#could handyman bill be canon in this?

[brrdhouse]

currently obsessed with these two... i could be a good mother

doodles and notes under cut:

[huginsmemory]

Like I get why human-Bill post canon redemption fics for Billford are common because it's fun to put Bill in that situation where he doesn't know whats going on and its a way to 'break' Bill into not being a huge asshole through learning empathy BUT I feel like also a big part of that is also people being COWARDS and not leaning into the monsterfuckery of Ford falling in love and getting it on freaky style with a triangle LIKE HE ALREADY DID.

[turbulentscrawl]

Modern AU: Norton Campbell

You've heard of modern reader? Well now it's time for Modern canon!

- Previously, he worked in the oil industry, but a nasty accident he doesn’t speak about has left him with his fair share of burn scars. Norton now works as an independent contractor, known around town as a do-it-all type of handyman. He rarely works with or for group projects, preferring to be hired directly by property owners for the work they need done. He’s his own boss, and he makes his own schedule, but he’s a workaholic.

- He was raised by his uncle Benny after his parents died when he was still very young—his mother shortly after childbirth, due to complications, and his father in a work-related accident. Benny’s health deteriorated fast, though, and as soon as he was legally able Norton picked up a part-time job to help pay the bills and build a college fund. (Or several, more like, and he was known to bounce around for better pay.)

-Some time in his senior year of high school, he discovered that Benny was keeping secrets; Benny had not only convinced his father to stay in the oil industry after he was born, but wasted and gambled away all the life insurance money from his death. Enraged and betrayed, Norton dropped out of school and left. He drove as far away as he could with the little money he had, and then lived out of his truck for a while. Eventually, he made enough money to rent a shitty little motel room by the week, and then a shitty little apartment.

-After leaving, he at first went into the oil industry like his old man and Benny had been—it was something he was familiar enough with and hard labor paid better than being a busboy again. But after a few years there was an accident which left him with several burn scars. He was left in pain for a long time, but the worker’s comp paid for most of his medical bills and his rent, giving him just enough time to get his GED. After that, he started into construction, plumbing, and other handiman things he was knowledgeable in after years of being poor and self-sufficient.

-The accident, this time, was more of an ACTUAL accident. Norton had a disagreement with some of the coworkers he hated. There was an altercation, and something ignited…and Norton was the only one who got out. He doesn’t talk about it, mostly out of shame and a sense of guilt, but he copes by telling himself they deserved it.

- He drives the same beat-up old pickup truck Benny bought for him as a kid. It was transferred into his name when he was 18, so Benny can’t swipe it from under his nose. (Legally, anyway.) He could probably get a loan and buy a new car, but at this point he prefers to keep the old hunk of junk. Maybe he’s sentimental, or maybe the weekly maintenance he has to do on it is just therapeutic in a way.

-Not a super techy guy. He keeps up with industry news and learns new skills often, but his truck, his phone, and most of his home appliances are older. He’s good enough with fixing things that he hasn’t bothered to replace them.

-He’s not much of a decorator, either, but he’s good at thrifting and building his own furniture with recycled materials. His apartment/home is a bit of a hodgepodge, with mostly bare walls, but what he does have I impressive in its own way. Any décor he has is likely gifted.

-He’d like to own a home one day, but he’s playing things by ear. He realizes that might be asking a lot while he’s got no real support system.

-He’s a fair cook, but a lot of what he makes could be called “struggle meals.” They’re what he’s been used to for a long time.

-He’s a little paranoid about pumping gas into his truck, but he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do. On his days off, he tends to walk to take public transit to save some money and gas mileage.

-He’s that guy with a 7-in-1 shampoo, conditioner, bodywash etc men’s soap. Someone please teach him better ways.

[sleepy-spacetronaut]

Gravity Falls fanfic plot idea

After a long moment of debating I decided to write down something I could incorporate my Human!Bill design into. (Why do all my writing ideas come to me at the worst possible times?!)

Some plot related specificities

Bill has a human form he maintains up until he managed to restore his magic back to 50% of its initial quantity.

Stanley would have some amnesiac episodes and holes in his memory.

Subsequently, Bill would offer to help restore some of them since he saw most of his memories back when he tried to possess him in Season 1.

Mabel and Dipper would turn 16 during the summer (story happens 2 years post weirdmaggedon)

One-sided BillFord (romantically) most likely, it could become queerplatonic with mutual bickering.

High chances of the story being anachronistic for the sole purpose of using some Gen Z slang and songs from the 2010s.

We will try to stick as close to the canon as possible, until we jump into complete and utter weirdness powered by imagination.

The plot itself

Main idea is that the initial “forced therapy for millions of years” solution failed miserably. Knowing that Bill is chaos incarnate, he would be driving the theraprism staff mad for the sake of getting a rise out of people. He’d make arts and crafts with his meds, bullsh*t his way through therapy sessions ,and draw cringe stuff about him and Ford dominating the multiverse together, whenever he’s not drawing red, blue and yellow triangles all over his room/cell.

The story would most likely begin with Bill getting thrown back to earth for being an annoying little equilateral freak.

The logic behind this is that if therapy couldn’t cure him, and sending him to Hell would be the same as sentencing an unworthy man to ostracism in ancient Athens, then shipping him off to earth (buttnaked and with no powers) and letting him fend for his life as a lowly human is their best option at getting him to ‘learn his lesson’.

I love the Handyman Bill AU (credit to @/LosanPostle & @/waty_mot on Twitter*), so Bill will be taken in by Soos and Melody to work in the mystery Shack, however at first Bill will sneak in pretending to be an overly curious tourist and try to find a way to Ford’s laboratory. Only after getting discovered , the Axolotl would materialize in their realm to explain the reason why the dream demon was back, and ask Soos and Melody if they were okay to give Bill a place to stay for the time of his ‘redemption arc’.

With some compromises they accept, Bill must to wear an ankle monitor at all times and the Axolotl grants its protection to all the people who live in the town in case Bill tries anything silly! (e.g. Weirdmaggedon 2 since one near end-of-the-world experience clearly wasn’t enough for him)

At first he’d be casually helping out around when asked before it became his unofficial job, but the trouble settle in when the Stan twins return from their trip. They arrive at the shack two weeks before Mabel and Dipper returned for their summer vacation to visit their grunkles.

Once the younger Pines are in town, Bill will be attempting to gain their trust—this part is both difficult and incredibly delicate.

After the way he had actively tried to murder , had tortured (physically and psychologically), impersonated and lied to the Pines (and everyone else in Gravity Falls for that matter), people would first try to avoid even being in the same room as him. Eventually, he got to earn their trust by keeping to his end of he bargain each time he made promises and by actually doing favours for them.

Besides cleaning the shack and running many errands at a time, Bill would also get dragged into some perilous adventures with and without his consent, and will eventually develop a fondness for the people he’ve sworn to hate.

Mabel would probably become his favourite, he’d see her as a younger sister or perhaps as a daughter, although he wouldn’t qualify as a good caretaker. With Dipper, Bill would often get into disagreements, but their love for science, strategy games and music brought them together; they’d often sing some BABBA songs and be dorky and unserious.

Regarding his love life, it was a major flop: despite his and Mabel’s efforts, he couldn’t get back with Sixer. The cut in their withered relationship was too deep to heal with time, and romantic fantasies were quickly dumped in the trash along with crumpled love notes. Although, despite not being able to see him as a romantic partner, Ford accepted the possibility of a renewal of their friendship. Bill even got to share a moment with Ford on the roof one night and rest his head on Ford’s shoulder as they gazed at the stars. Everything seems to be going great.

For once in his existence, Bill had almost everything he’d ever wanted, in a way. A place he could call home, he had friends—and family, to an extent… However, he wasn’t satsfied with what he had, and would still snoop around Ford’s stuff to see if he can make his powers return (which they do indeed, slowly by surely), yet more passively.

At one point, at the end of July, he got caught by Stanford looking through some old books and writing down magic circles. A heated argument broke out, in which both of them got injured, and it cumulated too Ford threatening to erase Bill a second time via the memory gun he kept from McGucket. In the end, Ford states that Bill will never be a part of the Pines family, that his lying was proof of the impossibility of his redemption, and that the next time he wouldn’t hesitate to get rid of him.

Upset beyond measure, Bill packs his stuff and choses to leave the town without a word of goodbye. At the edge of the town, he found his way blocked by the natural weirdness containment barrier, since his magic would almost be the same as half of what he had prior to his death and resurrection in the Theraprism. Even more enraged, Bill tried to break the barrier, transforming into something close to his feral form when he was a triangle—except in human form he’d look something like a Titan. Mabel and Dipper also had ran off in search for Bill because they got worried, and when they tried to stop him, they got captured. Bill was almost about to crush them in his hands if it weren’t for Melody, Soos, Stan and Ford’s intervention.

He then shrunk back to regular human proportions and released the twins, who got back to their grunkles. Feeling as if he had messed it up yet again, and not wanting to face the consequences to his actions (both due to him being still bitter with the way Ford treated him and being scared because he overstepped the agreement Soos had with the Axolotl and did not want to be returned to the Theraprism) Bill chose to run. He took off into the woods before anyone could stop him. Would he survive the woods and it’s inhabitants?

Would he get back to the shack?

Would he travel to another dimension and attempt to ‘fix’ everything, or will his existence be doomed to a catastrophic ending?

Only time will tell.

Now a little poll time, should I bring this to life or shall it forever be a theoretical thing, too dangerous (or boring?) to be applied in practice?

