#extra shoutout to the person who whole ass scheduled it

[brodorokihousuke]

Shoutout to the people who are already reblogging my old “…Merry Christmas” screenshot

[swanderful1]

Duplicity: Ch 3/?

Summary: Secrets shroud the homes of the idyllic Willow Lane. Its newest resident, Emma Swan is no exception. In a place where perception is everything, the facade begins to crack. And Emma finds herself staring down the deep, dark secrets that the neighborhood was built on and that nothing is as it seems. Not even the blue eyed gardener.

Notes: Hiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!! Back with another update, here’s chapter 3! Hope you like it! Also special shoutout to @resident-of-storybrooke for being my beta and @shady-swan-jones for the artwork!!!!!!! 

Word Count: ~6300 

Disclaimer: All rights to OUAT, I own nothing. 

The rest can be found on AO3 and ffnet 

Two days after Killian had first met with Emma Swan about her backyard he began his first phase of work there. It was early Wednesday, the sun was quite literally still rising, when he pulled his truck in front of the house. Another email from Neal Gold had given Killian a specific timeline of when he wanted to work to be done, and it really was not long at all.

Some sort of party was being thrown at the house in the end of May, giving him just under two months to frame the structure with the appropriate landscaping. For any other house, it would be a simple task. But it was during the height of his busiest season and the yard was quite large. So there was a good chance it may not get done in time.

That and he also had other motives for being there.

He unloaded his truck, slipping on his work gloves so no one would see the prosthetic that replaced his left hand. Killian felt himself being extra quiet as he unpacked, hoping that he wouldn’t wake Emma and her resting husband. But just as Killian was heading to the backyard he noticed Neal Gold exiting the house, it was rather early to be headed to the office, he thought.

“Morning,” Neal said, giving Killian a half-assed wave from the driveway.

“Morning,” he said back. The man, dressed in a suit that probably cost more than Killian made in a month, got into his Range Rover and drove off.

As Neal drove out of sight Killian couldn’t help but envy him a bit. Here he was, living in this massive house. Driving an expensive car. Set to be the heir of the largest construction company in the north east just because he was born. Sleeping in bed each night with a beautiful woman.

And, to Killian at least, it did not appear as though the man appreciated any of it. He certainly had not missed the way in which Emma regarded Neal’s management of the project the other day. As much as he knew it was none of his business what she thought of Neal, he still found himself wondering.

He shook off his jealousy, it was entirely uncharacteristic of him to envy the kind of life he had seen so much of in his years in the business. It irked him that, for once, he was picturing being the person in the house. But, it did him no good to pout. Killian didn’t have the luxury of an inheritance nor a wealthy family.

“Good morning,” said a voice from behind. Killian jumped, not expecting anyone to be awake this early. He spun and saw that Emma Swan was standing on the empty back porch, holding a white mug of what he could only assume was coffee. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Hi there,” he said with a smile. “It’s quite alright, I just didn’t think anyone would be awake this early.”

Killian softened a bit, setting his handful of tools down. Despite the early hour, her face was wide awake. Her green eyes bright and her hair tied back off of her face. As she stepped down off of the porch and walked toward him, he tried not to get distracted by the way her clothes clung to her curves and instead focused on what he still needed to get from his truck.

“I’m a morning person,” she said, pulling the mug to her lips with both hands. The rising sun caught the light of the diamond ring on her finger, serving as an ever present reminder that she was completely untouchable. For so many reasons. “I was just about to go for a run. Did you need any help with anything before I go?”

He looked at her quizzically and determined that she wasn’t just offering to offer, she genuinely wanted to help. She was quite different than any of the women he had worked for in the past and he was starting to regret the shallow assumptions he had made about her at first glance. It was a force of habit, and people rarely surprised him in a good way.

“No thank you, love, I’ve got it covered,” he replied.

“Alright,” she said, gulping down the rest of her coffee until it was empty. Killian felt his eyes widen at how quickly she had drained the mug. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

With that she took off, headed toward the front street where he heard her chatting with someone else. Another woman it sounded like, and then soon their voices drifted away. With no more distractions he set to work.

Living in Maine meant warm summers and cold winters. This also meant that Killian did his best to select plants that could grow back after cooler temperatures, so that it wasn’t like starting from the bottom each spring when the weather shifted.

In order to fulfill her wish of a natural looking landscape, Killian would have to get creative.

