#i remember answering an ask a few months ago in which i said s7 was my least favourite season from the first ten

[guplia]

Okay so while rewatching season 7 I have suddenly gained a new respect for it lol

I love how despite being villains, Krux and Acronix still love each other and that Krux waited 40 years for his brother to return!

I also find it funny that Acronix travelled 40 years ahead in time, and from his point of view, his brother became old in a matter of seconds and nothing is the same anymore. But instead of being sad about it he loves the future! And technology!

The vermilion warriors are gross, lol. Ngl I felt sorry for Cyrus Borg in this scene:

If I were in his place I would literally die of shock. I would just ask Machia to kill me otherwise. Or maybe I would throw up.

But yeah! The time twins are cool and so is season 7!

[daemonsrhaenyras]

Umm hi so like 2 months ago ig I found the 100 and I just finished season 5. And I'm already the kind of person who just goes looking for spoilers so yah I kinda know the fucked up shit that's about to happen. Anyways I just wanna know what the hell happened and I know there's never a proper reason but like with supernatural or any other controversial shows at least there are some reasons uk the writer is sexist, racist etc some sort of explanation to the fucked up shit we just saw before our eyes, but everything with the 100 is so silent I'm mostly a Instagram person n tbh the 100 fandom on Instagram is kind of dead... I really don't understand the show was great frustrating n maybe even a few downer of a seasons but lyk wtf happened did the writers change also lyk at the end of season 5 I think it was written "end of book one" or something so was tht supposed to be the end n d networked forced them to do more season which maybe why they wrote the latter seasons so bad..... Godddd I just want an explanation 😂. It will be really helpful if u could answer literally anything honestly u don't have to respond either u could just totally ignore trust me I have no idea why this is bothering me either but yah..

Disclaimer: While I am a notorious multishipper, I do love Bellamy/Clarke above all others in this show, so that probably colors a lot of my interpretations of events. Additionally, because you did mention that you've looked up spoilers, I am not going to be avoiding them, so be warned.

I mean, most of what the fandom has puzzled together is from random comments or conjecture, none of the cast has outright said anything specifically about season 7 (that has been widely spread, to my knowledge anyway).

In my opinion, season 6 was really freaking great. A breath of fresh air after the grim middle seasons, in fact. Which I think made the absolute let down of season 7 even worse.

Most of 'what went wrong' is usually laid at the feet of Jason Rothenberg, the developer and head executive producer. Basically, the guy seems to be kind of a major dick.

Season 6 was meant to act as a sort of reset of the series (which was why S5 ended with the 'end of book 1' thing--and yes there was a big writer change up for seasons six and seven because of the heavy space/sci-fi aspect of it all), and in my opinion, it worked fairly well. (Yes, some areas of the plot seemed to be recycled from earlier storylines, but I didn't see it as a bad thing, more as a chance for the characters to grow from their previous actions.)

But, then a lot seemed to be happening off screen around the airing of S6 and the filming of S7 that soured things between him and some of the cast members and the fandom. (I am only bringing up what I remember as being relevant to the question of 'why season seven was the way that it was' not an entire laundry list of all behind the scenes drama someone else either has done or could do that.)

Since season 3 if not before, JR was hounded on social media by pretty much every faction of the fandom (but predominantly the Bellarke and Clexa fans) replying in bad faith to anything he tweeted with demands for what they want rather than engaging with his actual tweets. Like, tweeting 'we want Bellarke' or 'we want Clexa' to things that have nothing to even do with the show. This got worse and more vitriolic after Lexa's death and after Bellamy got with Echo.

He always seemed to have the attitude that the show was more high brow or some shit than the usual CW show (even though it's on the same damn network with a lot of the same audiences), and was above shipping and romance, and seemed to resent how often interviews, panels, and press would ask about the ships (canon and potentially future). He and others made statements at various points that might have been intended in a way that the fandom did not take it to be, causing a lot of friction.

Bob Morley (Bellamy) and Eliza Taylor (Clarke) got married in May of 2019 and announced it on social media the following month, during the airing of season 6. In fact, during one of the first episodes of the highly teased Clarke/Josephine body snatching storyline, likely stealing a lot of the fandom's attention away from the show.

Bob injured himself at some point during filming for one of the seasons, and at some point during the writing or filming of season 7, he asked for more time to recover. JR responded by basically writing out his character, and then writing in an ending for Bellamy that makes hardly any sense.

After Season 6, Jason decided he wanted to end the series with season 7 and 'give it a proper ending', while at the same time the series prequel was starting to be developed. Speculation on my part, but with the CW's go-ahead to work on the prequel and use an episode of S7 as a backdoor pilot, the announcement to end The 100 was probably more in service to transitioning over to the new show rather than ending The 100. The writing and characters of The 100 were consequently de-prioritized in favor of the writing for this 'new' character (Bill Cadogan) and his story.

Eliza was also supposed to direct Episode 7 of Season 7, but suffered a miscarriage around that time and couldn't direct. I do not know the exact timeline of events, but I think writing for the end of the season was still happening at that point, and in one of the last episodes of the season the show has Clarke basically mourning the loss of her dead daughter who was tortured into being catatonic. Again, don't know if that was already written at the point of her miscarriage, but like??? Seems like something that could have been avoided.

I'm sure there is a hell of a lot more that I just can't remember right now, so if anyone else wants to chime in, be my guest.

[skamfrance]

Hey! It's been a while since I watched SKAMFR (last season I watched was S4). And today I wanted to catch up and got to this page, and I was curious about a question you answered a few months ago [[I have no idea where the season 7 stuff went and we sort of…didn’t translate season 8 (oops)]] Was your MEGA acc hacked so S7 stuff disappeared? And what's up with S8? Is it bad or something?

Hey, anon, this was actually a recent ask!

OK so...it seems...translating s7 was a fever dream, I think we only did the very first clip of the very first episode? When I said I have no idea, I honestly have...no idea. I don't remember what happened then. This should kind of give you the answer to your question, I think we as a team just lost the will to carry on with the translations 🙃

I mean it's pretty intense work for 10 straight weeks (well more like 20 because Skam FR likes to do 2 seasons back to back), we're all doing it for free on top of everything else that we have to do on the daily. The main source of motivation, was that we were somewhat enthusiastic about the show and wanted to help share it. The fandom honestly started losing interest in the show after maybe...season 4? (I mean season 3 was the PEAK, we never got as much interaction after that), so in short it just got pretty tiring and we gradually lost motivation.

Some of us are still watching the show because it's our ball and chain I suppose (I joke, but I actually think seasons 7 & 8 were better than some of the earlier seasons, which were just OG Skam copied and pasted...), but translating....exhausting :/ - C.

[millennialfangirl]

Take My Hand (take my whole life too) - a Daisy/Daniel post S7 oneshot

Fandom: Agents of Shield

Pairing: Daisy x Daniel

Rating: G

Word Count: 3033

Author’s Note: Here’s a little post season 7 oneshot. Just some ideas I had for how the series could end for our lovely ship. I’m sure the next episode it will get ‘Jossed’. 

Take my hand (Take my whole life too)

Daisy found herself alone, sipping on the last of her champagne. Sounds of laughter fill the backyard where the small reception is taking place. She’s filled with happiness for May and Coulson, but as she stares across the patio, eyes lingering on Sousa as he plays with little Diana Fitz-Simmons, she can’t help but feel a deep well of sadness. May and Coulson have known each other for two decades, and they’ve just now settled down and committed to a life with one another. It makes her hurt for all the missteps and loneliness that her pseudo-parents took to get here. 

 It makes her hurt for herself, and the man she’s just starting to realize means more to her than she’s comfortable with. 

 The sliding of a chair brings her out of her melancholic reverie, and a warm hand settles on her shoulder. Without thinking, she leans her cheek on it as she continues to stare out across the party.

 “Do you want to talk about it?” Coulson prods. 

 Taking in a deep breath, Daisy exhales her sigh. She doesn’t want to dampen his night, but she knows he won’t settle until she’s given him something. 

 “It took so long for you to get your happy ending.” 

 That’s all she says, and she thinks it’s enough to convey all the things she’s feeling. 

 Coulson follows her gaze, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her shoulder. He has easily put two and two together over the past few months as he’s watched Daisy stumble and dance herself around Agent Sousa. 

 “You’re wondering if it’s worth it?”

 She nods, a hand reaching up for his to pull it down with hers as she turns her body to face him. He’s so happy right now, which should be answer enough to her concerns. The burdened weight of years of sacrifice have lifted from his face and posture, replaced with soft laugh lines and warm eyes. A mist settles over her eyes when she remembers that she had lost him once upon a time before traveling to the past, and fixing that one wrong that cut deeper than all the others. He was flesh and bone once again, and he was happily married with a gold band on his finger. He’ll be able to grow old with May instead of having to watch her die one day. 

 “Happiness seems tenuous at best. Our life takes it away so often, why risk it after so many years of not getting to this place?”

 “I get it, I do,” he admits. He takes a swig from his bottled beer and sets it back on the table. His fingers fiddle with the bottle wrapper as he gathers his thoughts. 

 “We took a long time, and yeah, sometimes I wished we hadn’t. I wish we’d figured things out sooner, but I have to believe that it gave us the foundation we need to make it last, that otherwise we would have started something we couldn’t finish.”

 “You know more than anyone what I’ve lost. I know what you’ve lost. I don’t know if I can survive losing someone else.”

 The smallest tear squeezes out as she admits her fears. Coulson wipes it away immediately, and then tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. 

 “You can survive anything. You’ve always been capable of so much more than you know. It’s the very reason you deserve your own happiness. I know you’ll get it one day, because there’s no one that deserves it more than you...except maybe a displaced WWII veteran,” he pauses with a soft chuckle as he glances back at the dark-haired man shuffling a toddler around on his feet.

 Mirth fills his eyes as he returns his gaze to Daisy, her face burning red while she pointedly stares at the ground. 

 “And when you do, you’ll know. The bones will be good, and the time will be right. Every couple is different. Your happy ending might be a lot closer than you think.”

 Daisy scoffs.

 “Nice. Subtle.” 

 Coulson gives her that dad look. 

 “People arrive, so we celebrate, and people leave us, so we grieve. We do what we can with the time in between,” he pauses and gives her a knowing look. “For a sentient chronicom, Enoch understood the crux of humanity. Life can’t be just the things we lose.”

 “I’ll try to keep an open mind,” she begrudgingly acquiesces. 

