cannot deny that, far too often, behind these powerful women are men... taking ownership of those women's work.

Over the weekend, Taylor Swift learned her six-album music catalog was sold to a company owned by music manager Scooter Braun, who Swift alleges has been bullying her for years. "Scooter has stripped me of my life's work, that I wasn't given an opportunity to buy," Swift wrote in a Tumblr post. "Essentially, my musical legacy is about to lie in the hands of someone who tried to dismantle it." She called it a "worst case scenario." Swift also accused Braun of urging well-known artists Justin Bieber and Kanye West to direct their ire at Swift, too, pointing to a 2016 picture of Bieber, Braun, and West that Bieber posted on Instagram in 2016, captioned, "Taylor Swift what up."

The reaction to Swift's choice to publicly denounce what she believes to be a calculated sale of her life's work to a man she says she no longer wanted to be associated with was immediate -- and, to anyone remotely paying attention to how women are still treated in the United States, predictable. A Guardian writer described the situation as Swift "reigniting old feuds and giving us some new ones." Bieber responded with a non-apology apology , saying "sorry" for the 2016 Instagram post but then asking what Swift aimed to gain from going public, writing in a new Instagram post, "What were you trying to accomplish with that blog post? Seems to me like it was to get sympathy." Braun's wife, Yael Cohen, also responded, writing, among other things, "Interesting that the man you're so 'grossed out' by believed in you more than you believed in yourself," insinuating in no uncertain terms that if it weren't for him Swift wouldn't be who and where she is today.

In a country whose critics notoriously turn their noses up at music geared toward teen girls and young women, like Swift's, it appears to be painfully difficult for many to resist the urge to label what's happening to Swift as frivolous drama. But this is a powerful woman losing the rights to what she created, to a man she claims attempted to control and hurt her -- an outcome we've seen play out before.

In 2018, pop star Kesha lost her appeal to break from Dr. Luke, a music producer Kesha alleged emotionally abused and sexually assaulted her. Dr. Luke and his lawyers claimed in a lawsuit that her allegations were false and defamatory. While there are obviously differences in Swift's and Kesha's situations, the way Kesha describes hers feels resonant here: "You can get a divorce from an abusive spouse. You can dissolve a partnership if the relationship becomes irreconcilable," said Kesha's proposed countersuit after she lost her appeal. "The same opportunity -- to be liberated from the physical, emotional, and financial bondage of a destructive relationship -- should be available to a recording artist."

Neither of these outcomes, or how these two powerful women in the music industry say they were treated, exist in a bubble. If life imitates art, and vice versa, then they are indicative of the fights women across the country are still facing -- an extension of the foxholes women have been sequestered in for decades and the trenches that divide us. We're still digging today.

Sure, two women -- Kamala Harris and Elizabeth Warren -- who, according to CNN, are rising in the polls, "each" won their nights of the Democratic presidential debates. But now Harris is the target of 2019's version of Donald Trump's birtherism. And political pundit Stuart Rothenberg asked his 37.3K Twitter followers if Harris was being "too aggressive" during the debates. Some have accused Warren of basically co-opting Bernie Sanders' ideas.

Sure, a woman is the youngest billionaire on the planet, but in 2017 women were paid 80.5 cents for every dollar men made -- black and brown women, and mothers, even less. Sure, we had the #MeToo movement and men like Harvey Weinstein were held accountable, but Louis C.K. recently received a standing ovation at a comedy festival in Brooklyn, and E. Jean Carroll accused the sitting President of the United States of rape (the 16th allegation of rape, assault, and/or sexual harassment against him) only to watch her story go vastly underreported. The President denied her allegations, stating she's "not his type."

As women, we're to blame. We're too aggressive. We just want attention. We don't love ourselves enough. We're manipulative. We're not his type. We're too much. We're dramatic. We're feuding.

And, like Swift, far too many of us are watching what we've worked so hard for fall into the hands of men who seek to control us, whether it be via our legacies, our reputations, our bodies, or our success.

CNN

#taylor swift #scooter braun is a piece of shit #cnn #2019.07.03

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ts1989fanatic · 6 years ago

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Like Taylor Swift, every woman faces a Justin Bieber

(CNN) — It's easy to argue that, in 2019, women are more powerful than they've ever been in United States history. A record 117 women won office in the 2018 midterms. A record number of women are vying for the presidency in 2020. The youngest billionaire in history is a woman (Hi, Kylie Jenner!). The number of women CEOs in Fortune 500 companies hit a record high. But even at a time when "something is happening" with women, we're constantly reminded that even the most powerful among us have to fight for what's theirs, whether it be reproductive justice, a seat at the proverbial table, or creative license.

We face a seemingly never-ending onslaught of examples that, in the midst of that fight, women are perceived as rude, angry, manipulative, or petty.

And we cannot deny that, far too often, behind these powerful women are men... taking ownership of those women's work.

The reaction to Swift's choice to publicly denounce what she believes to be a calculated sale of her life's work to a man she says she no longer wanted to be associated with was immediate -- and, to anyone remotely paying attention to how women are still treated in the United States, predictable. A Guardian writer described the situation as Swift "reigniting old feuds and giving us some new ones." Bieber responded with a non-apology apology, saying "sorry" for the 2016 Instagram post but then asking what Swift aimed to gain from going public, writing in a new Instagram post, "What were you trying to accomplish with that blog post? Seems to me like it was to get sympathy." Braun's wife, Yael Cohen, also responded, writing, among other things, "Interesting that the man you're so 'grossed out' by believed in you more than you believed in yourself," insinuating in no uncertain terms that if it weren't for him Swift wouldn't be who and where she is today.

As women, we're to blame. We're too aggressive. We just want attention. We don't love ourselves enough. We're manipulative. We're not his type. We're too much. We're dramatic. We're feuding.

ts1989fanatic powerful and accurate

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mayquita · 6 years ago

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Pictures of Reality (13/16)

Merry Christmas everyone!! This week has passed almost without realizing it but we’re already here, with a new chapter of PoR. As always, thank you so much for all your support and for continuing to give this story a chance.

Summary: Emma Swan returns to her birthplace, Storybrooke, in search of a fresh start after a life marked by abandonment and betrayal. After a year there, she finds the stability she needed and also the possibility of learning about one of her passions, photography. Killian Jones, a former British war reporter with a tragic past, establishes himself in the same town as an instructor of photography, following in the footsteps of his best friends, the Nolans. What will happen when their paths cross? Will their common passion for photography help them heal old wounds?

Rating: M (Language, mature themes, implied sex)

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, mentions of the loss of a limb in an armed conflict.

Other ships / Characters: Although, obviously, this is a cs fic, Snowing plays a major role here, mainly David. In fact, the story contains three different points of view, those of Emma, Killian and David. Also, Henry appears in the story as Regina’s adopted son but he is not Emma’s biological son.

Beta: I’d like to express my gratitude, as always, to my beta @jarienn972 I’m aware that you have had to deal with a monster of more than 100k words and English is not my mother tongue, so I value your effort even more.

Artist / art: Go visit @imagnifika’s blog and enjoy her amazing art. The art that accompanies this chapter includes one of Emma's post on her Instagram account. I’ve added it at the end, for reasons...

Art for the prologue/ Art for chapter 1 / Art for chapter 2 and banner / Art for chapter 3/ Art for chapters 4-5 / Art for chapters 6-7/ Art for chapter 8 / Art for chapter 10 / Art for chapter 11 / Art for chapter 12

Special mention to @saraswans , thank you so much for your perpetual support, for believing in me when I doubted myself and for offering ideas to make this story grow.

Don’t forget to go read and enjoy the rest of the amazing csbb stories and art.

Word count: ~ 7800 (116k total in 16 chapters)

Also on (From the beginning): Ao3 / Ffnet (Current Chapter) Ao3 / Ffnet

Tumblr: Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

What to expect from this chapter? This is one of my favorites. In fact, it includes two of my favorite scenes from the whole story. David is involved in the first one. As for the other one… you’ll have to read it…

CHAPTER 12

My dearest Emma,

You probably would be surprised because today is not your birthday, Christmas or any other special event, but I felt the need to bare my soul and I have not found a better way to do it than through you, my dear daughter.