*note regarding the AU: there’s an account here where the creators of the Handyman Bill AU post their comics, they can be found under the tag or simply by searching the name of the AU in the search bar.

[drowninnoodles]

Which 3 GF Characters will get along with Basil from Omori and why?

Same applies to Henry from FNAF

Who's most likely to replace Soos as a handyman now Soos is Mr Mystery in your opinion: Paz(cifica), Melody or someone else

What parts of GF you wishes to be and to be not canon?

BUY GOLD, BYE!!! (YROO RH GIRZMTOV)

Probably some weak asses <- i dont like basil so it will be hard to choose

Uh. Mabel cuz she ofc would talk to anyone. Robbie's parents probably too. Cause they have garden (well graveyard)

And uh henz hm... Soos cuz handyman. Mcgucket for literally the same reason. They could probably talk over something about losing their mind if we're talking about Henry from the books. aaand hm. He would make a deal with Bill probably to get the baby back so-

and uhh. I think that Paz is working with Susan and isnt melody in care of cash register? or smth. HMMM. UHHH. Maybe he could do what Stan did and help some kid? He looks like someone who would follow his example, so...

Part to not be canon? Ford (jk)

But seriously idk, i think everything is good there. I wouldnt change anything.

Part to be canon? Honestly uhhh i kinda like Mabfica ship... but idk. dipfica works for me as well so im not complaing at all. Idk i would want to see more Ford suffering. And he should be punished properly for being an idiot, because there will never be enough of that for me. No, what happened isnt enough.

hard TO CHOOSE OUHHHHHHHG

[traincat]

I was just wondering, was it ever stated what Ben's job was before he died? He must have made at least just enough money to support himself, May, Peter and pay the bills if he was the sole breadwinner of the house, and when he died Peter had to get a job and May had to sell her belongings. Personally, I think his job was mechanical in a way, like a car mechanic or something. It would explain where Peter got the tools to build his web shooters.

I could be wrong, but I don’t think Ben’s job has ever been stated in 616. I think there are certain things we can infer about it just from Ben’s personality and the little snatches of the Parkers’ lives we see before his death -- it was definitely blue collar, well paying enough to support a two adult household who suddenly and unexpectedly inherited a small child and where one of those adults has spent significant amounts of canon in poor health but not well paying enough to keep them financially comfortable or entirely out of the red. (We do have to account for things like the sliding timescale.) Ben doesn’t come across as overly educated, in fairly sharp contrast to his brother Richard, which is interesting -- but there is a substantial age gap between Ben and Richard, and it’s possible that Ben could have foregone his own education to pay for Richard’s schooling himself or that Richard, who is a spy in 616, might have had his education paid for by SHIELD. We know even less about Richard than we do about Ben, and to be honest, we don’t know that much about Ben. But I would agree with you; I think Ben most likely worked either in a mechanical field or in construction, definitely in some sort of trade where there would be room for him to move into a management position as he got older and demanding physical labor became more difficult for him. Ben comes across as aggressively blue collar, very salt of the earth, praising Peter’s intelligence and the same time as he pushes Peter into more physical pursuits, and I think it makes the most sense that Peter’s technical know-how and handyman skills (we see him fixing a roof at one point in Sensational Spider-Man) were learned at home from Ben. I think Ben’s job was definitely in a trade. 

(My personal headcanon here, and I’m just spinning things out, is that the Parker family on Ben’s side are probably pretty recent immigrants -- with Ben either coming to the US from Europe as a small child or being born in the US very shortly after his parents arrived, with Richard being born in the US a number of years afterward. It’s one way to explain the gap between Ben and Richard, both in terms of education and in age. I think the Parkers are Jewish, but that Ben is almost aggressively not religious, which accounts for a lot of Peter’s own feelings on the subject, and that Ben probably has strong communist leanings.) 

But to move away from 616 for a second -- we do know what Ben Parker does for a living in the TASM movies ‘verse, although it’s a little bit hidden, and I’m obsessed with it, it is such a good piece of worldbuilding: TASM Ben is a bridge worker.

“He built bridges for a living but for for fun he made and repaired old watches and clocks.” - The Amazing Spider-Man tie-in comic #1. Love it, obsessed with it, I love the looming specter of the bridge in the TASM movies and how it’s just this constantly reoccurring motif even though TASM’s Night Gwen Stacy Died scene doesn’t take place at the bridge. I like this for Ben because it hits a lot of character notes that feel true to me -- it’s a job in construction, it’s very local, it fits in with Ben’s entire salt of the earth deal, and it’s a union job. Ben Parker 100% seems like a union man to me.

There’s a magnet you can spot on the Parkers’ fridge in the first movie, and May wears Ben’s shirt as pajamas, which is very cute. (We know TASM May works as a waitress initially before she starts training to be a nurse.) So I’m very into that. I’m not sure it’s what I think 616 Ben does exactly, but I think 616 Ben could very easily be in the same vein of work. It just feels very fitting.

[whatidoisxsecret]

Bichie and 1-10 :)

1. Who wakes up earliest?

Bill. Not much earlier, but definitely earlier than Richie!

2. Who stays up latest?

Richie, who often times is up playing video games with a snoozing Bill cuddled into his side.

3. Who’s the handyman?

Bill thinks he is, but he often makes things worse because he's too stubborn to read up on how to fix things. Richie has this innate talent in putting things back together, and figuring out solutions to whatever problem an appliance in their house has!

4. Who’s the breadwinner?

Ooo, tricky. If we go off of Canon, an author and comedian probably do their fair share of providing financial support to the relationship... right? :') In college, Richie because he works harder while Bill stubbornly tries to make money selling stories before he’s an established author.

5. Who would write their memoir?

Bill! On account of the author thing. He's good with words.

6. Who is the best dressed?

oooo, God. Neither. Richie mixes patterns and doesn't care if any colors clash, Bill is a repeat outfit offender who often has paint stains (he still does art as a hobby like he did as a kid in the 2017 adaptation). The most normal outfit would go to Bill, but Richie's confidence has him

7. Who is the worst dressed?

Both, for the reasons listed above. But I guess Richie would almost always take the cake!

8. Who sings the kids to sleep?

I would not trust these two with their own kids. Not this pairing. They'd be the fun uncles.

9. Who screams the loudest in an argument?

Oh... Richie. He runs his mouth. Bill is the silent one, gives menacing death looks that could ice your bones, waiting to deliver the final blow because again - he's the one good with words. Richie is just loud to make himself heard.

10. Who breaks down and tries to surrender in an argument?

Richie because he's a softie on the inside and can't process hurt feelings with grace. Bill is spiteful and a pro at silent treatments, and his headstrong, stubborn personality makes it near impossible that he ever backs down first. He might come back later to apologize, but Richie will break in the middle of the argument.

[littlemonstersau-blog]

The Feels Awaken, Part 2: The Fandom’s Menace

Written by @jkl-fff, illustrated by me

PART I - PART II [Interlude]  - PART III (you are here) - PART IV [Interlude]

———————————————————————————————-

Soos, excitedly setting up everything: Dude, I knew exactly what we should watch as soon as Stan said “movie day”. The prequel trilogy of Cosmos Conflicts! I’ve been meaning to show you them since, like, the first time you said you love the first two originals movies, and even more since we all sat down together so you could finally see Return of the Jelived, Bitch! The prequels’re actually, like, seriously three of my all-time favorite movies ever.

Ford, actually smiling: Heh. I would’ve watched them before now— especially now that I know how keen you are to share them with me— except Dipper and Mabel would never let me. They kept saying they loved me too much to let me watch them, if you can believe it.

Soos: Well, I admit they’re not the most popular with fans, yeah, but that’s just ‘cause, like, most people can’t handle this much raw, concentrated awesomeness.

Melody, deadpan on the floor: Uh huh. That’s exactly what it is.

Soos: It’s like really spicy food; some people just don’t have a— whatcha call it?—sophisticated enough palette to appreciate the awesome sauce. Y’know?

Melody, still deadpan: Most just aren’t refined enough. For sure. Yep. That explains it.

Stan, entering TV room: I got drinks for everybody!

Bill, right after him: And I got the popcorn! Let’s jump right in to this glorious madness!

Melody, mildly surprised: You like these movies?

Bill, passing around bowls of popcorn: Absolutely! They’re one of the hottest messes in cinematic history!

Stan, passing around cups of soda: Mel, you sure you don’t want my easy chair? It’s no problem, really.

Melody: Lying flat is the best thing for my back lately. Besides, I can put my feet up in my honeybear’s lap while he rubs them for me.

Soos, genuinely happy at this prospect: Sure can, honeybadger!

Stan, taking his seat: Well, if you’re sure. C’mon, gremlin! [picks up Bill]

Bill, almost giggling: Whoahoho! Careful, I’m gonna spill!

Stan, setting Bill next to him (on opposite side of Ford): There. All comfy, kiddo?

Bill, deciding to settle in like a cat: Alright, yeah, I’m okay with this. Primo seating and everything!

Ford, making himself look straight ahead: Let’s start it.

TV: George Dufasfilms Ltd. and 20th Century Foxups presents … Cosmos Conflicts, Episode 1! The Phantom Nuisance! [fanfare theme song plays, prologue crawls upward]

Ford: Wait, what? “Turmoil has engulfed the galaxy because taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute”?! This is about freaking tax policy? And that leads to galactic turmoil?