He had drawn on his sketch pad the layout of the yard. He had accounted for the essentials, factored in the property line. Since the entire back was a plot of dirt plus an empty pool, he had no trouble using a can of orange spray paint to outline where he would be putting things.

When Liam was alive, he had been able to talk to people. Quite easily, which was why everyone was so quick to hire him to work on their yards. Killian well, not so much. He could be charming when he wanted to be, especially with women, but he rarely wanted to be when it came to work. Especially when it was something he could lean on his brother for. Killian knew his strengths. He was the worker, the muscle, the perfectionist. And despite only having one hand, he executed things precisely. So well that none of the people who had hired him in the past fifteen years had a clue he was missing his left hand.

Killian was just about done with the front yard when he heard the chatter of voices behind him.

“Thanks for the run, Emma,” said one woman. Whom he could assume to be Mary Margaret, Ruby’s friend who lived across the street.

“Sure,” replied Emma, her breath ragged presumably from the run. “Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Sounds good!” he heard her say back, before the sound of footsteps carried Mary Margaret away. And then his ears listened for the sound of Emma coming closer.

“Can I get you some water or anything?” she said when she was about halfway up the steps to the front door. He looked up at her from his work on the lawn and noted that she was covered in sweat like she had been the other day when he came to meet her. Killian wondered if she would get into the habit of leaving him alone at her house to go for runs.

“That’s alright, I have some in the truck, and I’m just about done here.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “It’s pretty warm out, I for one am parched.”

“That’s because you’ve been running and I’ve been walking in circles,” he joked.

“What’s the spray paint for?”

“It’s to outline where everything is going to go once the sprinkler system is in.”

“Do you mind taking me on a tour?”

“Sure.” He smiled, and she stepped off the porch. Close up, she was about a head shorter than him, and was thinly built but muscular. Her breath was still ragged but somehow it all worked in her favor.

The backyard wasn’t much at this stage of things, so he found it hard to describe to Emma what everything would come together to look like. He felt himself more than a few times at a loss for words. But if she noticed she didn’t say anything, just followed him around and politely waited for him to talk.

“I know I said I didn’t want too many flowers…” she said after walking around the perimeter of the space. “But there was one thing I was wondering if there would be room for.”

“What’s that?” he said turning his head toward her.

“The rose bushes I saw at the mayor’s house the other day, you did those right?”

“Aye.” Killian nodded. The blasted things had given him migraine after migraine. To make sure they were to Cora Mills liking was a particular challenge that more than tested his patience.

“Well, it might not be so bad to have some of those here… maybe tucked away where the gazebo is going to be?”

As much as he hated putting them in and maintaining them across the street, when he looked at Emma’s expectant face, he couldn’t do anything but smile and nod.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Whatever you want.”

“I just thought that they were nice to look at…” she paused as if deciding whether or not to add the next part of her statement. “I wouldn’t mind being able to have fresh roses in the house every once in a while.”

“Then that’s what you shall have,” he said, making note of the change in his sketch. “I’ll be in another neighborhood the rest of the week but I can bring by some floral samples from the greenhouse this weekend.”

“Yeah, that’d be good,” she smiled at him and shifted on her feet.

“I’ll be doing some work next door for Granny Lucas on Saturday morning, I can come by then if you’ll be home?”

She doesn’t need your whole bloody schedule, Killian corrected himself.

“I’ll be around,” she said looking up at him. For a second their eyes lingered, before she broke the stare to walk toward the house. His eyes followed her as she walked up the steps, a confident stroll. Her hips swaying in a way they hadn’t before, he was sure of that.

Killian had a feeling. A brief one, that just barely tugged on his conscious mind. Something that felt like he wanted to give Emma Swan whatever it was that she wanted.

On Friday night Killian plopped himself down on his usual stool at The Rose and the Thorn. After a long week of work he felt he had earned a cold drink. Robin poured him two fingers of rum on the rocks and Killian tossed it back immediately.

“Easy there, champ,” said his best friend.

Killian rolled his eyes, ordering a beer. He wasn’t planning on getting obliterated tonight as he normally did on the weekends. He had a full day tomorrow, part of his itinerary included a visit with Emma Swan. And while there was absolutely no concrete reason why he would need to be on his best behavior around her, he felt himself wanting to be anyway.