I may be a fool after so many years apart, but I still hold the almost vain hope that someday these letters, these little confessions in the form of written words will come to you. That's why I will not hesitate to continue writing to you until I exhale my last breath, Emma.

And I need you today, I need to hold on to something stable when my whole world falters and despair threatens to take hold of me, while I feel helpless, unable to protect my loved ones.

I have already talked to you on more than one occasion about Killian and how I have felt guilty several times because my paternal instinct, that which should have been destined to you, was directed instead towards that child who is now a grown man. On the contrary, my desire to protect him has not changed in the least as he grew up. When misfortune seems to prey on him, hit him again and again, my protective instinct grows.

That is why now the feeling of failure is more intense. Killian lost his love yesterday in tragic circumstances and my wife, your mother, lost a great friend. And I was unable not only to prevent it from happening but also I don’t know how can I comfort them, how can I help them when the pain is also consuming me inside.

It is hard to see how the flame of Killian's eyes is slowly disappearing without you being able to do anything to fan it. What can I do, Emma? How can I help my friend? My family?

I desperately hope that wherever you are, your life is full and that you have found happiness. Otherwise, what would be the point that we had spent all these years away from you if we didn’t manage to give you your best chance? I don’t know if I could bear the thought of failing you as well even more than we did when you were born.

As I told you in the rest of the letters, I keep thinking about you every day and I keep fantasizing about the idea that you and we are destined to meet sooner or later. Who knows? Maybe it's not too late for us or for Killian. Maybe one day we get to be a complete family. Until then, my best wishes go to you,

Your father who loves you deeply and who never forgets you,

David.

David Nolan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018

"Emma, are you inside?" David knocked on the door again, with no response. Still, he didn’t want to give up now that he had come this far. "I've talked to Henry. I know you're home."

After a few more seconds of waiting, the door was still closed and there were no signs of Emma. Maybe she is taking a shower, he thought of a failed attempt to convince himself. Reluctant to leave without at least making one last attempt, he rested his ear against the smooth surface, trying to pick up any sound, however subtle, that told him Emma was indeed there.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he seemed to sense the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door. That was all he needed. "Okay, then." A sigh of resignation escaped his lips. "I would have preferred this conversation to unfold without any barrier between us, but I suppose this is better than nothing."

He placed the box on the floor next to him as he stood in front of the door, his forehead and the palm of his right hand resting on the wooden surface. He swallowed, dragging down the lump in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, pulling himself together before beginning to speak.

"I... I didn't come here to apologize, nor to excuse any of our acts. I hope... I really hope we have the opportunity to continue this conversation when you feel ready."

David paused, waiting for some reaction from Emma. Still nothing. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the shadow of doubt crossed his mind fleetingly, making him question whether it was really worth continuing or was just a waste of time. He came to the conclusion that, although he didn't get any response from Emma, at least he would be able to expel those thoughts from his system.

"I'd like to talk about Killian today. I'm aware that you're mad at him, I... we understand your reasons. Our behavior was certainly inexcusable and it seems that we make one mistake after another in relation to you."

The grip of guilt and regret had not loosened the pressure on his heart over the years, on the contrary, from time to time it took a swipe at him, causing a bleeding wound difficult to plug. For that reason, he was forcing himself to defend his friend, as a way of putting a bandage on his wounded heart, as a means of atoning for his sins.

"He had no idea of your identity when he started the course. We didn't know you were going to attend either, so I guess it was just a matter of chance that you two crossed paths."

He breathed out on a shaky exhale before continuing, while he hoped to keep his voice stable enough now that the most painful part of his explanation was coming. "We... I took advantage in a certain way when he was at a low and vulnerable moment to ask him for help. Now I see that I should never have put him in that situation. You were our responsibility, not his. He has had that pressure on him, the idea of being a burden for us, of not being enough. I suppose that although, in a selfish way, I thought I was offering him the possibility of feeling useful. How wrong I was..."

David paused again as he pressed back his ear against the door. This time he did hear something, it wasn't his imagination. It was the sound of something or someone slipping down from the smooth surface, as if a person had been leaning against the door and was letting its body slide down. He imitated the position he thought Emma was keeping on the other side of the door and sat on the floor, aiming to be even closer to her.

"Confiding our secret and asking him to help us get to know you were a burden for him, reaching the point that he felt unable to handle the situation and was willing to leave to give us more time to figure out how to tell you the truth."

Once he had started with that exercise of sincerity he could not stop. "Regina told us about your past... Emma, I know I said earlier that I wasn't going to deal with that topic today, but let me tell you just this, I'm so deeply sorry..." David blinked a couple of times, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. "If I had known that you were going through this ordeal we... I don't know, there's no point lamenting now. We... we just were terrified of ruining everything you had achieved here in Storybrooke if we told you the truth."

David was aware that his voice sounded broken but also honest. He expected Emma to at least appreciate that. "It turned out that we ended up doing just that, not only with you, but with Killian." Before continuing, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Despite the inner struggle that Killian has been carrying these months, I had never seen him as happy as when he was with you. His gaze had regained its vivacity after so many years, so I beg you not to close the door to him for good. I'm certain that you are both meant to be together and I would never forgive myself for having cut off the wings of your future. I know that I'm placing a responsibility on you that you don't deserve but, if you feel the same for him, as I suspect you do, I only ask you to give him at least one chance to explain himself."

He rested the palm of his hand on the door, caressing the surface while he imagined it was his daughter whom he caressed in an attempt to comfort her. "Thanks for listening to me, Emma." He whispered as his gaze fell on the box he had brought. "You may not believe it or even find it insulting, but since I had the opportunity to see you for the first time when you were just a newborn baby, I never stopped thinking of you. You've always been with me, Emma, both in my mind and in my heart. When you open the door you will find proof of my words."

No sound or movement came from the other side of the door. After letting out a deep sigh, David finally got up and started walking away from the door, feeling that with each step he took, he moved further away from his soul, leaving it hidden in a box in the middle of a lonely hallway.

Only when he went outside and was hit by a cold breeze did he realize that his cheeks were wet from the tears that had finally escaped his eyes.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 1, 2018

Emma remained in the same position, sitting on the floor, her back and her head resting against the front door of her apartment for what seemed like hours, as she let the tears fall freely down her cheeks.

By the time she had heard David's voice on the other side of the door, she had felt paralyzed, unable to react at first. Slowly, a wave of mixed feelings had begun to take hold of her. She wasn't prepared to listen to revelations about her origins or to relive her terrible experiences as an orphan. For that reason, she hadn't opened the door, but David's voice had attracted her like a magnet, so she had stayed there all the time, assimilating his words while her heart constricted in her chest.

His voice had given off a raw honesty that Emma had not expected. Even so, her anger had increased when her suspicions were confirmed through David’s words. Killian had been just another victim, who had made wrong decisions, but excusable because of the complex position in which he had found himself.

She could not forgive them, not yet, not when his confession and the little glimpses he had dropped were too painful to ignore.

But she had also been unable to stop her emotions, and after squeezing her eyes closed in an unsuccessful attempt to keep the tears for falling, she had finally given up. At least she had managed to swallow the sob bubbling in the back of her throat, both hands covering her mouth, forcing herself to remain silent.

She waited a few more minutes, terrified at the thought of opening the door and finding that David was still there. When she thought that more than enough time had passed for him to leave, she finally got up, but before opening the door, she looked through the peephole to make sure that the hall was empty.

There was something on the landing when she finally dared to open the door, a cardboard box, its size a little larger than a shoe box, with an inscription written in an elegant cursive on the lid of the box: Letters to Emma from her father, 1989-2018.

Quickly, she grabbed the box, feeling its touch on the tips of her fingers as if it burned, and went to her bedroom, putting it in the most hidden corner of her closet, while her heart pounded in her chest, warm tears gliding again down her cheeks.

She did not feel strong enough to deal with the content of those letters. She wasn't even sure that she would ever be able to do it.