Stan: Don’t know ‘bout you, but the IRS certainly causes me turmoil. [Soos stops rubbing Melody’s feet long enough to highfive him]

Ford, incredulous: This is a prequel, right? So why is all their tech more advanced? Why are there more and better droids?

Soos: Well, the Trade Union canonically uses droids more than other species. It only makes sense they’d create more advanced—

Bill: Because George Dufas has a robot fetish. That’s seriously why. He uses the entirety of this film like normal people use hardcore porn.

TV: Master, I have a bad feeling about this. TV: Be mindful of the Living Force, my rattail-coiffed padawan.

Ford: Pada-what-now? That’s not a word. Why didn’t they go with “apprentice” or—heck!—“squire”, since they’re Jelived Knights?

Soos: Shhhhh!

TV: Gee thanks, Master, that’s certainly helpful and not at all vague. That advice will definitely help me be a diplomat, even though Jelived like us are more like killer, magic samurai-priest-cops. TV: Indeed, my superfluously-ponybobbed padawan, which is why we have openly worn our iconic bathrobes and lasercutlasses instead of even the most basic of disguises. Letting the Trade Union know the Senate sent trained killers will surely put them at ease.

Melody: Nope, they’ll try to gas you both now. Good thing they kept all that toxic gas in their air vents.

TV: My fellow crafty and greedy Trade Unionist insectoids. First, I raise a glass to our race’s abandon of our native customs and tongue in favor of caricatures of antiasian stereotypes and accents. TV: Hear hear! TV: Second, we have done well in executing our secret Shit master’s evil plan to blockade this world of minor socio-economic importance (for some reason), and to kill those two Jelived. They must surely be dead by now, so let’s send in some droids to kill them further. TV: But, sir, they’ve only been in there for fifteen seconds. TV: OPEN THE DOOR, I SAY! AND SEND IN … FIVE DROIDS! TV: Sir, predictably, they weren’t dead, and destroyed the five droids. Now they are cutting through the door to our command center. TV: IMPOSSIBLE! SEND … TWO MORE DROIDS! NO, THREE!

Ford: Wasn’t the hangar full of battle droids?

Melody: Oh, the whole ship is. They just want the fight to be fair.

Ford: … what. [watches as Trade Union leader makes a call to Queen Imdolledupa] … What. [watches as she tells her council “I won’t condone actions that could lead Planet Baboon to war, even if we have been blockaded for months at this point and they’re clearly planning an invasion”] … What. [watches as invasion lands on opposite side of planet than cities] … WHAT.

Bill, grinning: Don’t worry. It gets worse. Much, much worse. Starting … right … now.

TV: Tank yusa for saving mesa from dose bombad battle droids, yusa Jelived who escaped da main starship by sneaky-sneaky on dat transport! Mesa love you! Mesa follow you forever and ever! TV: Master, I sense that this Jerkjerk creature will bring suffering to millions. May I please cut him down for the good of the Force? TV: No, my practically mulleted padawan. We need him alive, because … reasons. Probably related to merchandising. TV: Mesa take yusa to secret, bubble city of mesa people now!

Ford, through gritted teeth: Who the fffff … fuzz is that annoying frog-lizard-man, and why do I feel a collective unconscious urge to beat him to death with my bare hands?! Why aren’t the Jelived Force Choking him, or at least Mind Tricking him into leaving?

Bill: That is Jerkjerk Kinks, a monument to Dufas’s amphibian fetish and the first reason the Twins wouldn’t let you watch this movie.

Soos, defensively: He’s not that bad! He’s got a good heart!

Melody, sighing: Oh, my sweet, innocent, naïf honeybear …

TV: Boss Gass, even though you dislike the humans who invaded and colonized your planet, and even though you live completely apart from them in your Plasmatlantis, you are symbiotic with them. TV: Mesa tinking yusa no understand what “symbiotic” means. TV: Well, if you won’t help the humans, at least don’t kill Jerkjerk—

Ford, spitting out popcorn: YES, KILL JERKJERK!

TV: —because he owes me a life debt and is now basically my slave. Your gods and laws demand that his life belongs to me. TV: Mesa tinking it racist for yusa to claim to understand oursa laws and culture, white man. And to claim ownership of a sentient being (dat isn’t a droid). But yusa hair so fabulous and mesa so bored wit dis conversation, mesa give yusa Jerkjerk and submarine so yusa go. TV: Excellent. Now, to boat through the planet’s watery core.

Ford: … That is literally impossible. Even if the core was water, the center would be denser than rock because of all the pressure. [watches as ship navigates past giant sea monsters] There would be no light, no life, no nothing down there.

Soos, patiently: Yeah, but it’s fun. That’s what matters.

Stan: I like how they just happen to pop up in the capital city, and how nobody notices them, even though it’s occupied.

Bill: I like how the people of Planet Baboon put up absolutely zero resistance to the Trade Union’s invasion, despite all the forewarning they had since the blockade and from the invasion landing clear on the wrong side of the planet. If only Imdolledupa had been Mayor of Gravity Falls, am I right? Heh heh … heh … What? Too soon?

Ford, grimacing at Bill: Mmm …

Stan, patting him: Gremlin, it’ll prob’ly always be too soon for that.

TV: Master, there’s the Queen. How fortunate we came up next to her, and that the Trade Union decided to march her through the streets instead of simply landing a shuttle outside the palace. TV: Yusa big fortunate dey only escorted by six droids even dough hersa entourage has twenty people! TV: … Master, yet again I beg you to let me kill this irritating— and you’re already gone … and the droids are already dead. TV: Majesty, I am Jelived Master Leam-Nee San. Come with me if you want to Jelive. We’ll escape this planet, take you to the Senate, and tell them how heated this tax policy dispute has gotten here. TV: You arrived at a fortunate time, Jelived, because they were about to make me sign a treaty legalizing their invasion of Baboon.

Melody: ‘cause that’d be totally legit, right? No coercion at all.

Stan, nudging Bill, whispering: Maybe you should’ve forced Mayor Cutebiker to sign a treaty, eh?

Bill: Heh! But you just said—

Ford, grimacing at Stan: Mmm … [watches as they find an unguarded ship and fly straight at blockade instead of around it; ship gets away, but with hyperdrive damage] Okay, why is that Jelived—what’s his name? Yuan-Mac Gragor?— repairing the hyperdrive instead of a pilot? Is that supposed to be standard training for Jelived, or something?

Soos, shrugging: Seems like it’d be pretty easy to pick up to me.

Melody: Well, yeah, it would be for you, honeybear. Mr. Handyman with the magic fingers! Aw, yeah, that’s the spot … Keep rubbing …

TV: We can’t land on Hallowine, it’s controlled by Pitsa-Hutts! They’re gangsters! It wouldn’t be safe for Queen Imdolledupa! TV: I’m sorry, non-Jelived person, I couldn’t hear you over how luxurious my hair is. And I don’t care what you said anyway. Now, I’m off to buy us a hyperdrive. Time and stealth are of the essence, so naturally I’m going to take with me a slow-rolling droid, my frog-lizard-man slave who is so idiotic he will step in every literal and figurative pile of doodoo, and this willful teenage girl. TV: Master Jelived, not to question your wisdom, but— TV: Good. See to it that you never question any Jelived ever again, for we are infallible and will take off your head. Tata for now.

Stan: Why take Jerkjerk? D’you think he was hopin’ to sell him? Or maybe just ditch him?

Ford: Being amphibious, it’s likely the extreme heat and dryness might’ve proved fatal to him. Perhaps the hope was he’d drop dead.

Soos, whimpering softly: Why does everyone hate him? He just wants to help!

Ford, curtly: Because he’s the worst, Soos. He’s just … the worst. [watches shadowy Shit Lord Farth Sidious bitch at Trade Union for letting the Queen get away, then dispatches Farth Maul to fix it; watches heroes wander into a desert town on Hallowine]

TV: How fortunate the first shop we enter has a hyperdrive for sale. Now to use my Mind Trick on the disgusting, pig-butterfly proprietor without once having the least of scruples about how unethical that is. TV: Ha! Mind Tricks won’t work on me, only MONEY! I’m surprised you couldn’t tell from my Yiddish accent and hooked nose, human.

Ford, eyes wide in shock: Did they really just—

Stan, shaking his head: Moses—

Soos, blanching: Oh, yeah … I, uh, k-kinda forgot about him. Sorry, dudes. I guess all the lasercutlass duels and space battles made me forget about the, um, antisemitic stereotypes.

Ford: Not … Not your fault, Soos. We’ll just—

TV: Are you an angel? I know it doesn’t make sense that angels exist as a mythological concept in our galaxy, but you’re really pretty, so … I’m a slave, by the way. So is my mom, though you’d never know it since we dress like everybody else and get to walk around freely. I saved your frog-lizard-man friend thing from a brawl, by the way. My name’s Otherkin Skyjogger. I’m 9, but that doesn’t matter, angel. TV: I’m Padmy Resume. I’ll try to forgive you for saving Jerkjerk. TV: Is your friend with the magnificent hair a Jelived, angel? He has a Jelived weapon. There’s a sandstorm coming, even though the air looks exactly the same as it did a while ago, so you should all come have dinner at my place. My mom won’t mind, even though we have very little money for food, presumably, what with being slaves. TV: Why not? Story’s not going anywhere. I’ll get Leam-Nee San.

Bill, stifling a cackle at the next scene: (My favorite dialogue!)