 He looks mollified as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. She’s reminded of how lucky she is to have him back in her life, to have someone who cares enough about her wellbeing to have this conversation. As they sip their drinks under the night sky, she thinks back on their first night of freedom at the rundown motel after Hydra was exposed. Even then, with half of a chocolate bar, he was trying to take care of her. Not for the first time, she wonders what her life would have been like, and what choices she would have made if she had had a father figure like Coulson in her life all along. Would she have chosen people like Myles and Ward?

 She does know that Daniel’s unlike anyone she’s met before, and she doesn’t just think it’s because he’s a man out of time. There’s a goodness and steadfastness that is woven through him like the suits he still insists on wearing. Somewhere in there is a joke about how girls fall in love with men like their fathers. There are a lot of differences between Daniel and Coulson. There are also a few similarities. Apparently Daniel is the original Agent Suit, and apparently he also likes to take care of her. After going through countless time loops that proved over and over the type of man Sousa is, she’s doing her best to accept the help, and maybe let down her defenses a little bit. But accepting help is one thing, and jumping heart first into a relationship is another. They’ve barely been able to catch their breath since defeating the chronicoms, much less have any time to see if their feelings were more than surface level. 

 A small wrapped box is placed in front of her on the table, bringing her out of her conflicting thoughts.

 “I got something for the new Director. Something every Director of a super top-secret spy organization should have,” he finishes with a grin, looking so much like the adorable nerd he is. 

 “Um...this is your wedding day. I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to be the one giving you a gift.” 

 Coulson merely shrugs. Daisy starts pulling the string on the wrapping paper.

 “It’s also the first day of my life as a civilian.”

 She can’t help but laugh as the dark blue paper falls revealing a simple wooden box.

 “I don’t think you’ll ever be just a civilian.”

 Her wide grin drops from her face when she sees the familiar keys nestled in the now opened box. She looks up at Coulson with wide eyes, words of refusal already in her mouth.

 “No, I--” but he doesn’t let her finish. 

 “Yes. It’s time to pass the torch. She deserves to keep going on adventures, not sit in my garage,” he insists, closing his hand over hers, folding the keys into her palm. 

 ****

 She watches as Coulson steps in, lifting Diana into his arms, swinging her around in a half waltz. Daniel laughs with his hands on his hips in mock anger. Daisy looks away before she gets caught staring, and instead looks to her phone for a distraction. She flips through her photo album, gazing at candids from the small ceremony. Eventually she lands on the infamous picture of Daniel in an alley from literal decades ago. 

 “Looks like I could use a new dance partner.”

 In an instant her phone is fumbling out of her hands, falling hard on the patio underfoot. Her face burns red with embarrassment as her brain tries to catch up to what he said. She blindly reaches for the phone while looking up at him.

 “Dance partner?”

 And she wants to slap herself in the face for her lack of finesse.

 Daniel leans down a bit, holding his hand out for her to take.

 “Let me try that again. May I have this dance?”

 And Daisy doesn’t think she’s ever felt a rush of butterflies quite like that before. No one has ever asked her to dance with them. There weren’t many school dances she actually went to, and all the boys she’s been with before...well dancing wasn’t their style, at least not the kind with soft music and romantic lighting. She’d had a lot of experience with thumping bass, dark rooms, and wandering hands. 

 She likes to pride herself on the growth she’s made, the woman she’s become. She wears her independence like a badge of honor, but in that moment staring at Sousa’s hand, she feels young and completely smitten. 

 Unprepared. Unprepared is what she is, but it can’t be that different from sparring, right? She’s nothing if not ready for a challenge.

 Sousa takes the hand she places in his, and a large grin spreads across his face. It takes her breath away. 

 “I don’t exactly know how to do this,” she admits, embarrassed. 

 “Do what? Dance? No way.”

 Daisy nervously places her hand on his shoulder like she’d seen in the movies, while their fingers spread and squeeze into a firm hold with each other. He feels solid under her touch.

 “True story.”

 “Well, we’ll just have to fix that. Just follow my feet. When I step back with one foot, follow it with your opposite. When I step to the side, just go with me. When I step forward, you step back.”

 “So it is like fighting,” she mumbles mostly to herself. 

 “Hmm?”

 “Nothing.”

 And it’s not so bad after the first couple of awkward shuffles. Eventually they find a rhythm, and Daisy’s surprised to find she’s enjoying the moment. She stops staring at their feet long enough to relax and watch the people around them, her people. She’s lost in thought while staring at Mack and Yo-Yo swaying to the music, arms wrapped tightly together.

 Sousa clears his throat. “It was a beautiful wedding.” 

 “Long overdue, and exactly what they deserve.”

 “You really love them.”

 “More than anything. They’re my family.”

 “You’re lucky to have them. And they’re lucky to have you.”

 “I’m so sorry, Sousa. You must feel so alone,” she responds guiltily.

 “I don’t feel so alone. Not right now. It’s hard to feel alone when I’m dancing with a real-life superhero.”

 “If I’m a superhero, it’s only because of people like you.”

 “People like me?”

 “People who save people like me, who follow us into the dark, and pull us back out. People who roll with the punches and have good hearts. Solid people.”

 “If I didn’t know any better Director Johnson, I’d say you were still trying to sweet-talk me into the Co-Director position.” 

 “That works too.”

 Sousa looks at her skeptically before Daisy continues.

 “So, what do you say? Ready to accept the position?” 

 With that, he is distracted. He chews on his lip in thought.

 “You know I want nothing more than to help you, help SHIELD...It’s just hard for me to imagine being that useful in the 21st century. I’m so behind on modern technology and culture. I worry that I’ll be more of a burden.”

 Daisy’s hackles raise at his blatant disregard for his worth. 

 “You think you’d be a burden? You’re a brilliant detective and strategist. You’re the guy that figured out Hydra’s involvement in SHIELD before anyone else, and was willing to give his life to stop them. You’re the guy that saved me from Nathaniel Malick. You’re the guy who took every time loop in stride and helped me break that time loop. You’re the guy that I…”

 Daisy stops herself mid-sentence, almost saying something that she can’t take back. Something she’s too afraid to voice. Sousa looks down at her, hanging on her every word as she pauses. She shakes her head as if to clear it of her runaway thoughts. She decides to go with a much more palatable truth.

 “You’re the guy I trust to have my back,” she finishes with a gulp. 

 For a moment she thinks she’s gone too far. He’s staring at her intently like he’s trying to crack a code or needle an interrogation suspect. After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks up. 

 “Well, Director Johnson, how can I say no to that vote of confidence.”

 She releases a nervous laugh. “You can’t. That’s the point,” she says with a satisfied smile.  

 “No, I suppose not,” he says with a twinkle in his eye that she has become increasingly fond of. 

 They settle into a comfortable silence as a new song comes on. Neither one of them make to leave the makeshift dance floor, so they drift into the opening tunes of Elvis Presley’s “Can’t Help Falling In Love.” 

 It’s soft and whimsical, and Daisy can’t help but let her mind wander to the man in front of her. He makes her feel things she doesn’t remember feeling before, not even with Lincoln. She’s hyper aware of how perfectly their hands fit together, and the gentle touch of his fingers on her waist. She has to physically stop herself from leaning forward and resting her head on his shoulder, to seek out the comfort she remembers from the barn. She wonders if he would follow her lips willingly just like he had in the time loop.

 She thinks he might always look like he stepped out of a classic, black and white, Hollywood film. 

 As if he can read her thoughts, he pulls her a little closer, their arms wrapping around each other a bit more than what’s expected of two colleagues or platonic friends, but not quite as intimate as Mack and Yo-yo. She can’t stop the next words out of her mouth, because they’re simply true and pure. 

 “This is nice.”

 Because it is. It’s so nice, and she’s still struggling to accept that she deserves to feel something this good. 

 With a knowing smile, he hums in agreement before gently turning her out, guiding her into a slow spin. When she steps back into his arms, neither one hesitates in drawing in a bit closer. The world is spinning around them, but he’s her only focal point. His kind eyes with slight crinkles, the touch of gray around his temples, the mole just below his Adam’s apple...the softness of his lips.

 “You look beautiful tonight.” 

 And if that doesn’t take her breath away. When was the last time someone called her beautiful? She’s heard plenty of other adjectives: strong, stubborn, leader...destroyer. She wants to be all those things, and beautiful too. 

 “Thank you,” she responds quietly, not quite capable of meeting his eyes.

 Then he says her name softly, prompting her to look up. The way he says, “Daisy,” instead of Agent Johnson, the way he’s asking for the answer to a question he doesn’t even know...she’s sure she knows the question.

 It probably sounds a lot like, “Why does this feel so right? Why do your arms feel like home? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

 And her answer would be, “Because your favorite people are people like me. Because you’ve held me close before. Please, kiss me again.”

 She never told him about the time loops. She never wanted to take away his free will. But right now she’s ready to tell him everything. She’s ready for a kiss that can never be erased. 

 An alarm starts blaring from her wristwatch, and the two of them jump apart. She can see several other members of their team all stop what they’re doing and look to their phones and smartwatches. 

 Daisy knows the night is over and duty calls. She’s surprised the whole wedding wasn’t interrupted, but she can’t help but feel angry nonetheless. 

 “Want to catch a ride with me?” she asks the suddenly sullen looking man out of time.

 His face lights up with a smile, and he gestures to her to walk in front of him. 

 “After you, Director.”

 She can feel his eyes on her as they make their way to the tables where she picks up the keys to Lola along with her belongings. It doesn’t feel like he’s leering. It feels protective and comforting, just like someone who’s got her back. 

 Coulson hugs her tightly, and May wishes them luck as they head out to chase down their next mission. It should feel sad, leaving them behind, but it somehow feels right. They’re her family. They’ll always be there for her, but now it’s time for her to lead, and she has one hell of a right hand to help her out.

 As they make their way to the parked car, red and shiny in the moonlight, Sousa can’t help but ask, “What’s an 0-8-4?” 

 He must have taken a moment to read the alert sent to his phone.

 “It’s an object of unknown origin. Probably alien. Think you can handle it?” she asks, and she can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement for the unknown.

 “I’ve traveled 70 years into the future, I don’t think much will surprise me now.”

 At that, she laughs out loud as she slides into the car.

 “You might be right. Alright, last chance. Sure you want in?”

 “Positive. I’m where I need to be.”

 The way he looks into her eyes when he says it lets her know he means so much more than just the next mission. 

 “That’s good to hear. Now buckle up, I just might surprise you now.”

 “I’m counting on it,” he says with an excited grin.

  Daisy can feel his stare, even as they rise above the trees, Lola taking flight. Without looking at him, she takes his hand in her own. 

 If her cheeks turn red and her heart beats harder, well at least Coulson’s not there to notice it.

