#anyways peace out ✌🏻 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gadriezmannsgirl · 2 years ago

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Not Like Others -P.G (2)

Not me ending this as soon as I got home and did all my homework a bit rushed at 1:35am knowing I had to wake up early today✌🏻😌✨😁 But still I fell asleep with my phone in hand, so I didn't posted it on the time I had finished😭🥴 and now I'm off of work and decided to take a little breather from Uni work. Anyways... I hope you enjoy it! Please, let me know what you think of this! And I want to hear/read you guys out, what do you think it'll happen in the series?!

|Chapter I| |Chapter III|

Summary: When you get the chance of meeting Pablo Gavi, you don't seem to react as the rest of people would do and that attracts him to you

Two Weeks Later

Being the new girl was absolutely awful, everyone is looking at you, talking, whispering about you, judging the way your looks without getting to know anything from you first. You hated it and you hated being in the spotlight.

You had a week going at the Universitat de Barcelona and you were still pretty much alone since no one has got closer to you for anything. You now remember why you hated the thought of moving to a new country, this was exactly what you imaginated and exactly what you disliked.

Walking into the cafeteria, everyone turned to look at you once more, you sighed grabbing your lunch and going towards the table that was in the back, ready to eat. Have you said you hated being in this kind of spotlight?

Because you had done a revalidation and equivalence of your recent college studies in Canada for the transfer, you were now in your third semester (two semesters behind of what you actually were), where the UB had been the first one interested in you and opened their doors, accepting you into their university family. You were currently sat at one of the tables eating your lunch and enjoying some words of Colleen Hoover “Regretting You” when two girls and three boys stood in front of you

"¿Les puedo ayudar en algo?" (Can I help you with anything?) You said

"Yes, ¿Podemos sentarnos contigo?" (Can we sit with you?) The red haired girl said with a small smile

"Hemos estado queriendo acercarnos desde que llegaste pero no sabíamos como" (We've been wanting get closer to you ever since you came here but we didn't know how) The sunkissed skin boy said showing his dimples as you nod witth a light smile

"Sure" You made space for them to fill the table

"Anastasia Rodríguez but everyone calls me Ana" A dark haired girl with glasses said

"I'm Olivia Montero" The red haired girl said doing a peace sign with her fingers

"Jonathan Ontero" A blonde guy smiled

"Eric Wolf" A dark haired boy with deep blue eyes said

"Antonio Figueroa" The sunkissed boy said

"Nice to meet you guys, I'm Y/N Santos" You smiled softly

"Have you got any other friends? What do you think of the Uni?" Jonathan asked as you shake your head laughing

"You guys are the first ones to come by" You admit shyly "And it's huge, I keep on getting lost" They laugh "but it's really pretty"

"Is that why you came late to Paint II?" You nod shyly

"I think the professor doesn't like me though, he keeps on putting this bitchy face whenever I appear on his vision" They laugh

"No, that's his face. I promise" Eric chuckled as you nod laughing quietly

"I'm sorry if this may sound a bit out of place, but it's so cool and at the same time so weird to have a Canadian between us"

"I'm not" You shook your head "I'm Spaniard"

"You're even cooler then!" Ana exclaimed making a few heads come to where you were sitting, Jonathan sushed her as she softly pushed her finger up to her lip in a quiet motion. You couldn't help but laugh

"Lo siento" You said as they waved you off with a smile.

They kept on talking and it was safe to say you liked them, they were really funny. You don’t know how or when but after the lunch they had spent the rest of the day with you. Anastasia claiming you as one of them now, you smiled and accepted. You had enjoyed the day with their jokes, occurrences and got a hold of the whole system at college because of them.

They reminded you a little bit of your old friend group but instead of being five (six including you), your old group consisted of four, two and two. However these guys were chattier than ever and you loved that too seeing that you also loved to talk.

“Oh, Y/N! One of my friends is doing this party this Saturday, you should come!” Jonathan said as you all were meeting after the last class of the day.

"Party?" You ask "It's their birthday?" He shook his head

"More like a celebration" He added "He's in a team and wants to do a celebration for this big win" You nod processing

“Oh gosh! Yes, that’s such a good idea! You can socialize more, get to know people and even Barcelona!” Olivia said as you shook your head lightly

"I don't know" You said doubtly "I know nobody in there and I'm sure you guys will do your thing" You waved your hands around "The last thing I want is one of you stop spending a good time to practically babysit me and no, señor. That's not happening" You shook your head and also shook your finger side to side as they all smiled

"You're cute if you think we won't spend THE greatest time over there" You smiled blushing lightly at Eric

"Also, you're cute thinking we'll give up on the first try" Ana wrapped her arm around your shoulder "You just have to wait, you'll be crazy for the party"

And three days later you were tired of waiting. The persuasive method of these guys was extremely annoying and you were already guessing the words that could come out of their mouths, each one, taking turns on who was the one speaking next.

You could even say you had dreamed with the: 'You have/gotta/should come to my/Jonathan's friend party! It'll be awesome and we'll all be there, pretty please' words.

And when Antonio opened his mouth you instantly shushed him off.

"I'll be there" You said to him as he smiled nodding fist bumping the air

"I knew it!" He exclaimed a little bit too loud

"If you already knew the various artistic movements, Mr. Figueroa, I ask you to come up here and explain some of them" Miss Alba, the professor of Modern Art, told him in a monotone voice and her facial expression was up in interest as everyone turned around to look at you both. You looked down in shame and blushed hard as Antonio stuttered

"I-I...mmm"

"The most seen, used and that we can qualify as importants are cubism, futurism, surrealism, impressionism, expressionism, art brut and a few more" You spoke up with determination, you had already seen this curse back in Canada and you had nailed every test, quiz, popquiz, presentation and essays.

"Well done, señorita Santos. Now, señor Figueroa, le aconsejo que preste un poco más de atención a la clase y deje de hablar con Y/N, entendemos que es una chica muy bonita, inteligente y es nueva aquí, pero por favor, para los chats existen las horas de descanso" (Mr. Figueroa, I suggest you to pay a little more of attention to the class and stop talking with Y/N, we understand she's pretty, smart and new girl here, but, please, you can do that bit of chatting on your resting times) If you had blushed you were now rainbow coloured, Antonio had murmured a quiet "Sure, professor" and sank back on his seat as you heard the laughs of the whole class came in embarrassing the two of you

"Happy?" You whisper ask "You embarrassed us!"

"No, I embarrassed myself. You saved your ass answering to that question" He said with a light smile on

You shook your head and smiled lightly

"Good thing is" Antonio said softly leaning over you "... You'll go to the party" You smile nodding

"You did it, guys. I'm going to the damn party" He fist bumped the air again

"¡Joder que si!" He says as you sush him once more

"Stop that!"

...

You wonder how you got in this position.

Antonio said he was going to give you the lift but his car suddenly broke down and he was coming later because of it. Jonathan and Ana were already there since the evening helping Jonathan's friend out, Olivia was going with her boyfriend and he was driving her. And Eric had a last minute issue with his grandmother so he couldn't go, nothing too big though.

You didn't trusted going in cabs alone, you never liked it, ever since you were little and saw that a man had kidnapped a woman like that you had hated it, and on really weird ocassions you were going into one but you always had to be on the phine with someone or messaging.

Your parents were busy at the traffic and you were stuck, you thought of pulling out from the party but you also hated it, giving your word and then not fulfilling in what you said.

So, with a call to your mom letting her know you'll go there walking and a google map direction from Jonathan you decided to grab your keys and walked all the way there. It was 4:30pm so the sun was still visible and when you realized the walk was 25 minutes away, it got better and didn't think to much of it.

But how the hell did you decided to get to the party on foot was the best option if you only had two weeks and three days moved in the Catalan streets?

...Guess who ended up lost?

You sighed once more, the map only confusing you even more, you were supposed to be at El Camino street but you saw around you and you were at the Las Palmas street. You sighed in defeat.

"I'll die today" You murmured sighing

You tried to go up to people and ask them directions but you were either too shy or they didn't stopped not even to give you the time.

You were about to call desperate to any of the guys or even your parents to take you either back home or towards the party when you saw three boys across you eating a cup of ice cream.

This was your chance to get all sorted out and hopefully go to the right way towards the house.