“A beer?” Ruby said entering the bar. Bringing over a crate of clean glasses to stack. On weekends she tended bar with Robin to make extra money. With her grandmother getting older, eventually all responsibility would fall onto Ruby financially. She had lost her parents at a young age as well, luckily for her, Granny had been around to raise her.

“Taking it slow tonight, Red,” he said back, sipping on the frothy liquid.

“Any particular reason?” she poked.

“A lot of work tomorrow. So I’m trying to make a good decision,” Killian said snarkily. Now it was Robin who rolled his eyes.

“I hear one of those tasks is making a special house call to bring rose samples over to my new neighbor,” Ruby said leaning across the bar. Her elbows resting on the surface. She was looking at him funny, like she could see right through him.

“It is.”

“Who’s your new neighbor?” Robin chimed in.

“Gold’s son… well and his wife,” said Ruby still looking at Killian critically.

“He has a son?” Robin asked.

“Yes, he’s just about our age,” Ruby commented. “And his wife is….”

“She’s nice,” Killian cut her off, taking another sip. He did not want to get into it with these two.

“Oh I’m sure she’s very nice to you,” Robin smirked.

“Her husband is about to inherit one of the biggest construction businesses in the north east. Forgive me for wanting to stay on the good side of that family.”

Even as the irritated words came out of his mouth, the irony in them was not lost.

“It also doesn’t hurt that she’s gorgeous,” Ruby said backing up to resume her glass stacking.

“Ah the trophy wife type, very nice,” joked Robin as he mixed drinks for a few young men at the end of the bar.

“No.” Killian had immediately said, but realizing how suspicious that sounded he tried to back track. But somehow seemed to make this conversation worse. “She’s uh, very much so her own person.”

“Who are you and what have you done with Killian Jones?” Ruby asked incredulous to his response.

“Go easy on him, Red, maybe this is a sign he’s finally growing up,” said Robin.

“I just think she’s lonely, alright?” Killian said.

It wasn’t a lie. But he began to think that the reason he was drawn to her was because of the reflection of that loneliness he saw in himself.

“I won’t disagree there, moving to Storybrooke was clearly not within her control,” Ruby interjected. Finally. “Mary Margaret and I spent some time with her this week. Otherwise she would be all by herself in that big house all day. Her husband barely comes home.”

“Sounds like the picture of idealism,” Robin remarked. It was no secret that the three of them hated the suburbs.

“Besides, I don’t think the mayor likes her very much,” Ruby continued. Out of the corner of Killian’s eye he caught Robin’s hand freeze just the slightest at the mention of Regina Mills.

“What makes you say that?” Killian wondered.

“We all know she’s not exactly a girl’s girl….” Ruby alluded to the fact that as each one of the women moved to the street Regina had essentially frozen them out. Again Robin fumbled with the glass.

Killian remained quiet, knowing that Ruby was unintentionally treading on thin ice with this conversation. Between Killian and Robin there were two secrets that only the other knew. For him it was Milah, Robin had known at the time what kind of trouble she was in before she died. For Robin though, it was the mayor. The mayor who was now engaged to the chief of police.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” Ruby asked Killian, not noticing how Robin was just about to squirm.

“Eh… probably this, why?”

“Mary Margaret asked me and Granny over for dinner but Granny can’t come because of her book club.”

“Who is going to be there?” he asked, his eyebrow shooting up.

“Well obviously Mary Margaret and David, then you and I… Neal Gold and Emma…”

“I suppose I could escort you.” It wasn’t the first time Killian had filled in as Ruby’s plus one to an event and it probably wouldn’t be the last. “What time?”

“Around 7ish? Will you be done with work by then?”

“Yeah, Red, I’ll be done by then.”

Luckily a group of people walked into the bar in search of drinks which pulled Ruby’s attention elsewhere. He would have to sit at a dinner table with Emma Swan and her husband. Should be interesting.

Among the group of people infiltrating the bar were a few women, one of whom was eyeing Killian. She was pretty, dark chocolate colored hair and romantic eyes. She was precisely his type.

He smiled politely at her before returning his attention to the half consumed beer and in front of him. On any other night he would have sent a drink her way, used it as an opening for a conversation. But he felt himself retreat and instead continue to nurse the drink in front of him, twisting the base of the glass on the black bar napkin.