[seeasweetsmile]

So, I talked earlier about a pidgance one-shot that inspired me with all the wonderful and the lot of content that we get after S7, and here I am, with the story finished ! I hope you like it, gardeners ! Keep doing a sweet and amazing as always ! Also, did I say I love Pokemon, too ? No ? ‘Cause I do.

Title : Surprise visit Disclaimer : Characters are not mine. Summary : Spoilers end S7. Although Pidge was still hospitalized in the galactic garrison, she spent her afternoon quietly with Lance when an old acquaintance arrived to visit her.

Pidge was sitting comfortably against her pillows, her legs stretched out in front of her but covered by white sheets, still wearing her orange and white clothes from the Galactic Garrison Hospital. She played quietly in the game boy advance, while Lance was sitting near her, between the window and her bed. Arms resting on the edge of her bed, he leaned forward to follow her progress in the game. "That's it, you finally arrive at Cerulean City !” Lance sighed. "I thought you'd never get there..." "Yeah, these are quite long passages but these allow you easily increase level when you're at the beginning of the adventure.” She answered automatically.

The red paladin hummed and gasped in surprise as he saw what she was doing to her little character. "Wait, you're just coming into town and you're already going to attack the arena ?!” He exclaimed. "Don’t you even heal your Pokémons ?!” "It's good, I have Ivysaur and Pikachu. Against water types, it will be easy.” She answered in a monotone voice but from which an absolute confident was transpiring.

As she had just defeated the two sidekicks in the arena and was fighting the red-haired champion, two knocks on the door forced her to lift her head. The door slid open, and a brown-eyed, blond head dressed in a white shirt, jeans, and black baskets appeared in the opening.

"Hey, Katie... you, uh... do you remember me ?” He asked, advancing unsteadily at the foot of her bed.

At the sight of the blonde boy, her grip on her game console instinctively tightened. She remembered him very well : he was an old school classmate from middle school, the one who had called her a nerd and had humiliated her in front of the whole class. He was much taller and muscular now, his face was more refined and his bored little asshole face seemed to be gone.

"What do you want, Corentin ?” She said, frowning, though part of her was intrigued by his coming. The blond seemed slightly uncomfortable. He anxiously triturated the bottom of his pockets and hardly dared to look into her eyes, throwing quick eyeballs that oscillated between her, the ground at his feet, and the console she still carried in her hands. "Can we... can we discuss ?” He wanted to know, before launching a glance at Lance -whom he finally greeting by nodded, and returned to her. "Alone ?”

A short silence settled and Pidge's brain was spinning quickly. Only a few tics later, her decision was made and she turned her head to the cuban.

"Lance, can you stay in the hallway ? I don't have one for very long."

The young man opened his mouth, certainly to protest or say anything, but no words came out. He pursed his lips and gave a small smile to his friend before giving a nod. He stood up and Pidge reached for him.

"Hold on. Here, can you beat the boss for me ?" She asked, giving him her game boy.

"Got this." He replied, taking the console and crossing the room, not without casting a suspicious glance at the other boy.

The red paladin softly shut the door and the blonde, as well as Pidge, were finally alone. Corentin turned his attention to the brown-haired while pointing the exit.

“It’s your boyfriend ?" Pidge frowned again. She hesitated between answering "yes" just to shut at him up, and "it's none of your business" because, well, her personal relationships really did not concern him. Instead, she settled down with a cautious and firm "What did you want to talk about ?". He put a hand to his neck to scratch the back of his head, clearly embarrassed. He gave her another look and looked down, unable to hold her gaze for more than two seconds. "You... you cut your hair.” He observed. "I liked your long hair but the short hair, it suits you well too." Pidge, despite his serious face, stared at him confusedly. Really ? He had come, had interrupted her playing time and her peaceful moment with Lance, to tell him that ? Where did these compliments come from, by the way ?

"If you've come all the way just to talk about my hair, you can go home.” She retorted calmly. Then she turned her head to the door and opened her mouth to summon Lance to return. "No !” The blonde hastily dropped into her field of vision, hands in front of him. An eyebrow raised in question, Pidge sank deeper into his cushions and crossed his arms in expectation. The young man capitulated with a sigh, drooping shoulders, and he decided to start after taking a breath, certainly to give courage to himself. "I... actually, I wanted to apologize..." he confessed. At the sight of a second eyebrow raised by his interlocutor, the blonde continued his momentum, not without putting his hands in the pockets to have something to do with his hands.

"...for the attitude I had towards you in middle school. I've been thinking about it from time to time since you left the school, you know ? And I felt bad about making fun of you. I am sorry. It was bad and I shouldn’t have done that...” he admitted with a guilty look. The green paladin opened her mouth in "o", without a word came out. Pidge did not quite know what to say to her old classmate. He seemed to have thought about what he had done, and wanted her to forgive him. Maybe she should be accepting his excuses ? After all, it was years ago now -or at least, it's the impression she had, because with all these months spent in space, their perception of time was slightly altered...

When Corentin don’t received a answer from the brown-haired, he swayed slightly on his feet, continued to speak while mumbling under his breath, loud enough for her to hear. "I mean, it pissed me off that you always know everything and you cut the professor's speech all the time. You did not even put yourself in the shoes of the teacher who felt bad about being belittled by one of his own students..."

Wait...

"...And since you were always the first to answer questions without permission, me and the class didn’t even have the chance to be interviewed. It was hard for us too. We felt left out because of you... " Wut...?

"... sometimes we wondered why you didn’t change school since you were as smart as everyone else. After all, there are lots of specialized schools for people like you, even if it was far, you could very well go by bus or train. It might have cost more, but your parents each have good pay, they could very well pay you for higher education... " Wat ? "...It was not just me and the class who thought so, by the way. The teachers thought so too, I heard them talking about it one day in the teachers' room... " What ?!

"Anyways, I'm glad to have seen you again to apologize to you. You have grown well since last time. And if I understand correctly, you're one of the saviors of the universe, right ? It's so amazing ! Well, I'm not a big fan of glasses because it makes your nerd side even more accentuated, but...” he says, shrugging his shoulders, staring at the walls, unable to stop. "I guess we can’t totally change what we are. I say that, but that's my opinion. All I want, now that all this history of the college is behind us, is to make amends by presenting to you my apolo..."

From that moment, Pidge was not listening anymore. That it. She was withdrawing what she had said earlier about her former classmate ; he had not matured and always remained a little asshole looks despite appearances. The green paladin wished to be able to get up and make her bayard appear to flank him a big blow of Discharge, but the doctor had said that she had to do as little effort as possible if she wanted to recover her strength. Then, instead, she clenched her fists hard until she bleached her knuckles and glared at him through her glasses.

"Exactly. We can’t really change what we are. I remain a "nerd", and you, you remain a moron without brains. Now get out of my room and never come back.” She spat. "What ?!” He exclaimed, blinking. He seemed to be back on Earth and the orders she had just dictated made him click. "Get out of my room and never come back.” She repeated more calmly. "Excuse me ? Didn’t you hear what I said ?!” He shouted, his arms open, looking lost. "Oh yeah, I heard all of it very well !” The green paladin shouted in return, became angry. "All you want is to give yourself a good conscience by excusing yourself, but you don’t think of a damn word !" "Of course yes ! I am sincere !” He pleaded, one hand on his heart. "Shut your fucking quiznack !” She swore, her eyebrows frowned hard. "You must believe me, Katie !” He continued without paying attention to what she was saying -and what she say didn’t make sense by the way. "I'm really sor..." "I told you to leave !” She cut. "Hey !” Suddenly thundered a voice at the entrance.

It was Lance. Who held the pan of the door with one hand and the game boy advance in the other. But who was also frowning and glare at the blonde with a hostile look. "If Pidge told you to get out, then get out. Stop forcing."

The brown-haired heard Corentin quietly slam his tongue to mumble a "here we go, there's the boyfriend who show up now...", but ignored his words. She preferred to focus on Lance, who had advanced at the height of her old classmate, his fist clenched while his other hand still held the game console. "What ? Do you have a problem ?” The blond questioned, clenching his fists as well. "Yeah, look at your face. You'll see, my problem.” Retorted Lance straightly. Half a minute passed while the two boys stared at each other, but it was Corentin who distanced himself while sighing in annoyance. He turned his attention back to Pidge and backed away with an appearance of nonchalance, palms raised at his shoulders.

"You know what, Katie ? Nevermind. I tried to take a step towards you to make peace but for what I see, my efforts will never succeed. Now, I consider that I have no longer to feel guilty. And if you do not want my apologies, then go fuck yourself." "Go fuck yourself too.” She replied immediately. "Nerd..." he grumbled. Pidge showed him her middle finger, extending her arm well, and the door slid shut again to close abruptly, reflecting the state of mind of his surprise visitor. "What an asshole..." Lance mumbled before turning to her. “Who was this guy ?” "As you just said, an asshole.” Pidge sighed. "So, you managed to beat Misty ?”

"Huh ? Uhh, kind of ?” He offered awkwardly as he approached her to give her back her gameboy. "What do you mean ?” She wanted to know, frowning. As Lance circled his seat to return to his chair and lean against the edge of Pidge's bed with his arm against him, the hacker was intrigued. She looked down at the screen in her hands and, after opening the menu to check her badges, she looked up. "That's what I thought. You didn’t succeed to beating her." "She was too difficult !" "How "too difficult” ? You had a Grass type and a Electrik type ! And you even had a Pigeotto to support you in case ! How could you lose, seriously ?" "It's because your Pokémons were half-K.O !” He argues. "I knew that you had to heal them first, but you didn’t listen to me !" "Because I knew exactly what to do, me. I'm sure you didn’t use a strategy and rush with a pure force.” She reproached, narrowing her eyes. "No !” He replied before crossing his arms. "And me too, I played Pokémon when I was a kid, so I know a little bit about strategy too, you know."

The green paladin sighed and put her glasses up on the bridge of her nose. "It doesn’t matter, I just have to start over and- wait. Why am I in the Mt. Moon’s Pokemon Center ?" "When you lose a fight, your avatar respwan at the last place where you were treated your Pokemons. And since you have not been to Cerulean City's Pokemon Center and have gone straight to the arena, well... " "Uh..." She just reply, before she plunged her little character back into the cave to cross it. After a few seconds of silence, where only the little sound of the buttons of the game boy between them, the cuban understood. "You didn’t know... ?” Lance was surprised. Despite her reluctant look, Pidge tilted her head slightly to the side and gave him a smirk. "Although I have 149 of IQ and know a lot about technology, I still have a lot things to learn. And I almost never lost a single fight in my Pokemon versions, so I guess I didn’t really pay attention to that little detail." "Makes sense ..." recognized Lance.