"Hola" You touched one of the guys shoulder when he turned around his expression was full on scrunched up, it seemed like he was bothered by your presence and you smiled at him "Lamento molestarles" (Sorry to bother you, guys) You said softly to direct yourself towards the guy who's shoulder you touched and face was scrunched up "¿Quería preguntarte si tu podrías...?" (I wanted to ask you if you could...?) He cut you off harshly

"No estoy disponible para fotos o autógrafos ahorita, lo siento. Estoy con mis amigos en una salida y queremos pasarla bien" (I'm not up for pics or autographs right now, sorry. I'm with my friends and we just wanna have a great time) He said and you furrowed your eyebrows before laughing lightly

"¿Okay? Eso está perfecto. I wanted to-" (That's perfect)

"Please, no autographs nor pics"

"¿Autógrafos? ¿Fotos? I'm sorry, who do you think you are?" (Autographs? Pics?) You asked laughing lightly

"Like you don't know who I am" He said not believing it

"I don't know actually! Are you that important for me to ask for a pic or something?" He stood there without saying anything

"I don't believe it. Just go please, I'm not in the mood right now" He said and you sighed shaking your head

"Ay, hermano. ¿Sabes? Olvídalo. Was going to ask you to give me this address because I'm new here and most likely, lost; but nevermind" (Oh, bro. You know what? Just forget it) You shook your head watching his face fall a bit once you showed him your phone with Google maps on "Gracias de todas maneras" (Thank you either way) You said "Lamento arruinarles la tarde" (Sorry to ruin your evening) You said once more before turning around

"Oye, no. Lo siento, déjame-" This time you cut him off by showing your palm

"Don't worry, have a nice day" You smiled politely "Try not to be an arrogant asshole next time, maybe" You left them hearing the calls from the guy but you didn't paid attention to him too busy looking at your phone trying to guess if it's right or left

"Hola" Someone said behind you, you turned around seeing one of the guys that were along with the arrogant brunette "Disculpa a mi amigo. Es un poco quisquilloso" (Hi. Excuse my friend. He's a little peaky)

"Un poco arrogante, diría yo" (A little arrogant, I'd say) He laughed nodding

"Only sometimes" You hummed

"That's not nice at all, then" You say crossing your arms across your chest "So...?" You ask hinting on him to tell you the reason why he had come up to you

"I'm willing to help you out find the address" He said and you nodded taking out your phone, showing it to him "You're close, five minutes away tops"

"Really?" You ask impressed watching as he laughs nodding

"This is Las Palmas street, the next one is El Camino. It says here you take a turn on the left and at the end of the street there's this residence, it's in there" He smiles as you nod smiling too

"Okay okay, cool. Thank you so much. I'm sorry for ruining your evening"

"You didn't ruined anything in fact, I'm sorry for Gavi's behaviour" You smile shaking your head

"Is he really known? Or he was just taking the piss out of me?" The guy stays quiet for a bit as you shook your head "Well, nevermind... Just tell him to come down from that cloud of his, please. Arrogancy doesn't look nice at all" You said as he nods pointing gunfingers at you

"Got it" He smiled "I'm Diego, by the way. I hope Barcelona is of your liking"

"Thanks, it's really gorgeous... I just have to learn the streets" He laughed as you smiled waving at him "Gotta go, bye! And thanks once again"

"No problem at all!" That's the last thing you heard from the guy before you're walking away.

As you followed instructions from him, you indeed realized you were a block away from El Camino street, you smiled once you saw the big white house as Jonathan had described. You texted him letting him know you were outside, music was being heard from the inside and you smiled grew when you saw Jonathan came out opening the door for you.

"Y/N! I'm glad you are here!"

"I know, I'm glad too! I came here walking and got 'lost' and then there were these guys, one of them was an incredible hijo e'puta but the other helped me out"

"First going out, first party, first fight, first lost and first almost everything today... Checked from the list" You smiled shaking your head "C'mon, let's introduce you to Alejandro, my childhood best friend" Once you got inside, Jonathan's eyes were dancing across the people inside here "¡Balde!" He yelled across the upbeat song "There he is"

You walked next to him until you stopped in front of two guys who were talking and laughing in their world

"Guys! This is Y/N, the newest member into the Uni club" All four guys smiled

"Soy Alejandro" A black skin boy said hugging and giving you two kisses as you did the same "Alejandro Balde, es un placer conocerte. And this is a friend of mine, Ferran Torres"

You greeted the short haired boy just like you did with Alejandro

"¡Bienvenida a Barcelona!" Ferran said as you smile

"¡Gracias!"

"Y/N, mi casa, tú casa" Alejandro said "The kitchen is over there with the drinks and food, the backyard" He was pointing to everywhere he talked "And if you need the bathrooms, let me know, going to the downstairs bath in a party is a bit awful" You laugh nodding and agreeing with him

"¡Gracias!" You said once more

"Don't worry, hope you have a nice time!"

Yeah. You hoped that too.

After a long while drinking some Coca-Cola, dancing, eating a few snacks and overall having a nice time with your friends and Jonathan's buddies, you all sat down outside to enjoy the starry night

"Oh! I just remembered!" You said "Jonathan told me you guys were doing some celebration. I really don't know what you guys have achieved but congratulations" Ferran, Alejandro, Eric and Pablo Torre laughed lightly

"We're football players"

"That's nice!" You open your eyes lightly "And what did you guys won?"

"La Supercopa España" Pablo said as if nothing and you nodded once again "We're first team players"

"Really?"

"You don't watch football?" You shook your head a bit ashamed

"I don't really like it that much" They faked hurt "Sorry!" You all laugh "I rather hockey tho"

"Nice sport" You nod

"It truly is" You smile remembering your team "And which club you guys are in?"

"FC Barcelona" You smile got bigger.

Yes, you didn't liked football but that doesn't meant you don't know the game or the different leagues of it and Barça was a really good and skilled team. You knew your rookies about it, not many but enough to defend yourself.

"Really cool" You said "Well, then... Congratulations on the win guys"

"Gracias" Ferran said "Let me just say... Having us a friends, you'll end up falling in love with football"

"And most important, terminarás siendo una Culé" (You'll end up being a Culé) You shook your head smiling softly

"I don't think so... Gotta stay loyal to my hockey and my Mapple Leafs" They laugh

"Nah, ya verás" (you'll see) Alejandro said shaking his head

"Lo veré" (I'll see) you all laughed

"Let's see that now, then. We'll be waiting for you" Ale said

"Waiting for me when and where?" You asked

"You're invited to the next game at Camp Nou, Y/N" Torre said as you nod

That sounds good... I mean, what could possibly happen? It's just a game with your new friends.

"Deal"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @anastasia-nova @pixwls @footballerficsposts @dessxoxsworld @berriesarenice @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @mystic-aquarius @bisexualbith @sideeblogsstuff @http-isabela

I'm doing a taglist for Not Like Others, if you want to be there, comment a little "NLO taglist, please" and I will know that you wanna be included in it and you will be. Like I said in the beggining, I truly hope you guys like it, let me know what you think. Please, feedback is really important to me because it lets me know you like my works, it helps me with writing and makes me feel nice knowing all the effort I put in these little stories is worth it. With this being said, I read you guys, take care!

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phati-sari · 2 months ago

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Hello.

I know you don't get paid to do this, but you also have no right to give wrong information to people.

I feel blog like this should run because of love for the show but you guys make it look like we are dumb & you all are intelligent(who haven't saw it during the time of airing still acts like know everything about what happened off screen). But I agree, you all have more knowledge about creativity.

Truth hurts, right ? When you have nothing to say, just say "go away man". How easy, right ?

I know Barun-biased fans are like this only. Doesn't leave single opportunity to give credit to him. Then, only for namesake, will say that Sanaya is an underrated actress.

You were so right when you said people can't see their own contradictions. The one who here saying I am toxic, is the one have a fanfiction, many scenes of which, resembles your fanfiction( But that would be called inspiration😏). And I don't understand, how stating facts looks to her, like I said you own Barun Sobti or the rights to the character. But it's okay. People like me, dumb & toxic, won't able to understand it.

And It applies to you also. I shouldn't have expected an honest answer from an IPKKND 3 fan like you, who found parallel scenes in rangrasiya but maybe didn't find any resemblance between IPKKND season 1 & season 3 (that's why have a separate blog), about IPKKND. My fault. Anyway, keep doing what you are doing. Whatever it is, in the end it's a person's choice what to believe.

And sorry,I disturb your PEACE OF MIND by stating FACTS.

PEACE OUT.✌🏻

Hello!

I am exhausted. I don't know what to say to you. You are clearly very upset and I am sorry for the role I played in that. I have never called you dumb or toxic, but you seem to be finding meaning in my words that I didn't intend, and this indicates that I should have worked harder to be clearer. We are clearly having a horrible misunderstanding around intent and tone.

I still genuinely think that we are saying the same thing, we're just applying different timeframes to it and perhaps we are not using the same words. But even if we have a difference in opinion, that's understandable. Everyone brings their own lives and analysis and biases to analysis -- I reckon it is impossible to be truely objective when enjoying a piece of media. I didn't approach any of your messages with the intent of trying to change your views. You are welcome to your views and thoughts, I genuinely am not bothered, and I apologise for coming across as forceful.

I also didn't think I was giving out incorrect information, I was telling the original anon what the creative team was thinking at the time of airing and why the kidnapping track is the way it is. In most of my responses, I have noted that their efforts seem unnecessary -- there was nothing to worry about. But I am sorry that I've made you feel unheard.

Attacking my likes and dislikes because they don't match yours is unfair. I do see similarities between the two iterations of IPK. I have gifsets here and here about it. My analysis on @rowdyprofessor addresses the absurdity, the abusiveness, the absolutely shambles that IPKKND3 was. I didn't make another blog to hide my interest. I made it because it's cleaner (for me) to have side blogs for other shows. I created side-blogs for most shows I watched until I decided to house it all under @ferociouspompom. I keep the IPKKND3 blog because it has the saat soch posts.

You seem to have already made your mind up about me, perhaps even before our first interaction. Something about the way you reference Barun-biased blogs makes me wonder whether our interactions were designed as a test -- one that I failed quite spectacularly. I'm sorry that I disappointed you. I did agree with you in some parts:

I am not disagreeing with you. In hindsight, it’s pretty obvious that Khushi and Irani’s portrayal of Khushi played a bigger role in the show’s success than 4Lions or StarPlus thought and the kidnapping track would have stood up fine without the extra elements.

