#csrt

[ohmightydevviepuu]

fanbinding: our little life (rounded with a sleep)

my signature fic. our little life (rounded with a sleep) is a project i originally began in 2018, but abandoned as i realized i didn't yet have the support or ideas i needed to see it through the way i wanted to. in 2019, i signed up for the @captainswanbigbang Rewrite-a-Thon, a decision that ended up being a fateful one for me. (more on this in a later post)

but for now, let's discuss the binding. the cover is a modified paper casing i learned from sarah nicholls at the NYC Center for Book Arts. her original design (detailed in Bookforms, A Complete Guide to Designing and Crafting Hand-Bound Books) is based on an elaborate folded paper apparatus cased in paper, modified from a limp vellum style. i (perhaps?) went a bit overboard here in making the casing out of folded faux leather bookcloth with a longstitch-inspired spine. the textblock is sewn with a combination coptic/french link so that it opens completely flat, allowing flaps that slide into the case to be inserted or removed for ease of reading. the concept was intended to evoke a ye olde style booke appropriate for a fairy tale.

but. BUT. let's talk about this art. for my birthday, as a gift to myself, i commissioned the brilliant @camii-artt to draw characters inspired by scenes from the fic. i built the entire typeset around her work and it was completely worth it--everything about the style evokes the hard-boiled detective vibe of the fic, from the angles to the colors to the facial expressions.

this fic is, truly, the stuff that dreams are made of. (and this is only binding version #1)

[i-scavenger]

Metal rolling cart found outside a dumpster enclosure.

[presidentshoelaces]

[nekomaiddennis]

Can you draw Dennis Reynolds from Dennis Reynolds Always Sunny (its) in Philadelphia and he's in the store and he has a csrt full of wonder bread, and this can be any store also, and he's shoveling wonder bread into his already full cart in copious amounts and he's remarking how the price has gone up but he can afford such a luxury because he loves white bread sandwiches on wonder bread with mayo and that he has plenty of money thanks to Frank's new logging business clearing 70 acres in the Amazon and he's planning to have a wonder bread picnic with Mac and he's buying more wonder bread for his picnic with Mac and I think he should look either very smug or slightly coquettish and blushing from the indulgence of purchasing several dozen maybe hundred loaves of wonder bread? I think also he should say that Dee can't afford it because she's a bird? Charlie can be here but he can't have any of the wonder bread or white bread at all.

do you people see what I have to put up with

[grox]

What do you do if there were like those youtube predator hunters trying to catch some guy in your area but hes smart so he uses pics of someone else and they just happen to be you, and he agrees to meet the decoy at walmart on the day you just so happen to be grocery shopping, and they see you with like a csrt full of poop items you knoe like you bought all your vegetables and fruits and meats the other day youre here for poptarts and liquor and chicken nuggets anf candy now, and theyre like, youre here to meet a 12 year old boy. And youre buying candy you fat fucking pedophile and all you can do is look aeound like huh? Theyre so mean too like theyre like ripping into your outfit theyre calling your shoes raggedy your breath stinks you got dandruff

[pseudodog]

i was trying to suck the last of the oil out of my csrt last night and i was hitting that shit so hard my vision kept going black

[franthonyofficial]

WHO BOUGHT THE DRESS OUT OF MY CSRT

[daddymikeyway]

I’m going to brag here because I’m very excited. I got an email from the director of the CSRT for the state I work for requesting to set up an interview for one of their positions!! Can’t believe I worked my ass off to get this clerical adjacent job to only be employed here for 3 months before getting an interview within the same agency lmao. I’m rambling because I’m very excited. Like shit, this is what I went to college for!!