It was a while before Robin came back over, the bar was full of people. It was a Friday night after all. The sound of chatter drowned out the music that played over the ancient speakers. Killian’s one beer was almost entirely gone now as his friend set down a tumbler of amber liquid, ice clinking against its sides.

“This is from the lady at the end of the bar,” Robin said. His head shifted toward the woman who had smiled at Killian earlier. He nodded in her direction before sipping down the strong liquid, ordering two more and sauntering over to her.

For as long as Milah had been gone, he had never had an issue with seeking out a random stranger in a bar and taking her to bed with him. Killian had done it time and time again in the five years she had been dead. Not once did he ever second guess the choice to cozy up to someone else also looking for company.

“I’m not a fan of being indebted to people,” he said, handing her the drink. She smiled at him a tint of red hitting her cheeks.

“I don’t usually do that…” she said, sipping the drink, her red lips wrapping around the straw. “But you just looked so lonely sitting there I had to.”

“Ah, I see, so it was a pity drink?” he toyed, his eyebrow raising at her.

“Not entirely.”

Her body leaned toward his in the crowded space. The smoke in the air filling his nose. Killian could be charming when he wanted to be.

But by his third round of drinks with the pretty brunette his mind wandered elsewhere. The deep fissures of his brain opening to reveal that his most pressing thought was that, if he was awake early enough, he would have more time to spend discussing roses with Emma Swan.

And for whatever reason, that seemed to be the most appealing task in the world.

Emma’s first week in Storybrooke had been relatively pleasant given the circumstances. Her situation that she was trying desperately to make the best of, was playing out well. It was early Saturday morning when she heard the sound of an old truck pulling up in front of her house. Since the day was nice, Neal and his father had already left to play a round of golf with the mayor’s fiance, Graham. It was interesting to Emma how all of these major roles in the town were filled by people who essentially lived on one street.

When Neal kissed her goodbye she was still in bed, tucked among the white linens.

“I’ll be back in the evening, Em,” Neal said as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be at the country club if you need me.”

“Don’t forget we have dinner at the Nolan’s tonight.”

“We do?”

“Yes. I told you last night before bed.” A hint of irritation lingered in her tone. You probably weren’t listening, she wanted to add but didn’t. If she picked a fight each time something she said went in one ear and out the other she would never stop screaming.

As much as Emma was beginning to feel like she was perpetually being abandoned by Neal she didn’t want to start an argument first thing in the morning. She swallowed her comment and made a mental note to call him later to remind him of their dinner with the new neighbors. God forbid the Nolans weren’t the mayor or the chief of police or the superintendent of the schools or anything that could in some way self-serve Neal and his father. Emma glanced at the clock. It was already 8 am, so she instead focused on the fact that Killian would be here to pick out the roses for the backyard.

The day was a comfortable temperature, the blue sky above setting the tone for a nice morning. Emma’s back porch was still bare, except for a stack of collapsed boxes from the move. She could hear the faint sound of birds and cars driving past. The sound of children running around because it was the weekend and no one had school. A crew of three men were working in her backyard to get the sprinkler system installed by Monday before the grass would go in. Two cups of coffee were steaming in white mugs next to Emma and the gardener. She was on her second cup, he had barely touched his.

“Now these are heritage roses, they’re relatively sturdy and don’t require a ton of upkeep,” said Killian as they sat on her back porch comparing the several blooms he had brought over. “Baronne Prevost.”

“They’re what?” she said looking from the pink flower in her hand to him. She was clearly his first stop of the day, as his shirt was white and unstained. His gloves were clean. His pants were pressed. For a second her gaze lingered on his blue eyes. “I thought roses were just roses.”

“That’s the name of the type of rose, love,” he said kindly. If he noticed her eyes ogling him a bit, he remained unreadable.“They would grow on a bush about 5 x 5 in height and width.”

“They’re beautiful,” Emma said focusing again on the flower. Attempting to shift her wandering mind.

“Aye, they are,” he said coolly. “I would imagine they would look rather nice on a kitchen table.”

“Huh?” she said.

“You had said the other day that you thought it would be nice to have fresh roses in the house… these will be ideal for that. They bloom several times per season.”

Emma looked up at him again, knowing that it was his job to remember what she said she wanted, but still grateful that small tidbit stuck enough in his head. She felt her skin flush a bit, probably similar in color to the pink rose in her hand.