I don't think I'm smarter than anyone else. I don't think my way of thinking is the only way of thinking. But I do think that if someone comes into my space and asks for my opinion, it implies they respect my opinion. And I believe that respect should flow regardless of whether I agree or disagree with the askers point of view. I'm not telling anyone to change their views, and all I ask is that people afford me the same courtesy. Plus, some over a decade since the show aired, it's just unlikely that anyone, you or me or anyone else , is going to change their views.

I'm very sorry. You seem worked up over this and I can only apologise for the role I have played in how you feel. It was not my intent to hurt you. I still don't really understand what's going on because I feel I did agree with you on several points, but I understand that we're having some breakdown in communication that is only getting worse when I try to interact with you.

So, for the sake of both your peace and mine, this will be the last message I respond to.

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tommyssupercoolblog · 4 months ago

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A moot of yours who used to be a singlet but recently found out I'm actually plural, any advice?

BE NICE TO UR HEADMATES and figure out a way to be at peace with each other ✌🏻 because in system conflict SUCKS ASS

Get to know urself and each other :0 differences, similarities, all dat. You may find that a food one of you hates is one another person in your system LOVES, etc etc. try things out and you might find things you really like! Plus it just feels nice to know who u are

If in-system communication doesn't come naturally to you, find ways to do it! Work towards being able to collaborate 🤝 and communicate with each other

Connected to the above in a way; boundaries. It's important you all are able to communicate boundaries with each other, especially on privacy. For example, Seán is a more private person than me and he doesn't want anyone to share like, MOST info about him without permission- so if we're talking to someone, I (and everyone else) won't just share stuff without asking, because we know he likes to be in control of that and be able to keep things to himself, or at least be the one to share it. He also has a lot of stuff that he'll only show me, or keep to himself entirely, and everyone knows not to go through his things. I, on the other hand will tell people almost anything if they ask me, and I don't really care if other alters go through my sketchbooks or anything because if they asked me like, any question about myself, I'd answer it anyway. So make sure you're on the same page with each other on boundaries with regards to privacy (and also anything else you can think of).

Simplyplural app can help you track fronting times, but can also just be a handy place to store system info :3

If you DO have a headspace, it usually pays to make sure you're able to access it and practice that, assuming you can't access it easily (some systems can, some can't). If you DON'T have a headspace, you can either try and make one (some systems have managed to do this and have it work) or just account for it in system communication stuff (it might need you need to leave more physical notes or use the polling/chat features in simplyplural, for example)

Pluralkit bot for discord will allow you to have seperate usernames and pfps in discord if u want them. There's also a Minecraft mod for that, I'll go figure out the name and edit this post with it

Chill out and just exist. Don't worry about system roles or what your "purpose" is as an alter, let yourself just. Be.

If any of you want/need a sperate space (their own Tumblr sideblog or blog, for example, like how me and Seán have seperate ones) then go ahead and make one! But don't feel pressured to do that if you don't want to. There's nothing wrong with sharing everything!!!

If you're out as a system to a person who's in-person with you, it might also pay to communicate who's fronting; for if you want them to know in general, but also for if one of you has different boundaries or preferences than other people. Seán doesn't like to be touched (he'll tune out when I hug people in front) so if he's fronting/piloting, people know not to touch us. Mom will hug me and play with my hair a lot but when she's with Seán she's careful not to do that- she'll occasionally offer a fist bump tho

Once you're ready, consider ur goals for the system in the long term- do you just want to exist peacefully as multiple, or do you want to fuse together? What does ur future look like, ideally? Different alters may have different wants and needs, so don't force it!! It's possible some of you will fuse and the rest will stay separate or something like dat

Don't wallow in misery. Being plural can be hard but it can also be awesome, and to quote a certain Tumblr post, you don't have to perform your rock bottom for the sake of people believing you. If you only focus on the negatives and beat yourself up, all it'll accomplish is feeling SUPER depressed and miserable. Love yourself/selves, all of you. It makes life better.

#asks #plurality #plural #system #multiple #multiplicity #endo safe

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stubblesandwich · 2 months ago

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Slice Of Life

A Captain Swan & Captain Cobra fanfic, written for @pirateprincessofpizza for @cssecretsanta2020.

Rated: General

Words: 6,000+ (I knoowww, I'm sorry 🙈)

Author's Note: Merry Christmas, Pirate! I'm SO SORRY this is a few days late. 🙃 Forgive me. I hope the fact that it's so darn long helps soften the blow of its lateness. This is actually going to be part one of a series I'd like to do, completely inspired by your username/enduring admiration for pizza, as well as your desire for more "slice of life" scenes, surrounding different points in Emma and Killian's relationship as it grows through the seasons. Each story will feature pizza in some way or another, because pizza is great, despite what other pirates might think to the contrary. 👀

Anyway!! Merry (belated) Christmas, my dear! I loved getting to know you through our long messages, and I hope you find this fic to be at least semi heart warming. I had fun writing it, and I look forward to continuing it with a second chapter set in the 6-week era of peace in S4. 👀👀

This one is set during season 3B, with Emma trying to juggle having a good relationship with her son and make an attempt at normal in the times of the Wicked Witch--by having a shared dinner with Captain Hook, obviously. Set some evening post-Neal's death but before poor Killian has his lips cursed.

AO3 link here if that's easier ✌🏻

+++

Life is made up of moments, her father had once told her. Good ones. Bad ones. But they're all worth living.

And this, right here? This is a good moment.

The town, for once, is quiet.

No new flying monkey bite victims. Nothing from the Wicked Witch. And while all nefarious villains are undoubtedly planning and plotting more nefarious deeds, tonight, Emma Swan does not care about any of that. (She doesn't even sort of care.)

What she cares about is the black-clad, self-proclaimed scoundrel sitting across from her whose more nefarious days seem to be tucked away behind him for safe keeping. The black-clad scoundrel currently looking at her like a confused puppy, slight head tilt included.

"And what, pray tell, is pizza?" he asks, as he reaches for his mug of beer. Granny's been trying out a few new brews on tap (that Emma is pretty sure some of the dwarves have been concocting illegally, but she doesn't have the mental capacity to check into that any further at present) and has roped Killian into taste testing one of them for her. Killian, never one to see a lady in peril, needed no arm twisting and was happy to oblige. "I gather it's valuable in this realm, if you would stoop to homicide to attain a slice of it."

Sometimes she truly can't tell if he's messing with her, when he talks like that. The internal lie detector she'd developed as a child to tell when another foster parent or sibling was bullshitting her, then honed as an adult to tell when even worse people were bullshitting her, sometimes gets a little fuzzy around this particular man. (Or she quite possibly gets distracted by his face and the way he tends to stand so close to her. Who’s to say, really.) It's what she would blame, if pressed, for why she left him up on that beanstalk oh so long ago.

(Which is something she is very grateful he has never brought up again.)

It's definitely not the fact that he stands so much farther into her personal bubble than literally anyone else on the planet, or the fact that he watches her with those insanely intense eyes of his, gaze fixed on her in that knowing way like he not only sees her, but he gets her, reads her like a book sitting out and open on a coffee table. It's incredibly unnerving. But what's even more unnerving is how she is finding that the longer she knows him, the less she really seems to mind.

Sometimes, she feels like he stepped straight out of a Jane Austen novel, when he talks like that, and she can't tell if he's hamming it up on purpose. She's very well aware he's not from this time, or realm, or whatever. She never actually forgets that—how could she?—but she almost forgets, sometimes. Until moments like now, when he's staring at her like a quizzical puppy. A puppy who apparently doesn't know what pizza is.

There's a little bit of beer foam on his upper lip, caught in his mustache, which she's always noticed is just a little darker, just a little more pronounced than the rest of the stubble dusting his jawline. She's wondered before if that's where the silly mustache comes from, on the cartoon version of Captain Hook from the Peter Pan cartoon. (Not that Emma has spent an inordinate amount of time admiring the artfulness of his facial hair, God no. And there's definitely no intrusive thoughts of licking said beer foam off his upper lip, no, definitely not. That's never happened to her before and it's definitely not happening now.)

All she'd said, grumbled beneath her breath as she stared at the menu she had memorized, was that she'd kill for a decent slice of pizza right about now. A perfectly normal bit of hyperbole.

His bright eyes dance, trained on her as they so often are, but the hint of a smirk pushing at his lips is masked by his mug as he takes a sip of his beer. He licks his lip, and just like that, the foam is gone, and takes with it the distraction it was causing her.

"Wait, hold on, back up,” she says, as if finally registering the words he’d actually said. “You've seriously never had pizza before?" She's not sure why it surprises her, really. Nothing should surprise her by now. But pizza? Come on. Everybody’s had pizza.

He just raises his eyebrows at her. "It's some form of food, I gather?"

She huffs a little laugh. "Yes, it's food."

It's at that moment that Henry reappears from his trip to the bathroom and slides in next to her. Something in her heart clicks back into place as he tucks in next to her. "What's food? Did you order something yet? I'm starving."

"You heard the lad," Hook says, and something in Emma's heart tugs like a bite on a fishing line at the way his eyes soften as he looks at her son. "What will it be, Swan? This pizza that has you so up in arms and calling for blood?" He says "pizza" like he's trying the word out, two distinct syllables that sound foreign to him.