[palletsinchichester]

Effective Damp Proofing and Basement Waterproofing Solutions in Kent

Damp proofing and basement waterproofing are essential services for maintaining the structural integrity of properties in Kent. These services protect homes from various forms of damp, including rising damp, penetrating damp, and the damage caused by wet and dry rot. Whether you are looking to safeguard your basement from water intrusion or address damp issues in the main structure of your home, it's important to understand the benefits and processes involved. Comprehensive Damp Surveys A thorough damp survey is the first step toward identifying potential problems in your property. Conducted by CSRT-qualified surveyors, the survey helps to detect damp issues, assess their extent, and recommend appropriate treatments. One of the common problems detected is rising damp, a condition frequently seen in older properties. This occurs when moisture travels upward through the building’s masonry, often due to a failed or nonexistent damp-proof course (DPC). If left untreated, it can lead to significant structural damage. Tackling Rising Damp Rising damp usually involves moisture traveling through bricks and mortar via capillary action. As this moisture evaporates, it leaves behind salt deposits, which further attract moisture from the atmosphere, preventing the wall from fully drying. Over time, this process can weaken walls and damage other building elements such as wood and plaster. Effective damp proofing treatments, such as installing a new DPC or addressing salt contamination, are vital to stop rising damp in its tracks and prevent further deterioration. Wet and Dry Rot Solutions Damp environments create the perfect conditions for fungal growth, which leads to wet and dry rot. These fungi can cause serious damage to timber, resulting in the weakening of structural components. Left unchecked, rot can spread to adjoining materials, including plaster and brick. Identifying and treating these problems promptly is crucial, as the longer they persist, the more severe the damage becomes. Professional treatments focus on eradicating the dampness and restoring the affected timber. Addressing Penetrative Dampness Penetrative damp occurs when water infiltrates a building horizontally, usually due to issues like faulty rainwater systems or damaged external walls. Buildings without cavity walls are especially susceptible to this form of damp. Symptoms include discolored patches on walls, ceilings, and floors, as well as weakened plaster. Repairs to external masonry, rainwater systems, and proper ventilation can resolve most cases of penetrating damp. Ensuring the internal fabric of the building is properly dried is essential to prevent further damage. Basement Waterproofing in Kent Waterproofing basements is critical for protecting these areas from water intrusion, which can lead to mold growth, structural decay, and damage to belongings. Several waterproofing methods are commonly used, such as cavity drain membrane systems (CDM) and cementitious multi-coat systems. CDM systems help manage water by channeling it away from your basement, often to a sump pump system. Cementitious systems create a waterproof barrier on basement walls to prevent water ingress. Benefits of basement waterproofing Kent 1. Increase Property Value: A waterproofed basement provides a healthy, usable living space, adding value and functionality to your home. 2. Energy Efficiency: A properly waterproofed basement retains heat better, reducing the energy required to maintain a comfortable indoor environment. 3. Healthier Living Environment: Preventing moisture in basements stops the growth of mold and mildew, contributing to a healthier living space for your family. By investing in professional damp proofing Kent and basement waterproofing services, you ensure your home remains protected from the potentially devastating effects of dampness and water intrusion.

[acid-gramma]

askm gozlemcinin olmasi tabii ki bilgiyi deistircek nalaka zamanla fln anlayamadm pek. basta ben de algilamayip yuh cok enteresan demistm fakat sonralarinda soyle boyle arastirmalar csrt curt bisiler cikti. ben gozlemciysem benden yayilan enerji fotonun yayilimini etkilio artik noluyo da etkiliyo fiziksel kimyasal aciklamasini hatirlamiom vla sonuc olarak fotonlarin beyni yok 😀😀

bosver guzel kardesim yorma sen kafani

[ohmightydevviepuu]

fanbinding: a second version of our little life (rounded with a sleep), plus some thoughts on fandom and Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day

the story: i found in my tumblr drafts an ask about this story, a hard-boiled detective noir AU retelling of the first season of OUAT.

a lot of the first half of the story came to me very quickly and very easily, especially during the rewrite draft, because i had already done some work with @thisonesatellite to brainstorm about what might be expanded and i already had about 18k to work with.  

i got stuck about halfway through, caught up in my own writer bullshit, but @wistfulcynic kindly stepped up and freed me from that with a couple of simple, pointed plot questions while the group in the CSRT discord helped me unlock a few ideas about the specifics of the dreams.

as for the ending...was directly influenced by a project that @distant-rose and @justanotherwannabeclassic were working on that they kindly shared with me. 

the binding: sewn boards covered in Duo Oatmeal bookcloth. lineco bookcloth spine piece, hand embroidered for decoration. painted by me in a buttercup motif. paste-painted endpapers from Madeleine's Paste Papers on etsy. art by @camii-artt.