There was something she was sure of though. She needed Killian, she missed him terribly, and after his friend's confession, her willingness to listen to his own explanations had increased. But before, she needed to sleep, that rollercoaster of emotions that she was experiencing since last Monday was taking a toll on her, leaving her so exhausted that she felt like her brain was unable to properly process everything that was happening.

Killian Jones. Storybrooke - March 3, 2018

The nerves gripped Killian's stomach as he rubbed the palm of his hand on his pants to wipe the sweat. He was there, in front of Emma's apartment trying to gain enough confidence to knock on the door. David’s experience in this same place two days ago made him hesitant, despite how he longed to see her again and only this small barrier separated them physically.

David hadn't offered him any details of his unexpected visit to Emma's apartment, only that Emma hadn't opened the door to him even though he was certain that she had been home at that moment.

Killian had also learned for the first time the existence of the letters that David had written to Emma throughout her life. His heart ached for his friend. He could not even imagine the suffering he had carried all these years, so he hoped that those letters would have an effect on Emma, if only to give them the opportunity to explain themselves.

But he would have to leave those worries for another time. Right now, he had to carry out his own mission. His jaw clenched, a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth before he finally decided to knock on the door.

To his surprise, Emma opened the door before he even had time to process it. Suddenly, he found himself face to face with her and all rational thought vanished from his mind, while his throat closed preventing him from making any sound.

"Hi." Her lips drew an awkward smile, but at least her expression was softer than the last time he had seen her. While she watched him, a thin crease appeared between her brows. "You look horrible."

"Hey." A sound that seemed like a croak escaped his lips. He cleared his throat, hoping to get his voice back as he reached out to scratch behind his ear. "I can't say the same about you, Swan. You look beautiful, as always."

He wasn't lying. Her hair was pulled back in a sloppy braid falling over her right shoulder, her face was fresh, no trace of makeup, and although he could detect a slight reddish hue around her eyes, the green of her gaze was as intense as ever. The soft pink blush that appeared on her cheeks after hearing his words only caused her natural beauty to increase.

His surprise grew when she, far from looking defensive or cautious, stepped aside while offering him a shy smile. "Come in."

The corners of his lips rose slightly in an attempt at a smile as he passed by her side and entered her apartment with somewhat hesitant steps. Emma's attitude had caught him completely off guard. Instead of her being belligerent or distant, he had met a cordial Emma who at least seemed willing to listen to him.

"Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Tea? Something stronger?" She asked as she made her way to the kitchen.

"A tea would be fine. Thank you, love." While waiting for Emma to return, Killian took off his jacket and placed it on the rack next to the door, then went to the couch where he sat on the edge of the seat, feeling the nerves gripping his stomach with even more pressure.

Emma returned a few minutes later, holding two steaming cups in her hands. She handed one of them to Killian before sitting on the other side of the couch, keeping a proper distance between them, but her torso turned slightly toward him as she held the cup of what he thought was hot chocolate with both hands.

An awkward silence fell over them while they pretended to be very busy with their respective drinks. A weird thought crossed his mind then, as he watched Emma hold the steaming cup in her hands. His gaze shifted to his prosthesis while he thought of the advantage of the absence of touch there. No matter how hot his cup was, he could always use his prosthesis to hold it, thus protecting his only hand from possible burns.

"Your friend David came here two days ago." Emma's voice broke the silence, freeing him from those weird thoughts.

"Aye, he told me." He nodded in a tentative motion, not quite sure that he liked the way their conversation had just started.

"Did he also tell you that he talked to me through the door? It was more like a monologue, as I guess you have already figured out." Emma's face remained impassive, though Killian detected a subtle hint of bitterness in her words. He suspected that the mention of David was intentional. Maybe it was her way of telling him that she knew some details in advance before he had to explain himself? And why wouldn't David have told him anything about that conversation — or rather monologue?

"No, I didn't know." He admitted. "He just told me that he gave you the letters he's been writing to you since you were born..."

"I don't want to talk about that right now." Emma cut him off abruptly. Killian was aware he had taken the wrong step when a stormy shadow crossed her gaze, darkening her features.

Again the silence fell over them, while they finished their drinks and left the empty cups on the coffee table. Emma pressed her lips together in a thin line as she rubbed her forehead with one hand. Then, she raised her gaze, looking for his. "What did you come for, Killian?" She asked through a whisper.

The moment of truth has come, Killian thought as he took a deep breath in an attempt to gain enough self-confidence to bare his soul once more in front of her.

"I didn't have the opportunity to explain myself the other day, you know... I've come to ask you to allow me to offer my explanation of everything that has happened. I only ask you to listen to me, Swan." Killian's eyes bored into hers, while he held his breath, waiting for her reaction.

Emma held his gaze for a few seconds, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks as she assessed his request. Killian detected an almost imperceptible nod of her head, as if she were trying to convince herself. After taking a deep breath, she finally agreed. "Okay, I'm listening."

That was the only sign Killian needed to finally open his heart and let go of all the worries that had plagued him in the last few months.

He told her about the first time he was aware that his friends had kept a secret from him from the beginning. The memory of that hungover morning after the anniversary of his brother's death and his confrontation with David still felt like a fresh wound.

Emma had been his confidant at that time, so nothing he was telling her was new to her. Still, she listened intently, her gaze never leaving his. She was also aware of the state in which he had found himself before knowing the truth, with that oppressive need to compensate his friends for everything they had done for him over the years, to feel useful in some way and not a total failure.

Before continuing, he swallowed hard in an attempt to drag down the lump that was forming in his throat. Then, he revealed to her how his friends had finally trusted him enough to share their secret with him. He saved for himself all the details of the unfortunate experiences of David and Mary Margaret as it was evident that Emma wasn't yet ready to face those revelations. Even so, he could detect a shadow of hurt crossing her gaze.

If he hadn't known the existence of that secret, it would have been unimaginable for him to think that his friends had gone through such a traumatic experience. They had always been his rock, his support. They had always offered him hope when he only saw a dark void in front of him.

"They only revealed your identity once they finished telling me their secret, when they explained to me the reasons why they needed my help."

Killian noticed how Emma shifted uncomfortably in her seat, while she averted her eyes. He would have given anything to find a way to spare her suffering, but sadly there was not, so he had no choice but to continue.

"It was a shock to me, Emma, since I had already begun to develop feelings for you and, what's worse, you even had dropped some glimpses of your past. It was hard to learn some of those details from them instead of from yourself. It was as if, with that revelation, they had taken part of our history together." Emma's features hardened, as her gaze met his again. She remained silent, though.

"Maybe you don't believe it, but I think I've never felt so pressured in my whole life with the feeling that, whatever I did, I was already condemned. From the moment I knew the truth, regardless of whether they had asked me for help or not, I was destined to fail, either to them or to you, as it ended up happening." The last words were accompanied by a bitterness that he could almost feel on the tip of his tongue. Although he had tried to stay calm throughout his confession, he was about to break, so he felt the need to pause to try to gather his thoughts and pull himself together.

Emma took that pause as an opportunity to intervene. "Do you realize that they took advantage of you? That they used the moment of vulnerability you were going through to ask you a favor that you weren't going to be able to refuse?" The way she addressed him, with a mixture of resentment towards his friends but also with a determination to protect him, did something with his insides, his mixed feelings colliding once more.

He let out a deep exhale. She was right, but it wasn't that simple. "Aye, but they were in a desperate situation."

Emma huffed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. "Why? Why didn't they just tell me?"

She didn't wait for an answer. Now that she had finally decided to express herself, she continued speaking in a voice that, although controlled, showed glimpses of the endless feelings that she had been accumulating in recent days. "He, David, told me that they were afraid of my reaction given my past, that they didn't want to ruin what I had achieved here in Storybrooke, but what they got by acting that way is much worse."

"Emma..." He longed to reach her, to ease her pain somehow. He acted instinctively, reaching out and placing his hand over hers, the touch with her warm skin burning through his veins towards his heart. She didn't reject his touch, just stared at their joined hands until, with a move of her hand, she entwined her fingers with his.