Henry just blinks up at him, and Emma explains, "He's never had pizza before."

Her son's eyes bug out in unfiltered shock. "What?"

"I know," Emma says, in a what-can-you-do sort of tone, as she reaches across and snags Hook's mug of beer from him. She can feel him watching her, and she pointedly does not look back at him as she takes a sip from it. The home brew is thick, and hoppy, and.... Emma smacks her lips a few times. "That's actually... not bad."

Hook shrugs with one shoulder. "I've certainly had worse."

"I've never seen you drink something that wasn't out of your flask," she comments wryly.

With one fluid motion, he reaches across their table and steals his mug back from her, taking another sip. Kissing, her brain blurts out for thankfully only her to hear. Share a drink and it's like you're kissing was the old playground tease from her childhood. Eagerly and yet very unhelpfully, her brain then supplies her with an image of the first time she'd kissed this particular man, in a hot, sweaty, evil magic jungle, and something low in her stomach bursts open like a big, hot balloon. Get it together, Swan, she chides herself.

Thankfully, Hook doesn't seem to notice that she's having an internal error of some kind, and simply says, "Contrary to popular opinion, Swan, I'm actually a fairly well traveled and well rounded individual with many refined tastes."

"If you say so.” She finds herself leaning a little closer to him as his foot bumps hers beneath the table.

"But you've never had pizza before?" Henry asks, still so very very confused about how on earth someone can just go about life never having eaten his favorite food before. Stumped, Killian just stares at the boy, frowning slightly. Emma comes in for the save.

"Well, then, let's change that tonight, shall we?" she says, with a can-do attitude rivaling that of her mother. "That settles it. Let's order a pizza." Her flicks to Hook. "Unless you had other plans for dinner?"

"I am at your beck and call tonight, my lady," he says, and though the innuendo in his tone is only mildly implied for the sake of her son sitting across from him, Emma still can't help but roll her eyes.

"Can we get fries?" Henry asks hopefully, and Emma can't help but smile at him.

"I was thinking onion rings. But sure, kid. Fries it is."

"Get both," Hook suggests casually. "Dinner's on me."

"No, it's fine," Emma insists, "I got it."

"It makes no difference to me, love."

"Do you even have money?" She's never stopped to think about it before, how he's getting around, how he's been paying for a room here or what he's been using to buy food. It's such an obvious question, and yet she's never thought to ask him.

"You have no idea what the exchange rate is for gold in this town," he says simply, as he takes another sip of his beer, and she raises her brows at him.

"Okay, well, that's a question for later," she says. "Good to know." A better sheriff would look into that further, all the presumably stolen gold and other treasures he has in his possession, and the people in town so willing to turn a blind eye and take it as payment, but it's literally the least pressing problem in her life at this point. It's not even a problem; she has no way to prove he's stolen anything, and even if she did, she finds she just doesn't care. The fact that he has any number of gold pieces and random treasures on him at any given point in time with which to pay for goods and services is… oddly endearing.

But, she probably should pay for her own dinner. Otherwise, he might get the wrong idea about what this dinner is. "I've got it," she says again, a finality in her voice with which he decides not to argue further.

"If the lady insists."

Henry, bored of their conversation, has been staring down at the laminated menu in front of him. "What do you like on your pizza, Killian? Well, I guess you wouldn't know that. What do you think you'd like on it? Pepperoni, bacon, Canadian bacon–which is just ham–mushrooms, extra cheese--" he rattles on a list of all the available toppings, still staring at his menu, and completely misses the look that comes over Hook's face when Henry uses his given name. Emma, blessedly, had looked over at him at just the right moment, just when Henry had said "Killian", and beheld for herself the way Hook's whole face had softened.

"Pardon?" Killian says, clearly confused. "I'm still not quite sure what it is we're ordering."

"All right, Henry, help the poor guy out," Emma says. "Define pizza. Go.”

Henry shakes his head, incredulous as he stares at Hook. "Wow. You're like, Amish or something."

At that, Emma can't help the laugh that bursts out of her. Killian Jones could not possibly be further from an Amish person if he tried. For his part, Hook just frowns, mouths Amish? to himself.

"Okay," Henry goes on, "You have the crust, which is basically like bread." He holds out a hand horizontally, then stacks his other hand on top of it, alternating them with each layer he describes. "Then the sauce. Then a bunch of cheese, melted. Then whatever you want on top. Mom and I usually get the supreme, no green peppers, extra bacon, extra mushrooms. But we can get whatever you want. What do you like?"

Killian just looks at him, flabbergasted. "Supreme is fine, I'm sure," he finally says. Emma would feel a little bad for him if this wasn't so damn funny.

"Cool." Henry snaps his menu shut and sets it aside before turning back to his mother. "Can I get a milkshake?"

"Definitely not," Emma says. "You had that donut at the station earlier, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Henry mumbles, disappointed.

It doesn't matter though, because when it comes to her son and sugar, no one in this town seems to listen to her. Ruby automatically brings out a hot chocolate with cinnamon on top and sets it in front of Henry without even asking permission. "Sorry," she says off Emma's look, sounding distinctly not sorry, "On the house. Granny insisted."

"Thanks," Emma says wryly, sounding distinctly not thankful.

"How's the beer?" Ruby asks Killian, who smiles up at her politely.

"Very good. My hat's off to whichever dwarf concocted it."

"That would be Bashful. Though he's too shy to take credit for it."

"I imagine so," Killian says with a smirk.

"Dwarf?" Henry asks, confused.

Crap, Emma thinks, and tries to think on her feet, "Uh, the mining crew in town gave each other funny nicknames. Right, Ruby?" She shoots Killian a look, and he has the good sense to look abashed at his slip up.

Ruby's eyes are wide, as if she also completely forgot they were supposed to be a completely normal town in front of Henry. "Right! They're funny that way. Anyway, I'll tell him you liked it. And I'll tell Granny to keep it on tap." She pulls out an order pad from the half apron at her waist. "What'll it be, folks?"

"Well," Emma starts, "Killian's never tried pizza before..."

"So we're going to change his life tonight," Henry finishes for her.

Ruby, expectedly, shares in their shock. "Never had pizza?" She stares down at the pirate like he's suddenly grown an extra head. "What are you, lactose intolerant or something?"

"Excuse me?" Hook asks, as the mountain of his confusion just continues to grow ever taller.

"He's just not from around here," Emma reminds Ruby pointedly, and a look of understanding washes over her.

"Ah, right," Ruby says, "I forgot. Okay, yeah, let's change a life tonight! Pizza it is. What'll you have on it?"

"Supreme is fine," Emma says, and Henry pipes up to add, "No green peppers, please. Extra mushrooms and bacon.” Ruby writes it down, along with the side orders, and promises to be back soon with a batch of fresh onion rings for the table.

A comfortable silence befalls them. Killian seems relaxed, Emma notices, as he lounges against the wall, and she's surprised to find herself settling comfortably into the booth, as well. This is... nice. They haven't really had a chance to do this, her and Henry, and just hang out with someone else from her life. She's had to dance around so many things with her son, dodge so many questions, hide things and explain (read: lie) things away, with his memories gone. It's been exhausting, frankly. But, since he already knows Killian, spent an entire road trip from New York to Maine in a small car with him, this has felt fairly easy. And Henry seems to like Hook. A lot.

But Emma should have known that this was going too well.

"So, Killian," Henry says after a minute, having sampled his hot chocolate and found it satisfactory. "You're not from around here?" Emma's chest clenches in anxiety at whatever he's about to ask next. Please don't ask him how he lost his hand, Emma begs from behind the bars of her brain. She's not sure she can handle the amount of ducking and weaving THAT particular conversation would take.

“That’s right,” Killian hedges, eying Henry closely, though he still looks completely at ease and prepared for whatever might possibly fall out of her son’s mouth next.

“Are you from Great Britain? Like, England?”

It’s almost imperceptible, the way Hook’s gaze darts to Emma before he takes another swig of his beer, and she steps in with an answer.

“Uh, yeah,” Emma says, affecting a tone that makes her sound semi-sure but also looking to Killian for clarification, “London, right?”

He takes the answer she hands him on a silver platter and nods easily. “That’s right. What gave me away?”

Henry rolls his eyes, but any rudeness behind the gesture is dissipated with the smirk he attaches to it. “Uh, the accent, mostly.”

“Ah,” Killian says with a wink. “Well, guilty as charged.”

Emma’s not sure if they even have a version of London in the Enchanted Forest, or whatever part of that realm Killian is actually from. She vaguely remembers the Peter Pan film being set in London—probably?—but that’s about it.

There’s a little wooden peg game hiding behind the napkin dispenser on their table, pressed up against the wall. One of those little pieces of wood with holes drilled into it, with little pegs you’re supposed to jump over each other until there is only one left. Emma knows for a fact that each of the booths has one, and that they were each hand carved by Marco. Henry watches as Hook toys with it, jumps a few pegs over each other, and Emma’s heart gives a little squeeze as Henry asks, “Do you know how to play that?”

Learning to play that simple, weirdly addictive little game was one of the staples of their Granny’s dates, in the first year she lived in Storybrooke. Every time they would sit and eat together, without fail, Henry would pull out the little piece of wood from behind the napkin dispenser and move the little pegs around. Emma caught herself doing it a few times, too, even when Henry wasn’t with her. Just stabbing the little golf tee picks into their tiny holes while she waited for her food. It was weirdly satisfying and oddly addicting.