i mentioned in the earlier post about how joining the @captainswanbigbang CSRT in august of 2019, to work on finishing the fic of my heart, was a fateful decision for me. boy howdy was it. i had no idea what i was getting into--the people, the community--they were just names i'd seen on so many amazing fics. i had no idea what events were like or what the group chat would be like but i jumped in with both feet. it was the timing, you see. august is (for Reasons) a very difficult month for me and the idea of grasping on to this Thing was a joyful and a hopeful one.

so we embarked, as a group, on this writing project together. comments, questions, discussions about show canon turned into pet photos and vacation photos and late nights. we entered lockdowns together. watched one, two, three babies come into the world. new jobs. new houses. election night(s) 2020. insurrection day 2021. new year's eve parties, cocktail hours, bake-off, video game lobbies. in-person meetings. vacations. and so many nights spent writing together.

all because we wanted the same two fictional characters to kiss.

holding this fic in my hand is a wonderous thing because it literally would not exist without these people.

happy FFWAD to my CSRT/IAS fam. you're everything.

@wistfulcynic @thisonesatellite @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @shireness-says @idoltina @initiala @phiralovesloki @thejollyroger-writer

[paranoyaklastim]

KENDİ KAFAMA YUMRUK ATTİM AZ İNCE VE SU AN ŞİŞTİ BU NASİL MUMKUN OLABİLİR HANİ BEYNİM8ZİN HAYATTA KALMA MEKANİZMASİ CSRT CURT BİSİYİ VARDİ

[samdamp]

Preservation and insulation work with some plastering thrown in. 27mm thermal plus plasterboards fixed with Drygrip give a host of be if it’s to this cold bridging solid wall full of damp wall paper and black mould. They had a professional survey carried out first by a qualified CSRT surveyor and a report on what the issues were. They choose this system in the short term. Not All Damp Is Rising. dampsam@damptimbersurveys.com (at Barnsley) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqIvMYtNE3_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[dampsurvey23]

We offer a wide range of survey services including land surveys, topographic surveys, and geospatial surveys. Our team of experienced surveyors uses the latest technology to ensure accurate and reliable results.

Visit:- https://www.damp2drysolutions.co.uk/services/damp-survey/

[let-it-raines]

What a Wicked Game {15/15}

Killian met her in a pub on a rainy night in March. Going inside was only supposed to be a way for him to avoid the rain and fight off the demons in his head. It was a place for him to pass through, not stay. But then he was charmed by a blonde woman with a quick wit who had absolutely no interest in him or who he was.

That was a first. It was also the beginning of Emma Nolan helping to bring him back to life. It was the beginning of everything.

Five years later, with their worlds crumbling around them, Killian can’t help but wonder if this is the end of the peace they have known now that his family knows about his relationship. It wouldn’t be a problem if his father wasn’t the King of England.

rating: mature

a/n: thank you to @captainswanbigbang for running this event and letting me write this story, to @resident-of-storybrooke for plotting and listening to me talk and for reading this, like, four times while never complaining, to @captainsjedi for making all of the incredible art for it and writing the sweetest tags, and to @wellhellotragic for finding the original story over on ao3 years ago and supporting me then and still supporting me now ❤️

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

-/-

February 2021

His heart is in his throat.

It’s been that way for several hours now, and at some point, Killian should probably get that checked out by a medical professional who can assure him that he’s not going to die and that his heart will return to his chest and beat at a normal rate again.

He is in a hospital, after all, so there’s likely someone who can help him out.

“Killian, you have to stop clenching your fist.”

“I’m not clenching my fist.”

“Literally, look down at your hand.”

Killian blinks before looking down at his hands. His right is tangled with Emma’s, his grip stronger than it should be, while his left is, indeed, balled into a fist on her mattress.

Oh.

Sighing, Killian unclenches his first before loosening his grip on Emma and leaning forward to press his lips against her knuckles. “I’m sorry, love. I - fuck. I really don’t mean to be so dramatic, but you fainted out of nowhere just as we were about to leave to go home, and I’m terrified that something awful is wrong with you.”

Emma’s hand pushes into his hair, scratching at his scalp, and he shouldn’t be the one who is being comforted right now. He should be comforting Emma. She’s the one who is in a hospital bed waiting on the results of all of the tests they ran on her, and while he knows she likely had low blood sugar and a lack of sleep from the hectic schedule of their tour, he cannot help but think of all of the horrendous things that could be wrong with his wife.