Her gaze sought his again, the corners of her lips twitching into a tiny smile. That was all he needed to continue. "We made a terrible mistake, I'm aware, but I was the one who made the decision to help them, after all. They didn't force me." His voice trailed off for a moment, but he needed to bare his soul even more. "I can't even express in words how deeply sorry I am for all the suffering we've put you through." He was aware that he was wearing his heart on his sleeve, exposing himself to her with raw honesty.

"The day you introduced them to me... that was part of the plan, wasn't it?" She asked with a tiny voice.

He simply nodded, his lips pressed together as a new wave of shame swirled in his gut.

"The day of the snow was also a setup, and the party after..." She did not ask but confirmed to herself what she already suspected in advance. Although Emma squeezed her eyes shut stubbornly for a few seconds, she could not help a single tear sliding down her cheek.

He had never wanted anything so much in his entire life as he wished he had two hands at that precise moment, because he wasn't willing to let go of her hand, but the need to wipe away her tears was so compelling that he acted instinctively again, reaching out with his prosthesis and brushing the skin of her cheek with a light-feather touch. The way she leaned her head accepting his touch, caused his heart to swell with admiration towards her.

"Those were my only interventions. You got along with them right away. Everything else went smoothly." He admitted, while squeezing her hand lightly.

"And what about your sudden changes of attitude, like the day I confessed about Neal and Walsh?" There was no recrimination in her voice, he could only detect a hint of genuine curiosity, as if she needed to know and assimilate everything that had happened in the last few months.

He let out a humorless laugh. "It turns out that I'm a terrible actor and I couldn't pretend. Every time I looked you in the eyes and remembered the secret that I kept inside me, it was as if a force pulled me, almost leading me to confess." The memory of that day came to his mind in flashes. "And regarding that day, I felt terribly ashamed, a fraud. I was acting with you in the same way that those two guys did." He looked away, feeling a wave of revulsion creep up his throat.

"Killian..." This time it was she who squeezed his hand. "Killian, look at me." She urged in a soft but firm voice. Although hesitant, he agreed, trying to seek refuge in the intensity of her green eyes. "Don't you ever dare to compare yourself to those two assholes. You were always at my side, trying to protect me in some way, worried about my feelings. So no, it's not the same." Emma said with such determination that he had to invoke all his self-control to avoid pulling her towards him and kissing her senseless right there.

His mind then traveled to the crucial moment, the day when everything had ended up exploding. He felt the need to explain the reasons for his failed attempt to travel to London. "I wasn't leaving you, Swan." He assured. "But it was clear that I wasn't able to handle the situation and on my birthday when I saw you there, in my apartment, sharing a moment as a happy family... I simply couldn't resist it."

"Regina told me that you canceled the flights when I left for work."

"Aye. It was a stupid decision that was only going to cause more damage than had already been inflicted." He averted his eyes, unable to hold her gaze.

"Well, that stupid decision got us here, and although this week has been downright awful, look at me and you, finally having a sincere conversation."

"If you put it that way..." He admitted, casting a sidelong glance at her and catching a soft smile on her face.

They fell silent for the next few seconds, Killian gently stroking her hand while he kept lost in thought, wondering where this conversation left them from now on. Emma's firm voice brought him back to reality. "There can be no more lies or secrets between us if we want this to work, Killian. I mean it."

Killian's eyes snapped back to her face. "You do?" He mumbled, still in awe at the possibility that Emma could forgive him just like that.

"You don't?" She challenged, a special glint in her eyes.

"Aye, with all my heart, Emma." He assured as he finally released her hand and reached out to stroke her cheek, his heart hammering in his chest.

Both held their eyes for a few seconds, her bottom lip catching between her teeth, while she kept a thoughtful expression. "I..." She licked her lips as she lowered her head before continuing. "I also wanted to apologize for everything I told you the other day. I'm aware that my words might have hurt you."

"Emma... no." His hand traveled to her chin, his thumb brushing gently at her dimple as he pushed lightly to force her to lift her head. "You have nothing to apologize for. I deserved each and every one of the words that you addressed to me."

They rested their foreheads together while Killian closed his eyes and let himself be enveloped by the sensations, her warm breath caressing his face while her intoxicating scent penetrated his nostrils causing his head to spin. "Gods, Emma. I want to kiss you so desperately." He breathed out, unable to avoid a hint of urgency in his voice.

"There's nothing stopping you, Killian." She whispered, her lips only a few inches away from his.

Killian shortened the distance between them until their lips finally met and everything around them vanished. At the moment when the longed-for kiss began he was absolutely certain that, just as he had set himself as a New Year's resolution, he was never going to stop kissing this woman.

But now, without any secret lurking, without any lie between them that clouded his thoughts, the sensations were even more intense. Her lips seemed softer, her scent sweeter, her taste even more exquisite.

After that first soft and tentative kiss, he ran his tongue along her bottom lip to seek entrance. Her lips parted slightly offering him the invitation he needed. When their tongues began to dance together, he felt electric shocks of pleasure up his spine and down to his toes.

Feeling Emma's lips against his again was as if he had found an oasis in the middle of the desert. He devoured her mouth while she moaned against his own, angling her head to allow him deeper as he pushed himself against her.

They continued kissing, alternating languid kisses with others full of passion, for what seemed like hours. At some point, Emma ended up straddling his lap, her mouth sliding down his neck, her tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake as it traveled back up looking for his mouth.

He was so intoxicated by the sensations, lost in a sea of lust and bliss that he didn't even realize at the beginning that the sensual movements she had initiated had a clear purpose. Slowly, his mind cleared enough to break the kiss, and look for her gaze as he tried to catch his breath.

"Emma, love, what are we doing?" Killian asked, his voice raspy.

"What do you think we're doing, Killian?" She arched an eyebrow suggestively.

"But..." He was unable to prevent a groan from sliding between his lips, when the deliberate movements of her hips became more intense causing a delicious and at the same time tortuous friction against his arousal.

"Emma..." He tried again, his voice sounding still hoarse. "We... we just... we never... we just made peace." He trailed off in a breathy moan.

"Have you never heard of make up sex?" She asked before catching the lobe of his ear between her teeth, earning another groan on his part.

"But it would be our first time..." He alleged weakly. Something was definitely not working well in his brain.

"So..." She shrugged. "It will be a first time-make up sort of sex, then." Her brow furrowed slightly, as she searched his gaze. "You want this, don't you, Killian?"

He saw it clear then, the faint hint of vulnerability in her voice, her expression of ill-concealed frustration. He remembered all the times he had rejected her in a certain way during the last months. The mere thought of having his way with her when there was that secret beating between them was too repulsive. But now, there was nothing to prevent further progress in their relationship and yet he was still impeding her advances.

"Of course I do. I want it so badly that it hurts, literally." He directed a look full of intention to his crotch.

"So..."

Killian took a deep breath, locking her eyes with his, his hand tracing delicate patterns on the patch of skin exposed under the hem of her shirt.

"I wouldn't like this to be just a way to release the tension accumulated during this week. I don't want you to regret the next morning, darling."

"I won't." She stated categorically.

"You can't know that, love." He almost implored, desperate to do things right this time.

"Do you trust me, Killian?" He simply nodded. "I want to have sex with you and I promise I'll be here the next morning."

"Well, since we're in your own apartment..." Killian arched a brow playfully. The tension that he had felt, slowly fading away.

For all answer, she captured his lips again with hers as her hands began their exploratory path under his shirt. They continued kissing and caressing for a while until the pressure he felt was almost unbearable. He pushed himself up while holding Emma, who wrapped her legs around his waist.

"What are you doing?" She murmured against his lips.

"I don't want our first time-make up sort of sex to take place on a bloody couch." He growled as he started walking towards her bedroom. The giggle that escaped her lips sounded like music to his ears.

She did not make his way easy, causing him to almost stumble, too distracted by the sensations, her demanding mouth never leaving his, one hand gently pulling at his hair, while with the other one she clung to him for dear life.

Once in her bedroom, he forced himself not to be blinded by the passion of the moment and took things more calmly.

He had come to her apartment with the sole purpose of apologizing and being honest with Emma. Not even in his wildest dreams could he have imagined that the night would have ended just like that, with her vibrating in his arms in anticipation of what was about to happen. Despite the unexpectedness of the situation, that did not mean they could not make that first night together something special and unforgettable.