And now Henry has forgotten it.

For all the memories they share of their “pretty good” life back in the big city, she knows there are a dozen more here, in this quiet, strange, terrifying little town. And while she wouldn’t trade that year she had with just her and Henry for anything in the world, she can’t help but grieve the loss of the memories she made with him here, in Storybrooke.

Hook’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts. “Aye. Want me to teach you?”

Of course he knows how to play the silly little peg game. She watches as he explains, simply, the right strategy to win in the fewest moves. Hook slides the piece of wood over to Henry, who takes it and flips it around, eager to try for himself.

Perhaps emboldened by the fact that he doesn’t have to look at Hook when he asks, and can instead stare down at the little wooden pegs, Henry asks, as casually as possible, “So, how’d you lose your hand?”

“Henry,” Emma starts. She can’t help the sound of a scold that wraps around her tone.

“It’s fine,” Killian says easily, though this time he doesn’t look at Emma to give an answer for him. His left arm had been relaxing across his lap; he shifts, and brings his forearm up to rest on the table. For the most part, he had taken to wearing his prosthetic hand around Henry, in lieu of the hook. Emma and her son both can’t help but stare at it as Killian rests it on the table.

If she’s honest, Emma misses the hook. If she’s honest, she never really actually thinks of Hook as an amputee. She’s seen him make a few creative alterations to movements more able-bodied people would traditionally use two hands for, sure. Using his teeth to pull a cork from its bottle, or to sexily tie a scarf around her bleeding hand, for one.

She knows he’s missing a hand. Logically, she knows this. She called him “Hook” 99.9% of the time, until she had to stop when Henry was around. It rolled off her tongue so easily, and several times, she’s had to stop herself from blurting it out in front of Henry. But it’s almost as if half the time it doesn’t even register in her brain that there are some things he can’t do as easily or as quickly as other people.

Now, as she stares down at the leather-wrapped prosthetic on the table in front of her, she finds herself missing the namesake to his more colorful moniker. To her utter horror, when she realizes she’s been very obviously staring, she glances up at Hook’s face, and she finds he’s been watching her for a while now. Emma feels heat pool in her cheeks instantly, and she leans back. But graciously, Killian only smiles softly at her, seeming, yet again, to read her thoughts easily. As if he knows she misses the hook. The bastard has the audacity to wink at her.

Oblivious to the unspoken conversation happening right beside him between his mom and the strange man across from him, Henry pipes up, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to.” He sounds nervous, like he realizes the gravity of his social blunder and suddenly wants to give Killian an out. “Really. I… I’m sorry I asked.” He shoots an apologetic look to Emma, who tries her best to look stern.

There’s a moment of silence that stretches out between them where Emma genuinely doesn’t know what Hook is going to say next. So many directions this conversation could go, so many versions of the truth, the unbelievable truth, that he could go with. Emma is very aware that she’s holding her breath, but she can’t seem to let it go until Killian says something. It’s the one thing in this moment she feels like she has control over.

“Truth be told, lad,” Killian finally says on the end of a sigh, “It happened so long ago, I hardly remember what it’s like having two hands.”

Emma releases the air she’d been holding captive in her lungs, and in place of the tightness in her airway comes a little pang in her heart. She knows this story, but she’s never asked him about this story. They’ve never talked about that moment, just the two of them, when Milah was murdered right in front of him, and then he had his hand cut off. It’s horrible, truly. She takes the horror of it for granted, and she suddenly very much does not want Henry to hear this story, even in whatever veiled shape Hook wants to tell it. It’s Killian’s story, his hand that was lost, and it’s his right to tell Henry whatever he wants about it. Emma’s heart grieves for this man before her and the tremendous losses that have shaped him. But she does not want her son to hear this story. She’s not even sure she wants to hear this story.

Life has softened Emma too much, she fears, because while she imagines herself as being quite tough and immune to the awfulness of the world, she knows these feelings are showing quite clearly on her face and in her eyes, which are shining just a little brighter as she watches Hook. He looks up abruptly, meeting her gaze, and her heart leaps like she’s just been jump scared.

“So you were just a kid when it happened?” Henry asks, and Hook huffs out a little laugh through his nose.

“Not exactly, no.”

Henry frowns. “I don’t understand.”

Emma doesn’t envy either of them in this moment, but she especially does not envy Hook, whom she watches with nothing but sympathy.

And in the end, Hook goes for the blunt, almost-truth of the matter. “Lost it to a Crocodile.” When he looks up at Henry, it’s with a smirk playing across his features. One that Emma sees right through.

Henry’s mouth falls open in shock, like that was literally the last thing he was expecting Killian to say. “No way! Seriously? A crocodile bit your hand off?”

Even Hook can’t disguise the smile—a genuine one, this time—that comes over his face at Henry’s utter, boyish exuberance at this answer. Emma’s heart swells an extra size, watching them. Of course Henry would think that was awesome, the idea of someone’s hand getting bitten off by what is essentially a modern-day dinosaur. “Aye,” Hook says, shooting Emma a knowing glance. “As I said, I lost my hand to a Crocodile.”

“What, like in Australia or something?” Henry asks.

“Something like that.”

The beauty of this moment is that Hook doesn’t even really have to lie to Henry. He seemingly doesn’t have to do anything more than slightly bend the truth; Henry’s too amped up to even listen to the full answers to his questions, and Killian can continue to dole out the most vague answers on the planet.

“Did you live there?” Henry asks. “When you were a kid?”

“Lad, I’ve lived in and seen more places than I care to count,” Hook says, with a gleam in his eyes, “And none of them, I assure you, are more interesting and alluring than this very town.”

Emma doesn’t imagine his gaze flitting over to her when he says the word “alluring”. She knows she doesn’t. And yet, he’s so quick about it, keeping his focus entirely on her son, that she can’t be sure.

“Really?” Henry asks, dubious. “This town? Storybrooke?”

“Aye,” Killian says, “I promise you, my boy. There’s more to this place than meets the eye. You just have to be willing to see, for yourself.”

It’s the kind of answer an old, wizened Santa Claus would tell a kid in a Christmas movie about a town that was secretly the North Pole or something. It’s probably the corniest thing she’s ever heard him say that wasn’t a pickup line. And yet, Emma is surprised to find warmth prick her eyes at his attempt to make Henry feel more at home here, more interested in this town that her city boy son has written off entirely as Boringville, USA. And she gets that—she really does. She didn’t exactly think Storybrooke was hip-hop and happenin’ when she first rolled into town, either.

Then again, she also didn’t think it was full of fairytale characters. Literal royalty from another realm. Evil queens with magic. Humanoid crickets, for God’s sake. Henry’s family is here. Whether he knows it or not, everyone in this town knows him, and so many of those people love him, would die for him in a heartbeat. And while she can’t pretend she isn’t ready to take him back to New York City the second this is all over, it hurts her heart that he doesn’t even remember those people.

All talk of special towns and missing hands cease, however, as Ruby returns and sets a massive, loaded pizza in front of them.

Emma has the satisfaction of watching Hook’s eyes go wide. And whatever she expected him to say, it isn’t the ineloquent, “Whoa,” that falls from his mouth. Emma and Ruby both can’t help but laugh at him.

“Looks pretty great, huh?” Henry says, already grabbing himself a plate and eying the slice he wants.

“One life-changing pizza, as ordered!” Ruby says with a grin. “Prepare to be dazzled, Captain.”

Henry looks over at Emma, mouthing Captain?

“Navy,” Emma whispers, thinking quick on her feet. Henry shrugs and starts piling his plate up with pizza. He carefully positions his chosen slices to make room for the fries that Ruby sets in front of him.

“There we go, folks,” Ruby says, leaning back with her hand on her hip to inspect the table. “Anything else we need? Refill on that beer, Killian?”

Emma gives a mental tip of her hat to Ruby for how easily the name Killian rolls off her tongue, like she’s said it a thousand times. Hook, for his part, looks momentarily taken aback that she even knows his given name. “Uh, yes,” he says, “Sure, I’ll take another.”

It’s a true delight, Emma finds, to see one of the most eloquent, loquacious people she knows (next to Gold, probably, which is a noticed similarity she will not be sharing with Hook) so continuously dumbfounded. It brings her great joy, actually, to keep seeing him rendered speechless by such average things.

“Sure thing.” Ruby nods and reaches over to snatch up his empty mug. “Coming right up.”

Ruby leaves, and Emma shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. A werewolf, giving a refill to a pirate of a beer that was illegally home brewed by a dwarf. What even is her life anymore? These are the things she didn’t even know she was missing in New York. Not for the first time, there’s a pang in her heart as she wishes she could share in the joke with Henry. She looks over at her son, watches him squirt ketchup over his fries like he’s trying to torture information out of them. Something of these thoughts must show on her face, because after a moment, she feels a little bump on the toe of her boot. When she looks up, Killian is looking at her, his expression soft, and he offers her a small smile.

It’ll be all right, Swan, his eyes seem to say, and she feels herself relax a fraction. She smiles back at him, thankful.

Whatever moment that’s happening between them is interrupted by Henry. “Killian,” he says, though the name is turned to absolute mush by the food in his mouth, “Pizza!”