He loves her in sickness and in health, always, but God, he hopes she’s alright. He can’t live without her, which is so damn selfish to think, but this is where they are now.

(And he can be selfish when it comes to wanting Emma to be alright.)

It’s nothing. It has to be nothing.

“I’m fine,” Emma promises, but he knows she doesn’t actually know, not yet. “It’s been a crazy week with no sleep, and I skipped meals, which was stupid. It’s probably low blood sugar or exhaustion or something else I can fix when we get home and have some time off.”

“But you don’t know that.”

“I mean, I could be dying, but I didn’t think that’s what you wanted me to say.”

“Swan - ”

Emma huffs and rolls her eyes at him. “I’m fine until the doctor says otherwise because I pretty much refuse for something to be wrong with me.”

Killian nods and leans down to press his lips against her knuckles once more. He understands. He refuses for something to be wrong with her too. They’ve already spent too much time in their lives with Emma in a hospital, and he doesn’t want to keep doing this.

“Good afternoon, Your Highnesses,” Dr. Roberts sing-songs as she walks back into the room. He has no idea if this woman is always this peppy or if maybe this is her way of saying there’s nothing wrong with Emma before she actually says it. If there is something wrong, Dr. Roberts really has to work on how she speaks. “So, I have some good news.”

Killian perks up, while Emma stays sitting as she was, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles. “What is it?”

“Well, you’re fine,” Dr. Roberts continues, her smile bright as ever, “and so is your baby.”

“Oh thank God,” Killian sighs, leaning forward again. He’d truly convinced himself that something awful was wrong, but Emma is fine. She’s fine.

“I’m sorry,” Emma mumbles, “did you just say I’m pregnant?”

What?

“I did.”

Pregnant.

“I cannot be pregnant.”

Emma is pregnant.

How did he not hear that part?

“You are most definitely pregnant, Your Highness.”

How is Emma pregnant?

“You just told me I apparently have a baby in my uterus. You can call me Emma.”

Is he going to be a dad? Is Emma going to be a mum?

Killian’s head shoots up from where it’s buried against Emma’s hand to quickly look at her and her slack-jawed expression before looking at Dr. Roberts.

The doctor nods before looking between the two of them, and Killian stops staring a hole into her eyes to turn to look back at his wife who is apparently carrying their child. He feels like the biggest asshole in the world because he can’t seem to form coherent thoughts and should probably be having some kind of poetic thought about what this is going to mean to him, to the both of them.

Killian may be a little shocked.

The fact that Emma is too makes him feel a hell of a lot better.

“Emma,” Dr. Roberts sighs, “I think I’ll give the two of you some time to yourselves to talk since I seem to have shared some rather big news. Just know that both you and your baby are fine, but you need to make sure that you’re not overexerting yourself. You fainted because of a lack of sleep, proper nutrition, and your pregnancy.”

“Thank you,” Killian manages to mutter out while his thumb caresses Emma’s knuckles and Dr. Roberts walks out of the room. The moment the door closes, Killian leans down to kiss Emma’s hand before looking up at her. “Penny for your thoughts, love.”

“I’m really scared that my feet are going to get bigger.”

Killian barks out a laugh and rises from his chair in order to get closer to Emma, dipping his head down and kissing her because he can’t think of a single reason why he shouldn’t be kissing her at every available moment.

Especially now.

Especially always.

“I believe that means you’ll simply have to get new shoes. I think that can be arranged.”

“Never did I think there would be a day where you were encouraging me to get more shoes.”

“Well, you do have to throw out the old ones, of course.”

Emma’s chuckle is small, but it’s there, and Killian rests his forehead against hers while Emma’s hand comes to rest in his hair, toying with the little strands at the nape of his neck.

God, that feels good.

They’re having a baby.

“Killian,” she whispers, “how am I pregnant?”

“I don’t think I really need to explain the concept of sex to you.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious. When we are having sex, or making love if that’s your preferred term, and I reach my - ”

“You’re being an ass.”

“Wrong part of the body.”

“Ten years from now, when we think back on the moment I found out I was pregnant, this is what you’re going to have to remember.”

