#I promise I'll get back to replies soonish

[essayofthoughts]

🦋🕯️💌 for the emoji ask game!

🦋what are you most insecure about when you post a fic?

Not really insecure about anything these days? I've posted a truly absurd amount of fic and my previous fandoms include Harry Potter (TERF author can go rot) and MCU (... character roundabouts abound and the tonky stans refuse to admit it) so ... fandoms don't scare me much, I'm liberal with the block and delete buttons and I'm pretty confident in my own writing ability and general standing as a fanfic author.

I think the only thing I tend to worry about is my tags? I always either miss something, or tag something in a slightly weird way there's probably something better for. If you ever notice a fic of mine that could do with either tag pruning or an additional tag - please do let me know. I once managed to forget to add Whump to a fics tags and only remembered when a commenter mentioned it, I promise, I will not be mad.

🕯️how do you think engaging with each other through tumblr, twitter, comments, kudos, creates healthy fandom experiences? How do you deal with that if you’re not a social person/experience social anxiety?

See, I am Bad At People. I had very few friends going up and whether or not I have any neurodivergency (unknown, not unlikely, Dad almost definitely is, but I also have trauma from bullying and a shitty ex to complicate matters) I don't always socialise so good. I tend to observe social interactions and write them well, but outside of my close friends I get very antsy about interacting with new people.

This is why, generally, I stay in my own lane on tumblr; I'll post my metas and analysis here or in response to asks and only occasionally add them to other posts - and then posts by either people I know or, for whatever reason, feel comfortable enough to add to. I used to be a lot more fighty but frankly that intersects with my social shit badly and I am trying to keep to things which spark joy, even if people being wrong on the internet regularly makes me want to fight them.

Anyway. Comments are also easy because like - an awful lot of people don't respond to your comments? And it's a massive load off my anxious back to know I can just leave a comment and probably won't get any response. And then, if there is a response, it's often delightful because I wasn't expecting it and it's to a comment I probably put way too much thought into which means there's often something fun to discuss. Likewise - I love when people comment on my work with clearly thought out considerations and I know, from my own experiences, that many don't expect a reply and it'll be a nice surprise for them.

And, like I said - I'm trying to keep to things which spark joy. Spreading that joy in fandom is one such. World sucks enough - lets not add to it.

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

So uh.

I reblogged a meta from @exhaustedwerewolf a lil while back and it's because of that meta that Kash is now eating my brain apparently? I have gained a new blorbo. I will be resuming my other WIPs soonish - the intense rush of writing has definitely tapered off some - but uh. Now I have 2(.5) new WIPs, centring on Kash and Zahra.

Oops?

Look I just really like poking at characters and their trauma and Kash and Zahra are both fun and drastically different examples.

Anyway so uh.

From what we hear of Kash's backstory, that boy was raised in a cult? I'm so glad I've listened to the Gangster Capitalism series on Liberty University and read/watched/listened as much as I have to stuff about cults and cult-like entities and abuse within those structures because uh.

Boy has some shit to pick through!

(It's extremely engaging.)

[mryddinwilt]

Hi! Please please continue the mutual pining canon divergence fic! Seriously, s3 angst and pining gives me life!! I'll promise to read all of your amazing ideas for this fic omg i can't wait!! It's sooooo amazing and I want more HAHAHAHAHA THE LONGING LOOKS, OMG THAT STUFF IS MY WEAKNESS I NEED IT IN MY LIFE!! (I'm secretly super thankful we want the same "tropes", now I get to read amazing fics from you) Stay inspired!!! Xx, diane

You have always been such a sweet and supportive reader! Thank you! As promised (though much delayed) here is a continuation! This is going on the archives soonish but to catch-up: Emma moved to NYC and Hook is ferrying Henry back and forth on weekends. Angst ensues. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3   Rated T | 1.2k 

Emma checked the old clock hanging above the desk and tapped her foot.

“You got somewhere to be, Emma?” Hank, the desk sergeant, asked as he looked up from the booking paperwork.  

“Just want to get home and out of this.” She gave him a half smile and gestured to her short red dress and matching heels. The outfit was good for capturing men’s attention long enough for her to slap a pair of cuffs on them but not the most comfortable when processing the skip. She didn’t add that Henry would be getting back from his trip to Storybrooke that evening and she wanted to be home when he arrived. She had missed her son this weekend and wanted some time with him before he rushed off to school Monday morning. There was, of course, the added complication of a certain devilishly handsome pirate who would be dropping him off but Emma was doing her best to ignore that particular detail.