“Good Lord,” Emma says, shaking her head at him, “Who raised you, kid? Don’t talk with your mouth so full.”

Henry takes a few gulps from his Sprite, swallowing it all down. “Ah, sorry. I said, ‘Killian, pizza.’”

Hook, for his part, looks thoroughly amused. “Yes, lad, I’d gathered that.” He looks down at their gigantic round entree with what can only be described as suspicion. “Do I just dig in then? No forks with you savages?”

Emma huffs a laugh. “Only weirdos eat pizza with a fork.” Though, as she watches Henry hang onto a particularly large piece with two hands, she adds, “Unless that’s easier for you. Then be as weird as you want.”

Killian waves off any concern on her part with a flick of his hand. “When in Storybrooke, eat as the Storybrookians do and all that.” He slips a slice of pizza off the stand, letting it fall onto a plate with an audible plop, which he frowns down at.

“Storybrookians?” Emma laughs. “No way. There’s got to be something better than that out there.”

Hook shrugs, quirking a brow at her. “I’ll have to check with the mayor.”

“She’s nice,” Henry pipes up, mouth blessedly less full this time. “She took me out for ice cream.”

Emma and Hook, for what feels like the thousandth time this evening, swap glances. Henry, too engrossed in his pizza, doesn’t seem to notice. Moments later, when Ruby returns with Killian’s beer, being the spectacular mind reader she apparently is, she also comes bearing another Sprite for Henry and a second iced tea for Emma.

“You’re amazing,” Emma tells her.

“I know,” Ruby responds with a wink. “I’ll come check on you guys in a bit. If you need anything, just give a whistle.” She turns on her heel and heads back toward the kitchen, leaving them alone with their life-changing pizza.

“All right,” Emma says, and her tone sings time’s up, buddy. “Eat up or shut up.”

Killian chuckles, shaking his head at her. “That the saying, is it?”

“Yup,” Emma says, popping the “P” on the end. “Sure is. Pizza time. Time to really become a man of the times.” Hook eyes the loaded slice of pizza on his plate skeptically, and Emma thinks of young Simba right before he tried a grub for the first time. “Hakuna matata, pal.”

Henry, immediately getting the reference, laughs loudly at her side, and Emma beams. Hook looks between the two of them, once again a confused, eyeliner-wearing puppy. The poor man shakes his head, as if he’s just completely done trying to understand everything they say, and as they continue to snicker at his expense, he reaches down, scoops up his slice of pizza with his hand, and takes a bite of it. The thing is so loaded up with toppings that a few black olives abandon ship and fall back down to the plate with a soft tink.

They both watch him expectantly. Hook, being the good sport he is, lets them stare at them while he eats. He swallows, then washes the rest of it down with a swig of beer.

Emma and Henry give him a solid three seconds before they say, simultaneously, “Well?”

“I’ve certainly had worse, by way of sustenance.” Hook says, shrugging, and they both groan.

“Are you kidding me?” Emma says. “You try pizza for the first time and that’s all you have to say about it? You’ve had better?”

“I believe what I said was that I’ve had worse food, Swan,” Hook clarifies, pointing at her with the prosthetic hand, “Which is a compliment.”

“In what realm is that a compliment?”

“He’s right,” comes Henry’s sigh. “This pizza is mid at best.”

Mid? Killian mouths to Emma. She shrugs, for once just as lost as he is.

“The pizza back in New York is way better,” Henry says, and Emma can’t argue with that.

“He’s right. New York City does pizza like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Yeah,” Henry says, “Remember the cart guy by our apartment that would sell it by the slice?”

“Yes!” Emma cries. “Pizza Phil!”

“You bought pizza from a man in a cart?” Killian asks, looking truly befuddled, clearly envisioning some kind of horse and buggy roadside pizza situation in the congested streets of New York City.

“Not that kind of cart,” Emma clarifies with a smile. “Like a little… stand, I guess. He’d make it there, in this brick oven on wheels thing he had, and then he’d just sell it by the slice.”

“It was awesome,” Henry says emphatically. “Best pizza in town. Sometimes Mom would let me have it for breakfast on our way to school.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma says wryly, “Those weren’t exactly my best mothering moments. Sometimes we overslept, and pizza for breakfast it was.”

“I disagree,” Henry says around his straw, as he finishes off the last of his second Sprite. Another not great mothering moment, Emma thinks to herself. But tonight is a special night. Henry goes on, “I think those were actually your best mothering moments.”

“And this cart man’s pizza was better?” Hook asks, slowly, making a very valiant effort to keep up with them. “Back in New York City?”

“New York pizza has a thinner crust,” Emma explains. “So you get more of the cheese and toppings. It’s pretty great.”

“The best,” Henry asserts. “I wish we could have had you try it before we came here.” There’s something wistful in his tone that hurts Emma’s heart. She knows full well the bagels, pizza, and honestly food in general in Storybrooke leave much to be desired, and that her son misses the big city. She wants to make it up to him, somehow. He’s been so patient with her, through all this, and so trusting, and her heart swells with affection for him.

“Alas,” Hook says, with a wry look to Emma, “My experience with New York City cuisine leaves much to be desired.” Vaguely, she remembers something about barbaric brigs and being force fed something called bologna. She shakes her head at him, though she doesn’t even bother trying to hide her laughter.

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma says with a roll of her eyes. “All right, so we’re not as well-traveled as you are. Sue us. We’re simple folk. We like our pizza.”

“And I will not begrudge you for that, Swan.”

“Are there any other pizza places in town?” Henry pipes up.

“I don’t… actually know,” Emma says, glancing at Hook, who shrugs.

“We should definitely find out,” Henry says. “We gotta try everything this town has to offer while we’re here, and compare it to back home.”

Emma’s heart squeezes. She can feel Killian’s eyes on her, but she knows if she looks at him, she’s going to lose the battle against the tears suddenly pricking her eyes. Her voice is a little husky when she answers with, “Yeah, kid. Sure thing.”

“You’ll come with us?” Henry asks, looking to Hook. “Be brave again, try some more pizza?”

Hook chuckles lowly, but nods and says, “I think I can be brave, Henry."

“Good,” Henry says, and the grin that lights up her son’s face makes Emma’s breath catch in her throat. He has the best smile, and she hasn’t seen it enough lately.

They finish their pizza, or as much of it as they can eat, with Henry making the biggest dent. Hook, brave as he is, finishes his slice, and then dares to go for a second, which Emma counts as a win. She doesn’t keep Henry up too late, but they stay late into the evening, much later than Emma had originally intended when she took her son to Granny’s for a hot chocolate and offered to buy Hook a beer.

And for the first time in a long time, with wicked green witches, curses, her son’s missing memories, and flying monkeys abounding, a peace settles into Emma’s heart. And for the first time in a long time, at least for this moment, she truly feels like everything really is going to be okay.

#captain swan #csss2024 #captain swan secret santa 2024 #cs ff #captain swan fanfic #captain swan fanfiction #emma swan #killian jones #henry mills #captain cobra #IDK what else to tag this #PIZZA

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keep-the-wolves-close · 10 months ago

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Movin’ Mountains

Chapter 1: cowboy take me away

* Pairing: Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, healing, dealing with some post trauma, fairly tame tbh

* Word count: 4,198ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant and @lexixstewart for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: Hey everyone! We’re back at it again at the Krispy Kreme ✌🏻😝 (💀 I cannot believe I just did that along with a vine reference lmao.) (Please don't run in the other direction lol.)

Welcome to the continuation of Steady Heart! Thank you for coming along and continuing the journey with me! Here we are at the beginning of season 3! I can’t wait to see what lies ahead for our favorite, as Rip calls them, “merry band of misfits”. I hope everyone enjoys our soft start into the season, and the adventure ahead!

The door to the foreman’s lodge opened. It pulled Stella’s attention from the book she was reading, her heart dropped and her hand fell to her gun. She'd been jumpy ever since the night she got attacked. She glanced up and saw it was Kayce who greeted her from the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled softly to avoid pulling the gash on her face and folded her book closed, placing it on the coffee table.

“Hey, you.” She welcomed and started to stiffly rise from the couch to be gentle on her ribs, but Kayce met her at the couch stopping her motion.

He bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “Hey back.”

She closed her eyes and hummed. “I still gotta get used to that.”

Kayce chuckled and sat next to her. “Me too. How’re you feelin’ today?” He gave a quick glance at her pistol.

Stella leaned back into the couch slow and steady and crossed him with a look of her own to stop any argument about being skittish. “I think I’m alright.”

“You think?” He placed his arm behind her on the back of the couch.

“Well I mean my ribs are probably gonna hurt for a while no matter how healed they are. My bruises don’t hurt anymore though.”

“What about,” he motioned to his eyebrow.

She grabbed the side of her bottom lip between her teeth and contemplated the change to her face. “I just gotta be careful to not stretch the skin too much, which is ass.” She laughed. “I never realized how much I actually used my eyebrows.”

“I coulda told you that, sugar.”

She flattened her face and gave him a side-eye. “Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” she quipped sarcastically. “Anyway, how’s Tate?”

Kayce blew out a heavy breath. “He’s okay, sleeping a little better, but still waking up scared.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I understand being scared at the moment.”

Kayce stared down at her in the crook of his arm and shook his head. Of course she was worried about everyone but herself. “No, Monica is still with him. When she isn’t, I am.”