"I still have somes Repels, in addition to Ivyzaur for Geodude and Pikachu for Zubat, it should do it. I would be able to get out of the cave faster than the first time.” She explained.

A second silence settled between them, in which the green paladin was focused on crossing the cave while beating wild Pokémon by OHKO. The red paladin, meanwhile, watched silently the game of his friend. The fact that she did not seem to want to talk about what had happened with that Corentin internally disturbed him. After a few minutes, no longer holding, he moistened his lips and spoke softly.

"Hey, Pidge..."

"Hmm ?” She answered automatically, without looking up from her screen.

He leaned even closer to the edge of the bed. He was at the limit between being slumped on and falling off his chair.

"That guy from earlier... who exactly was he ?"

Pidge stopped her movements immediately, the thumbs hanging over the buttons. She turned her head and watched the curious but fearful glow dancing inside her two blue orbs. Without a word, she held out her hand to ruffle his hair and found it just adorable that he closed an eyelid because of her gesture.

“Someone who is very far from you, Mister Sharpshooter.”

When she withdrew her hand, her palm tickled her and she still had the sensation of the young man's soft hair on the fingertips.

Despite her attempt to reassure him, Lance pouted and stretched his back to the back, to plunge his chin on his forearms. He turned his head aside to look at her silently. He clearly wanted to know more and Pidge crackled under the puppy eyes he was giving her. After sighing, she continue her Pokemon game and briefly told what the cuban wants to hear.

"He was a old classmates guy back in the middle school. Not very smart and he was always bored in class. I had some altercations with him. But no big deal." "That's why he wanted to apologize ?" Deduced the red paladin. Pidge nodded surreptitiously. "When you show a little more intelligence and reflection than others, even cutting the floor to the teacher to explain what you know, it's difficult for your classmates, you see ?" "...they called names and they put you away..." Lance understood, as he widened his eyes to the realization.

"That's why I spent all my time on my computer, my inventions, my books, and with my brother before the Kerberos mission. But all of this it's from the past. Now, my whole family is safe, I have friends that does matter to me, and... " She left her sentence in abeyance, sank into her cushions and then looked up to calmly look at her partner, who instinctively gave him a small smile. "And...? He encouraged tenderly. But the words she had on the tongue suddenly seemed very embarrassing to say as she looked him straight in the eye. Then she lowered her two amber orbs again on her white sheets and lightly pursed her lips together. "And I have you..." she confessed reticently.

Then, she cursed the warm that spread on her cheekbones and her heart that had missed a few beats. She don’t dared to look at the young man. It was only when she heard him sneer that she looked up and met Lance's grin, impish but happy. "I'm glad to have you too, Pidge." The brown-haired's stomach made a loop and she fluttered her eyes to look away. For the umpteenth time, she turned her attention to her game boy, where a wild Zubat had blocked her as she was one step from the exit of the cave. Damn it...

[hencethebravery]

In before S7 fucks with a happy ending and we don’t get to see any of this. Unequivocally here for Emma Swan being a mom from day one on her terms. I love Killian as a pop don’t get me wrong, but I wanted this, ok? Let me have it. Oh, and disclaimer, I am not pregnant nor have I ever been pregnant, so forgive me if some of the details are totally incorrect. We’re going for mood here, okay?

+ There’s an odd, fleeting moment in which she worries that her body is made of nothing more than wet paper. It’s odd for a few reasons, one of them being she’s been pregnant before; the other being the all-powerful magic coursing through her veins acting in direct contradiction to that concern. All those blue, river-like rivulets running beneath her pale, vulnerable flesh, and she feels like she may as well be nothing more than a paper doll for a few hellish moments.

She thinks of how easily the body breaks, how the tip of an especially sharp sword can run straight through as if you weren’t even there. Only you are, and she was, and it fucking hurts. It’s a difficult thing to forget when you’ve felt that particular sting, that strange, unsettling feeling of being something akin to a leaky faucet.

And not just once, but hundreds of times. Hundreds of unbearable, nauseating visions of a death she had been helpless to prevent.

“It’s not like I’m just seeing it,” she had explained to Killian, “I can feel and hear everything. Even taste the blood in my mouth.”

He had only looked at her, helpless, a man of action without the tools to help the woman he loves, and the guilt had been crushing. To be the reason behind that look on his face, to cause even more pain in a life built on tragedy and she can’t bear it. So she will, of course.

It's warm and July and she pees on a stick with her skirt hiked up over her knees. The variation in wardrobe was an unusual change of pace for her, she’s aware. The strange looks from the friendly townsfolk are entirely unnecessary. Like how dare she be outfitted in anything other than jeans. God forbid. A quick trip to a used clothing store and the small issue of temperature-related discomfort had been resolved. Her closet is full of button-up dresses and long, breezy skirts she’s probably seen on a few episodes of Friends but it’s whatever—she’s finally comfortable.

She should get a blood test to be sure, she knows. But also? She knows. She's always felt like she knows less than she does; it's a constant battle she's fought for most of her life, but this? This she knows. So she tosses the stick in the trash and smooths out her skirt and waits out on the porch with a bottle of cold beer in her hand. Because she knows she'll miss the weight of it. The feel of the smooth glass against her skin, those first few sips when it’s managed to stay as cold as she likes.

No more beer from here on out. Or wine... or rum, which is going to make that exaggerated pout show up on Killian’s stupid face more often than not. Which isn’t so bad. He’s got a nice face and she’s been craving fruit juice lately anyway.

When he hops up the front steps a few moments later he looks pleasantly exhausted. The sunburn from a few days ago has turned to a healthy brownish glow, and she takes note of the dirt around his neck, on his hand and forearms. It could be the hormones (and really, her libido and Killian Jones have never been remotely appropriately timed before), but she very much wants to see if she’s right about how he must taste right now. Like salt and earth and something so uniquely his own—flavors and scents she’s just never been able to place. His skin is probably warm from being out in the sun all day.

She almost starts at the sound of his voice, carrying a humorous edge that suggests she’s been sitting in curious, rude silence since his arrival. 

“Swan? You planning on drinking that?”

“Oh,” she answers, laughing and shaking her head, “no, I changed my mind, you go ahead.”

He winks as he takes the beer from her outstretched hand, and she pauses to take in the scene. As if there was a camera in her hand, like she needs to remember every single detail of this moment. The sight of the beaded condensation, dripping down the side of the bottle as it sweats in the sun; his long, thick eyelashes sweeping over the tops of his cheeks when he winks. There’s a familiar summer breeze whipping through the trees, and she feels the bottom of her skirt wrap around her bare feet.

“How was your day, my darling?” he asks, taking a seat next to her, his arm falling over her shoulders. “Get any of that planting done?”

She’s not sure when exactly it happened, maybe many years ago when Henry was born, or maybe a few months ago when she got married, or maybe that time has yet to come, but objectively Emma Swan is an adult. She has a child, she’s on the brink of having another, she’s loved and lost and loved again—she’s responsible for the safety of an entire magical community, and yet she giggles at the question, seemingly powerless to stop the unattractive snort that follows.

“I know I’m clever, love, but I wasn’t aware I said something amusing just then.”

“It’s—I’m sorry,” she tries to say, tries very hard to clarify, “I’m sorry, it’s not... well, I mean, it’s not that funny unless you have all the information.”

“I know I’ve been gone most of the day,” he answers, taking another sip, “but I can’t fathom what could’ve happened in the few hours since I saw you last that would make what I said so delightful.”

She knows he’s having a hard time not being charmed by her laughter, her inability to make sense.

“I love you at your most unfathomable, you know.”

“I know.”

And a part of her feels just a little bit cruel, taking an odd kind of joy in his total ignorance. There’s another part of her, a larger part, that wants to bask in these few moments before their lives change forever. Before he very inelegantly chokes on his beer, or even worse, drops the bottle on the porch and runs off to clean it up before he can properly digest the news.

There’s also another, smaller part of her, the selfish part, that doesn’t want to share the news just yet. And she knows she’s a veritable kaleidoscope of feeling in this moment, but it’s just, right now? Right at this moment, in the few hours and minutes and seconds before she reveals the news, this child is hers and hers alone. It’s not as if she doesn’t want Killian to be a part of this, doesn’t want to share this responsibility with her partner, her lover, her friend—but it’s that same childish part of her she just hasn’t been able to shake. Like the extra roll at dinner, sat at a table with 10 other hungry children and they had deigned to give her the last one.

And then there’s the double-edged reality of having to share Killian. The other thing she’s never had to share. Until now, that is. What child of Killian Jones is going to want to be deprived of his attention for even a moment? It’s an addicting thing, the feeling of his eyes on you, the knowledge that he will do all in his power to resolve every inconvenience, no matter how slight.

“Emma, are you alright?” 

“Yeah, sorry,” she smiles and gazes adoringly at his jawline in her periphery, bumps her nose against the late day fuzziness, the smell of yeast and saltwater on his lips, “I’m just... taking a minute.”

“To do what?” he asks, placing the empty bottle at his feet. He tucks some stray, short pieces of hair behind her ear. After she’d had it cut earlier in the spring, Killian had delighted in having to constantly push the light, freshly trimmed pieces away from her face.

It’s when she feels him getting distracted, his own nose prodding at her neck, his lips against her bare shoulder, that she finally concedes. Gives in to the fluttering in her belly and tries to ignore the loud voices of other, less experienced Emma’s in her head and says, almost in a whisper—

“To tell you that I’m pregnant.”

She keeps the windows open all summer, through the fall and into winter. Wears loose clothing that she can take on and off without difficulty. She indulges in every single craving, for food or sex, there’s very little hesitation in obtaining either. She cries all the time and doesn’t feel bad about it (most of the time). Had tried to hide it at first, had worried it was getting to be a bit too much for the doting husband and he had to be getting sick of it.

“You’ll never be rid of me,” he said, soft but firm, wiping the tears away. Probably getting some snot on his hand, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Remember?”

“Yeah,” she answered, smiling through the embarrassing hiccups that come with too much crying and not enough air, trying not to worry about how heavy she must be on his lap, “yeah, I remember.”

As it turns out, pregnant, non-jailed Emma loves green beans. They store up a lot of their fresh ones from the garden, but they run out sometime after Christmas and she insists that if she uses magic, “they just don’t taste the same.”

It’s probably got something to do with the soil or the sun, or just good old fashioned hard work, but either way, they run out and she resorts to eating frozen beans from a bag.