TV: Queen, this is a holo-transmission from Baboon, even though we have no idea where your ship is because you’re hiding. Anywho, the Trade Union is awful, the death toll is catastrophic, the weather is a little humid. Please contact us; this is not an obvious ploy. Love ya, bye! … Wait, did I just say “love ya” to the Que— TV: I know I’m just a padawan with a pointlessly stupid haircut, but I’m gonna tell your planet’s leadership what to do now. *Ahem*. That was an obvious plot to learn where the Queen is. Don’t reply.

Stan: If I was that security office, I’d bitchslap that uppity teen.

Melody, warningly: Language.

Bill: Sorry, Mel, he meant to say “teenslap that uppity bitch”. [highfives Stan]

Ford: Pffhaha! *ahem* [watches Otherkin take them home and mother is all “Sure, why not? I’ll give room and board to three strangers who’ve taken a not-at-all unsettling interest in my prepubescent son. Now for a dinner chat!”] Wait, what? Did he seriously just say he’s the only human who can rocket-chariot race? But racing is just … racing!

Bill: He just wants to impress the “angel”, so he’s exaggerating. But she believes him even though he’s 9 and obviously has a crush on her ‘cause she’s kind of a Dumasc.

Melody, more warningly: Language.

Soos, reluctantly: Actually, he’s not swearing. It’s an in-canon term for “politician” ‘cause the galactic capital is on Planet Dumascent.

Bill: And it’s very political of her—gets them free room and board. Yep, that Dumasc ain’t no dumbass.

Ford and Stan, cracking up: Pfffhahahaha!

TV: There’s a problem, my should-just-get-a-buzzcut padawan. I found a hyperdrive, but couldn’t Mind Trick the owner to give it to me for racist and plot-related reasons, and it’d be unethical to just steal it (and I just can’t be unethical). Nor could I buy it with a promise of higher repayment next week from Jelived funds. But, fortunately, there’s a rocket-chariot race soon, and if this 9-year-old Force Sensitive I just met wins … we’ll get the money to buy it!

Stan, exasperated: What, does George Dufas also have a fetish for 80s sitcom clichés? Don’t answer that question, Bill.

TV: And I’ll win the kid as a slave—Jelived apprentice, I mean— because I unironically rigged a dice toss with my powers. I had to bet the Queen’s ship, but I’m sure she won’t mind if we don’t tell her. TV: Ah, but you’re going to use Jelived powers to rig the race, right? TV: What?! Never! That would be unethical and spoil the suspense! TV: … Master, I’m concerned your gambling addiction is— TV: What? Khshh! Can’t hear you! Khshh! There’s a sandstorm! Oh, also, I’m transmitting the kid’s blood sample through our radio. TV: That’s not how radios work, Master, but okay … dum di dim … Got the results, and this kid has more midi-chlorians than Yoda.

Ford, suspicious: What … are … those?

Bill, grinning: The second reason the Twins wouldn’t let you see this movie. Heh heh heh …

TV: My 9-year-old son is meant to help you in this dangerous race. It’s destiny, and stuff. That’s why I’m so criminally permissive. Oh, did I mention his conception was immaculate?

Ford, jumping up: WHAT?! JESUS CHRIST!

Bill, grinning: Exactly. Space Jesus Christ.

Ford: Does … Does this mean … midi-chlorians …

TV: Sir, you were talking to my mom about midi-chlorians? TV: Ah, yes, the omnipresent, microscopic organisms that confer the Force randomly upon some individuals, are not at all mystical or magical, and are probably your daddy, O Chosen One of the Jelived.

Ford, apoplectic: WHAT THE FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF—

Soos, whimpering softly: Oh, no! the Angry Words™!

Melody: Don’t you dare, Stanford Pines!

Ford, like a death metal singer: —UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU—

Melody: Don’t! You! Dare!

Ford: —NDAMENTALLY STUPID IDEA IS THIS CRAP?! AND HOW DOES FARTH MAUL KNOW TO CHECK THIS PLANET, BUT THE JELIVED DON’T SENSE HIS DARK PRESENCE?! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS BULLSHI—

Stan, as though his brother wasn’t screaming: Oh, look, Sixer. It’s time for the big rocket-chariot race.

Ford, breathing heavily: If this isn’t the best race ever, I swear … [watches race] Okay, yes, that was genuinely exciting.

Soos, relieved: Hooray!

Ford: Enough that I’m going to overlook the sabotage in front of a stadium of spectators, the fact it didn’t actually impede his winning, the ludicrousy of Otherkin catching up to but not passing his rival, and Java the Pitsa-Hutt being shown sleeping through the race. I mean, really? Why would you suggest your own film is boring?

Melody: To be fair, this is basically space NASCAR, and earth NASCAR is boringer than golf.

Ford, muttering to himself: More boring … Grammar …

TV: Alright, my shamefully beardless padawan, take the hyperdrive and everyone else back to the ship while I make Otherkin say goodbye to his mother forever and ever and ever. TV: About that, Master. Why don’t we just take her with us, too? I mean, slavery’s incontestably morally abhorrent, and we’re Jelived and can screw the consequences of most our actions. TV: What?! Never! TV: Because it’d be unethical to steal someone’s property, Master, even if that property is a sentient being? TV: Well, that, and we already have one major woman character for this whole trilogy. Why would we have more than one woman?

Melody: Grrrr, sexism … Makes me always hope Maul’ll kill him.

TV: Goodbye, son. Jelived, promise you’ll take care of my son? TV: What? Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how opulent my hair is. Anyway, tata forever. Come along, Otherkin. TV: I love you, mom! I’ll never forget you!

Stan, looking sideways in surprise: Gremlin, are … are you crying?

Bill, swiping at eyes: W-what, me?! No! Not like goodbyes’re s-sad! I just got, um, some g-glitter dust in my eyes … All Mabel’s fault the stuff is freakin’ everywhere in here …

Stan, putting an arm around him: Heh. Tell me about it, kiddo.

Ford, silently glancing sideways at Bill: (… hmm …)

TV: Excuse me, Yuan-Mac, but isn’t that a Shit Lord attacking your master right outside the ship? Shouldn’t you go help him? TV: I would, but this chair’s just too comfy. If I get up, you know Imdolledupa will steal it (that bitch!). Besides, look, Leam-Nee San got aboard the ship just fine. Oh *sigh* and so did his new slave boy. Guess I should go introduce myself to that homewrecking hussy— er, kid! I meant kid … Hello, Master and filthy slave boy. TV: Ah, my worst-hair-of-the-three-of-us padawan, meet my new younger and cuter padawan, Otherkin Skyjogger. The Chosen One. I’m sure you two will be best friends and as close as brothers. TV: Hi! (I’m daddy’s new favorite. Die jealous about it.) TV: Hi! (I will throw you into a volcano the first chance I get.) TV: I knew you two would hit it off. But I wonder who that person in black with a red lightsaber was who attacked me just now … Well, I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too late becoming best friends.

Ford: Does he really not pick up on them hating each other then?

Soos, confused: What’re you talking about? They get really close.

Ford: Pff. Yeah, which is why Farth Vaper strikes him down in the original movie, right?

Stan: Eh, what’s a little strikin’ down between brothers?

Melody: “Space is cold,” Padmy Resume says to the kid. Like, don’t they have temperature controls in their ships?

Bill: Don’t forget, this was “a long time ago”. They hadn’t invented space heaters yet.

Ford: Ha! Haha—er, *ahem* that was … that was clever. [watches them land on Dumascent, a planet-wide city] That … is also impossible. Completely unsustainable. Without trees, how do they breathe?

Bill: They export all their CO and CO2, and import … everything, pretty much. Oxygen, food, water … It’s the reason they named the planet Dumascent; they’re all—

Melody, warningly: Don’t say it.

Bill, silently mouthing at Ford: (… dumbasses.)

Ford: Heh heh … [watches Imdolledupa’s retinue go with Baboon Senator Shiv Saltine while the Jelived threesome goes to the Temple and tests Otherkin]

TV: Esteemed fellow Senators, I haven’t made a big deal about it, because I kinda suck at my job, but Baboon was invaded recently. I now introduce Queen Imdolledupa and Representative Jerkjerk—

Ford, sarcastically: Well, he certainly is qualified.

TV: —who will speak on my planet’s behalf, thereby rendering my presence here as a Senator utterly redundant. Majesty? TV: I— TV: I’M THE SENATOR FROM THE TRADE UNION, BECAUSE IT TOTALLY MAKES SENSE A COMPANY HAS EQUAL REP WITH INHABITED PLANETS, AND I NOW FORMALLY MAKE A MOTION OF “SHUT UP, BITCH”! TV: Motion is seconded. The bitch is hereby required to shut up. TV: … Okay, y’know what? Screw y’all bureaucrats. As queen, I raise my planet’s middle finger at all of you. Now, I’m going back to do what I should’ve done months ago … fight the invaders! TV: Mesa going wid you? TV: Sure, why the space heck not?! We’re out. Peace between worlds!

Melody, raising a fist: You go, girl! Better late than never!

Bill: And the moral of the story is that democracy doesn’t work.

Ford, dubious: Thank you, Farth Cipher. Anyway, if we get lucky, Jerkjerk will die painfully in the coming battle.

Soos, whimpering: He’s just doing his best!

TV: Spoken, the Jelived Council has (meaning a decision, I’ve made with Master Sa-Myul Jaxon, which abide the other masters will, if what’s good for them, they know). Your padawan, Otherkin won’t be. TV: Master Jaxon, for clarity’s sake, could you explain why not? TV: Our code forbids someone as old as he is be trained. For reasons. Our code forbids you having two padawans at once. For reasons. TV: And much fear in him, we sense. Which bad, always is. TV: But, Master Yoda, his midi-chlorians—

Ford, jumping up: RRRAAAAAARRRGHGHGHGHGHGH!