“Would you like to see some others then?” he asked.

“No, no I think these will be perfect.”

“Well that was easy,” he said, removing his right glove to write something down in his notepad he always carried with him. And maybe it was from not being able to see his left hand, or her current preoccupation with other people’s lives, but she found herself wondering if there was a wedding band on his left hand.

“I like to think I’m decisive,” she replied.

He had to be married. Or at the very least have some sort of serious partner. He had to, he was gorgeous.

“That’s a nice quality in a client.”

“Yeah, because it makes your job easier.”

“That may be true,” he said with a smirk. But neither of them stood up. A tension lingered in the air as neither said anything else for a few seconds.

“Emma!” called a voice from the yard. It was Mary Margaret.

“What’s up?” said Emma standing from her spot on the deck. Peering over the bannister she could see her newest friend walking toward the porch. As she did, stepping out of whatever orbit she had just fallen into, a part of her felt like she had been caught with something.

“I just wanted to see what you wanted for dinner to-... oh! Hi Killian!” said the cheery woman as she rounded the bend and realized Emma wasn’t alone.

“Hello, Mary Margaret,” said Killian, rising as well to collect his things.

“I didn’t realize you two were working on something, it’s good that I have you both here,” Mary Margaret said. “What would you prefer for dinner tonight, a roast or Italian?”

“You’re going to be at dinner?” Emma looked at Killian who was now standing next to her.

“Aye, Ruby asked me to go in lieu of her grandmother.”

“Oh,” Emma looked away from him, realizing that of course he was dating someone like Ruby. And then internally scolding herself for even remotely minding that he would be there tonight with someone else. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s relatively last minute,” he said quietly, almost like he was only saying it to her.

“Anything you make is fine with me,” Emma said taking her eyes from Killian to Mary Margaret.

“Same here,” said Killian.

And if anyone noticed how uncomfortable Emma had suddenly become, no one said a thing.

That evening, as Emma sat at the breakfast bar of her kitchen, she sipped a glass of Chardonnay she had poured herself. The tall stemware was a Christmas gift she had bought last year when she realized all of her wine glasses were mismatched souvenir cups.

If ten year old Emma could see twenty eight year old Emma, she could only imagine the conversation they would have. She had spent 18 years in the foster system, which meant living out of a backpack. Especially as she aged beyond the cute baby years and into her preteen years when it was a lost cause to be permanently adopted.

As she looked around her new house, she couldn’t help but think about how this had been all she wanted growing up. The big two story entryway with the skylight. The dining room with a big, oak table to have Thanksgiving dinner. The all white kitchen, that had a breakfast nook and bay windows. The living room with big comfortable couches and artwork she had collected over the years.

Beyond all of that though, was the pressing fact that she had essentially assembled this home on her own. Every couch, every picture frame, every glass was there because she had put it there. When they had moved into their first apartment together, when she was 18, Neal had helped every step of the way. Sure, it had been a tiny studio apartment over a laundromat and most of its contents were from second hand stores but still. When they had nothing between the two of them he was there… but now, where was Neal?

Checking the watch on her wrist it was 6:50 and they were due to be at the Nolan’s around 7. She was getting worried.

At 5 before Emma had hopped in the shower, she had called to remind him of the dinner. No answer.

At 5:30 when she was done drying her hair, she had called to remind him of the dinner. No answer.

At 6 when she was ironing a shirt for him in their walk in closet, she had called the country club to see if he was still there. The woman at the front desk had said he had left an hour ago.

At 6:30 when she put the finishing touches on her outfit, simple dark jeans and a cream colored sweater, her usual jewelry, her hair in loose curls she sent him a text. No answer.

The ticking watch on her wrist taunted her, clicking along, minutes going by. All the while hoping he would just call. At the very least, just call. She put up with a lot from him. But how hard was it to call?

Then at 7:05, just as Emma was about to smash the glass in her hand, he walked in the door.

“Em…?” she heard him call out from the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” she said back, her voice an unmistakable monotone.

“Sorry I’m late, we went to dinner in town after the round,” he said, kissing her forehead. What she smelled on him though was the thick stench of bourbon.

“Are you drunk?” Emma sat up in her seat, tugging away from his embrace.

“No.” He stepped back, setting his clubs on the tile floor. The one thing he managed to unpack during the move. “Lighten up, Em. It’s a Saturday.”