“They taste like the freezer,” she mentions one morning, eating from the bag as if they were potato chips, staring a little too hard at Killian’s shoulders while he washes the dishes.

“That icebox is a bloody marvel,” he answers, ignoring her complaints, “you’re eating those out of season, if you’ll recall.”

“It’s not the same.”

“Then stop eating them.”

She huffs and walks away as proudly as she can, which is challenging with the large, unattractive gait and swollen feet.

When she had been pregnant with Henry, she had spent most of the time resenting his existence. Had hated the look of her enormous belly under her jumpsuit, his small kicks against her spine.

“I wasn’t angry,” she confessed to Killian one night, “not really.”

They were side by side, covered in thick quilts since Emma refused to keep any of the windows shut, whispering in conspiratorial tones as if her parents were sleeping down the hall and she could get busted for having a boy in her room.

“I mean, I was,” she corrected, trying to figure out how the hell she felt about something so complicated as carrying a child she knew she couldn’t keep, “but it was because I knew I’d have to give him up. So I hated every minute of it,” pausing, “I guess I was more sad than anything else.”

“Henry knows how much you love him, Emma,” he answered sleepily, his hand resting against the top of her belly as it always did these days, as if they were magnets, “you needn’t feel guilty.”

“I know, but I can’t help it sometimes.”

Reason 1,475,399 Killian Jones is one of the greatest men she’s ever known—he’s learned to let her wallow in it. Especially since she’s gotten pregnant. It would be great, if he could fix every single thing wrong with her life, really, it’d be amazing, but realistically, it’s not going to happen, and sometimes it feels good when he says nothing at all.

Because, yeah, having another baby that you’re going to keep and love and raise from birth while your abandoned child looks on with just that little... hint of longing in his eyes, and she knows that look because she has it too, it just... it really sucks. And there’s no getting around it, so sometimes her husband keeps his lovely mouth shut and holds her a little bit tighter instead.

Her water breaks in early spring and she refuses to give birth in a hospital. In any sterilized environment of any kind. The mere thought of it sends her reeling, and since Killian doesn’t really know any better, he doesn’t put up much of a fight.

“I was born at home,” he says, almost like he’s talking to himself, “turned out just fine.”

“And it will be fine,” squeezing his hand. “I promise.”

There’s a midwife on hand, and her mother. Killian stays in sight the entire time, his expression alternating between abundant joy and feverish worry. Thankfully, labor doesn’t take very long. Although, technically, she had been in labor for about a day, she hadn’t really notified anyone until there were a few more hours before she could even start to push.

“You can be mad at me later, okay?” she had muttered between clenched teeth, trying to breathe and failing miserably. “I need you to call my mother.”

“Impossible woman,” he had mumbled underneath his breath, phone in hand. It was when she noticed the smile on his face, the one that he couldn’t contain? That was when she finally felt it. The happiness.

Her name is Lucy and she smells like what Emma imagines Home to smell of. Like clean countertops and fresh air. And Killian’s tea steeping on the nightstand, and her favorite lotion and the scent of his cabin on The Jolly Roger and all the things you might name if you were a poet. Which she’s not. All she knows is that Lucy smells amazing and she can’t stop kissing the top of her head. Which is covered in hair.

“Lucky kid,” she whispers, smiling up at Killian, “wonder where she gets that from.”

It’s amazing that he’s even heard her, what with the inability to look away from their daughter, his eyes glazed over. “I haven’t the foggiest.”

She’s also soft, and Emma can’t stop running her fingers back and forth over Lucy’s small wrists, or her fingertip down her nose. Which is small and petite, like a button she can’t stop pressing. She never even held Henry. There’s a memory of it, somewhere in the back of her mind, but she knows it’s a falsehood, and this is real—perhaps the realest moment she’s ever known.

She keeps meaning to ask, “Want to hold her?” but she’s not sure she can let go just yet, and Killian seems to understand. Every once in a while she can feel his hand against the back of her head, or hear the odd sniffle. Lucy’ll be in his arms soon enough, and she can’t wait for it, really. She knows it’ll be a sight to see. Just—in a second.

One of her favorite things to do after the baby’s born is sit on the porch with Lucy in her arms. Swaddled in a blanket, resting against Emma’s warm, vital chest. Their hearts beating together. She’s quieter than Emma expected, what with her rather stubborn parentage, but the more she thinks about it, the more it makes sense.

The way Killian stills in the quiet of an empty room, that faraway look she’s seen in his eyes. Her own yearning for the silent spaces, those places where she can be entirely herself. As a smaller foster kid in a large, noisy household, she had always found a place to hide. Lucy’s just the same, a silent observer with the exception of some adorable grunts or whimpers, and Emma knows they should count themselves lucky.

“I for one can’t wait for that laugh,” he had said one morning, the back of his finger stroking her plump, red baby cheeks. “Isn’t that right, m’lady?”

No laughter, not yet, but she sure smiles a lot, especially with Killian hovering over her, talking in prose and treating her like a princess.

“Well, she is.”

Sometimes Killian joins her in the morning, other times he’s had to head down to the docks early, but either way, rain or shine, it is one of her very favorite things. It’s how she knows she was right before—holding on to all that pain and regret. All that sadness after losing Henry. It hadn’t been for nothing.

It’s coming up summer again, but the mornings are still cool enough that she takes a quilt outside, a mug of hot tea since she still can’t have caffeine and too much sugar isn’t great for the baby either.

Some wildflowers have started to bloom around the porch, down towards the gate, and she gets a whiff of it as soon as she sits down. The heady, perfume-like aroma has her feeling all kinds of content, the weighted sensation of Lucy in her arms an added perk.

“How are you this morning?” she asks softly, rocking her ever so slightly, trying to avoid jostling a baby with a full belly. “Are you happy?”

Lucy coos, not quite a laugh, but it’s there, bubbling under the surface. All it’ll take is one smile from Killian, some silly sea shanty and it’ll all be over. She’s never felt so relieved in her life, so exceedingly grateful to know the calm, joyful notes of her daughter’s heart. To know that her daughter is one of those people who has no reason to be found—she was never lost. A child so loved, that there’s no need to make a rush of anything. Laugh when you want, cry when you want, speak when you want.

“You just take your time,” she whispers, smiling down at the full, tired expression on Lucy’s face. “We’ll be right here.”

[spartanguard]

some things never change (2/?)

continuing (finally) my OUAT S7 spec fic. this will have at last 4 parts; not sure exactly how many yet, but we’ll see how the ideas flow. I 100% do not expect most of this to happen, but a girl can dream! this chapter: Hooked Queen brotp and Captain Cobra, with a wee bit of Grandpa!Killian

part 1 | 2.5k

Lunches with his sister were always more dramatic than they needed to be. To be honest, Killian wasn’t completely sure why he put himself through them so often.

“Seriously, Killian. One date wouldn't hurt you.”

“The answer is no, Regina; we’ve been over this.”

She sighed. “I know, I know. But she's really sweet! She teaches the first-graders!”

“That's fantastic, but I'll have to pass.”

Regina harrumphed into her salad. They had this conversation literally every week: she wanted to set him up with one of her cute coworkers, and he wanted to be left alone. Out of a nervous habit, he twirled his wedding band with his thumb.

“You know that she wouldn't want you to be like this,” Regina said quietly, placing her hand over his to stop the nervous fiddling.

“I know,” he admitted, and he did. But the few times he’d tried to go on dates, it just never clicked. Emma had been the only one for him, and it wasn't fair to another girl to try to fill that void with something unattainable.

“I just worry about you, all alone up there at the bar.”

“I’m not alone; I have my regulars.”

“Customers don’t count as friends, Killian.”

“Since when? They did on Cheers.”

“That was a TV show!”

“I’ll have you know being a bartender is not a role for the introverted. People trust you with their deepest, darkest secrets, and come to you for advice.”

“You’re romanticizing it.”

“You’d know better if you ever stopped by.”

Regina just scoffed and continued eating, so Killian followed suit and bit into his sandwich. His big sister was right that his existence was a bit of a lonely one, but it at least wasn’t boring. He had fond memories to look back on and a livelihood he enjoyed. And he didn’t have false hope, unlike some people he knew, but he’d save that discussion for another day.

Typical Regina, she changed the subject anyway. “When’s the last time you talked to Uncle?”

Of course, it was to one of his least favorite. “I texted him on his birthday.”

“That’s it?”

“Yup.”

“That was six months ago!”

“And?”

She sighed again. “I just wish you wouldn't hold this grudge against him.”

“I’m not the one who basically said ‘I told you so’ at the funeral of your murdered wife,” he spat back in a rare moment of anger. The man may have basically raised them, but some wounds tend to linger. He’d let go of most of his negative feelings—he barely even thought about the asshole who killed his wife; the justice system was seeing that he got his—but hearing it from family who'd never liked her in the first place still stung.

The rest of lunch passed in a terse silence, both finishing their meals quickly in order to leave sooner. He loved his sister, he did, but every now and then they had these weird fights caused by all the lingering baggage in their pasts.

Finally, meal over and bill paid for, he followed her out to the parking lot. Before getting into her car, she turned to face him and pulled him into a bruising hug. “I love you, Killian, no matter what,” she murmured.

He hugged back tight. “Love you too, big sis.” Despite their disagreements, they were really all each other had. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, they said their goodbyes, and he began the quick walk back to the bar.

As he walked, he mulled over some of the things Regina had said. Yeah, he was a bit of loner, but solitude had never much bothered him. There were times—more often than he’d like to admit—that things felt a bit empty, like something was missing, but ultimately chalked that up to the loss of Emma.

His thoughts wandered a bit to Henry; while it was true that he probably couldn’t call any of his other regular patrons a friend, he’d found an interesting companionship with the young man. Though there wasn’t a significant age gap between them, he’d always felt a bit of a fatherly connection with Henry that he couldn't quite explain. Then he remembered what the lad had told him yesterday, and put a bit of speed in his steps; he truly was honored that Henry would want to introduce him, of all people, to his daughter, especially when he’d only just learned of the girl’s existence.

When he arrived back at the bar, he wasn’t surprised to see Henry already at a booth, with a short, dark-haired person sitting across from him. Bill, one of his few employees, was manning both the bar and kitchen for the meager lunch rush, and it looked like Henry and Lucy were eating. They were hunched over their baskets of food, talking quietly and clearly in collusion. Considering they’d just met, they already seemed to be as thick as thieves. A pang shot through Killian’s heart; he and Emma had never gotten to the having-kids thing, so he was happy that Henry would have this experience.