Emma is pregnant.

They’re going to be parents.

Bloody hell.

“I love you, darling,” he whispers, pulling back from her so that he can tuck her hair behind her ears and see the beautiful green of her eyes. They’re wet with tears, and he imagines his are too. “And I don’t know how this happened. I assume...I don’t know. I don’t know how this happened, but I do know that I’m happy. Are you happy?”

Emma nods while tugging on her bottom lip. “I’m happy, but I’m scared. I mean, we’ve talked about wanting kids, but talking about it and actually knowing that I’m pregnant is - ”

“Nerve-wracking.”

“Pretty much,” she laughs. “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby. I don’t think we know how to have a baby.”

“I imagine we’ll figure it out.”

“I guess we will.”

-/-

Killian is flooded with joy for the first week of them knowing Emma is pregnant. She’s only eight weeks along now, so they haven’t told a soul yet, but he’s itching to, if only because he desperately needs to talk to someone about it.

Someone who isn’t Emma because right now, he’s feeling like a piece of worthless scum on the sidewalk for some of the thoughts he’s having.

There are so many damn emotions that come with Killian knowing Emma is pregnant - happiness, elation, joy, terror, anxiousness, excitement - and as much as he fluctuates between all of them, there’s only one that creeps into the forefront of his mind in the middle of the night after a day wandering around knowing that their lives are going to keep changing every single day.

Uncertainty.

And it’s rubbish because he’s not even sure if uncertainty is an emotion, but it’s also rubbish because he’s feeling uncertain not because he doesn’t want this baby, but because he’s terrified that he won’t be a good father to their child.

Killian has a piss poor excuse for a father, and as much as David has filled in for that role, it’s not the same as having a good example for his entire life and seeing year-by-year proof that children can grow up to love their dads and not resent them or be hesitant to even be in the same room as them at family gatherings. He doesn’t love his dad, and he hates that he’s consumed by that. This is supposed to be one of the happiest times in his life, and all Killian feels some days is that he’s already a failure.

(It’s been a week. How is he already screwing up after a week?)

If he didn’t know that Emma is going to be the most incredible mum on the planet and make up for all of his shortcomings, he’d be fully convinced that he couldn’t do this and that fatherhood simply wasn’t for him.

Which is utter bullshit. He’s been in love with Emma for nearly a decade, has known he’s wanted to have children with her for most of that time, and Brennan should not still be able to take up so much space in Killian’s head.

Not anymore.

He’s fighting those demons and dealing with them in his counseling and every time he has to deal with his father, and Killian is determined not to let him taint this.

He can’t.

Not when the woman in bed next to him might as well be an angel sent to him from above, and not when the almost invisible curve of her stomach resting underneath his hand can be felt. They weren’t prepared for this. It wasn’t planned, and it’s apparently the result of the two of them thinking that the month of December was some kind of sex parade where birth control was sometimes optional.

(Emma found where she had skipped birth control pills after they got home, and he thinks she stared at the package for an hour at the very least.)

They were so stupid.

But he doesn’t regret it. Killian can’t. If they’d waited and tried some time from now, the baby growing in Emma wouldn’t be this baby. It would be a wonderful baby he and Emma both love with everything in them, but it wouldn’t be the same. Maybe next time, if they’re lucky enough, the pregnancy will be a result of months of careful love-making and a pointed attempt at trying, but to him, it doesn’t matter.

He’s scared out of his mind about being a dad, doesn’t know how he’s going to do it, but he wouldn’t change a thing. Not when he has Emma.

“You’re thinking too much,” Emma mumbles, twisting in the bed.

He lays his hand flat over her stomach. “You’re talking in your sleep.”

“I’m awake. Your thoughts were so loud.”

“If you can hear my thoughts, I feel like you need to explain quite a few of the fights we’ve had.”

“Don’t wanna,” Emma mumbles sleepily. Killian huffs into her hair before twisting around her and allowing her to stick her freezing cold feet between his calves while his lips brush over her cheek. His hand flexes over her stomach again, feeling the proof of a decade of love and heartbreak and everything in between. “You’re a good baby daddy.”

(He rather despises that term, and Emma seems fit to call him that this week. Hopefully that will die down, but he really can’t complain when Emma has just become fraught with morning sickness as of yesterday.)