“Yeah, well, we’re late for dinner. The one that was actually planned,” she said tightly getting up from her chair. She grabbed her red jacket and threw it over top of her sweater. If she went in on him right now, there would be no making it to dinner.

“We could just cancel.”

“No.”

“Can I have a few minutes to change?” he asked, treading lightly around her.

“That depends….” Emma crossed her arms. “If you go upstairs are you going to magically disappear for 9 hours?”

He gathered his things, pushing past her to walk upstairs. How did we get like this? She wondered while she waited. They hadn’t always been this disconnected. There was a time when he was just about her everything, the only consistency she knew. More so now than ever she felt herself clutching to those memories. But when he started working for his father four years ago, that had all slowly started to change.

By 7:30 they had made their way across the street to the Nolan’s, Emma apologizing profusely for their lateness. When she saw that Killian and Ruby had already arrived, she did just about anything to not be near the two together. So when Mary Margaret suggested a tour of the house, Emma jumped at the opportunity. The woman, being very proud of her home, took she and Neal through each room.

It was very different than their house across the street. The Nolan’s were far more practical than they were. All of the floors a dark, sturdy wood that wouldn’t show dirt. Eclectic, comfortable furniture. The rooms all open to one another so that everything flowed evenly. Pictures everywhere of David and Mary Margaret on trips, from their wedding, from college. Pieces of art made by her students and given as gifts. Books were scattered on just about every surface and candles were lit all around giving the house a warm glow and a lovely smell.

“When we have kids, I want to be able to see them in the backyard from the kitchen,” said Mary Margaret as they finished the tour, looping through the back half of the house. The kitchen was where they ended, the soft brown and beige colors of the counters and cabinets making it feel so homey.

“But for now her being able to watch the dogs is sufficient,” David joked as he handed Emma and Neal glasses of wine. He was the local veterinarian, and according to Mary Margaret, brought home more animals than money. At the moment there were two dogs in the house plus a cat. Which made it feel even more inviting.

“We built this house knowing we wanted a big family… I just didn’t imagine being outnumbered by the animals,” said Mary Margaret. She was the quintessential elementary school teacher. With her sing-song voice, kind face and patient temperament.

“I like to bring my work home,” David said bringing his wife into his embrace. The two leaned against the back cabinets and smiled.

“It’s a good thing I don’t, we’d have twenty two 8 year olds running around.”

Everyone laughed at that, and suddenly it felt a bit more easy to be here. The Nolans were at glance the ideal young couple. But aside from that they were just nice people, and Emma liked that. They were certainly not the worst neighbors she could have.

The dining room off of the kitchen held a modest wood table, filled with different steaming pots of food.

“I hope you don’t mind, I went a little overboard,” said Mary Margaret as they all sat down at their seats. Each place setting with a handwritten, elegant tag.

“Wow you guys are like real adults,” Ruby said as they sat at their assigned seats. David and Mary Margaret at either head. Then in the middle sat Ruby and Killian to the left, Emma and Neal to the right. If her fiance, at all, had a chip on his shoulder about having dinner with the man who was his landscaper he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead he was the opposite of what Emma had predicted he would be.

“Everything looks great,” Neal said. He had suddenly become Prince Charming now that they were in front of people.

“How are you two enjoying Storybrooke?” Ruby asked once everyone had begun eating. The light lull of conversation carrying through. Emma looked at her sitting next to Killian and decided that they made an attractive couple. What with their dark hair, angular faces and big eyes. Though hers were green and his were the same striking blue that kept catching her attention from across the table. Something she was probably imagining.

“Well, I enjoy it here, it’s where I grew up,” Neal chimed in. “So it’s always been home to me.”

“I guess I’m just a bit harder to please,” Emma said, hoping that she hid the bitterness in her tone.

“Where did you grow up, Emma?” the well-meaning David asked.

“Foster care,” she said back matter of factly. The quiet that filled the dining room was somehow still deafening. No one ever knew how to respond to that, which meant Emma was always able to recover from the statement quickly. “So living in a place like this is a dream come true for me.”

She grabbed Neal’s hand that rested on the table, and everyone seemed to simultaneously breath. People loved a happy ending, especially one where the baby left in a basket on the side of the road ended up living the American dream. Outwardly at least. It was a story people were relieved by, just like right now at the dinner table. Except that when Emma’s gaze drifted to Killian she realized he was the only one able to look her in the eyes. And she was most definitely not imagining it.