He hung his leather jacket on a hook by the door and nodded a greeting to Bill. Suddenly, he was nervous to approach Henry, though he wasn’t sure why. Perhaps he didn’t want to interrupt what was clearly a bonding moment? Or was it something about the girl that felt...off?

(Not a bad off, but he’d had an odd moment of déja vu when Henry said her name the previous day that he couldn’t quite place.)

Nevertheless, he swallowed and took cautious steps toward their table. When Henry noticed his approach, he broke into a big grin, but then seemed to pull it back to a friendly smile—though one he could hardly contain. Killian was a bit taken aback at Henry’s enthusiasm, but it was understandable, he supposed; this must be a fine young lady if he was so eager to show her off. It eased a bit of Killian’s nervousness.

When he was within earshot, he could hear Henry whisper “Remember what we talked about” to the girl, before standing to properly greet him. “Hey, Killian!”

“Hello, lad,” he said warmly, offering his hand, which Henry eagerly took after slight hesitation.

He then gestured to the opposite booth. “Killian, I’d very much like you to meet my daughter, Lucy.”

Again, that sense of familiarity took over Killian as he looked at the girl. She was adorable—about ten years old, with curious brown eyes, tan skin, and a friendly smile. He extended his hand to her, too, adding, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, milady.”

She stared at his hand for a moment, and then, to his surprise, jumped off the seat and barrelled into him, wrapping her arms around his waist in a tight hug. Her voice was muffled by the way her face was pressed against his stomach. “I can’t believe I’m finally—”

“Lucy,” Henry cut her off with a warning tone.

“—Uh, meeting you, Gr-Killian!” she finished, albeit sheepishly. Once he got over his momentary shock, Killian returned her embrace, though a bit more gently.

After a long moment, she pulled back, giving him a huge grin, before hopping back up in the booth and scooting to the far end. She pat her hand on the open space, saying, “Come, sit down!”

“Do you have a moment to sit and talk?” Henry asked with some awareness of the fact that this was still Killian’s place of work.

But it was early yet, and the middle of the week, so it wasn’t likely he’d have customers until much later. “Sure,” he answered, and slid in next to Lucy.

He took a peek at her plate—grilled cheese and onion rings; Emma’s favorite. He pointed at it, commenting, “You have excellent taste, milady.”

She giggled—a sound that warmed his heart, for some inexplicable reason—and exchanged a look with her father. Killian looked to Henry, who was smirking.

“Am I missing something?” How were two people who had just met already sharing inside jokes?

“Don’t worry about it,” Henry brushed off. Killian cocked his head in confusion, but was then distracted by a flurry of movement from Lucy.

“Do you wanna see my book?” She had pushed the plate to the side to make room for a large, hardcover book that was nearly half her size. It looked well-loved and Once Upon A Time was printed on the front in faded lettering.

“What’s it about?” he asked, never one to curb a child’s excitement.

“It’s about my fa—”

“—Fairy tales,” Henry interrupted again. “It’s about fairy tales, though maybe not the ones you know.”

It had been years since Killian read any fantasy stories, but Lucy’s enthusiasm—and whatever the two of them seemed to be hiding—piqued his interest. “May I?” he asked, gesturing to the tome.

Lucy nodded and pushed it toward him. His hand hovered over the cover before opening it. There was no title page; it opened on an illustration of a prince and princess hugging. He glanced over the text to find the story of Snow White, but far different from what he knew. A few pages later was an alternate tale of Cinderella, as well as that of Hansel and Gretel. It was quite impressive.

“Dad, it’s not working!” Lucy whisper-yelled from next to him.

Killian glanced up from the image he was studying—of a true-to-nature Jiminy Cricket—and was confused. “What’s not?”

Henry looked slightly panicked, and Lucy seemed frustrated. But Henry quickly regained his calm. “Uh, do you want to come outside with us for a minute?”

“What’s going on?” It was unlike Henry to be this secretive, and Killian was starting to grow worried for the young man.

“Just...I just need to show you something.” Without another word, Henry slid out of the booth and took off for the door.

Whatever was happening, Killian felt compelled to make sure he was alright. So he too slipped out and followed, grabbing his coat and slipping it on before heading outside.

Henry was already walking across the way toward the docks; Killian jogged to catch up. Suddenly, Lucy was sprinting past him into the street, and he only just managed to grab her shoulder before she ran out into it alone—how had no one told her the dangers of running into busy roads? They ran across together once traffic cleared and hurried to meet up with Henry, who was boarding one of the moored vessels.

Killian stared at the ship in awe: it was an old-fashioned sailing ship, all wood, two masts, and the sails carefully stowed away. Déja vu struck again when he set foot on the deck, and it almost felt like the ship was greeting him. That was impossible, of course, but he couldn’t shake the feeling, and it just added to the overall weirdness of this entire situation.

“Henry, is this ship yours?” Killian wondered aloud as he glanced around. Lucy had dashed to the prow and was running her hand along the railing fondly, as if she was reuniting with an old friend.

Henry shook his head. “No. It’s yours.”

Killian snapped his head to Henry’s. “Beg your pardon?” He’d never owned so much as a sailboat, let alone a ship.

He was expecting a joke, but Henry seemed sure of what he was saying. “The helm is yours, Captain,” he said warmly, gesturing to the massive wooden wheel.

The title made Killian flinch; there was that niggling sense of familiarity again, but he didn't know why—he'd only reached lieutenant in the Navy. Perhaps it was a Star Trek reference? (He'd always been more a Star Wars fan himself.)

But, no—this was genuine, and concern again pooled in his belly. “Henry, is everything quite alright?” he asked quietly, not wanting to alarm the little lass.

He chuckled. “Everything’s fine. Just...humor me?” It was a request more than a demand, and there was something boyish in his expression that Killian was finding hard to disappoint.

So he complied, casting once last sideways glance at Henry before ascending the steps to the bridge. It couldn't hurt him to play along with whatever this was for a few minutes.

It was truly magnificent—a work of ancient craftsmanship. In the leather topping the helm’s pedestal, a series of crossed-out symbols were carved. He briefly ran a finger through the indents—and an image flashed in his mind, of a young boy and an overall sense of betrayal. He stepped back in shock. “What the bloody hell was that?”

He was keenly aware of two sets of eyes on him and his exclamation. Was he being set up? He looked back at Henry, who gave him a knowing nod—but what was it that he knew?

And, based on the vision he’d just had, why did it give him the feeling that he was the one forgetting something?

Hesitantly, he approached the wheel. The polished wood was well-worn and just standing in front of it filled him with a sense of peace, which was odd because had no idea how to sail this kind of ship. But the fond smile Henry was giving made him somehow believe he had.

Gingerly, he reached out to grab one of the spokes of the wheel...and it all washed over him:

LiamMilahNeverlandSmeePanBae—

He staggered a bit, but held tight to the wheel.

—CoraStorybrookeBlackbeardEmma—

He gasped.

—EmmaEmmaCharmingSnowEmmaBelleReginaEmmaHenryLucy—

“EMMA!” he shouted, eyes flying open as his entire life slammed into him: all the years, all the heartache, and all the beautiful memories he made with his True Love—who was quite obviously not dead...though he didn't know where exactly she was.

Suddenly, Henry was in front of him. “Hook?” he greeted, smirking.

And then it hit him—this was Henry, his stepson, who found him and now had woked him up. “Oh, lad,” he sighed, and pulled him in tight for a long overdue hug that was reciprocated in full.

A small voice interrupted their embrace. “Grandpa Killy?” They broke apart and Lucy was looking up, a hopeful expression on her face. It had clearly been a few years since whatever curse took them away because she'd grown since he last saw her, quite a bit—and he missed it all. “My darling, Lucy,” he exclaimed, bending down to scoop her up; at least she wasn't too big for him to twirl around. “You found us.”

Her little arms wrapped tight around his neck and she buried her face in his neck. “I missed you,” she whispered.

“And I you, love, so much.” The past few years were a fog, but he knew why they had been so empty—he needed the rest of his family.

He looked to Henry. “Where is…” he started, trailing off because he wasn't sure he wanted to know if something bad had happened to his wife.

“We don't know yet,” Henry replied, knowing the question. “But if you're awake, we're one step closer to finding her, and everyone.”

“Aye.” He pulled Lucy tighter, resolved to do whatever it took to reunite everyone. “We’ll always find them.”

tagging some peeps: @kat2609 @thesschesthair @optomisticgirl @fergus80 @xpumpkindumplingx @its-like-a-story-of-love @shipsxahoy @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @wingedlioness @fairytalesandtimetravel @disastergirl @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @jscoutfinch @nfbagelperson @stubble-sandwich @athenascarlet @kmomof4 @ilovemesomekillianjones @the-captains-ayebrows @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thegladelf @leiandcharles @galadriel26 @capitaine-odette and a few others who wanted tags: @crisanja @superchocovian @fangirl-till-it-hurts @cjanddilly (apologies if i missed anyone/am being annoying lol)

[mittensmorgul]

A lot of the show fans have come to the conclusion that Adam's soul went to heaven when he was molotov'd, like how Jimmy died after Cas' first death. But-- then we get Death telling Dean to choose between removing Sam OR Adam's soul from the cage. Meaning he's still probably down there. What do you think? Is he in heaven, or is he still down in the cage with a mentally unstable powerful archangel.

I don’t mean to sound dismissive here, but I get asked this question every few months, and I’ve answered it so many times that I kinda have an insta-groan reaction to it. I can only link you to everything I’ve said on the subject before:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/130962811400/they-remembered

Oh, here’s a post from 2014 responding to that:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/104837064620/cinnamonsentry-roguishfeathers

I kinda allude to Death’s repeated “testing” of Dean here:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/144380034745/the-empty-and-amaras-offer but the post really isn’t about that.

I think we touch on it here:

http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/153534420375/floatingaboveclouds-spearywritesstuff 

I know I absolutely have answered this ask multiple times, but I either neglected to tag those replies properly, or tumblr’s search function is just... not very functional... (not to mention that it has now been like 2 hours since I started trying to reply, and my internet has gone down like 9 times, and I am at a point where I would rather fling the router out into the thunderstorm to meet its deserved fate with a direct damn lightning strike than continue to rage-search my own blog for stuff in between thunder booms... sorry :P)

But the primary arguments for this are based on Death’s ~limitations~. Yes he’s a massively powerful being who isn’t sure if he’s older than god or not because it all happened so long ago it’s gone blurry... but he can’t really interfere too much with Creation or else he could inadvertently set off a rolling series of cosmic consequences, you know. And that was one of Deaths very first lessons to Dean.