Killian lowered Emma until her feet touched the floor, both facing each other, their bodies only separated by a few inches. He allowed himself a few moments to observe her carefully, reveling in the effect their activities were having on her.

Her swollen and slightly parted lips were a perpetual invitation to be kissed. Some strands of her hair had escaped from her braid, framing her perfect face. Her cheeks were colored a soft pink halo, betraying her level of arousal. There was a fire in her gaze that made his blood run hot.

They began to undress each other in slow motion, without urgency, his gaze never leaving hers. A gasp escaped his lips when his eyes finally settled on her delectable, creamy skin, his fingers tingling, longing to brush against her perfect curves.

There was only a moment of hesitation when she laid her hand on his prosthesis, asking him, without needing to speak if he wanted to take it off. He shook his head slightly as his lips drawing a weak smile. He was not ready yet.

"I... I haven't remained celibate after losing my hand, but with all those one-night stands I never felt the desire to take off my prosthesis." He tried to explain himself.

"But I'm not one of your one-night stands..."

You're everything. The words died on the tip of his tongue before leaving his lips. Instead, he offered a soft smile. "Aye, I'm well aware of that, or at least I hope so. Let's say this is a promise of a future. The next time I won't need the prosthesis to be with you."

"Good." She nodded almost imperceptibly and continued with her task of undressing him.

"You're so beautiful, Emma." He rasped, while reaching out his hand to caress her exposed skin.

She closed her eyes at his touch, while she bit her lower lip in a failed attempt to suppress a moan. "You're not so bad yourself." She breathed out, opening her eyes again.

He couldn't resist it anymore. Cradling the back of her head with his hand, he settled the prosthesis at the small of her back, his lips finding hers again. He pushed her gently to the bed, getting her to lie on the sheets, his mouth never leaving hers as he covered her body with his.

"You can't imagine how much I've wanted to do this for the past few weeks. It's been torture, love. But I just couldn't, not like that." He mumbled before forcing himself to put his mouth to better use, traveling from her neck to her collarbone and back to her mouth, his tongue leaving a wet trail in its wake.

"I guess you had your punishment, cold showers, manual jobs and all that." Killian raised his head, his eyes searching for hers, finding a playful glint in her gaze as she bit her lower lip in that way that drove him crazy. He was amazed at the lightness with which she was taking everything that had happened to the point of even joking about the situation.

His skin hummed, feeling her body vibrating beneath his. He needed more, but before continuing, he needed to be sure that they were in this together.

"Tell me what you need, Emma."

"You. Only you."

"You have me." He assured, willing to demonstrate with his actions the devotion he felt for her, worshiping her body the way she deserved.

His mouth and hand began to explore her body in search of those places that would make her melt. The delicious sounds that escaped from her mouth and the way her body reacted to his touch caused his heart to flutter with satisfaction. He acted like a thirsty man who had just found a stream of crystal clear water. His thirst was only satiated at the moment in which she came undone by his ministrations.

He watched her features intently, her eyes still closed, her breathing shaken, a sated smile gracing her lips and causing his chest to swell with pride, as he wondered what he had done to deserve such a blessing in his life.

Waiting for her to come down from her high, he lay beside her, his fingers drawing delicate patterns on her bare stomach. He noticed she was catching her breath slowly until finally, she opened her eyes, a wicked grin adorning her lips. "I think it's my turn now." She muttered as her hand traveled south, until her fingers closed around him, causing a sharp intake of breath coming through his teeth.

She took the reins then, so he had no choice but to surrender to her, and follow her path.

After so many years of one-night stands, he wasn't used to that level of intimacy that could be overwhelming in some way. But he was completely consumed by her and by the power she had to make him shake only with the most subtle brush of her lips on his skin as the fire in her eyes made his blood run hot, his mind clouded by pure bliss and lust.

They ended up emulating the previous position on the couch, she straddling his lap while he rested his back on the headboard of the bed, their bodies almost fused with each other. If he was surprised by her choice of position, he didn't have time to express it out loud. The moment their bodies joined and began the first of — he hoped —many dances together, all rational thought left him. She had managed to bewitch him in such a way that he was now under her mercy. She was going to be the death of him - but what a sweet way to die it would be.

Emma Swan. Storybrooke - March 4, 2018

The first thing Emma noticed when she opened her eyes was the familiar feeling of an empty space beside her. Her brain still dragged the vestiges of the sleep, making her doubt if what had happened the night before had been nothing more than a sweet dream from which she had just awakened.

No, she still felt sore in the right places, noticing a slight burn on her skin while the sated sensation lingered in her system. Still, she couldn't help a wave of disappointment washed over her. She had imagined a warm body wrapping her when she woke up. Instead, she found the other side of the bed empty and cold under her touch.

"Good morning, love." Her body shuddered at the sound of Killian's voice coming from the other side of the bedroom. She remembered then that at some point in the night she had removed her contacts and now, when she rolled on her side, following the direction of the sound, she only found a blurred figure sitting in her armchair.

“See? I'm still here." She jocked, her voice slightly husky, as a reminder of her veiled promise from the night before. "Are you stalking me?" She added as she reached out a hand and fumbled blindly for her glasses on the bedside table.

He chuckled. It was a beautiful sound, something rare in the last weeks but that she hoped to hear very often from now on. "On the contrary, Swan. I was simply watching your sleep."

Much better, she thought as she put on her glasses, getting the vision she needed to see Killian in all his glory. She swallowed hard, the image of him sitting there wearing only his underpants and holding her camera causing a tug of desire settling into her gut.

"With my camera? That's sort of creepy." She teased, using a weird way to show her curiosity. In her defense, her brain wasn't functioning properly yet.

He rolled his eyes, smirking at her. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she observed his relaxed features, not a trace of tension in his body. He just seemed happy.

"I woke up early. I had never seen the sunrise from this corner of the town so, since I didn't bring my camera with me, I borrowed yours and took a few pictures from your window."

As he spoke, he got up, approaching the bed, still holding the camera in his hand. "And now I was just waiting for you to wake up and ask you to pose for me. The light is wonderful, here, Swan."

"Really? You want me to act as a model? Are you aware that I just woke up, I wear glasses and my hair is a mess?"

"Nonsense." Killian cut her off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "That light has a fabulous effect on your skin and your eyes, and you always look beautiful, love."

She wasn't going to deny it, she had a weakness for the way he always praised her and for his passion for photography, causing her admiration for him to grow at times. After letting out an exaggerated sigh, she agreed, posing for him for the next few minutes, feeling like a model under the scrutiny of the camera.

"Are you happy now? Come back to bed, it's still early." She sued once the photo session ended.

“As you wish.” To her delight, he complied quickly, leaving the camera on the nightstand and crawling into bed, wrapping his arms around her.

The sensation of his body against hers brought to her memory their previous activities, causing a new wave of desire to take over her. She caught his mouth with hers and allowed herself to immerse in the incredible sensation of being kissed by such a skilled mouth. She could spend hours just like that, sharing languid kisses as Killian's arms cradled her.

"Any plan for today?" She managed to ask, her lips barely leaving his.

"In fact, I do." He admitted as he parted from her slightly, while scratching behind his ear, his cheeks flushed. "It's Sunday, remember?" The way he addressed her, in a soft voice and a tentative attitude, made her stomach tighten into knots. "I have lunch with... David and Mary Margaret."

"Oh." Suddenly, everything she had experienced throughout the week came to her memory, hitting her hard. She had managed to forget all those worries for a few hours of pure joy, but reality fell on her again.

"I can cancel it. They'll understand." Killian offered, clearly worried about her reaction.

"No." As much as everything about the Nolans still hurt, if she was willing to let her relationship with Killian prosper, and she really was, she must learn to accept the important role they played in her boyfriend's life. "I haven't yet forgiven them and I may never get to do it, but they're your friends, your family, Killian. I'll do my best to not interfere with your relationship with them."