TV: —and he’s the Chosen One prophesied to bring balance—

Ford: WHO EVEN MAKES THESE PROPHECIES?!

TV: —and it’s kind of hypocritical of you to say his fear is bad even as you are all too afraid to let train him be trained. TV: Clutching my pearls, I now am! A scandal, this is! TV: The council forbids you training him, Leam-Nee San. TV: Huh? Sorry, Master Baldy, I couldn’t hear you over how sumptuous my hair is. Oh, and now my middle fingers are up for some reason. Strange … Well, better go train Otherkin. I’ll start by taking him to the soon-to-be Baboon warzone. Tata, bitches.

Bill: I guess we call that Leam-Nee San’s act of … HAIResy!

Ford and Stan: Pffhahaha!

Melody, annoyed: The prophecy (we almost never hear about again) is to bring “balance to the Force”, right? Why do none of them ever consider that might signify strengthening the Dark Side? I mean, Jelived are kinda dominating the galaxy right now, and are always trying to stomp the Shit out of existence.

Ford and Stan and Bill, uncontrollably: Hehehehehehehe!

Soos, plaintively: Why must we always question it, dudes? Why can’t we just enjoy it?

Stan: ‘cause they’re flyin’ back to the planet without any trouble. Look, the blockade is gone. Where the heck did it go?

Bill: They got sucked into a black plot hole. Lots of those in space.

Ford: And they just happen to land in the swamp right where all the frog-lizard-men are hiding?

Bill: Don’t forget George Dufas made good actors act woodenly. See?

TV: Boss Gass, I woodenly beg you to help us. To be our allies. After this, we’ll return lands and first-class citizen status to you, even though your people are slimy and inferior non-humans. TV: Hmm … Wesa live in a bloody swamp. Wesa need all the land wesa can get. Okay, wesa fight wid you, and Jerkjerk is a general.

Ford, sarcastically: Well, he certainly is qualified.

TV: The plan’s for us to sneak into the palace via secret passages that of course it has. While one team seizes the Trade Union leader, 12 pilots will take on the blockade that just barely reappeared. Well, it’s just one ship for some reason now and not a blockade. So, yeah, 12 should be enough. Meanwhile, Boss Gass’s and *snicker* General Jerkjerk’s armies’ll be a cannon fodder distraction. TV: Mesa have no qualms wid taking on a better armed force. TV: Good, because you blinked and we’re in the palace already. TV: Oh, blast. I was going to leave you on the ship, Otherkin, but the Queen scene-transitioned us here too quickly. Okay, listen. I want you to find somewhere safe to hide, alright? TV: Yes, daddy. I mean, Master Leam-Nee San. TV: Uh, daddy—I mean, Master? That Shit from Hallowine is back. Should I have the Queen’s troops gun him down? TV: No, my why-didn’t-you-get-a-haircut-on-Dumascent padawan, we will seductively slip out of our Jelived bathrobes and duel him despite his badass, double-ended lasercutlass. BONZAI!

Ford, excited: Finally, the good stuff! [watches movie cut back to Jerkjerk; his people’s shields stop blasts, but not droids and tanks rolling right through them] … what. [watches Otherkin hide in a ship, activate it on accident, fly it into the heat of a space battle on accident, not get shot down but rather shoot down bunches of droid ships on accident—because the Force and because rocket-chariot racing and because fuck the audience— “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ll try a spin; that’s a good trick.”] … What. [watches Jerkjerk shoot more enemies than all the stormtroopers in the original trilogy combined on accident, explode some on accident] … What. [watches Otherkin crash land inside the Trade Union ship on accident blow up its power core or something on accident, escape on accident] … WHAT.

Soos, unironically: Hooray for Jerkjerk! Hooray for Otherkin!

Ford: Boo for Jerkjerk! Boo for Otherkin! Why aren’t they dying?! [throws handful of popcorn at screen]

Bill, excitedly joining in: Woooooo! Anarchy in the living room!

Ford, ranting: Why are all the droids shutting down?! Why would anyone design battle droids without independent operating systems?! Why isn’t there at least one other battleship with a backup for them?! And where the fffff-funky music is my lasercutlass duel?! [watches Queen’s retinue capture the Trade Union leaders “Your invasion of the planet we invaded is over, immigrant sc … um, I mean, Asian sc … uh, no, that’s much worse … Well, anyway, it’s over, you scum who aren’t white or that token black guy!”]

Stan, blinking in surprise: I don’t remember this movie bein’ so racist the first time I watched it. Was it always like this?

Ford, throwing more popcorn: Get to the Jelived already! [watches legitimately epic duel with great choreography progress from starfighter hangar into some sort of massive power plant] … What is a power plant doing inside the palace?

Soos: Shhhh!

Bill: Well, on Baboon, the palace is the seat … OF POWER!

Ford: Ha! Indeed … Wait, why is there a corridor of laser doors? And who’s turning them on and off? Are they on an automatic timer, or something? That’s a terrible security design.

Stan: Especially since what they’re guarding is just a dead-end room with a gaping, bottomless pit.

Bill: Lady and Gentlemen, I give you … the movie’s plot hole!

Ford and Stan: Pffhahahahaha!

Soos: Guys, c’mon! You’re spoiling the emotional climax!

TV: Da—I mean, Master, I’m stuck behind a laser door! Hold on! TV: Not to worry, I’ve got this well in hand, my less-than—Gah! Oh, look at that … I’ve been impaled … Huh … Down I fall … TV: DAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!

Ford, surprised: Wow … I actually am moved right now … [watches Yuan-Mac Gragor attack once door opens, get kicked into the pit but catch onto a convenient pipe thing or something]

TV: It’s over, Jelived. I, Farth Maul, have the high ground. TV: What a stupid thing to say, Shit Lord murderer! You will pay!

Ford: But how can Yuan-Mac Gragor possibly defeat him now? [watches him connect with the Force and do a flying backflip while drawing the lightsaber to him … and cutting Maul in half] OH, BULLSHIT!

Melody: STANFORD PINES!

Ford: The whole fight scene was the coolest except for that ending! Maul just stood there with his guard down let himself get killed off like a little bit—um … idiot. A genuinely intimidating villain, gone without a chance to develop, and in the least satisfying of ways!

Bill, casually: It was assisted suicide, really, ‘cause he couldn’t bear to live any longer in a universe where George Dufas is his god.

TV: Daddy! Master! I’m here! Hold on, please! TV: Listen … my first padawan, my first son … you must train him. Otherkin is the Chosen One … will bring balance to the Force … TV: I promise. No matter what. TV: And you must … get rid of that rattail, grow a proper mane … It’s important … for being a badass Jelived who don’t give a crap … TV: I will. The most magnificent mane ever, I swear. TV: Finally … most importantly … make sure to bury me … with winged eyeliner … *death rattle* TV: NOOO! I mean, I’ll do that, yes, of course. But NOOOOOOO!

Soos, tearing up: *sniffle* He was such a good Jelived.

Bill, evilly: I think you mean “Jedied”.

Ford and Stan: Pffhahahaha!

Bill: And don’t you meatbags usually consider owning slaves to be something that disqualifies a person from being good? Like, he had two of ‘em. Speaking of, you think this means Yuan-Mac Gragor inherits Jerkjerk? Is he legally permitted to euthanize him now?

Melody, considering that: I think the life debt is fulfilled now.

Soos, muttering: (You dudes all suck …)

TV: Come to Baboon, I have. Along with Senate soldiers to arrest the Trade Union (now that matters, Senate involvement does not). TV: Thank you, Master Yoda. That means a lot during my grief. TV: Out of pity, promote you to Knight we do. Also, more impressive than our lame, traditional trials killing a Shit, we consider. So … TV: And may I take Otherkin as my padawan? Just so you know, I made a deathbed promise to train him, so I’m going to anyway. TV: Changed their minds for no reason, the other councilors did. Little bitches, I consider them to be … But no reason, I have really to oppose his training. Other than that grave danger, I fear in his training for us all. For foreshadowing purposes, you understand. TV: Aren’t you always saying “fear leads to the Dark Side”? TV: Like your master, you are. Meaning go screw yourself, you can.

Stan: Convenient decision, ain’t it? Oh, time for the funeral.

Bill: I’m always amazed and, to be honest, a little jealous at the caliber of the winged eyeliner they get on Leam-Nee San.

Stan, shaking his head: Can you believe Yoda and Sa-Myul Jaxon are discussing Jelived business during the guy’s funeral? That’s just inconsiderate, is what that is. And why would the Shit follow that rule of two, anyway? I thought they were anti-Jelived.

Soos, dismal but unable to not answer: ‘cause they know treachery’s gonna happen sooner or later. One apprentice means only one person to keep an eye on.

Ford, derisive: Why not? Makes as little sense as everything else. Oh, they’re having a parade now. And … there’s a glowing orb? Why is the Queen giving a glowing orb to Boss Gass?

Bill: For his coffee table. It’ll make a great conversation piece.

Ford: Or would, except he’d then have to tell this awful story. Just awful … But the rest of the trilogy, it has to be better, right? It couldn’t possibly be worse.

Bill, smiling evilly: Heh heh heh … You say that now …

Soos, sulking: … I guess if you wanna watch ‘em, we can.