“Well we are almost done,” Hank said.

Emma nodded knowing that was code for at least another twenty minutes. She pulled out her phone and texted Henry.

hung up at the station. be home in forty minutes if traffic is good. tell Hook thanks.

She paused wondering if she should have Hook watch him. But Henry would be fine on his own, there was no reason for Hook to stick around and Emma didn’t want it to seem like she was desperate to see him. Because she wasn’t. In fact, it would be better to avoid him and another encounter that made her ask questions that she shouldn’t. She hit send. The little dots appeared immediately

ok we just docked can I order pizza?

sure kid. and some cheesy bread while you’re at it.

He sent back a smiley and she put the phone away. As Hank continued to shuffle, stamp, and sign papers her mind turned to Hook and if she was being honest with herself she would have admitted that she was disappointed that she would miss him. Of course, Emma was rarely honest with herself.

In the end, it took twenty-five minutes before she left the station. All the way home she fought the flutter of hope that told her Hook would still be there, that he would have insisted on waiting. She wanted to be wrong and right at the same time and her stomach churned as a result. When she got to her door she paused and listened. She heard the faint sounds of the TV next door but nothing from her apartment. She pushed away her disappointment as she opened the door. Once inside she paused to slip out of her heels and pull off her jacket.

“Henry. I’m home.”  There was no reply. She frowned and went toward his room. “Henry?”

She reached his door just as Hook came out of it. They stopped just short of colliding and Emma caught her breath. A million emotions flooded through her but she settled on the one she was comfortable with–frustration.

“Hook? What the h–“

His finger pressed against her lips and she stopped.

“He’s asleep.” Hook whispered stirring the hair near her face with his hot breath. For a moment all Emma could think of was him tapping his lips in Neverland and the overwhelming urge she had to kiss him. She stepped back and his finger fell from her lips and shot behind his ear as he glanced down. He breathed in sharply and then his eyes were traveling back up her body as he took in her dress.

“Swan.” His voice was uneven. He glanced at her lips and she licked them involuntarily.

A loud knock came from the door. Emma jumped like a guilty teenager. She spun away and for a moment she forgot how to walk. Then she was moving and pulling it open to the grinning pizza delivery guy. She didn’t know if she wanted to punch him or thank him for stopping whatever had almost happened.

As they sorted out the payment the guy smiled at her his eyes taking the same path as Hook’s but leaving her feeling completely different. He was looking at her with admiration and a hunger that made her feel like less than a person. Hook had looked at her with a reverence and awe that had made her feel more like a princess. Maybe that’s why she had been five seconds from…whatever it was.

With pizza boxes in hand, Emma closed the door and took a few seconds to center herself before turning and facing Hook.

“Emma, I–“

“It wasn’t–“

They both started and then stopped. When she didn’t start again Hook did.

“I wanted to make sure the lad was safe. He fell asleep waiting for the pizza. I deposited him in his bed.” He gestured to the door.

She nodded. “Thanks.”

She heard the TV next door, the fridge humming, and the thrum of her own heart. She refused to meet his eyes but saw the clenching of his jaw. This was ridiculous they were both adults. They should just… But Emma didn’t know how to finish the sentence, didn’t know what they should or shouldn’t do.

Hook made a sound that might have been a cough or a huff. “I guess I will leave you to your dinner.” But he didn’t make a move to leave and she realized she was blocking his exit. That he didn’t trust himself to come that close to her again, she wasn’t sure she trusted herself either. All she had to do was step aside and let him leave and then she could be alone and could push the feelings he had let loose back into the box where they belonged.  She walked into the kitchen and placed the pizza on the counter. She heard his steps heading for the door.

“Well, there is plenty of food.” She found herself saying in a far too neutral voice given the way she felt. She turned to face him “If you are hungry.” She shrugged.

His eyes studied her with a lightning speed that took her breath away. And in the silence she suddenly knew that she wanted him to stay and the intensity of the feeling scared her. His shoulders drooped slightly.

“Thank you for the offer but I should be going.” His voice gave nothing away.

“Okay.” She turned hoping he hadn’t seen her disappointment.

After a pause, he spoke. “Goodnight, Swan.”

“Night.” She replied without turning, pretending to be searching for a plate. When the door clicked shut she closed her eyes, breathed deep, and reminded herself that this is what she had wanted when she moved to New York.

This is part of my “fanfic as timed writing exercise” prompts. And I have a lot asking for this to continue so expect more of various lengths (and quality). All of these will be tagged “mutual pining canon divergence”