The rest of the night went off without a hitch. Neal somehow recovered from his drunken day on the golf course and charmed the pants off of the new neighbors. Telling stories and commanding the room. While glass after glass of wine was poured. All the while Emma sat back and watched him dance. He knew he was in deep with her. She would give him that credit, he always worked overtime to make things up to her.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Emma said, while everyone was gathered in the kitchen, distracted listening to a story about Neal’s round of golf with the police chief today. Something about a gofer… she didn’t really care. All she knew was she needed some air.

“Oh… sorry, I didn’t realize you had come out here,” Emma said when she noticed Killian leaned against the pillar of the front porch.

“No, it’s okay, I should get back in there anyway.” He slid his phone back into his pocket, he had excused himself a bit ago to take a call.

Emma could still hear the the conversation going on inside and promptly closed the door behind her.

“Some fresh air, love?” he asked with a half smile, the porch was dim but she could still make out the angles of his face.

“Yeah. The room was a bit… loud for me in there.”

“He’s quite the talker that one,” Killian said, and that made Emma smile. That she wasn’t the only one who was tired of having one person take up all the oxygen in the room.

“Yes, he is,” she said. She knew she should go back in. But for whatever reason Emma just didn’t want to. Instead she plopped herself down on one of the rocking chairs near the door.

The two of them were quiet for a few moments, only listening to the sounds of the neighborhood. Kids getting called in for the night, a car or two driving past, the light breeze that made her curl her arms around herself. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable though, it was like an unspoken understanding. She watched him a bit as his back was turned to her. He wore a pair of jeans and a long sleeve navy blue sweater, it was the first time she saw him in anything other than his gardening attire. Then her eyes shifted to the front of her new home.

It was utterly still, the house, massive but stale looking. True no one was home but it was hard to make the comparison between their house and Mary Margaret’s. Mary Margaret’s was designed to be a home, Emma’s was designed to be a statement piece.

“My brother raised me,” he said finally and Emma turned to where he was leaned against one of the railings, but he was looking out toward the street. She could just barely make out the profile of his face. The tightness to his jaw.

Emma stayed quiet, surveying what his goal was by saying this to her.

“I lost both parents very young. But he was old enough to be my guardian.”

“You were lucky to have him.”

“Aye.”

As Emma looked toward Killian, she noted his body language. His facial expression. And deciffered that his past was not something he tended to share a lot. She didn’t press him though, he wasn’t telling her so they could have a long discussion of their respective parental abandonment. But knowing about it did make her feel like less of an idiot for blurting out her past at the dinner table.

“There you are,” said Ruby as the front door opened. Her green eyes looked toward Emma who was sitting in the rocking chair still. Turning to Killian she said, “I need to get back, I have an early morning tomorrow at Granny’s.”

“I’ll walk you home then,” Killian quickly offered.

The others came out onto the porch through the wide open front door. David, Mary Margaret and Neal filling the space. A mix of goodbyes and thank yous were exchanged between the six people as they all went their separate ways. Emma’s eyes shifted toward her neighbor’s house as she and Neal walked back. While she promised herself it was just to ensure Ruby got into her house okay, she knew deep down there was something else she was watching for.

And when Killian said goodnight to Ruby without anything more than a hug; an unwarranted, undeserved sigh of relief filled her body.

[tumblunni]

I was gonna (finally) continue playing Dream Daddy, and that just made me think.. does anyone else remember.. I think it was ‘Ahego Academy’? *googles* Okay, Asagao is how its spelled, alright oops.

But like.. the Normal Boots dating sim, whatever it is?? Wasn’t that such a WEIRD THING?

I know that Dream Daddy isn’t really made by the game grumps alone, they just published it and supported it and helped out. And it was obviously never intended to be an actual ‘date the game grumps’, so I dunno why it even reminded me of asagao but like... Still I kinda see it as a success story of what Asagao failed to be. Like.. in an abstract sense, as a game licensed by some famous youtubers.