Killian nodded and stared at her for a few seconds, that special glint in his eyes causing the butterflies in her stomach to flutter furiously. "We still have many hours ahead of us, Swan. What do you think if we make them worth it?" He offered, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Before she could answer, though, he added, "Just for the record. They may be my family, but you are, at least I hope you are, my future, Emma."

The emotion she felt at that moment was so intense that her throat closed, preventing her from forming any sound. Instead, she demonstrated how she felt with actions, pulling him towards her and capturing his lips, hoping to convey with that kiss how grateful she felt for that promise he just had offered, to which she was going to cling with all her strength.

TheLadySwan I know, I know. This is not a food photo account. But sometimes a plate of pancakes is much more than a simple food. Sometimes it means the beginning of a promising day, or a moment shared with that special person. Or sometimes it's just pancakes, a sweet and fluffy breakfast that will put a smile on your face :)

KJones This is a message from that special person (I hope), I'm looking forward to sharing more pancakes with you, in every way ;)

Thanks for reading. As you may have noticed, I'm not a smut writer, but I tried, sort of... Also, I just couldn't leave them separated for much longer. Let me know what did you all think :)

What to expect from the next chapter? If I'm not mistaken, I think the next chapter is the shortest in the whole story. We'll see how the relationship between Emma and Killian develops now that there is no longer any secret between them. Besides, will Emma be able to forgive The Nolans eventually?

#cs ff #cs au #csbb #captain swan #captain swan ff #pictures of reality #mayquita writes #my cs writings #csbb 2018 #cs au ff

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impastas-png · 6 years ago

Text

What types of blogs would they have?

BEN Drowned

Ben has zero interest in blogging or putting any actual effort into his tumblr - so his blog is pretty much default with a randomly generated username, the type that gets confused for a pornbot more often than not. He saves posts by liking them, never reblogs and follows exactly 0 people.

Not many expect this since he's the most tech savvy individual in the whole house, but social media is just another tool of stalking and spying his targets. He has no use for it, personally.

When Ben browses tumblr, it's to scroll into hell itself, looking for anything that might entertain him. If coerced into making a decent blog, it would be an aesthetic one - he'd reblog what you'd expect : retro and videogame aesthetics, neon signs, cryptic messages and, of course, dumb memes. He wouldn't get many followers due to his inactivity but he would often stalk the rest of Pastas, sometimes even pranking them by acting as an actual pornblog.

Jeff the Killer

Hands down, Jeff is definitely a tumblr addict. It's way more interesting and more anonymous than both Facebook & Twitter. He has a lot of side blogs for different things, all of them quite organized which contrasts his usually messy lifestyle. There's a personal one for complaining, venting and reblogging whatever he finds funny, another exclusively for aesthetics (lots of red/black or monochromatic palettes, weapons, blood and bruises, typically edgy things), a porn sideblog, a selfie blog and a blog to research on crimes and killing methods under the pretense of being a writer/journalist.

Because he's mostly outside and has to use the godforsaken app, Jeff is that type of person who'd keep reblogging the wrong things in the wrong blog, which is the reason of all of his constant angry posts ( “fUFCK, DID IT AGAIN” ). He'd have a decent amount of followers, but gets 0 asks cause his whole blog aura intimidates people. His porn/kink blog though, is full of thirsty anons. Blocked by Jane.

Eyeless Jack

He's the type of person who had an idea of what tumblr was, but never got around to making a blog until much later. EJ's blog would be extremely basic and he'd only use it as a journal, to talk about his day, methods of killing, medicine etc. Of course, people wouldn't take it seriously because well, it's Tumblr and everyone would most likely confuse him for either a hardcore RPer, an actual doctor or a writer. He does partake in the scientific side of tumblr and sometimes gets curious anons, but he's not interested in answering them at all.

Only uses Tumblr for like 20 minutes a day, but unlike Ben, he’s constant. EJ tries to avoid the memey side of Tumblr, though. All the bass boosted songs, eye-straining shitposts and other fandom related memes just hurt his head. Mutuals with Jeff and Jane, has a pretty decent tagging system.

Jane the killer

Similar to Jeff, she also has multiple blogs but not as many as him. Her main is by far the most popular, since she's in touch with her followers, she's active in the LGTB+ community and gives extremely good fashion and make up advice. Has to constantly close her ask box because of all the anons she gets (mostly good anons, sometimes horrible ones). Jane ignores anon hate and she's the only one who tags common triggers. She might be nice, but Jane can also be extremely savage if needed. Her witty remarks are part of why she's so popular. That or her posts about her girlfriend.

Her secondary blog is a venting one and is kept separate from her main, so it's not known. There she complains about her day and sometimes reminisces about her life. Her posts are either three, two phrases or extensive essays of just rambling, all under a cut, there is no inbetween. She vagues about her fellow Pastas a lot. Has all of Jeff's blogs blocked.

Clockwork

Natalie would blog like any other teenager, reblogging 50 things in the span of 5 minutes before disappearing for hours and maybe days. She'd choose Instagram over Tumblr anyday, but keeps her blog just in case and posts some of her own art (mostly doodles) every once in a blue moon.

You know those people who start to question their heterosexuality once they learn more about orientations on the internet ? That's Clockwork, currently questioning being bisexual - she would never admit it, but she has reached out to Jane's blog anonymously for some advice in this matter.

Clockwork is the type to send anon hate, but freak out and lash out if she ever got any hate herself. This is why anon is off in her ask. If you got something to say to her, do it on public you coward. Mutuals with Jane, Toby and Sally, she often tags them in things that remind her of them.

Sally

Sally got a tumblr blog because Ben had one, but it was Jane who taught her the basics of using the site while Jeff, the self-proclaimed aesthetic king, helped her choose a theme. Needless to say, Sally's interest in having her own blog lasted for a day or so. As the youngest, she really has no interest or reason to lurk on social media in general.

The rest, however, show her all the cute animal videos they find.

If she were to take time on fixing her blog, it would be without doubt the cutest safe space and she'd try to imitate Jane. Sally would be extremely happy, finding out about Gudetama, Kumamon, Aggretsuko and etc through Tumblr. The rest would ask her many questions on anon just to see what she'd answer (“Who is your favorite Creepypasta?”, “What do you think of X?”, “What's the powerhouse of the cell?” etc)

Slenderman

Tumblr whomst ? ? ?

#Ben Drowned #Jeff the Killer #Jane Richardson #Clockwork #Eyeless Jack #Sally #Slenderman

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sunnysynthsunshine · 6 years ago

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6th Comedy Monologue

“So folks, that whole Brexit rubbish is finally over isn’t it?”

“I know, some of us could see it coming and Teresa May looks like the spitting image

of the stepmother from Cinderella

how come nobody has noticed that yet?

we all have politicians we don’t like don’t we?

at times like this, I have to remind myself Teresa May is a very well liked woman

but then I remember back in the day Margaret Thatcher was also a very well liked woman

don’t you think she and Teresa may are quite similar?

well this is how she’d treat a political problem

*attempts impersonation*

“what’s that? ok men I did you to do this and then this and then this and this”

whereas Teresa may would handle the situation like…

*attempts impersonation*

what’s this? oh leave it for a few months

but the main thing is they both hate poor people so who cares what they think

I actually sort of understand why people like Jeremy Corbyn but I had written that previous gag back in late June of last year, speaking of outdated gags

Pirates were the communists and socialists of the 17th century

they wanted money, disagreed with colonialism and didn’t care what the government thought of them

like with communists they were accepting and inclusive but they wanted gold

the pirates accepted many on their ship they allowed homosexuality, they allowed women in strong roles there were great times had on the high seas

even with the loot, they got they’d share it evenly what other power was involved with being inclusive with most things except money Oh Yeah! the communists

Yes, Yes we’ll handle it we’ll accept you but give us all your money

communism is a good concept but in the end, people get greedy for the money

like with pirates

we’ll accept you matey but give us some gold

however they didn’t agree about the government, they had their own independent pirate crews and disagreed with colonialism and capitalism

kind of like some of us, I think

we criticize politics, we like to party and we accept most people except colonialists …and capitalists...