“Am I?” he whispers into her hair, trying not to laugh. She’s not going to remember any of this in the morning. She has a habit of waking in the middle of the night, having a conversation, and then forgetting about it the next morning.

“Mhm. You’re sweet, and you’re also really hot. I like that about you.”

“Oh, well, I’m glad I can be of service for you in that way.”

Her breathing starts to even out after that, slowly returning to how it was, and Killian keeps moving his hand over the small, almost swell of her stomach, something that he knows is a comfort to both of them already.

“Killian?”

“Yes, love?” he whispers so quietly the ceiling fan drowns out the noise of his voice.

“You’re going to be a good dad.”

And even though she’s mostly asleep when she says it, Killian knows that Emma thinks that. She has so much faith in him even when she shouldn’t, and her words settle the beating of his heart and the worry running circles in his mind.

It’s not everything, but it’s a start.

(And technically, Emma having faith in him is everything.

It’s all he’s ever wanted and far more than he deserves.

But he’s glad for it.)

-/-

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“What? You don’t like it?”

“It’s rather beige.”

Emma huffs and tugs at her bra, pulling it out and gathering all of the excess fabric there. “My mom thought it would be appropriate to buy me nursing bras, but this isn’t even close to my size. Like, I understand I’m going to balloon up in every way imaginable, but this is gigantic.”

“We told your parents about the baby two days ago. How has your mom already sent you new bras?”

“Express shipping, babe.”

Killian laughs and walks toward her. She’s standing in front of the bathroom mirror in nothing but her knickers and this massive bra that he can’t ever imagine Emma properly fitting into. Apparently, she can’t imagine it either. It hangs far off her back and over her breasts, and if she lets it go from her grasp, it falls to expose her nipples.

She looks ridiculous.

But also rather lovely, and when she turns around to face him, bottom lip jutted out in a pout, he steps up to her and places his hands on her hips, fingers inching up over her sides. “This is the sexiest you have ever looked.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, slapping his stomach.

“What? Can I not talk about it? This bra is so much better than everything you have in your closet.”

“You’re being dumb.”

“Oh, always.”

He leans into her and brushes his scruff against her neck, knowing that it tickles her, before doing the same with his fingers against her sides. Emma is squirming away from him, or, at least, trying to, but he doesn’t let her, backing her up against the counter as he keeps moving against her while she gasps for breath and laughs.

In between calling him an asshole, of course. That’s her favorite name for him.

“K-killian,” she gasps, leaning away from him as he kisses her neck and moves to kiss her jaw. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“In an hour.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Aye,” he promises before kissing the corner of her lips until she’s turning to him so she can move her mouth over his, soft and slow and absolutely perfectly. As always. “But I think I might have some time to spend with you first.”

“Oh?”

“Mhm.”

“Can I take this damn bra off?”

“That was kind of the plan.”

-/-

They’re having a boy.

Killian was convinced that they were going to have a girl, as was Emma, and while it’s definitely a shock despite the equal odds, it doesn’t change anything about their excitement level or any of their plans going forward.

They’re having a boy.

And they can’t decide on a name. Everything in his head and on the list on the refrigerator were decidedly more feminine names, and while David, Liam, and Graham all cheekily suggest that their son should be named after one of them, Killian isn’t too sure about that.

(Ruby says their son can and should be named Ruby because she simply cannot wait until they have a girl for her to have a kid named after her.

When Emma suggests she have her own kid - “pregnancy is a bitch,” Emma mumbles - Ruby raises her hands in defeat and says they should name the kid whatever they want.)

It’s not that simple.

For as much as he and Emma push back on the traditions of his family and some of the inane rituals, they do want the name to fit. However, they want it to fit both them as a couple and his family. It’s a mixing of lifestyles and opinions, and the debates seem to rage on and on. Killian’s mum tells him she’s happy with whatever name they choose because it’s their family, Killian’s father makes a rare comment just to tell them how much he’s still pissed over Emma saying she won’t pose for photographs the day after giving birth, and Emma can’t seem to decide on anything.

(Except that she’s still not going to pose for photographs and expose their child to the wildness of the press after twenty-four hours of life, and he supports her wholeheartedly.