6.11 is still in my top 5 favorite episodes of this entire show, and it clearly lays out how those consequences play out if the balance isn’t restored. There is a natural order, and Death must remain an impartial witness, or the entire system breaks down. It would be chaos.

He began his “bargain” with Dean by essentially proving his point-- that Dean didn’t care about the cosmic consequences, he only cared about Sam. He did this by giving Dean that choice, KNOWING that Dean would always choose Sam. It wasn’t about altruism on Dean’s part. Because Dean had thrown Adam’s soul into the bargain FIRST. DEAN initiated that. Which meant that Death already KNEW that Dean believed Adam’s soul was there, whether or not it were literally true. It gave Death some leverage, already putting Dean on the spot, making him understand how wrong and selfish what he was asking for really was.

But Death held up his end of the bargain anyway, even after Dean failed the “test.” Because it was never really a test, it was a lesson. A lesson about the consequences of messing with the natural order. That Dean honestly did understand. Instead of just essentially quoting the entire first act of 6.11 here, please just go read the section marked Act 1 on the Superwiki transcript. I’ll sum it up here:

Dean goes in full of false bravado, trying to use Death’s ring as leverage to secure Death’s help in retrieving Sam’s soul. Death swats that idea down, points out Dean’s hubris, and tells him to get on with it.

It doesn’t really come through in the transcript but Dean’s basically bs’ing his way through this whole conversation, and he sort of throws Adam in as an afterthought, because if Death is gonna be down there saving Sam anyway, why not ask for Adam too.

Death appears to consider this request, and then asks Dean to pick. I don’t see it as Death “considering the request and then forcing Dean to choose one or the other.” Death KNEW who Dean would pick if given a choice. Even if it was a FALSE CHOICE, because it never really was a choice at all. But making it seem like Dean actually DID have a choice... well, it serves SO MANY narrative purposes.

It leaves the reality of Adam’s location vague and up for interpretation

It puts ALL of Deaths motivations and actions up for further consideration

it makes it obvious that Dean’s first choice will always be Sam. he didn’t even hesitate.

it showed us that regardless of the truth, Dean still believed that Adam might be in the cage, giving Death even MORE leverage over Dean

and letting Dean experience the full weight of the guilt that he HAD made that choice

But the original story of An Appointment in Samarra is all about fate. It’s about the fact that you can’t really outrun death once it’s your time to go. It boils down to the equivalent of, “No matter what choice you make, we’ll always end up here.” Death always wins.

Billie even mentions Death’s fascination with Sam and Dean, how he’d had this soft spot for them, and found them mildly entertaining, clearly favoring the two of them for having brought them back (or allowed them to be brought back) over and over again in seeming violation of the natural order.

The other main argument against Adam actually being in the cage is the fact that Sam has never ONCE mentioned the fact. His soul was trapped in the cage with Michael and Lucifer for nearly two centuries (a year and a half in hell time, based on Dean’s 4 months equaling 40 years, would be about 180 years, give or take, presuming Cage Time was the same as Hell Time). We’ve seen him have flashbacks to the cage in s6, in s7, and again in s11. And never once did they ever have anything to do with Adam. Or even with Michael. But you’d think after all this time it would weigh on Sam just a little to know that his brother was still trapped in the cage.

It was never brought up during s11 when Sam was negotiating with Lucifer. It was never brought up by Lucifer himself throughout s11 or s12 to torment Sam and Dean with. Because it would torment them.

Again, apologies if any of this is less-than-lucid, but I’ve had it up to HERE with the internet going kerplonk every four minutes. I’m just grateful I never lost the entirety of this post at any point during the storm. :P

Also, I’m seriously considering creating an Asked And Answered FAQ sort of page for commonly posed questions such as this one. That would be SUPER convenient for me! Okay, Imma tag it Stuff I Get Asked A Lot for the time being. :P

[incandescent-creativity]

I Got Tagged In a Thing!

I was tagged to do this by @empressravenrose and since this is the first time that someone has tagged me in something, I’m going to do it (even though it’s 85 questions long.) 

If you wanna know more about me keep reading under the cut!

Oh and you’re supposed to tag ten people, but good lord do I not have ten friends on here so... if you see this and want to do it, go ahead!

The Last...

Drink: milk

Phone call: couple hour long phone call with boyfriend

Text message: screenshot of a funny conversation between a friend and I

Song You Listened to: Movie Medley by Straight No Chaser (SUPER GOOD)

Time You Cried: Don’t remember, but it was probably during a late-night stressing episode. Those are fun.

Dated Someone Twice: I mean I’ve been in a committed relationship for the past six years so. There’s that.

Kissed Someone and Regretted it: see above

Been Cheated On: I’m lucky enough to not have that particular experience under my belt

Lost Someone Special: my grandfather died some ten or eleven years ago, but I recently had my best friend cut out of my life. I haven’t heard from them in four and a half months.

Been Depressed: I’ve had my low days, but nothing I would call depression. That’s serious business, I wouldn’t claim that lightly.

Gotten Drunk and Thrown Up: never thank god

Three Favorite Colors

12. Blue

13. Green

14. Red

In The Last Year, Have You...

15. Made New Friends? At least one in my Photo class, so yeah!

16. Fallen Out of Love? Nope, still going strong

17. Laughed Till You Cried: Most definitely, there’s been some killer YouTube videos that have driven me to hysterics.

18. Found Out Someone Was Talking About You? I mean, nothing comes to mind. So...no?

19. Met Someone Who Changed You? Not in the past year, I don’t think so. Is that sad?

20. Found Out Who Your Friends Are? The same people that I had thought were my friends, so, yeah I guess so.

21. Kissed Someone On Your Facebook List: don’t have a FB, so--nope.

General

22. How Many Of Your FB Friends Do You Know In Real Life: Don’t have one

23. Do You Have Any Pets: A golden retriever, a younger puppy, two outdoor cats and an inside cat.

24. Do You Want To Change Your Name: Nah. I’ll probably take my current SO’s last name, even though I want my author name to be E. A. Carr.

25. What Did You Do For Your Last Birthday: that was almost a year ago, I don’t remember XD probably had a few friends over, nothing big

26. What Time Did You Wake Up: I was woken up today around 9. I usually sleep in longer on my own.

27. What Were You Doing at Midnight Last Night: Might’ve been on the phone with SO, might have been asleep. Time kind of blurs around that time of night.

28. Name Something You Can’t Wait For: GAME OF THRONES S7. Comes out in six days!

29. When Was The Last Time You Saw Your Mum: yesterday evening, she’s gone for work by now.

30. One Thing You Wish You Could Change About Your Life: the level of pressure and stress I have for myself.

31. What Are You Listening To Right Now: As of this particular second, Despicable Me is on in the background, but in terms of music--I’m putting together what I can an Adventure Playlist. It’s full of songs that inspire me to go out and have adventures.

32. Have You Ever Talked to a Person Named Tom: What a weird question. And no, I don’t think so.

33. Something Getting On Your Nerves: I signed up for college classes recently. You’re telling me I have to do that crap ever four or five months?

34. Most Visited Website: on my computer, probably YouTube. I really need to get active again on Wattpad, though.

35. Hair Color: I used to be really blonde, but it’s sort of faded into a dirty blonde/brown.

36. Long or Short Hair: It used to be around my chin, but I’m growing it out and now it’s near my shoulders. So...medium?

37. Do You Have a Crush on Someone: again, six year relationship. That’s probably a bit beyond a crush but that’s all I can think of.

38. What Do You Like About Yourself: I really like my creativity, and my passion for writing and photography. 

39. Piercings: None, and I don’t want any.

40. Blood Type: I don’t know

41. Nicknames: I had a friend that used to call me Duckling

42. Relationship Status: Say it with me, y’all: committed relationship for the past six years

43. Zodiac: Libra

44. Pronouns: she/her

45. Favorite TV Show: I don’t watch that much TV, except for Game of Thrones, so that’ll have to do.

46. Tattoos: None, and I don’t want any of them either.

47. Right or Left Handed: Right-handed

48. Surgery: none, thankfully. I’ve never broken a bone or anything, so that’s a blessing

49. Piercing: Didn’t we do this already?

50. Sports: Yeah, I’m not the athletic type

51. Vacation: What is this supposed to be asking? I’m on summer vacation right now, going camping this weekend, and me and my whole extended family are going to Mexico for a week at the end of summer.

52. Pair of Trainers: So my naive butt had to look that up, it’s the British word for sneakers. I don’t do brand name, but I’ve got a pair, yeah.

More General holy cannoli are we done yet

53. Eating: Just had a peanut butter covered bagel for breakfast

54. Drinking: Nothing at the moment

55. I’m About To: Type out the rest of these questions until my fingers fall off

56. Waiting For: my life to fall into place

57. Want: peace of mind. Oh and a polarizing filter for my camera.

58. Get Married: yea, to the one I’m with now.

59. Career: Ideally I would be an author. I would settle for journalist or travel blogger, too, though.

60. Hugs or Kisses: Hugs

61. Lips or Eyes: I’m not good with eye contact, so lips I guess? In terms of which is prettier than eyes, of course, but... weird question

62. Shorter or Taller: I’m just gonna start basing these off of my current SO, and he’s taller than I am

63. Older or Younger: Around my age. Technically he’s older, but who isn’t? I entered school early, so everyone’s older than I am

64. Nice Arms or Nice Stomach: Arms; good for hugging

65. Hookup or Relationship: Uhm, relationship.

66. Troublemaker or Hesitant: Hesitant? I don’t want anyone to be in trouble.

67. Kissed A Stranger: Nope

68. Drank Hard Liqour: Also no

69: Lost Glasses/Contacts: I lost a pair of glasses to a lake once, but that wasn’t my fault.

70. Turned Someone Down: Yep

71. Sex on the First Date: Lmho no

72. Broken Someone’s Heart: God I hope not. If I did it wasn’t on purpose.

73. Had Your Heart Broken: Sort of. I was in like sixth grade so it was one of those “young and stupid” things. Ickgh.

74. Been Arrested: nope

75. Cried When Someone Died: I only started crying at my grandfather’s funeral when I saw my dad crying. I’d never seen him cry before, it was really impactful.

76. Fallen For A Friend: Well, I was friends with SO before I was with him, so... yes

Do You Believe In...

77. Yourself? Sometimes yes, other times, not at all.

78. Miracles? Yeah

79. Love At First Sight? My SO claims he loved me at first sight, so I guess so. 

80. Santa Claus? I don’t believe in the actual man himself, but I’ve seen the effort my mother puts into Christmas, so I believe in the magic.