Oh well, at least there’s been good music with Marina and the diamonds, Ariana Grande and the 1975

We, humans, love music

which makes me think about bands related to Homosapians

in the 60s we had the Monkees good band good name

and now we have Arctic Monkeys, Gorillaz, Rang a Tang and Apes

what about the lesser known homosapian types

Chimpanzees and Baboons

if music existed in Planet of the Apes

the Kate Bush hit Babooshka would be about a

monkey looking for love after getting his heart broken seeing his wife cheat on him with an older mandrill

only to fall in love again with who he’d call his baboonska

Animals are interesting creatures whether they are made of glass, made of 1960s haircuts or made of the first songs of a math rock band

Another good thing about music and animals is that Roger Taylor is going to help us save the bees

Thinking bee! Thinking queen! thinking bee! Thinking queen!

Speaking of which there’s been a whole glam rock/synthpop revival going on

And I love that

although as a kid I watched media from all sorts of different decades

While they watched Jersey Shore and Love Island I was watching Disney and CBBC sitcoms mixed with Japanese cartoons and shows from years before like Jem and the holograms, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the original my little pony series.

I would also watch funnybones, the original noody series from a VHS I “borrowed” from my neighbours, as well as the Muppet show and some classic cinema.

I think it’s amazing that this revival is happening it’s like the 60s,70s,80s,90s and early 2000s are all going on at the same time.

Revolutionary anarchic protests, Androgynous rockers, Neon colours, post-punk indie shows, peculiar fashion trends and reality shows as well as the cybernetic future beyond

But I’m also cold and angry about how this is happening because on the other hand, there are things carried over from previous decades that shouldn’t still be around...fascists in positions of power, nonces in the entertainment industry, Threat of a nuclear war, low economy, Jamie Oliver, Piers Morgan, Death, Pollution,Misogyny,Misandry,Sexism,Racism and White Supremacy

I could list more, but I can’t think at the moment I’m focusing on my work while morons on Twitter and Tumblr are yabbering on about vegan sausage rolls.

I’ve never tried Greggs before but I’m sure the vegans and vegetarians are happy that a mainstream chain like Greggs has made a product catered specifically for them, whereas before if you asked for a “vegan option” at a restaurant the waiter would scratch their neck.

However not all restaurants are like this,having to work overtime dealing with angry parents,screaming children and the odd nazi at Mcdonalds is not an easy task,yet so many waiters and workers across the world are able to somehow keep those businesses afloat,you guys, girls and comrades don’t get enough credit,you should be paid more,no wonder so many mainstream restaurants are having strikes or running out of food and people are either going to more independently funded places or ordering online to get their daily dose of fast fried convenience.

and while I would be interested in trying a vegetarian diet,It would be hard for me to give up eating chicken that quickly but I don’t really eat meat that often,and before you say anything as long as cannibals don’t use their choice of food in a dangerous way they’re ok with me, it’s no different to when our prehistoric ancestors had to hunt to find food in order to survive,some people still have to do that,it’s sad...it really is,while Christianity isn’t something I believe in anymore, it did say in the bible that Jesus shared his bread and food with his people,and I think some of us should start doing that,and if you already do whether it’s a snack you have or leaving out leftover food from your side takeaway business, that’s brilliant your making more people happy and your allowing more people to enjoy food and to have access to that basic human necessity that we all should be able to have to access to.

Sharing is another primary school lesson it feels like half of humanity has forgotten about outside of basic decency and kindness, but I’m probably not the one to talk about that since I was called “Rude” for most of my life.

there’s a big difference between telling someone they’re a plonker and making someone more aware of how they can improve themselves as a person.

Most of us all have flaws, most of us have had toxic moments,

we’ve all at times had moments where we’ve said something wrong that we didn’t mean,

or times where our cowardliness has accidentally caused misunderstandings and drama

or times where we didn’t intend to sound hurtful but that’s how it came across, or times where we’ve blindly followed toxic people, imitating their actions without meaning to or just generally times where we’ve been ignorant little eijjits.

Even people some would say were flawless had flaws or problematic aspects about them

David Bowie wasn’t too nice to his wife Angie in later years, Graham Lineman and Robert Webb are transphobic, Rowan Atkinson supports Boris Johnson’s “so-called” jokes and Ricky Gervais doesn’t like hearing people with different opinions than him.

Overthinking however can exaggerate this, overthinking can take that one time you were a bit rude as a child and that problematic “fandom” phase you had as a preteen and make you feel like your worst person in the world.

Your not, but most of us have had moments,there’s also the “not like other girls/boys phase” sometimes it’s just a light-hearted comparison drawing or blog post taken out of context other times it’s the grown-up equivalent of saying “I like this thing over your other thing that means I’m better than you”

Considering my at times cold thoughts it’s weird that I’m the person of all people telling you this

It’s perfectly ok to be prideful and narcissistic just don’t be so arrogant that you forget about your morals and the people that you're close to, but if at times because of mental health you question your levels of empathy, sympathy and compassion that’s ok too, your voices deserve to be heard, and there is help available you can find it through helplines, organizations or even your own comrades.

Outside of all the twits in this horrid fishbowl of a world, there are also millions of very kind nice people, I don’t know where I’d be now without my comrades

The offline pals who are like my sunshine because they brighten up my day,the old secondary school friends that made me feel less alone,the online people who I can vent to, converse with and joke with,the bloggers from years ago that I still sometimes keep in touch with and the creators who through their work in Media, Theatre and the Arts were able to encourage me to keep going, keep working, keep creating.

I think your all lovely and beautiful and creative human beings, no matter what identity you are, what music genre you listen to or what topping you prefer on your pizza

I will most likely adore you and if I haven’t it’s probably because I haven’t met you yet

You are one biscuit of cells, on this fishbowl planet, your mind is a land of wonder and your body is the garden surrounding it, take care of yourself like how you take care of your garden, your pets or the fictional characters you write about.

Your future might not be the future you expect, but it’s one you’ll enjoy.

if you are doing something you love which harms nobody, be as happy and passionate about it as you like

you are a person who deserves the world

Don’t push yourself too hard, if you know you’re doing a good job keep at it, don’t stress yourself too hard, but remember not to procrastinate, your mental health is important, some people might not understand all of the issues you’re going through, but you can make it out alive.

You're, not a number or statistic you're a person, your a beautiful, Kind, incredible, wise person

spread some love and don’t forget what the late Freddie Mercury said,

Keep yourself Alive!

#comedy monologue #original monologue #joke

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nipponnomad · 7 years ago

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Translation: ONE-Sensei Young Sunday Interview :D

youtube

I did my best to summarize this hour-long interview with ONE-sensei, uploaded to YouTube by Young Sunday in March and uploaded to Tumblr by the lovely and talented @one-blog last week. Please note, while my Japanese is decently high-level, I typically translate written Japanese rather than spoken Japanese (which, by its very nature, is harder to translate), so there might be mistakes here or there. That said, I believe I captured the general gist of things. If you're fluent in Japanese and want to do a more comprehensive translation in the future, please feel free!

EDIT: Here are some more detailed translations of selected parts of the interview, based on Japanese transcripts that @isasm found. :)

ONE-SENSEI: YOUNG SUNDAY INTERVIEW

Things to note:

-I mostly focused on what ONE said, as the hosts talked a lot and tended to get off on tangents.

-ONE comes across quite shy in this interview, especially in comparison to the super-chatty hosts. There are times when the hosts start to ask him a question and he doesn't seem to know what to say. There are also a few times where it looks like ONE is honest-to-god dissociating. That said, it's a good interview that includes some pretty insightful commentary.

-ONE is forced to sit in the creakiest wooden chair known to man.

-Maybe this is common knowledge, but is ONE married? You can see what looks like a wedding ring in a lot of shots.

-Instead of “ONE-sensei,” the hosts refer to ONE as “ONE-kun” throughout. I'm not sure why. It's kind of cute though.

The Interview: ONE's Life Story

The hosts begin with small talk, chatting about a new album they've listened to, and introducing ONE-sensei and his work in general terms. ONE doesn't actually show up until about nine and a half minutes in. The hosts ask if he's seen their show before and he says he has, that he watched it after he was invited to appear on it. The hosts seem quite pleased and amused about that.