The press has tried to ruin them time and time again, emotionally and physically, and Killian will not stand for it for his wife or their child.)

Killian has his preferences, but he’s trying to narrow down her choices on the massive list that seems to keep growing and growing each day.

The name debate wages on as the weeks pass by and Emma’s stomach continues to grow. Killian never spent a lot of time imagining what this period in his life would be like, but overall, it’s mostly the same as he expected it would be. At least for him. Emma has gone through highs and extreme lows as her hormones attack her and change her body, and all he could do was support her and rub her back when she was vomiting.

And make every food that she wants, no questions asked. Though, surprisingly, her cravings are not at all what movies make them out to be. They do follow along with a lot that he’s read in the books and articles he’s consuming.

“There is literally no reason to read ten different books on the same thing,” Emma mumbles as she pulls her up into a bun. “That’s got to be information overload.”

“It’s varying opinions, love,” he insists, taking another note and sticking it to the page in his book. “I want to know as much as I can so I’m not caught unaware, and I needed a break from looking at cabinet handles for the new house.”

“Babe, you’re going to be caught unaware. It’s going to happen. Not even you can completely prepare for this.”

“Aye, but I can try.”

And he does try. He tries as he reads his books and looks at articles online so that he can at least be the tiniest bit more prepared than he would be. Emma reads books as well and is always looking to see his notes and what he knows, but she’s definitely the more relaxed of the two of them.

At least he thinks that.

She’s six and a half months pregnant and in a wonderful phase of constantly wanting him no matter what they’re doing when he realizes that Emma doesn’t like to constantly talk about the baby because it is all anyone talks to her about. When she does engagements, it’s what people mention. When they go out to dinner, even the servers mention their impending parenthood. When Emma talks on the phone with his mother, Allison is constantly talking about gifts for the baby and plans and asking if Emma has looked into some of the classes Allison suggested. Everyone means well and simply wants to share in their excitement, but their life isn’t all about this baby.

Their life is greatly enhanced by him and will change because of him, but at the core of it all, they’re still Emma and Killian who have been having conversations for nearly a decade about things other than a baby.

And Emma is still Emma, and she wants people to ask her how she is or what books she’s read lately or any conversation that would have been had before she was pregnant.

Late at night, though, when they’re lounging in bed with his hand on her stomach and his chest pressed into her back, sometimes she likes to whisper her thoughts and her fears, all of the hopes that she has for this future that keeps getting nearer and nearer to them.

The road to getting here was full of sharp wrong turns and dark corners full of heartbreak, and while they may have gotten a little lost along the way, they’re here now. That’s absolutely all that matters.

It always has been.

“Babe,” Emma calls out on a sunny day in June. They’ve been home all day, neither of them changing out of their pajamas, and he imagines from the look of it, Emma hasn’t combed through her hair. To be fair, he hasn’t either. “Do you know where the peanut butter is?”

“We had that entire box shipped here for you. It should be in the cupboard.”

“I don’t see it.”

“Have you checked the bottom shelf?”

“Yes.”

“Did you really?”

“I’m going to slap you.”

Killian sighs and puts down the letters he was responding to in order to get up and walk toward Emma and the cupboard. When he steps inside the room, he immediately goes in search of the box of jars of peanut butter he ordered for Emma only for it not to be there.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

“That’s kind of an extreme reaction to not being able to find the peanut butter.”

“How did we lose an entire box of peanut butter?”

“It can’t be lost. It has to be misplaced.”

“Lost, misplaced. Whatever, love.”

He squats down to look over all of the bottom shelves before scanning each and every other one, shifting around containers and boxes and every other insane organizational tool he decided to buy when he wanted this room to be contained and not a mess.

Except he can’t seem to find anything.

Mostly this damn peanut butter.

“You know what,” Emma sighs, “it’s fine. I’ll eat something else.”

“Darling, I will find it.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’ll find it.”

“Killian,” Emma huffs, tugging on his wrist until he turns around to look at her, “it’s fine. We have those smoothies I like in the fridge. I’ll drink one of those instead.”

“Are you certain?”

“Absolutely.” She tugs on his wrists again until she’s pulling him out of the room and back into their kitchen. “It wasn’t important.”