“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be good for him to see me still so busted up right now. It would do more harm than good. How’s Monica?”

“Very happy that our son is alive. Grateful to you for trying to stop them.”

“I wish he would have kept running to the big house.” Stella placed her head back against Kayce’s arm and closed her eyes. She had to turn her brain off from thinking about everything she should have done versus what she did. It wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I’m still exhausted from all that mess.”

“I don’t doubt you are, but him coming back might have been the only thing that saved you.”

“I still wish he wouldn’t have come back. I would have been fine, eventually, and he wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped.”

“We’ll make it through, Stell. I’m just glad you both are still here.” Kayce draped his hand on her shoulder.

For a few moments, Stella pretended like everything was okay, that she and Kayce just got back from a long day. It was peaceful in his presence. She was grateful that he and Ryan found her when they did. She shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if she went untreated for longer. She opened her eyes thinking about her brother. “Oh, Ryan told me you guys are building a new barn further out?”

“When we’re out in the farther pastures, it would be nice to have a spot to go to that has extra supplies and things.” He faced her. “Speaking of which, we’re settin' up a spike camp until July.”

“Why?”

“Rip and I wanna be sure the clover isn’t gonna come back. We checked the fields this mornin’, and it didn’t look like there was any growing back, but we can’t be too careful. So we’re gonna babysit the herd. You wanna come with us?” He knew she would love the change of pace. He decided to not mention Tate coming along just yet. He didn’t want her to worry about him seeing her.

“I would be kinda useless for a little while yet. I shouldn’t even technically ride, as much as that fact pisses me off.”

“I’m not bringin’ ya up there to work, Stell. I just want you to have a change of scenery. But if you get to feelin’ right, you’re more than welcome to join the guys.” Kayce cringed. “If your brother doesn’t have a heart attack about it.”

She smiled at him. “C’mere.” He scooted closer for her. She leaned into him and whispered, “thank you,” on his lips as she kissed him.

Kayce carefully leaned his forehead against Stella’s. “I should go back up to the main house to be with Tate, but either myself or your brother will come get you in the mornin’.”

Stella nodded and stiffly stood with him. “What time?”

“Early. Probably 4:30 quarter of five.”

She groaned, “ugh, fuckin’ ranch hours,” and followed him to the door. Reaching out to grab his hand, she pulled him into a hug. “I mean it.” Stella didn’t know how else to say thank you anymore.

He pulled back just enough to gaze affectionately down at her. “You’re welcome, sugar.” He closed the gap and placed a gentle kiss on her lips as she brought her hand to his chest.

There was a groan that sounded behind the couple. “That’s the last thing I needed to see tonight,” Ryan grouched.

Stella faced down at the ground, with her eyes closed. Nervous about being caught so soon. “Hey, Ry.” Her face and neck heated up.

Kayce laced his fingers through hers as he stepped back, avoiding Ryan’s gaze. “I’m gonna go let Monica have a break.”

“See ya later, cowboy.” Their fingers squeezed each other and then slipped apart as he stepped away.

While Kayce walked off, the siblings stared at one another. Both of them had their lips pressed together and arms crossed. Stella’s face felt like it was on the sun with how red it must have been. The pair dissolved into laughter.

Stella cleared her throat. “You wanna come in?”

“It doesn’t smell like sex in there, does it?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Oh my fuckin’ god, Ryan. No.”

Ryan nodded and stepped up to the door, trailing behind his sister. He watched while she made her way to the refrigerator.

“You want anything to drink?” She grabbed a Sprite from the fridge.

He stepped up to a kitchen chair, pulling it out and taking a seat. “Nah, we’re gonna be drinking later. I just wanted to check on you for the night before we did.” He took notice of her gun on her hip, but made no mention of it. He’d been keeping an eye on her, everyone had, especially with how edgy she’d been.

She cracked open her soda and leaned back against the sink to face Ryan. “I’m doing alright for the most part. Just starting to get bored,” she complained as she took a sip of her soda. “Very bored,” she sighed.

“I understand, but we need you 100%. Don’t need you hurting yourself more.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbled. Just because it was true didn’t make it suck any less. “Kayce invited me to come to the spike camp with y’all.”

Her brother's eyebrows shot up. “Oh he did, did he?”

“Yeah. Figured I would like a change of scenery. Which I would. Very much.” Stella stared at him, hoping to make her point. “Also, most likely so both you and himself could still keep an eye on me and keep me out of trouble.” She grinned.

Ryan leaned in the chair and propped his elbow on the backrest. “It’s irritating how smart he is.”

Her grin widened. “You’re just mad he thought of it first. He’s always been that smart.” She sat her soda on the counter and crossed her arms. “Is it okay if I go? I don’t wanna be stuck here by myself.”

“You wouldn’t be by yourself.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But I wanna be with you and Kayce because y’all don’t treat me like I’m fragile like everyone else has been.”

“As long as you follow through with not working.” He fixed her with a look.

“Okay, okay.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I promise. I’ll sit with John and give everyone shit.” She smiled. “Now you go have fun. I’ll see y’all in the mornin’.”

Stella wandered around the foreman’s lodge aimlessly. She thought about going to hang out with the wranglers while they cut up, but she didn’t have the energy to be around the rambunctious bunch. She loved them, but she needed quiet. Reaching to grab her soda, she made her way to the little front porch area of the lodge. As she strode across the room, she made sure her gun was still on her hip.

She dropped into the single chair and fixed her glasses. Her feet swung up to cross at the ankles on the small table in front of her. The fizzy carbonation of her soda tickled her nose as she took a swig and swallowed. Stella surveyed the landscape carefully.

She could see the round pen, the cow pen, the barn, and the bunkhouse from where she sat. The lights were on in the house, so that gave her some comfort that her brother was close by if she needed him.

A breath pushed past Stella’s lips as she forced herself to calm down. The guys who were responsible for kidnapping Tate and beating the shit out of her were taken care of. She had to convince herself no one was going to sneak up on her.

“Everything is okay. We’re okay. We’re alive. Just breathe. You’re safe.” Stella encouraged herself, taking a few deep breaths in between her affirmations.

She’d been telling herself that a lot lately. That’s why her gun was glued to her hip. She had made the grave mistake of being caught without it, and it almost cost her her life. Stella vowed to never get found without it again.

The sounds of the ranch made her startle every once and a while, but eventually she settled and allowed herself to relax back in the chair. The thought of Rip probably wandering around somewhere nearby like a prowling bear made her fully sit back. Yes Kayce and her brother were nearby, but Rip was closer. She knew he wouldn’t be done with making sure everything was closed up for the night yet.

The longer she sat there, the calmer she became and the sounds of the ranch finally convinced her eyes to shut. Stella could still hear the horses in the pasture nearby, and the settling of the farm equipment, so she wasn’t fully asleep. It was a catnap state. She hadn’t been getting the fittest sleep since she came home from the hospital, so whatever rest her body would allow, she’d take it.

The crunch of the gravel that led up to the foreman’s lodge in between the stepping stones, startled Stella awake. “Stella-belle?” A gravelly voice intoned softly from her side. A warm calloused hand draped around her forearm and her eyes shot open. Without thought, she whipped her arm out to the side and hit the offender away from her. She scrambled to stand and back away from the intruder. Her hand dropped to her holster.

Rip stood back quickly and held his hands out like he would to a frightened horse. “Woah woah! Stella it’s me!”

Her eyes focused and her brain finally came out of its sleepy haze. “Oh my fucking god,” she wheezed out. From her quick movements her ribs smarted at her angrily. She moved her hand to her right side and hissed at the pain.

Rip wanted to help her, but knew she didn’t like being touched when she was in pain. He felt helpless as he watched her pant, trying to get her breath back. She paced back and forth, regulating her way through the discomfort. Slowly, it backed down to a throbbing versus a stabbing sting.

“Damn, Wheelie.”

“I’m sorry. I should have made more noise.”

Stella pursed her lips. She knew he didn’t mean to do it, and her anger was misplaced because of the pain of her own doing. She shouldn’t take it out on him. “It’s alright. What’s up?”

“I just got done laying into the wranglers because their asses are still awake and we got shit to do this morning. I saw you out here and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I actually fell asleep after a while.” She yawned and scratched her head. “What time is it?”

“3:45. You should head to an actual bed, Stella-belle.”

“I should probably just stay up and get packed.”

Rip frowned. “Packed?” He pushed open the lodge door and motioned her inside. “For what?”

Stella grabbed her empty soda bottle and followed his direction, stepping into the house. She tossed the bottle into the little recycling bin next to the fridge. “I’m going to the spike camp with ya.” She smirked over her shoulder while she went to grab one of Kayce’s duffelbags.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me. And my brother and Kayce agreed. So I’m coming with y’all.” Stella opened Kayce’s closet and made a small “ha,” when she found the medium-sized bag on the floor. Heavy boots hit the ground behind her and she spun around to face the angry bear of a man she’d become so fond of.

She grinned up at him. “I already promised that I would sit with John and give everyone shit while y’all worked.”

The corners of Rip’s mouth turned further downward in a frown. “Stella…,” he let her name hang in the air.

“Riiip,” she dragged out his small name. Stella gently weaved around him to the dresser Kayce was letting her use for her clothes. Rip sighed behind her and she ignored him. She went about pulling out her clothes for at least a week, more than sure she’d have to come back down and get more. She decided she would cross that bridge when she got there.