Melody, picking up on her husband’s dejection: Can we leave the movies with them, honeybear? I’m starting to not feel well.

Soos: Uh, sure thing, honeybadger, if you like. [gets up, helps her up, goes out the door with her] Um, see you dudes tomorrow!

Stan, with a tinge of regret: Y’think maybe we hurt his feelings raggin’ on the movies so much?

Ford, realization dawning: He … He did say they’re three of his favorite movies. Though I fail to understand why or how … All the same, perhaps I was being insensitive … again … [sighs, shrugs] Oh well. He’s not here anymore, so I suppose we can be as unbridled in our ragging as we want. And tomorrow, we’ll make it up to him. Somehow … Shall we put in the next one?

Bill, excitedly: 79 Hecks yeah! Oh, wait, they’re both gone now.

All three together: We can swear for real!

[lilyvandersteen]

What shortish (under 10k) one shots would you recommend that are meet-cutes and/or pining? Thanks!

Oooh, this is going to be a long list, Nonnie! Thanks for asking :-) Hugs, Marjan

Accessories by @hazelandglasz

Inspired by @tacogrande’s art on Tumblr : http://tacogrande.tumblr.com/post/156495579892/i-also-did-a-lil-au-where-blaine-is-just-always

All The Toys by Petalene

Fill for the GKM.  The five times Blaine went into a sex toy shop and the one time he came out with something really good. 

Auto Shops, Show Tunes and Happiness by @sunshineoptimismandangels

This is for coffeegleek wo prompted:Kurt has had to take over his dad’s shop & Blaine comes to get his car fixed, hears Kurt singing - AU meet cute, they’re 20-30+. Maybe Kurt does local community theatre. 

Blind Date by @bookqueen101

Tumblr Prompt: We’re both meant to be going on blind dates with other people but we sat down at the wrong table and got our hopes up.

Connections by @alilactree

A prompt from imnotimperfectlyperfect, Klaine alternate meeting: Blaine sees Kurt on the subway and misses his chance to talk to him, so he resorts to using an ad to find him again. This probably turned out to be a lot sillier than you were hoping, sorry about that. Warnings: Blaine goes on faily dates with other canon characters.

Dial 1 for Kurt by @starangel148

One day, as luck would have it, Kurt answered a call to his dorm phone even though he call was most likely for his playboy roommate. The rest is serendipity. AU Kurt/Blaine, set in college. 

Don’t make me over by @klaineanummel

Kurt thinks today will just be an average day; he’ll go to work, he’ll pine for his friend-with-benefits Blaine (who he desperately wants to become more), and he’ll remind his boss for the millionth time that he doesn’t want to be set up with her son. It goes pretty much as he expects… well, sort of.

Flowers Verse by @hazelandglasz​

Blaine just wants to get a bunch of flowers to his grandma.Little did he know that the Subway can lead to some interesting meetings … 

Fools Rush In by @black-john-lennon

Elvis once sang “Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can’t help falling in love with you”

Blaine and Sam might be those guys.

Free Pizza to Make You Smile by @princehummel

A short, cheesy (pun super intended) Valentine’s Day meet-cute. A bit late, but whatever.

It’s Valentine’s Day, but Kurt has too much homework and not enough boyfriend (in other words, no boyfriend) to properly celebrate. But there’s no law that says he can’t celebrate with himself, his laptop, and a special pizza.

Getting Out the Vote, 2016 – Feel the Bern! by @nightingale63

Klaine AU – Kurt and Blaine never met in high school, and are college students in New York who return to Ohio for spring break to volunteer for Bernie Sanders’ campaign. Meet cute entails! 

Gift with Purchase by @lady-divine-writes

To prepare for a big audition, Tina takes Blaine to Sephora for a little freshening up, where Blaine meets the sales associate of his dreams. 

Got A Sweet Tooth For You by @hazelandglasz

anonymous asked:I have one I have one! So, it’s AU. Blaine is scared to go to dentist (feel you, bb) and his tooth hurts more and more everyday. So finally, he mans up and goes. And meets the sexiest dentist ever.

Here Comes The Sun Salutation by @invisibleraven

Blaine has a work mandate to lower his stress levels by attending a yoga class. Which he goes to straight from work in a suit… 

Here to fix all of your problems by @fictionallylost

Rachel calls for a handyman to come and fix her and Kurt’s loft’s heating problems, then leaves Kurt home alone to await the assistance. Who do you think comes to his rescue? ;)

Hold Onto The Handrail by @antarcticbird

hazelandglasz prompted: the subway brakes too strongly and bam, au meeting ? 

If These Pages Could Tell A Story by @controlofwhatido

Isabelle Wright has written another book and is about to go on tour with it. Kurt’s job, as her assistant, is to make sure every location is up to speed with Isabelle’s requests. When Kurt e-mails Anderson’s Bookshop, he certainly doesn’t expect their correspondence to go past the first couple perfunctory responses…

Instant Boyfriend by @scrapmom2112

One minute Kurt is having coffee and minding his own business and the next he has a boyfriend…what? AU. Just another way for Kurt and Blaine to meet, and it’s at the Lima Bean, of course.

Kink(O)s by @hazelandglasz

Prompt : one of them want to print something, maybe a calendar with hot guys and the other one is the hot printer? 

Let It Snow by @antarcticbird

Snowed in at an airport on the 24th of December, with no cell phone reception and Cooper + family for company. 

Love Shack by @hkvoyage

On a sweltering hot summer’s evening, Kurt discovers a new cheesecake bakery in his Bushwick neighborhood. He soon realizes the true meaning of Valentine’s Day. An alternative meeting, written for the 2016 Klaine Valentines Challenge on Tumblr.

Night Work by @honeysucklepink

This was written for the KBL Reversebang Hiatus Challenge. I got a photo of a dog with a pumpkin and three items/things to include in my story: “Pharmacy,” “Sweats (clothing),” and “Stars.” And then on top of that I got awesome art from Jen (homemadedarkmark)! Thanks Jen! Also thanks to kurtswish for the beta. This is a simple “meet-cute,” hope you enjoy (in spite of it being Halloween-themed while way past Halloween)! 

Of BFF’s and Shoes by @a-simple-rainbow

I decided to mesh together a fuckload of tropes/prompts. From the text to the wrong number, to meeting in an elevator. Mostly it’s funny and stupid. Apologies to anyone who likes high heeled converse all stars. 

Of Sad Movies and Kind Strangers by @hadelli

Kurt’s week couldn’t get any worse.Because is there anything more pathetic than crying in a movie theatre, alone?Probably not, right?Right??

On Boundaries and Harvard Law by @klaineanummel

Burt gives Kurt’s number to a total stranger.

Overcoming a Break-Up by @mailroomorder

Kurt knows what it’s like to lose a nicely tailored jacket in the city, and he wouldn’t want that to happen to someone else. So when someone leaves their jacket at the restaurant Kurt works at, he figures the least he can do is return it to its rightful owner. Even if said owner did dine and dash, forcing Kurt to pay his bill.

Overcoming Gravity by @alilactree

From @prompt-a-klainefic:

I just discovered that you can buy vibrators at the airport, but while i was trying to load my bag into the overhead compartment on the plane, it fell out and landed right in your lap.

Poke-Klaine by @nightingale63

AU where Blaine went to NYADA but Kurt went to FIT (and Kurt never went to Dalton). A fun, fluffy meet-cute – enjoy!

Raspberry Rain by @lovetheblazer

kurt-and-blaine-anderhummel prompted: I haven’t slept in like 3 days everything is funny and your hair smells really good (where Kurt is the one that hasn’t slept and Blaine sits next to him in class and he keeps leaning his head on Blaine’s shoulder and keeps telling Blaine that his hair smells good from his scented hair gel). Klaine Alternative Meeting AU

Return to Sender by @skivvysupreme

Kurt’s shifts at the Spotlight Diner keep turning into complete trainwrecks, and it’s all the hot UPS guy’s fault. Sort of. (Though, in all fairness, Kurt has always had a certain weakness for men in uniforms.) 

Tell Me All Your Secrets by @lady-divine-writes

After being cheated on by his boyfriend for the tenth time, Kurt comes home, ready to surrender to a good cry and sleep. But when he can’t sleep, he checks his voice mail and finds a bunch of drunken messages from a wrong number, but his mysterious caller might be the answer to getting over his scumbag ex.

The Bookshelf by @klainjel

In which Blaine stumbles into a bookstore in search of a birthday present and finds so much more 

The Concert Experience by BlurtItAllOut

Wes and David have a spare concert ticket, and asks Blaine to tag along. He may not be so very interested in the headliner, but there are others to feast his eyes on. This will be a concert experience to remember. 

The Effects of Cookies on Shy Teenagers by @musiclovingbitch

ADJACENT STANDS AT THE FARMER’S MARKET AU

The Man With The Hippo-Head Brooch by @borogroves

A passing encounter on the London Underground leaves Blaine trying to track down a beautiful stranger.

Welcome to the New Age by @itspartofmyjealousy

A love story told through NYADA’s Snapchat

What Dreams Are Made Of by @bluecloudsupabove/ca_te

Just when Kurt thought New York couldn’t get more perfect, he stumbled upon Blaine.

[winterbaby89]

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter One

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89 

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter, here is the Prologue

Chapter One

Twenty-Eight years later…

The incessant beep of the alarm was finally quieted by his outstretched hand. He wasn’t even sure why he bothered to set the infernal thing. He’d risen with the sun for… well, for as long as he could remember; a habit he’s never understood, nor been able to break.