81. Kiss On The First Date? Is this something to believe in? I’m not gonna tell you how to live your life--if you wanna kiss someone on your first date then who am I to stop you? But from my own experiences, it took me and my SO like a year to have our first kiss (but it was a lovely one). 

82. Angels? Yep

Other

83. Current Best Friend’s Name: Like I said, my best friend was cut out of my life. But their name is Oz.

84. Eye Color: Blue

85. Favorite Movie: Don’t make me pick, jeez. I’m a die-hard Disney fan, so I’ll watch those anytime. I like older movies from the 80s, nerdy things like Lord of The Rings and Harry Potter, a bunch of things. 

Good lord, that was a lot. If any of you actually read all of that, kudos to you! If you have any other questions you want me to answer or you want to hear more about something I mentioned, feel free to ask me about it.

[brianlichtig]

A deeper look at Samsung's Galaxy S8

The Samsung Galaxy S8 has redefined smartphones -- it's all curves, no bezels and truly one of a kind. Samsung needed to create a device that would make everyone forget about the Note 7's exploding batteries and it accomplished that. The S8 and S8+ are two of the best smartphones on the market. They aren't perfect, but Samsung came close.

What might be most exciting about the latest Galaxy flagships is that Samsung has made smartphones fun again. Smartphone design has grown tired, with every device featuring some version of a flat, bezeled display. Samsung was the first to get to the table with a innovative bezel-free design, and you can expect smartphone design to follow.

The Galaxy S8 is an Android device that finally values form just as much as function, something Apple figured out over a decade ago. The Galaxy S8 is a sleek, high-end device, and it's predicted that it will gain more traction in the enterprise than past Android devices.

Galaxy S8 design

The Galaxy S8 is beautifully designed with smooth, curved edges that complement the tapered OLED Infinity Display. It feels just as premium as it looks -- no plastic in sight with a body coated in Gorilla Glass 5. The design looks like it could be fragile, but I've dropped my own S8 more than once, with a slim case, and it's held up. I remember thinking the same about the iPhone 4 -- every new smartphone feels fragile until you're used it for a few months.

The display took over the physical home button, and instead Samsung included a pressure sensitive button beneath the display. I like the haptic feedback. It's not like the Apple iPhone 7, where it feels like you're pushing the actual display in. But it's better than your standard vibrating feedback, you feel like you can give it a decent push even when the display is asleep.

Of course, one of the biggest complaints about the home button is that Samsung didn't integrate a fingerprint scanner into the display. Instead, the fingerprint button is on the back of the device, next to the camera. This results in smudging the camera as you awkwardly reach around to find the scanner.

I went in with low expectations of the fingerprint reader, and I've mostly relied on other authentication methods. But after more than a week of use, I've gotten used to it. I always keep a case on my devices, and the cut out for the camera makes it easier to blindly feel for the reader. Overall, I don't think it's a deal breaker, but it will ultimately be your personal preference. Sometimes a new phone also means building new muscle memory, and after two weeks with the S8, I have no problem reaching my pointer finger up to the fingerprint scanner.

Just like past devices, the Galaxy S8 is IP68 water and dust resistant, with wireless charging and a 3.5mm headphone jack -- Samsung also included a USB Type-C charging port. The rear-facing dual-pixel camera is 12-megapixels -- same as the Galaxy Note 7 -- but the front-facing camera has been upgraded to a wide-angled lens with 8-megapixels.

Although the rear-facing camera is the same as last year's, Samsung has boosted software performance for higher-quality images. The camera works fantastic in low lighting and, as with all Samsung cameras, images feature a slight boost in contrast. Whether you like the boost in contrast and saturation is personal preference, but I found images sharp, clear and vibrant.

[ Related story: Enterprise showdown: 5 ways the iPhone beats the Galaxy S8 ]

Galaxy S8 Bixby button

This is technically part of the design, but the Bixby button deserves a section all to itself because it's also the worst part of the design. It was a bold move for Samsung to include a dedicated button for its new voice assistant, Bixby. It's especially bold when you consider Bixby is brand new, no one has ever used it before and most Android users are loyal to Google's voice assistant.

Initially, Samsung said the button would be remappable to another assistant or app -- which I was happy about. I use Siri and Google Assistant to do one thing -- set timers. A dedicated Bixby button felt excessive when I'm only going to use it to avoid forgetting laundry in my apartment's shared washers.

Samsung decided to remove the ability to remap the Bixby button. Not only is that change disheartening, the physical location of the Bixby button is frustrating -- it's exactly where you'd expect to find your volume down button. The app is useless in its current state. I couldn't even ask it to set a timer if I wanted to.

There's one silver lining to the Bixby button, depending on how much of an optimist you are. After my husband received his pre-order, he discovered at least one use for the Bixby button. If you delete every card and app from the Bixby screen, it becomes so glaringly bright white that you can use it as a flashlight.

If Samsung wants users to be loyal to Bixby, it needs to make the app so good that no one will want to remap the button. Customers don't spend over $700 on a smartphone just to be pushed into using any feature. This one feels like a clumsy nod to Apple's strategy, with Samsung slowly trying to entrench people into its ecosystem -- the exact thing most Android users are trying to avoid.

[ Related story: Samsung targets the enterprise with Galaxy S8 and S8+ ]

Galaxy S8 display

The 5.8-inch OLED display on the Galaxy S8 speaks for itself -- it's gorgeous, with a stunning resolution of 570 ppi. Not only is it unique, but the rounded edges of the Infinity Display create an immersive experience. Whether you're reading an article, watching a YouTube video or playing a mobile game, the edges of the device just melt away.

The curved edges are also practical.Tthe S8 looks large, but it doesn't feel that way when you hold it. I've found the iPhone 7 Plus, Pixel XL and past Galaxy flagship devices too wide for my hand, but the Galaxy S8 is the perfect size, even with a case.

The 18.5:9 aspect ratio is a little odd at first, but apps that aren't already optimized for the new ratio can be "cropped to fit," including YouTube videos. And with the growing trend of bezel-free displays, it's easy to imagine the S8's odd ratio will soon be common-place.

Another advantage to the tall display -- especially for business users -- is how effective it is for multitasking. You can float apps on the display in bubbles, quickly opening them to use a fully-functional, but scaled down version of one app without leaving another. On smaller displays, multi-window features always felt gimmicky rather than practical.

But the S8's tall display makes Android's multi-window function useful. I never had to switch out of another app to answer a text or browse my playlists like I did on my iPhone.

Galaxy S8 performance

If you purchase the device in the U.S., you'll get a Galaxy S8 with a Samsung Exynos processor. Outside of the U.S., the device features Qualcomm's Snapdragon 835 processor. It comes equipped with 4GB of RAM and I found the combination of Samsung's processor and RAM perfect for regular use. The device ships with 64GB of on-board storage, and it's expandable up to 256GB with a MicroSD card.

It's tempting to compare performance of the Galaxy S8 to the iPhone 7 Plus -- and for good reason. They're two of the best devices you can currently buy. I think the iPhone will always come out on top when pushed to the limit -- for example, uploading or downloading large files.

Apple has fine-tuned its lightweight mobile OS to run seamlessly on its own hardware using a proprietary processing chip. Alternatively, Android has a lot more manufacturers and devices to please. That is, it needs to work across multiple devices, run widgets, allow for multi-window mode, support launchers and ROMs and offer users high-level customization.

When you consider all the things an Android device asks of its OS compared to an iPhone with iOS, the performance of the S8 is extra impressive. Coming from an iPhone 6, I expected a choppier performance on Android. But with the S8, it's been a seamless experience. I haven't experienced any lag or poor animations; performance has been smooth and snappy.

Galaxy S8 battery life

It's no surprise that Samsung played it safe with the S8's battery. The S8's 3,000mAh battery is smaller than the battery in the Galaxy S7 edge, but Samsung claims it has a longer lifespan, losing only 5 percent of its capacity over two years. I can't test this claim without a time machine, but if it holds true, that's exciting news.

In daily, average use, the battery is enough -- it's not great, but it's enough. Of course, it's going to depend on your settings, apps and general habits, and I find that in my first month with a new device I use it more often than I normally would.

Over the past two weeks, I've pushed the S8 to the limits. I've loaded the device up with well-known battery drainers like Snapchat and Facebook Messenger. I kept Bluetooth on all day and used the S8 as my main streaming device for YouTube and Spotify. With heavy use, the battery got me through an entire workday, with a recharge in the evening. On days with lighter, more typical use -- days when I went out and reached for my smartphone less -- the battery got me through the day, well into the evening.

The device charges insanely fast with Samsung's fast charge technology. It will display the amount of time you have until a full charge, which is useful if you're trying to get out the door. The fast charging made up for the average battery performance since I could quickly top the battery off.

I expect that once the honeymoon phase wears off I'll have no problem stretching the battery life further. But if battery life is truly important to you, you might want to look at the S8+, which has a 3,500mAh battery.

Bloatware

While Bixby's execution was a misstep, one area where Samsung finally got it right is with its proprietary preloaded software. My Verizon pre-order arrived with a handful of annoying Verizon apps and games pre-loaded onto the device, but I uninstalled most of them. My T-Mobile review unit had far less bloatware than the Verizon device, and again, most of it was from T-Mobile, not Samsung, and I could uninstall the apps.

Samsung no longer tries to force you into using its native apps. They come tucked away in a tidy folder on the app tray and most of them can be uninstalled -- not just hidden. With other apps, like reminders and the weather app, Samsung doesn't even include a home screen or app tray icon unless you enable the feature in the app's settings.

Galaxy S8 enterprise potential

If any Android device has the potential to edge out the iPhone in the enterprise, it's the Galaxy S8. The iPhone 7 and iPhone 7 Plus have more to offer businesses, but the Galaxy S8 presents a legitimate alternative for IT.

Enterprise adoption will also be pushed by BYOD -- the growing trend of employees using a personal device for work. The Galaxy S8 is primed for BYOD; Samsung Knox not only helps with EMM, it makes it easy for users to keep personal and business data separate. And with the Samsung Dex -- a docking station that lets you use the S8 or S8+ as a full desktop -- businesses will be more motivated than ever to embrace the S8.

Samsung has built a smartphone that sets a new standard for other manufacturers, it's a hit with consumers and its appeal could sway the enterprise. With more display real-estate, a high-end design and impressive performance, employees can truly be productive on this device. And with the potential of docking stations like DeX -- full review coming later -- Samsung might be on the cutting edge of consumer technology and business mobility.

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from CIO http://www.cio.com/article/3193466/smartphones/a-deeper-look-at-samsungs-galaxy-s8.html#tk.rss_all Baltimore IT Support