“You love running us ragged, don’t you?”

Stella placed the pile of clothes she had in her hand in the bag and turned to look at him. His shoulders sagged, he looked exhausted. Not only did he have everything else going on, but he had become her unofficial babysitter. Kayce and Ryan were smart for that because they knew if she didn’t listen to them, she would listen to Rip. Her lips pulled together in an affectionate smile. She adjusted the frames on her nose, opened her arms and waved him over. “C’mere.”

When he didn’t step toward her fast enough, she met him halfway and engulfed him in a hug. “I’m sorry, Rip.” He placed his arms around her shoulders to keep away from her ribs. Stella took as deep a breath as she could and settled into the curve of his arm. “I know you worry and don’t tell anyone. Think of it this way,” she leaned back and Rip slowly let her go. “You’ll have me within eyesight, uninterrupted, unless my brother or Kayce steal me away.”

Stella backed up and brushed her shirt off nervously. “Plus, I need to do something about being this edgy. I think nature will help me reset that.” She shrugged. “Help me trust myself again.”

Rip gave a quick look down at her holster, thankful that she hadn’t pulled it on him outside. He knew she was having a hard time adjusting to being back on the ranch, the same place that the awful event occurred. He’d observed her jump at sounds and people she’d known for years over the last few weeks. It definitely wasn’t like her to spook that easy. He reached out and ruffled her hair quickly. “Alright, you heathen. I suppose that’s a good deal.”

“Hey!” Stella backed away from his hand giggling. “That’s hurtful.”

“Where’s the lie? Can’t be a lie if it’s the truth, now can it?” Rip crossed his arms and leaned back against the door jamb and smirked.

“I am not a heathen, I’m a lady.”

“Bullshit, you and this merry band of misfits are all heathens. You and your brother are at the top of that list.”

Stella clutched at her nonexistent pearls. “Rip Wheeler! I thought you knew me better than that.”

He chuckled deeply. The warmth from seeing her smile spreading throughout his chest, even if it was just for a minute. He stole a glance at the alarm clock he had set up on the bedside table and read that it was pushing on 4:00 am. “Alright, Stella-belle. I’ll leave you be to finish getting ready. Is anyone coming to get you?”

Stella smiled at him, not as wide as she would have liked, but wider than a few weeks ago. “Yeah, my brother or Kayce. Which from the sounds of it, it’ll be me getting him instead.” She huffed out a laugh through her nose. “So I’ll finish up here and see you soon, Wheelie. You go wrangle those boys into shape.” They shared a smirk, as Rip nodded and quietly made his way out of the lodge to agitate the guys.

Stella waited about 20 minutes before she started getting antsy. She knew that Kayce had other things to worry about, he shouldn’t have to worry about being responsible for her too. She hurried into the bedroom, gripped up the duffel bag, and rushed to the door. She slipped on her boots and threw her hair up in a messy bun that looked slept in. Making her way out the door, she made sure her hand gun was on her hip still and her knife on the other and made sure to close the door behind her.

She looked out by the barn and saw everyone mostly ready. Lloyd had been dubbed the driver of the wagon. Tate climbed up into the cart next to the older man and settled himself in. The little boy looked as if he was vibrating with excitement for this new adventure. Stella’s stomach dropped at the thought of him seeing what had happened to her. She didn’t want him to blame himself. Rip was off to the side holding John’s horse, Red, and Tate’s horse, Lucky. She watched as everyone milled about. Ryan worked on setting up Blue Jeans, exhausted, and quite honestly still looked drunk to Stella. Kayce was on top of Tank, making sure everything was ready to go for their ride. Abigail was tacked up next to him. He must have felt her staring at him because when he looked up they locked eyes.

He noticed she had one of his duffelbags slung on her shoulder, and one of his larger flannels overtop of her t-shirt. His eyes twinkled with affection at her display, and he dismounted from Tank, cutting a path directly to her.

Stella met Kayce and welcomed the soft hug he offered. He carefully transferred the bag to his hand from her shoulder and gave it to Jake to put in the wagon. He looked around to make sure no one was gawking, and scanned his gaze back down to Stella, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead to the left of the healing gash. “I was gonna come get you in a few minutes, I was hoping to give you more time to sleep.”

“Well, luckily for you, I’ve been awake since like quarter of four.” She laughed inwardly.

Kayce made a disapproving face. “Did you sleep at all?”

Stella withdrew from the comfort of his hug and sighed. “Yes, Kayce. I did. On the porch ironically enough. Rip already yelled at me,” she smirked over at Rip who’d been listening in this whole time. “Didn’t you?” He dipped his head in confirmation. She turned back to face Kayce. “And I slept pretty well for the first time in a while. I’m ready to rock and roll. Thank you for getting Abs ready for me.”

Her gaze landed on the mare that she’d only been able to walk around, lunge, and pet due to her restrictions recently. She moved over to her and brushed her hand along the roan’s nose softly. “Hey baby. You ready for an adventure?” Abigail blew a sigh into Stella’s hand.

A throat cleared from behind Stella. John came up beside her. “You sure you’re good to go on the trek?”

Stella bobbed her head. “Yessir. I should be right as rain in no time. I’ll be your buddy for giving everyone else hell.” She giggled quietly. “Besides, I gotta get away from here for a while.” They shared a look because John knew exactly what she meant. She almost died not too far from where they were standing. A little vacation would do her well. John nodded to her and stepped back to let her mount up. He didn’t go too far just in case she fell. Kayce took a few steps closer, joining his father if Stella needed a hand.

Stella stepped forward and placed her left foot in her stirrup. She reached for the horn and tried her best to step up into her saddle without showing the mild discomfort it caused. A quiet groan escaped her barely parted lips. She bent forward to pat Abigail’s neck. “See, girl?” Stella huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” The large mare grunted back at her as if to say, ‘not for me, but it was awful for you.’

John spotted Jamie as he trotted up to the group. John instantly moved to give him directions. He had other plans for his son in mind. “Stick that horse back in the barn.” He pointed in the building’s general direction. “Move your gear outta the bunkhouse.”

Jamie halted his horse, and his stomach twisted into knots. “Move it where?”

“The lodge.” John explained simply.

Jamie dismounted, ready for an argument. “Why?”

Stella piped up from on top of Abigail. “Uh, sir? That’s where I’m staying.”

John eyeballed his son for questioning him instead of just going with his plan. “Cause I can’t have the Livestock Commissioner living in the bunkhouse.” Jamie took off his hat and shot his dad a questioning glance. “I’ll make the appointment official tomorrow.” John panned his gaze to Stella and continued. “And I’m moving you up to the big house with Kayce.”

Stella’s jaw dropped so fast it almost came unhinged. The tightness in her chest bubbled as she gave a panicked look to Kayce, who looked just as stunned as her, if not more. “Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, sir?”

“Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you to call me John?” He scolded her. “And god damnit why doesn’t anybody just follow my directions?”

“John, you’d kill over if any of us followed your direction blindly.” Stella’s face flattened as she pointed to Rip. “Even Rip questions you from time to time. You’re pissed about something you taught all of us to do.”

“No, it’s what Kayce has taught you to do.” John grumbled.

“Now c’mon, dad.” Kayce tried to interject, but his dad was having none of it this morning.

He pinned Stella to her spot with a look that dared her to defy him any further. “I’m moving you up to the house with Kayce. Gator will move your things before Jamie gets settled in.” John strode over to Jamie and leaned in close. “And if you betray me again? You’re dead to me son, you understand?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” John pivoted to go get his horse, but Jamie reached out and stopped him. “Dad. I won’t betray you. You have my word.”

“Well,” John cleared his throat. “We’re about to find out what that’s worth.” The air hung heavy between the father and son as John turned back around. Stella shifted in her saddle at the unspoken threat.

The patriarch started doling out orders. “Kayce!” The aforementioned son was stepping up into his saddle. “You and Rip take the wranglers, start pushin’ the herd. We’ll be right behind. Stella, you stay with me and Lloyd.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Rip directed the wranglers.

“Keep an eye on him.” Kayce instructed his dad.

John climbed up onto Red. “You know I will.”

Kayce glanced down at his saddle and tapped the horn. “I’m uh, I’m sorry about the Commission. It’s just not me.”

John rearranged in his saddle. “You’re my son. I know exactly who you are and don’t you ever be sorry for it.” Kayce looked around and walked Tank on. Lloyd and Tate watched as the prodigal son marched away. The little boy stared at Stella with big, sad eyes.

“Are you okay, Aunt Stell?”

Stella took a breath, as deep as she could, and smiled at the youngin’. “Yeah, buddy. I’m okay.” It looked as though Tate’s shoulders dropped in relief. “You should see the other guys.” She winked at him and he smiled at her. He was comforted by the fact that she seemed like her normal self.

Lloyd peeped over Tate’s head to spot John. “We’re ready here, boss.” They observed John taking in the herd and the surrounding nature. “Nothin’ prettier on this earth.”

“It’s as free as a man can be.”

“Makes you wonder,” Lloyd moved the reins around in his hands to have a better grip. “Who’s gonna feed this world when there’s none of us left.”

John laughed. “Nobody, Lloyd. This world’s just gonna go hungry.” He spurred Red into motion. Stella would have galloped off with him but decided against it. She followed beside the cart with Abigail at a fast walk.

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