“I simply don’t understand where the peanut butter could have gone. I mean, I suppose it could have been moved, but I - ”

Emma loops her arms around his neck and presses up on her toes until she’s gently sliding her lips over his in a slow kiss that has his heartbeat quickening and gooseflesh rising over his skin.

“Stop worrying about it,” she murmurs as they sway back and forth with her stomach pressed tightly against his. “I don’t want a repeat of the blueberry muffin incident.”

“Dammit, don’t - ”

She kisses him again, insistently pressing her lips into his, and Killian presses back, pecking her lips once before doing it again and again and again. He kisses her fleetingly all the while continuing to sway the both of them. The wood is cold against his bare feet, so he’s sure Emma’s feet are literal icicles, but he’s not focusing on that as Emma begins to laugh, a small melodic sound that carries with the music that’s playing over the speaker on his phone from where he was listening to it when he was working.

But the laugh grows louder as Killian’s mouth moves away from hers and more toward the corner of her lips so that his scruff brushes against her skin, tickling her in the same way that his fingers are scratching against her sides and over the edges of her belly.

“You’re the only one I want to make laugh, truly.”

Emma’s laugh quiets at those words until she’s tightening her arms around his neck and nuzzling her face into his neck. There’s a sharp inhale of her breathing him in, and Killian kisses the top of her hair.

“You’re a romantic, my love,” she whispers.

“That’s what I strive to be.”

“I know. It’s why you practice all of those lines in the mirror.”

Killian scoffs. “I do not do that.”

“If anyone asks, it’s your word against mine, and well…”

She lets the words trail off, obviously waiting for him to fill in the blanks and continue their banter, but he doesn’t. He can’t, because the song is changing, and it’s been ages since he danced with her in the privacy of their home. Everything lately has been in suits and dresses with Emma’s heels making her nearly his height, but it hasn’t been the two of them in pajamas with messy hair and the ghost of missing peanut butter cascading over them.

So he keeps moving them, a gentle sway that turns into more, and they traverse the space in the kitchen, their feet quickly moving as Killian whispers in Emma’s ear words of affection that flow from his heart. It’s moments and times like these in the sanctity of their kitchen when it’s just the two of them and no one and nothing else that he thinks of how grateful he is that they fought for their love and won. Nothing about this was ever guaranteed or predestined, but they figured it out.

“I love you.”

Emma hums. “I love you, too.”

She pulls her head back until he can see her eyes, the beautiful glint of blue wrapped up in the green, and her smile is so bright that he can’t imagine not kissing her. He can’t imagine not kissing her as often as he’s able and not kissing her every day on a multitude of occasions. So he does.

And he hopes not to ever stop having that desire.

He won’t.

Emma is his wife and the mother of his child, of this one between them now and any ones in the future, but most of all, he thinks, she’ll always be his closest companion.

His best friend.

“Hey,” Emma whispers after they’ve been silently dancing for at least two songs.

“Yeah, love?”

“I think I’ve finally decided what name I want for the baby.”

Killian chuckles and tilts his head to the side to press his lips into her hair once more, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and everything that he’s grown accustomed to over the years. “And what’s that then?”

-/-

Their son is born on September twenty-third, a few days after Killian’s thirty-second birthday.

They name him Andrew Killian Phillip Jones.

He always goes by Andy.  

-/-

-/-

-/-

Any of my Second in Command (the original version of this story) will recognize Andy. He was, like, star of the show for that crazy long epilogue/sequel I wrote, and I really wanted to include him here. The main reason, though, was to show that even though some parts of Emma and Killian’s story changed, that they went through more of a wild ride this go round, that they still get to have the same happy ending...wait, I think I have to say “happy beginning” here 😉

Thank you all for the INCREDIBLE support! I hope you enjoyed this story!

@mrtinski @klynn-stormz @jonirobinson64 @snowbellewells @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @owlways-and-forever​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @397bartonstreet​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @scarletslippers​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @captainswanbigbang​

[captainswanbigbang]

Never Traditional Master Post

Author: @xemmaloveskillianx AO3 Rating: M Summary: After a person from her past calls with a problem, Emma and Killian leave Storybrooke to help. Alone for the first time in their relationship, they begin to realize things aren’t always the way they seem and sometimes the past can come back to haunt you.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12