Killian Jones crawled out of his overly large king sized bed and started his morning routine. The same routine he’d done every morning since… well, nevermind.

While showering he mentally ran through his daily itinerary; who to visit for rent money, who to visit to threaten about past due rent, which threats to make good on, and what supplies he would need to collect to continue work on his one true love, his ship the Jewel.

As one of the largest landowners in town, with approximately half of Storybrooke’s deeds in his name, just about everyone in town had dealings with Mr. Jones. Some more amicable than others. But being the town landlord, amongst other, less savory, occupations took its toll, so in an effort to balance the stress of day-to-day life, Killian made time for one gratifying outlet, as well as one vice.

Restoring the old mid-century brig in the harbor was Killian’s one true passion, while his free supply of top shelf rum from The Rabbit Hole’s proprietor was his solace.

Drying off after his shower, Killian subconsciously rubbed his right forearm with the niggling feeling that something was missing. Putting the strange thought from his mind, what could possibly be missing, he dressed and vacated his expansive home. Some in town referred to it as the Jones Manor, as it exceeded even Mayor Mills’ mansion in style and grandeur.

It was a fine day. The late October weather had just begun to turn a bit too crisp, but still offered that pleasant cozy autumn feel, so he opted to make his way on foot to his first stop of the day - Granny’s. Always Granny’s. Everyday, without fail, Killian found himself on that familiar path to the local diner. Sometimes for business, but mostly for coffee, and to make his presence known to the townsfolk that he’d started his daily rounds. This morning was no different than any other.

In fact, most mornings were no different, he mused briefly. The same house, the same ocean, the same walk from the private bluff his home, and one other house, which currently stood vacant occupied, the same people, the same activities. Everything was much the same from one day to the next, which was probably what made the sight of the Mills lad peddling like mad down Main Street stick out in such sharp contrast to everything else occurring around Killian.

The lad must have missed the bus, Killian reasoned. Strange. It’s not like Henry to be running late for school. I’ll have to remember to ask him about it later when we meet at the Jewel.

Henry Mills.

The one bright spot in Killian’s otherwise dark and lonely existence. A good lad, despite his insufferable mother’s upbringing, and one that Killian had taken quite a shine to the moment he’d caught him on the Jewel all those years ago. The lad had been what, seven, eight at the time? Hard to remember…

Henry was quite possibly the only person who ever sought out Killian’s company, and didn’t seem the least bit put off by the salty, old, sea dog’s moods or reputation. To be fair, Killian wasn’t sure just how much the lad was privy to when it came to his dealings around town. Nevertheless, something about Henry Mills had immediately endeared itself to Killian and he now found himself with a ten-year-old sized shadow following him about each day as he imparted all manner of sailing and other knowledge to the lad.

The hours spent with Henry were the best of Killian’s day, but they always came with a price. For inevitably it would be time for the lad to say his good-byes, and once again Killian would find himself alone, with only his demons to keep him company. This was usually about the time he’d make his way to The Rabbit Hole and attempt to drown said demons with a bottle of rum - the aforementioned vice.

Everyday. Always the same.

Except today it seemed. For not only had Henry apparently missed the bus to school, but he didn’t join Killian on the Jewel afterward.

If it didn’t mean that he’d have to actually engage with the boy’s mother, Mayor Regina Mills, Killian would have called to check up on the lad. However, he was rather certain that Regina had no idea where her son spent his afternoons, outside of the odd therapy session with Dr. Hopper, and Killian did not want to expose their meetings; both to protect Henry, and, more selfishly, prevent the loss of the boy’s camaraderie.

Though he was anxious something dire might have happened to prevent the boy from seeking their standing afternoon engagement, Killian was more tormented by the thought that Henry had opted not to come of his own accord. Killian would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t occurred to him that one day Henry would learn the truth of just who Killian Jones was - unsavory and corrupt landowner, emotionally bankrupt shell of a man, ruthless scoundrel, and would wish nothing more to do with him.

Henry had once jokingly called Killian a pirate, fixating on the more romanticized and white-washed aspects of such characters, but Killian knew he’d done his fair share of pillaging and plundering in this god-forsaken town to earn him just such a moniker - or worse.

It was with that trepidation - Henry’s absence that day might be because the lad had finally come to his senses about the company he keeps - that Killian found himself once again in the corner booth of The Rabbit Hole, nursing his bottle of rum with a new demon added to the haunting. As Killian contemplated this new demon added to the fold, he realized there were a number of new and strange occurrences that day, other than just the additional specter. Henry missing the bus and peddling down Main Street. Henry missing their afternoon lesson. And that flash of yellow he’d caught out of the corner of his eye as he’d turned towards The Hole, a flash of yellow that had disappeared when he’d looked back to see whose car it was. He can’t remember ever seeing a vehicle of that shade before.

These notions were still plaguing him the next morning as he made his way to Granny’s once again, with new thoughts to add to his musings.

Parking his motorcycle out front, Killian made his way into the diner for a quick breakfast. The Sheriff had contacted him first thing that morning about the damage to the town sign, a ‘gift’ he’d donated to the town long ago. After his meal, he planned to meet Marco, Storybrooke’s handyman, out there, to discuss the repair costs. It seemed, however, that fortune would save him that trek out to the town line, as the man in question was currently conversing with the town shrink in one of the diner’s booths.

Killian approached the pair, but then hesitated as he heard Henry’s name mentioned.

“I saw him late last night. He said he’d been on a field trip and forgot to tell me, but I know that isn’t true… then there was that strange woman with him. Henry said she was-”

“Can we help you, Mr. Jones?” Marco interrupted, cutting off his friend’s concern about the boy.

No matter, though. The lad was safe, and that was all that mattered to Killian. Whether he’d been honest about the field trip or not, Killian was bolstered by the fact that it hadn’t just been him that Henry had avoided yesterday. Whatever was going on with the lad didn’t seem to have anything to do with Killian personally, and he was sure he’d get the full story from Henry later that day, now that he knew the lad wasn’t avoiding him.

“Aye, Marco,” Killian answered as he pulled up a seat to join the men - much to their dismay. “The Sheriff phoned me this morning about the accident at the town sign. Have you been out to survey the damage yet this morning?”

“Not yet, Mr. Jones,” the old man answered nervously. “I was heading out there just after breakfast. You’ll be joining me, I assume?”

“I’m a busy man, Marco. I’ve no time for these trivial matters, so let’s you and I come to an agreement here and now, shall we?” He posed the question, though he did not wait for the man’s agreement before he continued. “I will pay cost for all the supplies and materials, and my usual flat rate for the labor. I expect the work to be done by week’s end or a twenty percent discount will be applied to the final bill. Do we have a deal?” For some reason that last word made Killian cringe internally. It always had.

“W-week’s end?” Marco stammered incredulously. “Mr. Jones, sir, I cannot possibly have the sign fixed by-”

“Oh, I have faith in you Marco,” Killian offered in mocked support. “It’s either that, or I amend the lease agreement that’s about to come due on your shop. What do you say? Ten, fifteen percent increase in rent?”

“Now, Mr. Jones, be reasonable,” Dr. Hopper interjected.

“I don’t think this concerns you, mate,” Killian countered darkly. “But if you’d like to talk about the terms of your particular lease agreement, I’m only too happy to oblige.”

The men sat silent before him, bested and helpless against such power and authority.

Killian offered them an empty smile as he stood and took his leave. “Pleasure as always, mates,” he called out over his shoulder exiting the diner. The thought of breakfast was long forgotten as he started his motorcycle and headed towards the docks.

Just as he rounded the corner from Main Street to the road leading to the marina, that flash of yellow caught his periphery once more. A yellow Volkswagen was parked in the city impound lot. A yellow Volkswagen that Killian was sure did not belong to anyone residing within Storybrooke. Curious.

Hours later Killian still couldn’t shake off the unease and… something else he couldn’t quite put his finger on, regarding all the strange occurrences that had happened the past two days. Henry had once again failed to join him on the Jewel, and Killian had resolved to seek out the lad to try and ascertain just what the blazes was going on.

A man could only take so many disruptions to his otherwise orderly existence, after all.

Killian had just crested the berm that overlooked Henry’s castle when he saw the lad heading off in the opposite direction with someone. A blonde someone. A female, blonde someone, as a matter of fact.

His brow twitched toward his hairline as he wondered who the woman might be. Even as he mentally thumbed through his mind’s rolodex of every blonde lass in town, he knew none quite matched the figure retreating in the distance.

An unexpected conflict rose within Killian. If he didn’t know himself better he’d almost call it jealousy. He supposed he ought to be glad the boy had another person in this world that cared for him - if the stranger’s arm draped over the lad’s shoulders held any indication of such a regard. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit slighted that whatever Henry was facing, he hadn’t chosen to confide in him. Unwilling to examine those feelings any further than he already had, or at all, he decided it was the perfect time to call it a day and find his booth in the dark corner of The Rabbit Hole, with a bottle or two to keep him company, and the demons at bay.

Emma watched as Henry ran past Regina, going inside and disappearing upstairs.

“He seems to have taken quite a shine to you,” Regina said, with a vapid smile and an insincere air of civility.

“You know what’s kind of crazy?” Emma began, overwhelmed by the events of the last twenty-four hours, and trying to make sense of this curve ball life had thrown her way. “Yesterday was my birthday, and when I blew out the candle on this cupcake I bought myself, I actually made a wish. I wished I didn’t have to be alone on my birthday. And then, Henry showed up.” Emma stuck her hands in her back pockets and settled back onto her heels, as she continued to ponder the coincidence of Henry’s timing.