ONE is asked what sorts of activities he did in middle school and high school. He responds that he did tennis in middle school, but he wasn't at a super high level. Because ONE comes across pretty shy and self-effacing, the hosts joke that they can now understand where Mob Psycho came from. They then announce that they're going to do an abbreviated life history for ONE, who says he's nervous.

ONE says he was born on October 29th, 1986, and is a Scorpio. His birthday is next week or the week after next (from when this interview was filmed). The hosts remark on how he's relatively young.

ONE says he was born in Niigata but raised in Saitama Prefecture, where he's lived for 22 or 23 years. His hometown is near Kounosu (wherever that is). He specifies that his town shares a DMV with Kounosu, which is such a charmingly mundane detail. :P

The hosts ask what kind of kid he was. He says he was a normal kid, but “low tension” (i.e. low energy, quiet, laid back). The hosts say that that explains why his characters tend to be low tension as well. ONE agrees that might be the case. He says there are times when he gets more energetic, and the hosts tease him, implying that now is certainly not one of those times. ONE says he did get really energetic when the One Punch Man anime was announced.

How ONE Started Drawing Manga

The hosts ask how he felt when the One Punch Man anime was announced, and ONE says it was really awesome. The hosts remark that One Punch Man reminds them of American comics and is like a “Japanese Marvel.” ONE agrees that he has a similar image of One Punch Man and has always found its advent a little mysterious—like he doesn't quite know where it came from. ONE states that it's now been about three or four years since One Punch Man debuted in Ura Sunday and Shonen Jump.

ONE says that he started drawing manga in elementary school and can't remember exactly how he got started. He says he remembers reading Crayon Shin-chan on the shinkansen and stuff and trying to draw it (he specifies that he was very slow at drawing at the time). He says that Crayon Shin-Chan was an early influence on him, which the hosts find unusual.

The hosts ask about his upbringing and whether or not his parents were strict. It seems his family was a bit strict and he didn't show them his manga growing up—because he was embarrassed, but also because he expected he would be scolded for drawing manga instead of studying. So basically, he hid his manga hobby until he got to college. The hosts compare him to Kamuro from Mob Psycho, presumably because of the strict family.

The hosts ask if ONE ever submitted one of his comics for publication. ONE says he did submit to Shonen Jump when he was a first-year college student, but that it didn't go well because “it wasn't an interesting story.” He says the guy who reviewed his manga at Shonen Jump went through it really fast with a totally blank face and that ONE was sent packing pretty quickly.

Because the submission didn't go well, ONE started putting his comics on his personal blog. At the time, it was really hard to read the comic on your phone because you could basically only see one panel at a time and you had to go through all fifteen pages that way. Eventually, he started drawing manga on his computer and uploading it from there. He got really into the “pasokon manga” culture and bought himself a drawing tablet and downloaded Comic Studio.

He began uploading his work to a pasokon manga site where all the users were beginners or semi-professional. As far as I can tell, the site was called NEETsha, short for “NEET Shakai” or “NEET Society.” (Please feel free to correct me if I'm wrong on that one.) This was when he started drawing One Punch Man.

About One Punch Man

The hosts ask where the name One Punch Man (“Wanpanman”) came from. One host points out that it obviously sounds like Anpanman. Obviously it also sounds like One Piece (“Wanpiisu”), which is a sales juggernaut in Japan. ONE points out that actually “Wanpanman” outsells “Wanpiisu” overseas.

They ask what kind of character ONE was aiming for when he created Saitama. ONE says he always loved shonen manga and read a lot of it, and he thought about the final episode/battle, when the character was at their greatest strength. Basically, he thought it would be funny to start with a character who was already at the peak of their power and go from there, watching each successive villain get taken out in one hit.

Within the world of One Punch Man, the hosts note, Saitama is basically a regular person, he's laid back and flexible and his main concern is everyday stuff like going to special sales. They also note that Mob is similar, being a quiet type of guy who keeps a low profile until his percentage starts going up.

The hosts ask if One Punch Man immediately became popular after ONE posted it to NEETsha. ONE says it was pretty soon afterward, and that he enjoyed reading everyone's thoughts and comments and encouragement.

At this point, the hosts realize the interview is half over and they've totally forgotten about the personal history thing.

About Mob Psycho 100

As the hosts see it, there are three major themes in ONE's work: 1) What is power? 2) What should be done with power? 3) What is our true power, and how are we supposed to live with that power? We don't typically see the characters longing for more power; instead, we're dropped into the middle of the story and watch what they do after they've already become powerful. This is evident in Mob Psycho 100.

The hosts ask if the Mob Psycho manga has changed from when ONE put it online to when it was released in print. ONE says it hasn't really changed but it was worse reading it online because it was so small and hard to read on a cell phone screen. The hosts also ask if ONE has had assistants helping him to edit and fix things up, but ONE says they weren't there in the beginning.

The hosts look at some of the pages from Mob Psycho and comment on the art. When they compliment ONE's use of lines for emphasis in one picture, ONE says, in a self-deprecating sort of way, that he just did it using a tool in Comic Studio. The hosts also remark on the way Reigen holds a phone in one panel (you probably know which one) and laugh a lot. However, following this seeming criticism, one of the hosts keeps calling the art in Mob Psycho “punk” or “hip hop.” I had a hard time figuring out what he meant by that, but I think he's calling it a sort of indie, outsider art. He goes on to say that it's not like how everyone else draws and isn't imitating the prevailing manga style.

The same host states that there are two kinds of mangaka: 1) the “cover band” type that imitates others without really thinking for themselves, and 2) the type that doesn't imitate others and thinks for themselves. For example, many “cover band” mangaka imitate the battle scenes in Dragonball, whereas the ones in Mob Psycho look—if anything—more like battles in Akira. The hosts ask ONE if he was inspired by Akira. ONE says he likes Akira but doesn't really answer one way or another.

The hosts have been talking a lot, so they interrupt themselves to ask if ONE wants to correct them on anything. ONE has just one thing he wants to say: when he was drawing the picture of Reigen holding the cell phone, surprisingly enough, he drew it while looking at his own hand. This comment gets big laughs.

Themes in ONE's Work

The hosts discuss the issue of “leveling up,” comparing it to “geemu nou” (“game brain,” a type of dementia allegedly caused by playing too many video games). In English academic discourse, we would probably call this “gameification.” Basically, people who play a lot of games—as well as the protagonists in a lot of shonen manga—become obsessed with “reaching the next level” and don't focus on anything else. The hosts ask ONE if there's some sort of lesson in his work about the dangers of this type of single-mindedness.

ONE says that he's noticed this tendency in shonen manga. By contrast, he discusses the series he was influenced by as a child, Crayon Shin-chan—specifically, the movie version of Crayon Shin-chan. As a series about a normal family, Crayon Shin-chan was generally fairly peaceful and funny. However, in the movie, things got kind of serious. ONE believes that, when things get serious in a gag series, they hit extra hard.

He compares this to One Punch Man. Even though it's a gag manga, the world itself is pretty serious, with people being killed by monsters all the time and so on. Existence itself is like a gag in the world of One Punch Man, which ONE finds interesting.

Finally, the hosts show pages from the fight between the esper kids and Claw's 7th Division. They discuss the part where Mob very calmly and directly tells Gas Mask Ojiichan: “Having psychic powers won't make you popular.” Gas Mask Ojiichan then gets upset and yells: “EVEN SO, I SHOULD BE TREATED SPECIAL!” So basically, Claw is full of children who never managed to mature into adults and don't want to become “commoners.”

ONE then talks about “commoners,” average people who get up in the morning, get on the train to go to work, and do their best day after day. ONE thinks that this in itself—being a member of society—is difficult in its own way, and that's what Saitama and Mob are trying to do.

I feel like that's a really lovely way to end the interview. Sadly, they never finish the personal history and we never find out what ONE's favorite food, color, movie, manga, and type of woman are. :(

#ONE #one-sensei #one-blog #one punch man #mob psycho 100 #opm #mp100 #translation #interview

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