Cos like.. Asagao was so WEIRD because it.. marketed itself as a normalboots dating sim, was so OVERWHELMINGLY buried in normalboots licensing, yet then didnt really deliver on the normalboots part. All the characters aren’t really the members of normalboots?? Like, they have their names and vaguely similar appearances but then their personalities are just various standard anime tropes with barely any resembelance beyond like.. catch phrase in-jokes and one guy has a robot bird. And without that... like.. its really just... any other generic ‘trying too hard to be fake japanese based on anime alone’ western VN game. Even more generic its a high school one... And its so WEIRD seeing these half-assed high school au versions of everyone! Why do they still have full giant beards?? Actually, why did they even make the decision to have the protagonist be underage and like.. reimagine everyone else underage too? Wouldnt it be simpler to just have the protag be someone in college dating the actual real normalboots members, without the ‘reimagining’ having to go so far that they barely resemble the original?

It honestly feels like some sort of other game that got a weird sponsored makeover at the last second. I don’t know the real history behind it, but I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case? like, did normalboots actually make this game themselves or was it similar to dream daddy? cos thats what I mean about the comparison. Dream Daddy is a project published, supported and even voiceacted by the game grumps, its an official Game Grumps Games (tm) Game, but they weren’t really over the top and restrictive about getting their license on it. Honestly you wouldn’t even know it was published by them if not for the big PUBLISHED BY THEM sticker on the title screen and like.. recognising one voiceactor or one or two little affectionate visual gags to running jokes from the show. Its really just an unrelated game that these youtubers really liked and decided to support. And Asagao feels like it was also one of those, I’d be surprised if it wasn’t! Like, it would be an extra double fail if it was made by the normalboots club themselves and somehow failed to contain very much of them. (Nah, I mean, its not that bad, I don’t HATE it and I dont think it was unsuccessful or anything, it just wasnt what I expected...)

Also like... Dream Daddy just seems so much like the GGs were actually passionate about it? It doesnt seem like a cash grab. It wasn’t excessively plugged on their videos and like.. when people were like ‘oh the game grumps are making a game’, the game grumps themselves tweeted to clarify the actual writers and programmers, and were constantly supporting them through the game’s troublesome release schedule issues. And I dunno, I guess it just raised my opinion of the GGs a lot, and also because this is a really great and inclusive gay dating sim with so much genuine soul in it. I actually initially got scared away from buying it just because it was ‘a Game Grumps Games (tm) Game’, when it was first announced I was worried it would be some sort of joke project. And like.. when it was clarified it was a gay game in particular, i was DOUBLE worried it was gonna have some bigoted jokes n shit, like holy hell! And like even if it wasn’t offensive, it’d probably be a JOKE, right? I mean they do so many jokes about gay flirting and stuff on the show. But like.. they actually went and proved that they’re like The Only People On Goddamn Youtube that GENUINELY are ‘just making jokes’ and do really care about their LGBTQ fans. (Cos seriously who expected this to even have transgender representation too??? I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANOTHER GAY DATING SIM THAT INCLUDES TRANS CHARACTERS, EVER ) its like.. this is why I roll my goddamn eyes at shit like the jontron and pewdiepie controversies. they never do anything to genuinely apologise for what they do, and they CERTAINLY dont do anything to prove that they’re not bigoted! All their apologies are like ‘no stop yelling at me but also let me go back to continuing to act exactly the same every day’. And like.. when have they ever really done anything to aknowledge those parts of their fandom even exist, let alone given a huge shoutout to minority fans LET ALONE supported the release of a WHOLE GAME about gay and trans men AND VOICEACTED IT. I mean obviously they aren’t perfect, and I’m still uncomfortable with those kinds of jokes and I don’t find them funny, but still its reassuring to finally know what these guys actually feel about queer people, yknow? And it doesn’t feel like a shoehorned-in fake effort or anything, they were really involved in making the game and supporting it and like.. either they got the feels about the lines they were voiceacting or they’re just REALLY good actors, yo. I didnt know they could do really serious scenes too?? i didn’t know this was even gonna HAVE serious scenes, i thought it’d be one giant horrible gay joke aimed at the lowest common denominator of their fans, instead of such a genuine project aimed at the fans who feel kinda left out. So like.. yeah. I ended up starting to watch more game grumps again after this game came out. Good job, guys. (Tho seriously still I would prefer less of the lowest common denominator jokes, or at least like try and make more of a statement about like.. the OTHER minorities you joke about, too. The audience legit cannot tell whether you’re joking or you really believe that shit, considering how many other youtubers are doing legit bigoted stuff like every damn week nowadays.)