“I hope there’s no misunderstanding here,” Regina commented, pulling Emma from her thoughts.

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t mistake all this as an invitation back into his life.”

“Oh…”

“Miss Swan, you made a decision ten years ago. And in the last decade, while you’ve been… well, who knows what you’ve been doing.”

Regina’s thinly veiled speculation and disapproval caused Emma’s brows to shoot up in offense.

“I’ve changed every diaper. Soothed every fever. Endured every tantrum. You may have given birth to him, but he is my son.”

“I wasn’t…”

“No!” Regina interrupted harshly. “You don’t get to speak. You don’t get to do anything. You gave up that right when you tossed him away. Do you know what a closed adoption is? It’s what you asked for. You have no legal right to Henry and you’re going to be held to that. So, I suggest you get in your car, and you leave this town. Because if you don’t, I will destroy you if it is the last thing I do. Goodbye, Miss Swan.” Turning on her stilettoed heel, Regina headed back to the house, but Emma called after her before she managed to shut the door.

“Do you love him?”

“Excuse me?” Regina looked up with a sneer on her perfectly painted face.

“Henry. Do you love him?”

“Of course I love him.”

Emma Swan hadn’t been given much in her life, but one thing she’d come to rely on was her gift of sensing when someone was lying to her. She called it her superpower and although it wasn’t pinging per se, something about this entire interaction, hell, this entire town, just wasn’t sitting right with her. With Regina all but shutting the door in her face, effectively ending their conversation, Emma got back in the bug and pulled away from the curb.

Oh great, a headache, I’m too sober for this shit, she thought sardonically as she tried to remember the way back to the one bar she’d seen in town.

As Emma was driving down Main Street, she took in the names of a few of the businesses she passed on her way to the bar. “Game of Thorns, Dark Star Pharmacy, Any Given Sundae, where in hell have I landed myself?” she muttered. Finally, reaching her destination, she looked up at the decrepit sign attached to the side of the building, “The Rabbit Hole, seriously? Well, this town does seem to be on drugs, why not shrooms, too?” Parking her bug in the lot out back Emma decided to go in and see about that drink.

Upon first glance the place was dark and kind of dank. With a rowdy group near the pool tables, she made a beeline for the far end of the bar, to a corner slightly more shadowed than the rest. Thankfully she wasn’t even completely situated on her barstool before the bartender was asking her, “What’s your poison sweetheart?”

“Rum, straight up, make it a double.”

“Oooh, the lady knows what she likes… I like it.”

“Not interested Romeo, just pour the drink, or I’ll get it myself.”

“Feisty. Well, if I can do you for anything else sweetheart, just yell for me. Name’s Will.”

Seated in the far corner of the bar, Killian nursed his nightly rum. He sat in the same booth as always, the one with the burnt out bulb that never seemed to get replaced, but Killian didn’t mind, he found solace in the rum and darkness.

He’d been brooding in his seat for the better part of an hour when the door swung open admitting what could only be an angel; at least, that’s what the more fanciful part of his brain perceived as the setting sun illuminated an almost ethereal glow around her golden tresses and continued the aura down the length of her lithe body. Curiosity piqued, he watched as the beautiful blonde walked in and situated herself on the barstool closest to his booth.

Killian was certain he had never seen her before, certain he could never forget a woman that beautiful. But, nobody comes to Storybrooke, ever. Who is this woman and what has brought her here to me? To me? What the bloody hell has gotten into me? Killian continued to study her over the rim of his glass as she sat and ordered a rum, not taking any of Will’s shite, and giving it right back as good as she got. Smirking to himself, Killian decided he just might like this tough lass.

Emma nursed her rum while thinking about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, from Henry finding her in Boston, to the car ride back to Storybrooke, Maine. I mean Storybrooke, come on… When her mind landed on Regina and her threats, the subtle, and not so subtle, Emma slammed back the rest of her drink and signaled Will, the smart-ass bartender, for another. When he brought her the next round he had the decency to keep the innuendo to himself.

So absorbed in her mental back and forth about what would be best for Henry - should she stay, should she go - Emma didn’t realize someone had slid onto the barstool next to her, until they cleared their throat. Startled, she looked up and was overcome by the man before her, in a word, Emma was fuckstruck. Who knew that was an actual thing? she mused, this man is gorgeous.

“Didn’t mean to intrude love, but did I happen to see you with the Mill’s lad on the beach earlier?”

Fuck me, an accent too? Wait… what’s he want with Henry? “Possibly. Why would it be any concern of yours?” As she asked, she sized up the stranger next to her, who seemed a touch too interested in Henry for her comfort. He was the gorgeous, dark, and brooding type, all leather clad with charms on a chain around his neck. Is that an anchor, and a compass? A couple of rings adorned the fingers of both hands, with a notably vacant left ring finger... How is this man single? Guyliner? He really is going for the bad boy persona isn’t he, and… it works for him… get it together, Emma. As she finished her assessment of her tall, dark, and accented bar fellow her eyes made their way back to his face, noting the lifted eyebrow, and unrestrained smirk.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Something pique your interest there, lass?”

Emma rolled her eyes at his attempted flirting.

“As I said. Henry’s a good lad, and he’s been having a rough go of it lately. I’ve been concerned about him.”

“And how does someone like…” Emma waved the hand unoccupied by her current drink up and down to encompass his person, “you, know Henry?”

“Small town lass, everyone knows everyone, yet, I don’t know you,” the man stated with a teasing quirk of his brow.

Emma smirked at his response, and the ploy to get her name. “That’s because I’m not from around here. Actually, I’m Henry’s birth mom.” Slightly uncomfortable at her unexpected admission to this handsome stranger, Emma decided it was a good idea to gulp down about half of her still mostly full drink.  Why did I tell him that?

“Ah. I see. I take it the boy found you, and persuaded you to come here?” Killian pressed, even as he tried to hide his astonishment that the boy had actually taken his advice on the matter.

Knowing how miserable Henry had been recently, working himself up into believing that his entire life was the result of some sort of curse, Killian had suggested learning more about his beginnings, as it might offer him some solace. Good advice it seemed, if the evidence of such a lovely creature before him was any indication.

“Something like that. I just brought him back, it’s not like I’m staying.”

“Now that is a shame…”

“Really? You’ve known me all of two minutes, how do you know that Henry isn’t better off with me gone?”

“Because love, I’ve seen his upbringing thus far, and it leaves much to be desired.”

The lass’s face crumpled at that revelation. “I had hoped when I gave him up he’d have a great life,” she confessed in a despondent tone.

“Well, you’re here now, what say you? A toast? To Henry, and giving the lad his best chance?”

Emma was taken aback by his choice of words. Hearing her justification parroted back to her by a stranger, had her reeling as she heard him continue, “I’m happy the lad has another person in town in his corner.”

“Who says I’m staying?” Emma bit out somewhat harshly.

He just gave her a knowing smirk, “If you weren’t you’d have left by now.”

Emma crossed her arms defensively over her chest as she retorted, “Oh, really? You think you know me so well?”

“Well, love. You are something of an open book.”

“Ugh. If I never hear another word about books it’ll be too soon.”

“Oh? Would you be referring to the lad’s story book then… and the curse?”

Emma looked back at him with a critical eye and wondered who Henry believed this cursed man really was.

Wait, no, there isn’t a curse. “You really don’t seem cursed to me.”

“Well love, you’ve only known me a few minutes, give it some time, and you’ll probably change your mind.”

“I can tell you what cursed is,” she muttered with a hint of self-depreciation and loneliness in her voice.

“Not having someone.” She heard him say.

Emma’s eyes snapped to his and she saw a spark of recognition at the loneliness she had been attempting to tamp down ever since she blew out that stupid birthday candle.

“That’s the worst curse of all, isn’t it?” he finished, and the look that broke across her face must have cemented to him that he’d hit his mark with his words as he offered her an empathetic smile.

She gaped at him realizing just how painfully accurate that statement truly was. That realization made her think that this could be her chance to finally have someone want her, Henry came looking for her after all. They both sat there for a moment, introspectively, before Emma finally spoke, “Can I get you another drink Mr.?”

“Where are my manners? We haven’t been formally introduced. Jones. Killian Jones,” he offered, hand extended before him, which she accepted as she replied.

“Swan. Emma Swan.”

Killian felt his grip tighten slightly around her hand as something inside him shifted, and without coherent thought as to why, he heard himself declare, “Emma. What a lovely name,” even as visions overtook him. Visions that told of another life - his life - and brought forth a surge of panic that he quickly tried to squelch as Emma looked for Will to order them another round.

“Actually, love, I’m afraid I must decline,” he said, hastily leaving his seat.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” he assured quickly, not wishing to appear as if anything was amiss. “I’ve just remembered… something, and I want to see to it before I forget again.”

“Alright, well… see you around, Jones.” She flashed him a smile that confirmed her decision to stick around for a while.

“Aye. Welcome to Storybrooke, love.” Killian managed to offer the sentiment with a reasonable amount of genuineness before he exited the bar, but as he met the brisk night air panic enveloped him once more. Attempting to calm his racing pulse and labored breathing, Killian looked up into the night sky and noticed an astonishing sight.

It now read 8:16 on the clock tower.  

Chapter 2

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @downeystarkjr @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @ilovemesomekillianjones @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @teamhook @ultraluckycatnd @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain