#yeah I’ll make that an organizational tag

[every-eye-evermore]

I think when Hozier wrote unreal unearth, this is where he intended a first listening experience to take place. In a shady field, covered in dirt, ripping up weeds + planting new plants

[elvensorceress]

Sunday sentences

tagged by my beloveds @eddiebabygirldiaz @wildlife4life @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @daffi-990 @wh0re-behavi0r no pressure tagging @hippolotamus @monsterrae1 @shortsighted-owl @disasterbuckdiaz @loserdiaz @theotherbuckley @ronordmann @bekkachaos @buddierights @messyhairdiaz @fiona-fififi @thekristen999 @giddyupbuck @gayedmundodiaz 💕 have some Unless finale (which btw is over 29K so far 🫣)

Eddie leans against the fridge and watches Buck put the last few cans and jars away. He clearly has a system and there is no interrupting Buck’s organizational systems. So, Eddie merely gazes at him, unable to keep the smile from spreading over his face. Buck is ridiculously silly and adorable, and he’s home. This is their home together. 

They have a life and a home and a son together. And they belong to each other. 

Eddie doesn’t know how long it might take before those facts don’t make him choked up and dangerously close to happy tears. But a few hours is not long enough. He’s not sure a few lifetimes will be long enough. 

“Thanks so much for coordinating with me and letting us keep up with everything.” Buck puts away the last can of green chilies and runs a box of cereal to the cupboards near the fridge, and then folds and stacks all the empty grocery bags. “No, no I really appreciate it and I know he does, too. He was worried he wouldn’t get to be in class with his friends anymore and he’s been working so hard. So— so thank you. Yeah, you too. I’ll keep in touch and he’ll see you this Monday. Yeah— yeah. Awesome. Have a good one.” He ends the call, sets his phone down with a loud thunk, and spins one more time until he’s facing Eddie with a beaming smile. “Hey, gorgeous.”

Yeah, several lifetimes of this won’t be enough. Eddie’s face heats and he has to match that bright smile, and just stare at his beautiful, ridiculous, magical, amazing partner. “Hi, love.” 

Buck giddily bounces over to him, wraps Eddie in his arms, and kisses him to make up for all the very long minutes apart. It wasn’t even two hours, but it was far too long. “I missed you,” Buck even says while kissing Eddie’s cheek and jaw and the corner of his mouth, like everywhere wouldn’t be enough. 

Eddie laughs as he holds on tightly with an arm around Buck’s waist. 

Until Buck stops the kissing and leans away. “What you think it’s funny? That I missed you already? You don’t believe me?” 

The exact opposite actually. “No, it’s not funny. Yes, I believe you.” Eddie pulls him back in and kisses him again, long and wet and full of overflowing joy. “I missed you, too. So much. Too much. I don’t like not doing chores and errands together. It was a stupid plan.”

Buck holds him closer, more securely, and giggles as he kisses back. “It was your plan.”

“Yeah, well. Again, it was stupid. I hate it. Tell me it’s stupid next time I suggest something terrible like that.” He takes hold of Buck’s thick upper arms and spins them so he can press Buck into the corner and atone for this egregious offense. He scatters kisses and soft nips along Buck’s jaw and down his neck and breathes in the inherent sweetness of Buck’s warmth until there’s nothing in his own head but dizzy dreamy warm luscious joy. 

Buck whimpers and nearly melts all the way to the floor. Eddie holds him up though. He needs to shower him with affection. They’ve been without for more than a hundred and thirteen minutes, and he can’t be without anymore. 

He nuzzles against the slope of Buck’s neck and shoulder and presses long, open-mouthed kisses to his warm skin. Buck’s hand comes up to slide through Eddie’s hair and cradle his head, so gentle and loving it makes thrumming, simmering heat coast over Eddie’s cold skin. He wasn’t cold before. But being touched by Buck is so much like summer sun and lit fireplaces and heating pads and hot baths and laundry fresh out of the dryer. It makes Eddie realize he’s been lonely and frozen for so long. 

But he’s not anymore. 

Buck tips his head back, offering more of his throat, and Eddie has to taste. He has to lick and feel heartbeat under his tongue. It leaves wet trails when he slides over sweet, musky, salty skin and he has to suck patches of light pink nearly red marks into skin because saliva is just not enough to sufficiently claim or possess and show belonging. 

Eddie wants more skin. He wants to feel Buck soft and warm against him. He wants Buck hot and sticky and sweaty and all over him. 

Except there’s a young, disgruntled voice from the doorway, “Oh, you’re doing this again. You know if I were at a friend’s house, you could do whatever you want and I wouldn’t have to be disturbed over here about what’s going on in our kitchen.”

Buck attempts to stand up more on his own, but Eddie doesn’t let him go. Just in case. Just because. But he does turn enough to look over at Chris. “I thought you wanted alone time in your room. Do you need something, bud?”

Chris raises an eyebrow at him and now looks too much like Shannon and Eddie has no hope of surviving ever. “Yes. You said you were going to talk about it. Me going to a friend’s house. This doesn’t look like talking about it.”

Eddie lets out a barely patient huff and looks to Buck. “What do you think?”

Buck’s eyes widen like he wasn’t expecting this at all. “What do I think? I mean—” He gives Eddie a look, subtly glances down between them where they are pressed together, and his cheeks turn pink. And— okay. Eddie can see how this is a very unnecessary question. At least as far as Buck’s point of view. He was already bringing up the idea of date night for them. 

A first date. 

A first date that isn’t really a first date but is still new, different, exciting. The start of the rest of their lives? Or something like that but less embarrassingly sappy. Potentially with a house all to themselves to come home to. 

[calamari-minecraft-corner]

Oh ok this is completely unrelated to anything and also very irrelevant but were you aware that you have used the tag #ooooough 9 times(specifically the 5 'o's) and also you've used #c: 19 times and #fuck a whole 21 times :D

Sorry I've just been looking through the archive and it's interesting to me seeing which tags that aren't like organizational are used more often :3 there is a bunch of interesting ones (imo) actually

Ok I'll stop spamming you inbox and I'll get back to looking through the archive trying to make sure I'll characterize everyone correctly c:

Yeah you know what sounds about right HSJSSJSJ

And also I’ll get back to ur questions about some full body refs on Friday since I’ll have my hands and I can fully draw it out- been meaning to make a full ref for all of them anyways so :) it’s just me actually committing

[stellar-bookworm]

Hello. My name is Mylo, and I run this blog.

I’m a librarian at the Shalour City institute. I live alone with my Silver-Cross vulpix, Relic.

I suppose I have unnatural abilities, but I do not have much control over them.

I like to observe the night sky and document the constellations.

I don't speak Galarian very well, I'm here to learn the language better.

I can help with finding references or sharing book suggestions.

(Ooc below the cut!)

Hello! Mpc here with yet another blog.

This time around, out of blog rp will be possible, and I’ll accept magic anons sometimes. Just be on the lookout for when I do.

This blog will be open to high stakes, and will have topics of hybrids and eebydeeby’s in the future so if that’s a thing you don’t want to be associated with you’ve been warned here.

Some organizational tags:

#Mylo’s drabbles - this one’s for when the muse gives their opinion on something. I don’t really see the need to tag everything as a Mylo post since it’s their blog, soo yeah.

#Relic on the phone - sometimes, Mylo’s pokemon might appear on the blog! The vulpix knows how to read, though she has a language barrier that’s a bit more pronounced than her trainer so she might speak mostly in french.

For convenience’s sake, I’ve attached the tags to this post so you can read up on them. I’ll update this post when more’s added.

Although my muse and I are adults, I remain uncomfortable with erp. Most you’ll see from me is a dirty joke tagged as suggestive. I tend to tag those things with just the name of the thing to make it easier to filter.

That’s all that comes to mind for now. I’ll probably update this as things come up.

Oh, and don’t be afraid to come up to me if I messed something up or of you’d want me to tag some of my posts. I’m still learning how to do things around here.

Check out my other blogs!

@psyonicscream

@rotomblr-postal

[wing-ed-thing]

Group Project (Shino x Reader x Kisame x Temari)

Request: 

Word Count: 2,282

Tags/Warnings: Language, Alcohol Mention, Gender Neutral Reader @brokennerdalert​ @narahanabi​

Notes: I have never written for Temari before. I think I got her spot on tho. This was actually too fun to write. Enjoy, y’all.

The only time that worked for everyone was 10 o’clock. Which, by the way, sucked ass. At least, that was what Kisame said in the groupchat just ten minutes before you dragged yourself out of your dorm and into the rain. You trudged through the puddles, holding your jacket closed over your body to protect your backpack-encased laptop. Shino had a night lab. The earlier he finished his work the earlier he could leave. Temari had been insistent about that. She had some sort of circle and you remembered Kisame asking her why she couldn’t just skip for the week only to be met with a passive aggressive response. And Kisame himself had hockey practice. Even the sports houses were off campus, only impeding your scheduling efforts.

When you got to the longue, Temari had already set up all of her belongings. She sat herself in a cluster of four shallow armchairs and spread out a flurry of papers on the long coffee table. With the packed schedule that she threw into the chat, you wondered how she got there so quickly. Temari looked up at you with one long, slender brow raised.

“Oh good, at least you’re here.” Unsure, really, of what to make of her backhanded compliment, you sat down in the chair across from her and wordlessly unpacked your laptop.

You never liked general classes. At the end of the day, you worked on a few big, group projects, ultimately learned nothing, and your grade depended on the work ethic of others. You glanced over at Temari. She likely didn’t even have the same major as you. Granted, that was probably the point of the class, but nonetheless, it weighed on your already drooping eyes knowing that you’d have to pour so many late night hours into a project that would amount to nothing.

You pulled up your school account and sifted through your notifications.

“I signed us up for a research question. I thought that censorship in the classroom was an easy and relevant one. I don’t know about you, but I’m not about to get into the intricacies of drones at this time of day.” You couldn’t help but nod. Temari sure pounced on top of things quickly and for that, you were thankful to have received an easy prompt.

“Sounds great,” you mused and the heavy door from the outside to the longue slammed shut. You glanced over your shoulder to find Kisame, still in athletic clothes grinning as he approached.

“Well this is bullshit, isn’t it?” Those were the first words to come out of his mouth and you could practically hear Temari groan in exasperation. Kisame plopped down in the armchair beside you, offering you a wink as he did. “What kinda professor assigns a project on Tuesday only for it to be due Thursday? Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

You averted your eyes back to your screen, pretending to sort through your notifications. You hummed in response, too easily flustered and too tired to process. Temari’s fingers flexed over her own keyboard.

“It’s the beginning of the semester. It’s to test out organizational skills and teamwork,” she managed through half-gritted teeth. You looked between your two teammates, wondering what exactly happened between them that made them so hostile to each other. You made a mental note to not get in the way of whatever that was. Kisame scoffed, sitting back in the arm chair and reaching for his own computer.

“I don’t really care what it is and why it is. What I care about is that I’m wasting my Wednesday night…”

“Ah, yes, Wednesday night,” Temari repeated mockingly, “Because I know that I like getting plastered in the middle of the week.” Kisame leaned towards you on his left arm cushion.

“Soy Sauce over there is just sore that her brother picked a fight with one of my boys and lost. Sasori’s a short guy too, you should link with us sometime.” You heard Temari scoff.

“Yeah, like Kankuro would lose to any of the thugs you hang around—”

“Who are you calling a thug?” Temari met Kisame’s pointed glare. Even so, he sank farther into his seat, lifting one ankle to rest on his knee. “Though, I think it says something that you knew exactly what I was talking about—” He punctuated every word with a smug swing of his head before Shino walked in.

“Nice to see that things are lively in here.” He made his way across the lounge before plopping down next to Temari. A white piece of cloth hung out from his backpack, something that Temari didn’t miss as Shino prepared his materials.

“That’s a hazard.” She bit the inside of her lip.

“Don’t listen to her. She’s been grumpy since before you came here,” Kisame quickly explained, much to Temari’s disdain.

Looking across from you, you almost wished that you had just been paired up with Shino. You didn’t know him that well, but he seemed smart, capable and overall, quiet. Temari had drive, but her approach felt intense. Meanwhile, Kisame seemed like he couldn’t care less about the project. Or perhaps, it was more that he couldn’t care less about Temari.

“So the paper,” you began out of sheer nervousness. “And the presentation…” The three sets of eyes turned to you. You glanced at the clock. You had already wasted more than a half hour.

“Let’s be real here, a five page research paper is nothing,” Temari said, also crossing her legs. “It’s the presentation that we should worry about.” Kisame let out a breath.

“Well, here I was about to say the opposite.” He turned his neck to the side and you heard a few audible cracks. “What about we split it up if the paper is so easy for you?”

“I’m not just doing the paper by myself. Besides, I’d need to find sources and by the time I’ve found sources and written everything up, I’ll have done most of the work.” Temari wrinkled her nose at your partner next to you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what you were banking on.”

“Here.” Shino’s low voice broke through the room. With one exaggerated click on his keyboard he looked up at the three of you. “I just put a list of sources in the shared doc. There’s ten of them which should be more than enough. I pulled a few articles and a few academic papers which should meet the criteria from the rubric.”

Temari blinked down at her computer, furiously switching tabs. Her lips formed a round ‘o’ shape.

“Nice work, Shino,” you praised only to receive a shy nod. “I think if we take an anti-censorship stance, it’ll make out work easier given the time that we have to finish. Maybe Temari, you can start the paper and I can start the slides.”

“I can help you with that,” Kisame offered and you typed his email into the share box.

“I’ll help Temari with the paper,” Shino said with another nod.

“Start with the counterarguments. I’ll work from the top, you work from the bottom.” Temari gestured widely to Shino’s screen and you let out a relieved sigh. Maybe you’ll be able to get all of this done after all.

Time flew during the late hours of the night. You didn’t know what it was about the nighttime that made time feel quicker than usual. Soon enough, the clock struck one. Temari plucked ferociously at her laptop and it surprised you that Kisame hadn’t asked her what she was punishing her keyboard for. Shino, on the other hand, liked to stand. About an hour ago, he had stood up from his seat, and with one foot on the low level of the coffee table, kept at writing his part of the paper. Temari and Shino didn’t speak much. Rather, their side of the table mostly sounded of clicking.

Meanwhile, you and Kisame were having a great time. He made you laugh much to Temari’s annoyance, but knowing that you were getting your parts done, she didn’t comment. Despite his outward physique, Kisame had a sense of style when it came to design and organization. You flew through fonts and images quickly and by the time you had cleared the first few slides, even you were impressed by how professional it looked. The clock read two o’clock.

“This was your conclusion, right?” You turned your screen in your hands to face Temari. She squinted over and her eyes lit up.

“Actually, that’s a way better wording. Imma just steal that…” She clicked some more. “That’s some great work.”

“It was actually all Kisame.” And to your surprise, he didn’t gloat. Instead, he remained eerily focused. Temari glanced at him before glancing away.

“Like I said, great work…” she muttered.

“We’re almost done with the slides,” you announced, “Do you guys need help with the paper?” Shino shook his head. You found that he preferred non-verbal answers.

“We’re wrapping up over here, too,” Temari answered.

“Good, because I’m fuckin’ starving.”

And with the one mention of food, you all looked up at each other.

***

There was only one place open this late at night and it was one block away from campus. Fast Food, of course, but no one in your group complained. The dining halls were closed and most of you didn’t keep your rolling pantries stocked with anything worth eating at two in the morning, so you packed up your things.

It felt odd walking down the road with this group of people. You chattered amongst yourselves about anything other than your assignment.

“Me? I’m a biology major. I want to study beetles but I have to get my undergrad before I can do anything really specific.” By far, Shino had to be the most interesting of you all. You made your way off of campus, the restaurant in your sight. And as the walk continued, so did your conversation.

“I’ve wanted to try the new place that they opened up by admissions but they’re always closed when I try to go.” Temari pouted and you crossed the street together. You wondered if spending four straight hours having to communicate with any three people could make talking to them this easy.

“Marine biology?” You stared up at Kisame. “I don’t think I would have guessed.” He let out a hearty laugh that sent a few birds flying.

“Oh yeah, they have us go out of labs for the whole day. And when I say the whole day, I mean the whole day. I’ve always loved the ocean, but I think I’d have to transfer if I had to wake up at seven and come back at eight for more than one day a week.” Kisame reached for the handle, only for it not to budge in his grip. He tried again.

“Are they closed?” you asked, getting slightly agitated at the prospect.

“No.” Shino cupped his hands around his eyes as he stared through the window. “Wet floor signs are out. This must be the time that they clean the dining room.” Shino hardly had to finish his sentence before Kisame was already on his way to the drive thru.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Temari yelled after him as she jogged to catch up. “You can’t just walk through the drive thru.”

“Sure you can.” Kisame stood directly in front of the speaker with his hands in his pockets. “There are no cars around and even if there were, they’d have to take our order to get us out of the way… Hello?” The speaker crackled and Kisame shot a pointed look at the rest of you before moting for you to come closer to order.

“What can I get you?” the apathetic worker droned.

“Can I get a number nine?” Kisame started.

“Oh me too,” you whispered to him, not entirely sure why you spoke with such a hushed tone. He crossed his arms with a smirk.

“Make that two number nines? One large—” He stepped back to let Temari come up to the speaker.

“May I please get a number six with extra sauce, please? And, uh, a number seven too, please.” Like Kisame before her, Temari stepped to allow Shino to talk.

“Two number forty-fives, one with cheese and a large soda.”

With nowhere else to sit, you claimed a spot in the empty parking lot. Temari ended up paying. You put up a fight, but she insisted. You were secretly convinced that she was loaded anyway.

“You two got a lot of food.” Kisame handed you your fillet burger. Temari hummed, taking one of her backs and folded it behind her.

“One’s for my boyfriend,” she said, and before Kisame could get out a snarky comment about how Temari could ever land a boyfriend, Shino answered,

“I just usually eat all at once. Can’t usually grab dinner while doing night labs.” You all grimaced to yourselves. You knew the feeling of skipping meals because of your schedules.

You looked out at the city. Your school sat on a hill just outside of the twinkling lights. You found comfort in the blinking that came from below and your surroundings made the atmosphere feel completely still.

“You know, if we have a choice, we should just stick together for the rest of the semester.” Shino’s monotone voice cut through the air. You turned to the rest of them. Temari shrugged.

“It’s less of a gamble since we know each other, I suppose. I know that most of you won’t mess up our assignments…” You and Kisame nodded along, both stuffing your faces with french fries.

The decision was unanimous.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: 

Shino’s lab coat was in with his regular supplies which is technically a hazard when working in chem and bio labs since lab coats should be sealed. 

Not all fast-food places well take your order without a car, but if you block the line they’ll give in (that’s what I did). Don’t blame me if you get arrested for doing that though. 

"I'll have two number 9s, a number 9 large, a number 6 with extra dip, a number 7, two number 45s, one with cheese, and a large soda."– Melvin "Big Smoke" Harris

[randomficsandshit]

Outer Banks Fic Rec

Recommended Writers

*NONE OF THESE FICS ARE MINE*

Please do not forget. I have not written any of these. I’m simply recommending favorites of mine. If you love something, send the author your love, not me :) and if any links don’t work, send me a message and I’ll see what I can do! 

UPDATED: APRIL 23, 2021

Usually I organize by fic itself but that’s typically utilizing ao3, etc. and I’m new to obx fics anyway so I thought this would be a fun way to do it! 

also a reminder that I started doing fic recs like this for my own personal organizational habits lmao and I posted them just to have somewhere to put them and these lists were the result. people seemed to like my previous ones so after being asked, i figured I’d do an obx one. you can totally ignore this if you want

Writers are tagged and, if they have one, their masterlist is linked. 

*Also if you’re on this list and for any reason wish to be removed, just let me know and I’d be happy to. This is meant to share your work in a kind way, not bother you, so I’d be happy to oblige. 

***

@collecting-stories

*writes for other fandoms as well! Check out their page for more of those*

Masterlist fics with jj, pope, john b, kiara, sarah, rafe, topper

Some favorites:

Yellow Word Count: ~

Artwork Word Count: ~

Adore You Word Count: ~

Bake Off

Word Count: ~

***

@julesclues

jj masterlist

Some favorites:

Too Much To Handle Word Count: 1.6k

Reasons To Be In Love Word Count: 954

"Fake Dating" masterlist this one is with jj too! [COMPLETED]

***

@love-chx

Masterlist fics with jj, pope, kiara

Some favorites: 

Be Like That Word Count: 3.4k

Good Good Lovin' Word Count: 6.4k

***

@maybankiara

Masterlist fics with jj, john b, kiara, pope, sarah, rafe, topper, and jj x kiara, pope x kiara, rafe x kiara, jj x pope 

Some favorites: 

Prompt Blurb "I Made This For You"

Prompt Blurb "I Dreamt About You Last Night

***

@moldisgoodforyou

Full Masterlist 

"Give a Little" masterlist this is college!jj with an OC named Charlie so if you read any of her other fics, start with this series. Listen, I never thought I’d be into OC fics but these are addicting and you will love Charlie. Absolutely obsessed, truly excited every time I see something new. [COMPLETED]

Masterlist you know when you read a series and love it and think “GOD I wish there was more”? Well, yeah. There is.   

Some favorites: 

Want to be Roommates? Word Count: 1.2k

You're My Future Word Count: 800

Stuck With Me Word Count: 1.8k

Home For Christmas Word Count: 1.1k

You're My Home Word Count: ~

“Lost Time” masterlist this is college!rafe with an OC, enemies to lovers goodness. I first made this reclist, I hadn’t read this yet but had added it out of blind support. Now I have read it, and all accompanying fics and holy shit. Read it and fall in love with them. Rafe is completely not canon and you’ll love Sophie.  [COMPLETED]

Masterlist after the initial fic, there's plenty more, just like with JJ and Charlie above. 

Some favorites:

I Love You, Say It Back Word Count: 1.8k

Their First Time Word Count: 1.9k

Florence Word Count: 8.3k

***

@everybodyscupoftea (was oopmyheartwent-obx)

college jj masterlist have read all of these. Yes, all. Thoroughly enjoyed, 10/10. I mentioned above that im not into OC fics usually but she created 2 frat bros that are the definition of himbos and you will fall in love despite them not being the relationship targeted in the fics

She has her longer series split into masterlists here:

Pike!JJ

Sigma Chi!JJ

Some favorites: 

The Art of Making a Move at a Kegger Word Count: 2.8k

Cross Me Word Count: ~

I'll Be There Word Count: 2k

Meeting The Fam Word Count: 1.6k

First "I Love You" Word Count: ~

college rafe masterlist again, when I first made this post I hadn’t read much rafe and recommended out of sheer blind support. I have now read these and am beginning you to do the same.

Some favorites:

Under The Mistletoe Word Count: ~

Anyone Can Cook Word Count: 3k

Sleepover? Word Count: ~

***

@pixelated-pogues

Masterlist fics with jj, john b, rafe, pope

Some favorites: 

Protective Word Count: ~

Prompt Blurb "Family Vacation"

***

@ptersparkers

*writes for other fandoms as well! Check out their page for more of those*

Writing challenge masterlist these are links to fics that were a part of a challenge, I’ve read through most of them and definitely some good ish in there ladies!! 

*Fics with JJ, Rafe, Pope, John B, and Kiara*

Masterlist fics with JJ, John B, Pope, Sarah, Rafe, and an OC! 

Some favorites: 

Whipped Word Count: ~

Best Friend's Brother Word Count: ~

Falling In Love In A Coffee Shop Word Count: ~

"Study Sessions" masterlist First obx multi-chap I read and…..MUAH. golden. Co-written by @storiesbymads [COMPLETED]

Hotbox Word Count: ~

***

@starksweasley

*writes for other fandoms as well! Check out their page for more of those*

Masterlist fics with jj 

Protect You Word Count: 2.2k

The Art Of Being Afraid Word Count: 4.9k

***

@storiesbymads 

*writes for other fandoms as well! Check out their page for more of those*

Masterlist fics with rafe, sarah, kiara, jj, and topper

Some favorites:

Watermelon Shampoo and Coconut Body Wash Word Count: 1k

It's Not Living (If It's Not With You) Word Count: 1.2k

"Study Sessions" masterlist see above for comments about this one but for real. So so good. Co-authored with @ptersparkers [COMPLETED]

***

@sunnypogue

college rafe/coho rafe masterlist again, when I made this post I said I didn’t read much rafe. No longer true. But my initial comment remains: the quality here..superb. Rafe girls, this is your holy grail. Seriously her masterlist is full of great stuff. I still need to read through the whole thing.

Some Favorites:

Rafe Takes Care of His Drunk Girlfriend Word Count: ~

Midsummers With Hockey Rafe Word Count: ~

Rafe Comforting You After A Test Word Count: ~

***

@cobaincreates

Masterlist fics with rafe and topper

Really good smut and with stories as well, even the meatier fics don’t feel long because they’re just straight up enjoyable. Last I saw, she was taking a break from writing but theres plenty of good stuff up so! Give them a read and be kind :)

Some favorites: 

Smart Decisions Word Count: 10k

Body Count Word Count: 3k

***

@socialwriter

Masterlist fics with jj, rafe, sarah, kiara, pope, john b, topper, kelce

Moulin Rouge Masterlist  [WIP, on hiatus]

Glee Song Fic Series Masterlist

Some Favorites: these are what I’ve read most, they haven’t shown up on my page yet cause my queue is like 2 weeks behind right now, but I’ve enjoyed them and reblogs are coming!!

Dad JJ Masterlist

Dad Rafe Masterlist

***

@tweedlydumbtweedlydoo

Masterlist fics with john b, jj, rafe, pope, kiara

Mistake Masterlist You, a pogue and Rafe Cameron, a kook are friends of benefits, secretly of course. But what happens when you get pregnant? [COMPLETED]

Not Perfect Masterlist JJ Maybank is the one who makes sure your kook lawn is immaculate. Your family may look perfect just like the lawn from someone looking from the outside in, but it turns out you and JJ have more in common than you thought. [COMPLETED]

Not Mine Masterlist Everything was going well until a blast from the past shows up. [COMPLETED]

Some favorites:

Stormy Weather Word Count: ~

The Heat Word Count: ~

[thyfavouritegay]

Thy Favourite Gay: Organizational Tags

Hello! ‘Tis I, Thomas, AKA thyfavouritegay here on Tumblr. We been knew that my blog is a mess, but I do try to keep it organized, so here will be a small guide to my personal* organizational tags!

(* Anything that is my own stuff, not just general organizational tags. I really hope there isn’t anyone else out there using these tags, or it would be awkward.)

“thy favourite gay posts”

The tag “thy favourite gay posts” is very very simple! It marks my own original posts---no reblogs or anything! Often combined with other tags, “thy favourite gay posts” is a quick and easy way to find all of my own posts, including this one!

“thy favourite gay draws”

This tag is also easy! It’s for any drawing I do, no matter the format. Looking for my art? Just look through this tag! Easy as that. Reblogged things (such as art prompts) can also be found here!

“thy favourite gay writes”

Yet another simple one, this is for any writing I might do. Fanfic linking, simple short pieces from stories, you get the idea. Reblogs can be found here, in the form of writing prompts!

“thy favourite gay ocs”

Here is where it starts to get a little bit complicated. Anything under this tag is something to do with my original characters (of which I have wayyyyy too many). This can be combined with any of the ones above, or left on its own. But that is the simple bit. What’s the complicated part, you ask?

This tag has variations.

I have several worlds and sorts of OCs that I create, and they can’t all be put together. So to avoid issues, I use variations of this tag. The variations are quite simple: “thy favourite ___ ocs”, and the empty space is a word, or a few words, to group them together. 

For example, for my sort of rich kid evil stuff characters, I would tag them “thy favourite brookside ocs”, named after the private school they have at one point all attended, Brookside Academy. For my sort of magical school characters, I would tag them “thy favourite runespoor ocs”, named after the main location for any of the main characters’ interactions, the school Runespoor Academy of Elementation and Education. And for any of the characters of mine that are part of the world where there’s a battle between two powerful gangs and there’s only one even stronger group holding them from destroying the city, I’d just tag it “thy favourite gay organized crime ocs”.

Most other ones, that don’t have a specific universe or genre, are just “thy favourite gay slice of life ocs”. Because I’m boring (and am an anime nerd) like that sometimes. Most of the time, I’ll try to tag their names as well, but that would be difficult always, so unless they get a repeat, their names will probaby be left out (especially since I don’t have names for a lot of them, literally none of the organized crime OCs have names).

In Conclusion:

Use common sense to guess tags. Enjoy the blog. Even if I make no sense. Also I’m going to tag all of the tags in this post so yeah. :P

[scullydubois]

Only the Light Ch. 4

Description: Missy and Scully’s girls night gets interrupted by an uninvited guest.

Read on Ao3 here. Tagging @today-in-fic​.

A long--and fun!--part. Hope you enjoy!

-------------

The elevator doors part, releasing Scully into the tranquility of her hallway. She steps out, glad to be away from the bustling FBI building and the noisy street and the elevator so squeaky that she’s pretty sure she’ll find herself trapped in it one of these days. That’s a problem for another time. For now, all Scully wants is to take off her shoes, pantyhose, and bra. The simple pleasures.

She sticks her key in the doorknob and turns. The deadbolt clicks. She’s locked it. She sighs. Missy left the door unlocked again. She twists the key the other way and it opens. She enters and drops the key, her purse, and her badge on the side table.

“It’s me!” Her voice echoes through the place.

“I’m in here,” Missy responds from the kitchen.

Scully enters the kitchen. Her sister’s still in the hostess uniform for the restaurant job she just got. She flips mindlessly through an issue of Better Homes and Garden.

“You left the door unlocked again.”

Missy flips a page of the magazine so hard she almost tears it. “Oops.” 

Scully sighs and sits down at the table. Her sister has always been the dramatic type.

“How was training?” she offers.

Missy sets down the magazine as if she’s thankful to have an out.

“Pretty standard for an upscale eatery that calls itself casual but charges twenty dollars for a bowl of soup. Turns out, the East Coast isn’t actually that different from the West Coast.”

“Wow. Who’ve thought?”

Missy chuckles. “I know, right?”

“Speaking of the West Coast…”

Melissa groans. Her sister’s been trying to get information about her whereabouts ever since she moved in. She’s under the impression that everyone’s life is as interesting as working for the FBI, and while Melissa tries to make hers so, there’s just not much to report. Except for the one thing she’s specifically avoiding. She will tell Dana at some point, she has to, but for now she doesn’t want to add to the cacophony of things her sister has to worry about. Besides, it’s not anything bad. If anything, Melissa is looking forward to telling her. It’s their mother she’s worried about.

“I told you, it’s nothing juicy. I was out there doing odd jobs. Waitressing, mostly. There was a stint as a gas station attendant.”

Scully laughs. “A gas station attendant?”

“In Oregon you’re not allowed to pump your own gas.”

Scully raises her eyebrows. “Seems like it wouldn’t be a very safe job for a young woman late at night.”

Missy shrugs, then, with the dedication of an Oscar-winning actress, says, “It was a male dominated profession, but I made do.”

Scully smiles. She knows the feeling. She steps out of her heels and carries them into her bedroom. She shimmies off her pantyhose, then sits on the edge of the bed and presses her thumbs deep into the arches of her feet. Heaven. After a moment of bliss, she takes a pair of pink fuzzy socks from her drawer and slips them on.

She returns to the kitchen--“Have you had dinner?” 

“Just a bowl of salad,” Missy replies. 

“Am I to assume by your pitiful tone that you’re up for something else?”

“If you order something and tell me I can have it, who am I to say no?”

Scully chuckles. “How courteous.”  She pulls out a drawer full of take-out menus in various conditions. Some of them Scully has had since her Academy days. 

“The ones on the top are Mexican, the middle is Chinese and Japanese, after that is Italian, and the bottom ones are Indian.” 

Few things that Dana has said have surprised Melissa as little as this organizational structure. What she doesn’t expect is the sheer volume of her sister’s collection. Her eyes widen as she approaches the drawer. There’s literally hundreds of menus stacked in there. 

“Um, may I ask for the chef’s recommendations?”

Scully pulls a couple menus out like it’s nothing.

“Well, if you’re in the mood for curry, this one is great,” she slides a colorful menu toward Missy. “But this is the best Chinese takeout in the city.” She sets down a menu with the Chinese symbols for good fortune on it (yes, Missy knows some Chinese). Missy figures they could both use some good fortune, so she picks up that one.

“Do they have hot & sour soup?”

“I’m sure. I always have the fried rice and orange chicken.”

“Oh, that sounds good too. Can we do a bowl of hot & sour soup and two portions of rice with orange chicken?”

Scully picks up the phone. “Of course.” She dials the number from the menu. As it’s ringing, Missy whispers, “And fortune cookies?”

“They always give you some. They’re not very goo-” The restaurant picks up. A fast-talking voice buzzes in Scully’s ear. 

Melissa laughs at this slip. As her sister’s about to recite the order, she adds, “I don’t care, I just want to read them.”

Scully tells the woman the order, confirms that it’ll come with fortune cookies, and gives them her address and unit number. She thanks the woman, hangs up the phone.

“It’ll be 25 minutes,” she tells Missy.

“Perfect.” Scully can tell from the sound of her voice that she’s up to no good. 

“Perfect for whatever villainous plot you’re about to drag me into, you mean?”

“Perfect for us to get ready for the girl’s night we’re about to have,” she replies matter-of-factly. 

Scully opens her mouth to protest, but Missy beats her to it. “I know, I know. It’s Thursday, you have work tomorrow, you’re tired...but it doesn’t have to be anything grand. Just a little self-care and relaxation, okay?”

Scully frowns in her funny, ‘I’m not actually upset, I just can’t think of a good comeback’ way. 

“And besides,” Missy continues, “you don’t wanna be a party pooper, do you?”

Scully frowns for real this time. This unearths some childhood insecurities she had forgotten she had. It conjures up the image of teenaged Missy with a pack of cigarettes--their mother’s--begging her to sneak out the window and smoke them together, that it would be fun. How she said no until she couldn’t bear her sister’s juvenile belittling anymore. It figures that she has to be guilted into having fun. She bets that her parents would never have imagined that their little girl smoked a cigarette younger than their free-spirited daughter ever did.

“Come onnnnn,” Missy drawls. “We can get in our pajamas and slippers, and I have some avocado face masks we can do. Plus, I brought my box set of Golden Girls.”

Scully can’t help but smile at that. On nights before big exams in medical school, she would put Blanche, Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose on in the background to keep her company as she studied. She called it her golden good luck charm because she passed every test she did this with. 

“Fine.”

Fine. The Dana stamp of approval! Missy leaps into action. “Go get dressed, and I’ll grab the face masks.”

Scully does as she’s told (per usual). She chooses her silkiest pajama set because this feels like an occasion to go all out. A few minutes later, she’s sitting on the couch letting Missy spread the avocado paste across her face. 

“Is this just mashed up avocado?” she asks. “Could we eat this?”

“I think there’s honey in it too.” Missy scraps a dot off where it spilled over to Scully’s headband and licks it. “Not bad...Are you that hungry?”

Scully chuckles. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Well, if it does to your insides what it does to your face, then watch out.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass on that,” Scully remarks.

“Good choice.” Missy finishes Scully’s face and turns so that Scully can do hers. Scully dips a finger into the green paste. It’s cold and sticky, not exactly a desirable combination.

“Do you do this a lot?” she asks Missy.

“Usually once a week, if I think of it.”

Scully wouldn’t have the time to think of it, let alone do it. “That’s nice,” she says wistfully, realizing there’s not much farther she can take the subject.

“I brew some tea, light some incense, and boom. My own personal nirvana.”

“Mmm.” Scully’s feeling increasingly isolated by this conversation. Missy reads her mind in the typical way.

“You don’t take much time for yourself.” It’s a statement, not a question.

 “I just don’t have much time in general,” Scully replies on the defensive.

“And you certainly don’t allot what you do have to yourself.”

Scully lifts her finger off Missy’s face, dips it back into the paste. “I take care of myself,” she says.

“But you don’t spoil yourself.”

“Who am I to be spoiled?” And there is the fundamental ideological difference between Missy and her sister. Missy, who wants life to be overflowing with joy, bereft of nothing. Dana, who believes that nothingness gives her strength, and strength gives her character.

The delivery man's knock on the door eclipses any response Melissa was planning to make. Probably for the best. This is the rift the sisters cannot manage to pave over.

Missy grabs the food and pays the man. She knows her sister would be embarrassed to be seen with the mask on, and she’ll do anything to make Dana’s life that much easier. 

They dig in, eating straight from the cartons. Missy insists on using chopsticks, which works great for the chicken but not so hot on the rice. She doesn’t bother trying them with the soup. Scully doesn’t have the patience for any of it, so she sticks to the plastic fork that came with it all.

Between bites of chicken, Scully reaches for a fortune cookie. Missy swipes it out of her hand, sending it catapulting toward the floor. 

“What was that for?” Scully exclaims.

“Haven’t you ever heard that it’s bad luck to read your fortune before you finish the meal?”

“No?”

“Well, that explains a lot then.”

Scully smirks, sets the cookie back on the table with the others. “I think you just wanted that one.”

Missy feigns innocence, then shrugs. “I have a good feeling about it.”

-----------

A few minutes later, the girls have settled on the couch, empty cartons of take-out strewn on the table in front of them. The four fortune cookies they received are all wrapped up. They’re too full to bother with them just yet. They chirp bits of commentary about the Golden Girls episode they’re watching back and forth between each other.

“I see some Blanche in you,” Scully comments, “but mostly I think you’re Rose.”

“She’s my favorite, so I will gladly accept that,” Missy replies.

The episode’s laugh track nearly conceals a slight rap on the door. 

Scully looks toward the door. “Did you hear something?” 

Missy clicks the volume down on the remote. “Maybe. I’ll check.”

She heads for the door,  peeks through the peephole, then unfastens the chain and lets the door swing on its hinges.

“It’s Mulder!” she exclaims after Mulder has already stepped through the doorway.

It is, in fact, Mulder. Still in his work clothes and holding a manila folder. His eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh. Melissa.”

She smiles slyly. Evidently, he did not expect her nor her face mask.

“Hello, Fox.”

Scully pulls her feet up onto the couch and crosses her arms protectively over her chest, hoping that somehow, maybe, he won’t notice her here in her own apartment. Her first thought is that she’s not wearing a bra. She realizes that this is an unproductive thought to have because it’s not like she’s naked or anything, she’s wearing a pajama top, and he’s seen her in a pajama top before. Hell, he saw her in her underwear on their first case! Not to mention that he’d seen her on her deathbed, and is there anything more naked than that? Still, she hadn’t expected him, and she feels caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. 

For what it’s worth, Mulder is caught off guard by her too. She looks...soft. Relaxed. He very rarely gets to see her in casual circumstances. Even in the assortment of motel rooms he’d sat with her in, she was always keyed up, her mind trying to piece together the puzzle of whatever case they were on. This was new territory. 

“Hi, Scully,” he croaks. 

“Hello,” she replies sheepishly. 

Mulder can’t take his eyes off her. He’s endeared by the green face mask and all of its components. The headband pulling tendrils of her hair tenderly away from her face, the stray locks that have slipped out and stuck to the paste, the extra youthful look it gives her...he never realized how much he missed out on. How much she keeps from him. Suddenly, he’s certain: the woman sitting on the couch isn't Scully. It’s Dana, and there's nothing he wants more than to get to know her better. 

Remembering what he’s there for, he holds the folder out to her. 

“Uh, I just came to give you these toxicology results. I thought you might want to review them before tomorrow.”

She takes the folder while keeping one arm stationed in front of her chest.

“Thank you. I will.”

She plops the folder with the mess on the coffee table and returns both arms to her chest.

Feeling like the intruder that--in Scully’s mind--he is, Mulder glances at the TV.

“Golden Girls. That’s serious business, I’ll get out of your hair.”

Melissa mutes the TV. “Actually, we were just discussing what Golden Girl we think we are. We agreed that I’m Rose, but we’re still trying to figure out Dana.”

This is a challenge Mulder is more than happy to accept. 

“Dana…” He looks at her with a lop-sided smile, letting the word roll off his tongue in a teasing way.

Scully blushes. Oh how she wishes her body would not so easily give her away. Figuring there’s nothing to lose, she takes this opportunity to catalogue the colors in his eyes. She has an ongoing debate with herself about what color they actually are. She’s seen green, brown, and blue with such certainty that she’s pretty sure he has the ability to change them like a mood ring. She’s not sure she would want to know what each color means. 

She decides that they’re looking quite green tonight (is that good?) and breaks eye contact with him out of necessity. Call it self-preservation.

This silent exchange pleases Melissa, maybe even more than it does Mulder. She loves being right as much as her sister does. 

“I was thinking she’s a Dorothy,” Melissa pipes up. “What do you think, Fox?”

He flinches. Melissa scoffs. “Sorry--Mulder. What is it with FBI agents and insisting on being called their last name? That’s got to be some sort of psychological phenomenon.” Then, because she can’t resist--“You should open a x-file on that.”

Scully chuckles. Mulder just purses his lips.

“Ha ha. Very funny.”

“I know,” Melissa claps back in jest. “That’s why I said it.”

Scully looks toward the window. She could have sworn she saw a flash of lightning outside, but no thunder follows it. When she looks back, Mulder’s eyes are trained on her once again. Yep, still green. He pushes some of the cartons aside and perches on the table in front of her and Missy. If Scully put her legs down, their knees would touch. 

“Dorothy is the obvious choice,” he says. “But that’s too easy. Scully’s not easy.”

Scully flicks her gaze toward Missy, who bites her lip to keep the sarcastic comment in her mind from slipping out. 

“So what is she then?” Melissa challenges.

Scully’s eyes meet Mulder’s. She’s not sure what he’ll say, and she’s not too worried about it. What matters is that she’s looking at him, he’s looking at her, and her skin feels like it’s been warmed by the sun. This is not a normal reaction to another human being looking at you, she knows. She made a pact with herself early on not to think too hard about it. It’s moments like this that make her question the point of that.

She feels sated...she so rarely feels that way. Realizing that there is nothing worth keeping from him, not right now, Scully lowers her hands into her lap.

Feeling like he’s done something right, Mulder smiles. He answers Missy’s question without taking his eyes off his partner. Scully’s burning up.

“Well, she’s smart but not pretentious, curious but not unconventional, reliable but not naive, honest but not a curmudgeon, and diligent but not intense...so I don’t know.”

He looks to Melissa. 

“Are any of the Golden Girls as interesting as that?”

Scully’s breath catches. This is quite possibly the most romantic moment of her whole life...What does that say about her? She lowers her feet so that her silk pajama bottoms nuzzle his coarse slacks. Call it a gesture of goodwill. Meanwhile, Mulder wonders if Scully notices that their kneecaps are touching.

Missy smiles. She’s engineered a moment, and what a wonderful one. 

“I suppose not,” she replies lightly. “Dana’s one of a kind.”

“That’s for sure.” Mulder clasps Scully’s hand, and for a second, she thinks he’s going to kiss it. His fingers slip away and grab a fortune cookie off the table instead.

He rips the plastic off it, then snaps it in half. He sets a half in Scully’s open palm as if on instinct. She didn’t even realize she had turned her hand up. Her fingers close over the cookie. She couldn’t possibly eat it now that he’d touched it. Or was that all the more reason to eat it?

Mulder pulls the paper from his half, pops the cookie in his mouth, and crunches as he reads the fortune. “Depart not from the path which fate has you assigned...huh.” He crumbles up the plastic and sticks it in his pocket. “Never seen that one before.”

“Me neither,” Scully remarks dreamily. Melissa looks on, feeling like she’s watching a movie play out in front of her.

Mulder rubs his hands against his pant legs to extend the moment, then stands up, bumping Scully as he does.

“Sorry,” he says, resting a hand on her shoulder. She shakes her head to indicate it’s nothing. “You’re fine.”

As she looks up at him, Mulder finds himself struck with the desire to swim in those blue eyes of hers. He knows that his feeling for Scully--whatever it is--is different from the girls on his magazines and tapes. His thoughts about Scully are somehow both innocent and ridiculously gratifying. His thoughts about the other girls are neither.

“Well, I’ll get going,” he says, stepping around Scully and Melissa’s feet. He turns back to meet Scully’s glance one last time--

“See you tomorrow morning.” He winks.

Scully is so charmed by this all she can muster up is, “Uh-huh.”

Missy bursts into laughter as soon as Mulder closes the door. Scully lets her. She looks down at her palm and realizes that she has put so much pressure on the fortune cookie that it crumbled. She won’t read into this either.

[silvermoon424]

Madoka scares the shit out of me but I love your blpg. If those other Anons were smart they could just filter the tag like I do. (I do sometimes take a peak at your tag cause the figures and stuff are pretty.) But yeah. Childhood trauma with binge watching it when I was like 12 and having no idea what I was getting into. (Was a Hardcore Sailor Moon fan and had watched all of MewMew Power. So it was recommend. BIG MISTAKE! XD) I'm now a college student who can't watch it without feeling sick. But still. You do you and thank you for being so kind and thoughtful about tagging that stuff! 🖤🐜

First of all, thank you so much for liking my blog! ❤️

And I have said this multiple times, but I am 100% cool with people not liking PMMM. Everyone has the right to enjoy or not enjoy what they want, and I would never be so much of an asshole as to demand that everyone likes the things I like. But I get a lot of buttmad anons coming to my inbox trying to pick fights whenever I post about Madoka Magica. I’ve even had people accuse me of being a “fake” Sailor Moon fan because apparently you can’t be a Sailor Moon fan and a PMMM fan, lol. 

Also, funnily enough, I mostly tag things for categorization/organizational purposes, but I’m very happy it has the effect of catching things in a filter for people who don’t want to see something! Especially if that something makes them uncomfortable. I’ll continue to be diligent about tagging!

And again, thank you for the compliments! ❤️

[starlitwishes]

((Oh yeah! I need to edit my verses.))

((So the verse with @convivxncia​ I have with Evan and her Venti is going to be a mild “Corrupted Evan” AU--where Evan has the same poison in his veins that Dvalin did, though it hasn’t taken that much of a hold on him quite yet. He still has blood clots too, but they’re more like scabs and raised bumps over like how Dvalin’s were spikes. They’re very delicate, and can and will rip open with ease. This’ll be a plot point later though, since one gets ripped open by accident/bursts and brings about the corruption ten fold.))

((I’ll be repurposing the verse “Truly Free Once Again” (Verse tag: V; And The Sun Will Rise Once More) to be this verse with Kendra as the Venti of that verse, and it’ll be a closed verse, meaning she will be the only Venti for that verse. That doesn’t mean I won’t RP Corrupted!Evan for other verses though!))

((As for another verse that I’m going to be closing off (meaning it’s not an open verse but I will be willing to rp a similar concept in another verse) I’ll be doing a similar thing to the verse “A Fate Worse Than Death” (Verse tag: V; To Harness the Power of Fallen Gods) and say that @viigilant​ is the Xiao of this verse and @whirlwiinded​ is the Venti.))

((I’ll keep my general verses of course, but I’ll be relabeling some threads with their respective verses (I.E. Relabing my and Kendra’s Revolution/Past threads before Evan died as the “Truly Free Once Again” verse tot ake it out of the general tag for that time period) and yeah. It shouldn’t really change much, just know that some verses might be closed and get one “main”.))

((I’ll be making about pages for more developed AUs/closed verses too, for more organization and easier access to see threads and taken characters.))

((Don’t worry, though! I still have my general verses, so I’m not closing off and being private or anything. This is mostly for organizational purposes and the sort.))

((Sorry for the longish ooc update, I was doing replies and realized this was something I should address before I start changing up the verses!))

[autumn-foxfire]

Bruh, an anon mentioned Fuzzy once. ONCE! Which I'd say there was no reason to go that detailed. Keep that in mind anon, no more. Anyways it's not like you go out of your way to actively hate on them on a day-to-day basis for ppl to say you do that a lot and on villain stan logic. It's just an organizational tag and did most of this start up from the wiki thing???? Which why wouldn't anyone be shocked hearing that. People respond to what surprises them idk what to tell you. 1/2

Anyone ever heard of freedom of speech, why are they trying to police what you can or can't do? So many of your 'villain stan logic' posts are the furthest thing from hate. The '' marks are there to not generalize all villain stans into one group right? Maybe I missed some asks, but all I see is you wanting ppl to stop misreading Hawks character turning him into smthng he's not. Villain stans anguishing over discourse in fandom and ppl venting about fandom life in the plainest ways possible. 2/2

No, Fuzzy has popped up two or three times due to anon asks which is why I should have been more responsible about names and asks. I just didn’t think about it because they were already so notorious in fandom that what the anons were saying were things most people were probably already aware about them doing. It was still wrong of me to not try to sensor their name though, so I’ll be more wary about that in the future when it comes to asks like that.

Yeah, the ‘villain stan’ logic tag was just a way for me to tag my discourse so others didn’t have to see it and I added the quotation marks because I didn’t want to generalize people who were villains stans who were just chill people. It’s just a unique tag that people can block so they don’t have to see my discourse posts that wouldn’t block anothing else. It was a new tag I created recently because I noticed I was getting more of these asks and wanted to organize my blog a little better, I also don’t plan on stopping using it either :p

I’ve probably come across as rude on some posts but I’ve never wrote them with the intention of spreading hate. I’ve always approached them on the basic that this was an opinion/interpretation I don’t agree with and I’ll show people why I don’t agree with them using canon material. I guess I lost some of that because I started getting short with interpretations that kept twisting Hawks character that kept appearing? I’m unsure.

I think I’ve just said somethings that have poked a nerve in that corner of the fandom so they tried to make a callout post misrepresenting me and my blog. I wonder if it’s working?

[vanaera]

Hi Aeraaa. Sorry it took me long to replay, but I’m glad that I finally can do it =) I just hope tumblr won’t delay my asks further more. I get why you would expect me to major in humanities, actually there’s an area in finance called behavioral finance, and I find it one of the most interesting areas in finance, I guess we can see a pattern in here hehe. What you said about ur major and what do you like about it seems really great, and the flexibility is indeed an advantage. 1

Maybe it doesn't seems like it but I understand the hassle you mentioned. Especially with the older people. B4 I major in finance, I was planning to major in MIS which is a new course in my country. I would then get a similar reaction to the one you mentioned since it isn’t accounting or finance lol. Even though these reactions can be discouraging, it isn’t really important, what’s important is that we’re comfortable with our choices, and I’m glad for that =) but yeah, i kinda get it

And Sure, I can tell you more about what I remember about the two courses. For business communication it was more about how to use the best practices in communicating with other within the organization, like how to get your message delivered, for the sake of getting the best possible result for yourself or for the sake of the organization. Things I remember about this course were like how to make and deliver a good presentations. How to right emails and good resumes. Attitudes and body language

and stuff like that. THH reminded me of a lot from that course :D. It was relatively an easy course but important and effective nonetheless. I took this course two years ago and I kinda wish if I took it like last semester cuz I think I’ll be able to remember better how to write a good resumes lol since I’m graduating this semester. Organizational behavior course was more interesting, it was about applying psychology in understanding the behaviors of personnel so one can manage them better.

The most interesting lecture that I still remember from this course was about many kinds of human bias and how it can affect the process of decision making. People can think that they’ll be able to notice these biases and tendencies easily but the reality says otherwise. That’s what I find is interesting the most. I really like what you said here. “ I think the world actually heavily relies on stories” and I think I agree with that. :)

You’re most welcome dear aera =) I don’t know how I did that but I’m glad for sure that my words made you happy and reached your heart. This’s great and it feels satisfying =). I’ll be back again to write about my thoughts on My time pt.2 after I read it! I’m excited. & Maybe I’m late but all the luck with your projects and finals dear, fighting!

Aseel!!!! Sorry this took so long!!! I got caught up with finals drain and writing slump and writing! But anyway, here I am!!!

OMOMOMO you're finally off-anon! Can I tag you now whenever I get tagged in fun tag games? I wanna know more about you!

I never heard of Behavioral Finance before. I used to think Finance is everything about money and budgeting and practicality and business. I didn't know there's an area like that.  I just searched it now and it's about the influence of psychology on investors and financial analysts 🤯  That sounds do interesting!!!! I just recalled that someone uploaded their books in their Psychology major to our uni's online library and rn I'm studying Forensic Psychology! Since I'm currently in the psych area, I think I'm gonna look into Behavioral Finance, too!

Oohhh MIS? Like Management Information Systems? (Had to Google it zjsjksks) That actually sounds so interesting! And yeah, people's - especially older generation's - opinions on what you do can be quite discouraging. But you're right. It doesn't matter as long as we're happy in what we're doing! Talk all they want how sciencey courses are better than humanities, I'll just flip my hair and study how most human communication goes downhill 💁🏻‍♀️  skskks. 

OMYGOD Business communication is like essentially my course! Were being tsught how to say things more correctly in preswntations, speeches, arguments, in whatever setting but it tends to usually focus on business (since a lot of organizations run in a business manner). One of my majors even focused on training us how to handle crisis in organizations and we were made to attend a "How to Properly Craft E-mails 101" class. It's amazing and funny at the same time. Amazing bc omygod after that class, I was making really convincing emails that helps me get what I want from my classmates (for class works) and from my profs whenever I have inquiries. Lmao bc of this class, I got more thick-skinned in facing profs and asking them what the hell do they mean in their vague instructions. Of course not literally this way, but this is the mood HAHAHAHAHAH. After that class, I made a joke that my future job is decided: an e-mail-er. Yep, yep. Corny joke. I'll see myself out 🤣🤣🤣

 I'm glad you were able to remember business comm in THH. I did a lot of research in how offices function and I had a personal experience in entering one and I hope I was able to translate them well into writing. So knowing you remember a course about it, just makes me feel warm and utterly satisfied 🥺🥺🥺

Oh and you're graduating! Advance congratulations!  🎉🎊👏 I think there will be more opportunities to learn more about writing resumes so don't lose hope! You're still young! (And with the quarantine I think there'll be more online classes about it too!)

And yes!!! Organizational behavior is hella interesting! You're right! People like to disdain bias. They herald unbiased reporting, unbiased essay, unbiased judging (in contests), and etc. When bias is inherently ingrained in humans as it is inevitable to have preferences. And bc they are inherent, it's harder to identify them. Just like how people find it hard to explain why they became the way they were now bc it's difficult to pinpoint something muddled in the surroundings that have long immersed them. I don't think this makes sense but you get what I mean? 

Apart from comm, our course usually focuses on the psychology behind comm so we also get to study about behaviors as well and goddamn I was able to better understand people after I learned about it! 

Oh hon, you don't know how far your words affect me. But the answer is simple. You just motivate me with these kind feedbacks. And you craft your feedbacks with such thought and dedication and sincerity that it just makes my heart explode bc how?? Did?? I?? Manage?? To have you as my reader?? It astounds me in so many levels. You're clearly so smart!  And I'll forever be privileged and happy to having met you (even in just online!) It's a joy to talk with you! I always have fun whenever we exchange long chains of messages! It's okay! Don't pressure yourself to read my works ASAP. We all live lives apart from this site. Just know I'll always be here whenever you wanna talk about just - whatever! Thank you for wishing me luck, Aseel! I really need lots of them bc I got tons of projects ahead (in life in general but also in my writings here 😉). Thank you so much Aseel for brightening my day! Hope you're doing okay! Here's some hearts! (/ ° O °)/ 💕💕💕

[thenightthatendsatlast]

random tag

tagged by @dionysuswearsanorangetracksuit ty!! 💚

Do you make your bed? Usually, yeah.

What’s your favorite number?

23! For several years, every student in class was assigned a number that we generally used for assignment return bins and other organizational stuff that usually varied by teacher. Somehow, my number was 23 from 3rd grade to 6th grade, even though I had several different classmates every year and moved from elementary to middle school between 4th and 5th grade. Ever since, that’s been my favorite number

What is your job? I used to be a cashier, but I got too busy with school so I had to quit.

If you could go back to school, would you? I’m in high school rn, so...

Can you parallel park? Not well, but yeah. I’m not great at it but I’m not likely to hit anything.

A job you had that would surprise people? It wasn’t technically a job (I wasn’t paid) but I was an actor at a local haunted trail for two years.

Do you think aliens are real? Generally? Yeah, I mean there’s so much space we haven’t explored yet that I have to imagine that somewhere there is a planet in the right place with the right environment to support intelligent life forms.

Can you drive a manual car? I’ve never tried, so no. My mom had a manual 1998 Honda Civic but she sold it before I got my permit.

What’s your guilty pleasure? Art restoration videos on YouTube (Baumgartner Restoration, specifically)! I don’t talk about it much bc I feel like a nerd for watching them but I love hearing about the process of restoring all kinds of different paintings and how they fix damage and seeing someone who really knows what they’re doing restoring and conserving them.

Tattoos? None, and honestly I don’t know if I’ll ever want one.

Favorite color? Turquoise

Favourite type of music? Most of what I listen to is just considered “alternative”, but more specifically it’s like alt rock and pop punk (like Set It Off, NateWantsToBattle, Panic! At the Disco, and Fall Out Boy).

Do you like puzzles? Generally yeah, but it depends on the puzzle.

Any phobias? Nope, I’m just generally anxious

Favorite childhood sport? I don’t sport

Do you talk to yourself? Not out loud, usually.

What movie do you adore? I actually don’t really watch movies.

Coffee or tea? Both! Just not plain, unless it’s an herbal tea.

First thing you wanted to be growing up? Probably a vet, honestly. I have a shit-tier memory though so that could have come later.

Tagging: @asianmanatea @a-slightly-cracked-egg @sociallyawkwardmathnerd @soclosenomatterhowfar @xsunflowerthoughtsx @tootiredforyouranarchy @myhoroscopeisdeath

[sol1056]

So how likely is it that we'll hear any statement from Dreamworks about Voltron? Especially after those terrible interviews by LM and JDS. I honestly think they were just making stuff up because they kept contradicting previous interviews. I honestly can't believe anything they say anymore. Also, why would Dreamworks allow them to take part in the interviews? They'd been silent for 2 months and don't even work there anymore.

First, @dreamworksanimation couldn’t even be arsed to release an official statement in the wake of the S7 backlash firestorm. Far as I can tell, DW has a policy of ignoring its audiences once it’s got our cash. (I’m tagging them as a reminder that many of us have not forgotten their silence, nor forgiven it.)

Second, DreamWorks’ refusal to control the narrative means JDS and LM are free to do so. Who’s going to contradict them? Certainly not their former employers. Most of the fandom won’t bother listening, having turned to other, better, series. Some of the fandom will pick apart the EPs’ words for hidden meanings, and a much smaller percentage will continue their fervent belief the EPs were delicate artistes whose vision was irreparably ruined by DW. Yeah, rates a whatever.

Third, who knows if DW was even aware of the interviews beforehand. Maybe, through the industry grapevine, but notified in some official way? JDS and LM don’t work for DW anymore; they aren’t obligated to get DW’s permission so long as they’re not speaking ex cathedra on DW’s behalf.

More importantly, I haven’t seen any quotes that sounded NDA-violating. Sure, JDS can talk in generalities about VLD’s budget; the show is over. He’s not spilling any beans that impact current/potential DW financial decisions. In general, most NDAs cover the same basic rules: you can’t talk about the business’ internal workings. You can’t name names, and you better not spill anything about ongoing projects, future projects, or business finances. 

If JDS had said the real obstacle was that DreamWorks was on the verge of going complete broke? Hoo boy, trouble. He can say, “they told us to do X,” but no names, just some general ‘they’ (that we’re left to assume would be executive-level). If he’d said, “Margie called us up and said blah blah blah,” again, hoo, boy. A conversation with the C-suite usually falls under ‘internal organizational affairs,’ another definite no-no. JDS and LM just had to stay away from implying anything like that. 

Lastly… while JDS and LM said nothing that’d get them into legal trouble (nor anything that could risk their reputations at large, seeing how DW is incapable of growing any cojones and making a statement about the Voltron franchise)… that interview was still a bridge-burning act. You just don’t get invited back after you pull a stunt like that, not unless there’s been a complete overhaul and those who sacked you have since been sacked.  

And that means: either JDS and LM heard rumors from former colleagues and thus timed the interviews to steal DW’s thunder in any upcoming VLD announcement (again, control the narrative)… or they’ve had it confirmed, once and for all, that this is the end of the VLD line for them, definito. (Or alternately, that they won’t be back to work at DW for anything.) In the latter case, they have nothing to lose; it’s not like playing nice is going to get them rehired. 

Which circumstance prompted the interview, I’ll leave to each person to decide for themselves. The end result is the same: some percentage of the fandom continues to be in the former EPs’ pockets, another continues to polish their tinhats before turning their ire on WEP, and the rest of us are popcorning at worst, moved on at best.

Which is to say: most of us are already busy using our money and time to support companies like Wonderstorm, Frederator, Zagtoon, and Rooster Teeth. Y’know, ones who acknowledge the diversity of their audience and reflect that in their stories and in their cast and staff, who engage openly with their audiences when they fall short, and are transparent about their attempts to do better. 

DreamWorks has chosen to shove its mistakes under the carpet, relinquishing the narrative to former employees focused on taking all the credit and blaming every mistake on someone else. There are too many other good stories out there for us to waste out time. After all, DreamWorks can’t even seem to grow a backbone and take a public stand regarding DW’s principles as a creative force, let alone how VLD violated those and/or what DW will do differently going forward. 

Basically, I’m just not seeing any reason to expect DW to ever stand up for us – its audience – when it can’t even stand up for itself.

[let-it-raines]

Rising From The Ashes (Ch. 3)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones. As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I mean, how better to end the week than with something angsty? lol. I’ll post Second in Command on Sunday or Monday, I think. It’s much happier and totally cancels things out :D

We’ve got to go through the emotions and process, peeps. Things have to be bad before they get better!

Double “-/-” around the flashback!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3

Tag list: @resident-of-storybrooke @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog@mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 

Paperwork is scattered across her sitting room floor. At one point there was visible hardwood, but it’s been replaced with a sea of white paper with neatly printed words written across them, yellow highlighter marks slashed over certain words with handwritten notes added in filling up the margins. There’s some kind of organizational system going on, but she lost track of it hours ago. Now it’s a sea that she’s lost in, that she doesn’t know how to escape from, which is ridiculous considering all of the paperwork on the floor are just articles she found online about how to deal with someone coming home from war.

Or torture.

Or wherever the hell Neal has been.

She still doesn’t know exactly. He won’t talk about it when she visits him in the hospital. He won’t say a thing. Whenever anyone asks him about it, he deflects, changes the subject. It’s like he’s one of her high schoolers who think if they change the subject to the Friday night football game that she’ll forget that she’s trying to help them get into college. She’s not going to forget. It’s her job to help them, and she’s not going to be distracted by something so insignificant.

Neal is not the same way.

It’s been ten days since she saw him for the first time, since she had the tangible proof that he’s alive, and while her world has been thrown upside down, he seems perfectly fine, like absolutely nothing has changed. Every article she’s read, every professional she’s talked to, every conversation she’s had with Killian, it all says that he should be affected in some way.

Hell, he looks better than he did when he left. It doesn’t…nothing makes sense about this. Nothing makes sense about her life.

The fact that Neal moves in to kiss her every time she walks in his hospital room doesn’t help. She’s taken to turning her cheek, the way his lips feel on hers wrong, and after being so shocked that she couldn’t move away when she’d first seen him, she now knows how to better handle the situation. Logically, she understands why he does it. As far as he knows, Emma is still his wife. She hasn’t moved on, she didn’t file the paperwork so that she wouldn’t be married to a dead man anymore. But she has moved on, and she did file the paperwork. Legally, she has no attachments to Neal other than Henry.

Emotionally, it’s another story.

But Neal thinks that she’s his wife, and every time she visits him, he is so damn happy to see her that she’s not sure she can break his heart, not when he probably finally feels happy for the first time in so long. He talks about how much he’s missed her, about how much the thought of she and Henry kept him going all this time. It’s the only concession he makes to where he’s been, to what’s been happening, and a part of her clings to it, clings to the knowledge that she was able to bring him back with just the thought of his love for her.

It also makes her drown in guilt.

How the hell could she have moved on when he spent nearly a decade thinking about her and their child? She must seem so flippant, untrustworthy. She must be one of the worst human beings in the world.

She thinks that a lot. She thinks about how she’s a terrible person until flickers of screaming matches and petty words flash through her mind in a jumbled mess that’s difficult for her to understand and piece together.

“God,” she groans, choking back a sob while she runs her hands through her hair before rubbing the heels of her palms into her eyes, finally ending up with her fingers tightly grasping the pendant on her necklace, “this is fucked up.”

And it’s not like she has any relief in thinking of other things. Her life doesn’t get any less complicated outside of Neal. Because when she’s not thinking of how the hell she’s going to fix that and help him adjust to life, help him adjust to Henry, she’s thinking about Killian.

He has been…amazing throughout this entire thing. He is her rock, has been for so long, and she doesn’t know how he’s managing to hold himself together when she knows he must be falling apart too. And she’s not sure that thoughts of her are keeping him together.

She’s sure that it’s thoughts of her that are pulling at all of the strings that are unraveling him.

Because she can’t go back to Neal when there’s Killian here. She can’t leave the man she loves to go back to the man she once loved, the man who has been a ghost to her for longer than she knew him alive. But should she? Should she try to make it work? Is that what she’s supposed to do? Is there even a right answer?

She loves Killian so deeply and so truly that the thought of breaking his heart breaks her. They’re together. They have Ada, they have Henry, and they have each other. They’ve been a family for so long, longer than even the time she and Killian have technically been together, and she can’t break up her family. She can’t.

Yet keeping one family together means breaking another apart. Again.

It all seems so impossible, and it’s honestly the least of her problems when she really thinks about it. It’s just the one that consumes her when she’s home with only a sleeping Ada as company.  

-/-

-/-

“Momma,” Henry begins, crawling up onto her lap from where he’s been coloring on the floor while she’s been working on her paper for school. She’s so close to finishing, to graduating, and as much as she loves her kid, she kind of wishes he’d still focus on his coloring.

“Yeah, baby?” She saves her document before closing her laptop, placing it on the couch next to her while she moves Henry in her lap. God, she can’t believe how big he’s getting. He’s still got four months until he turns four, but he’s practically an adult.

“Where’s Killy?”

Her eyes instinctively close in an attempt to shut out all of her thoughts. Henry and school. All she’s trying to focus on is her son and school. And she’s only really focusing on school because she has to be able to provide for Henry. She has to be able to do something to help him have the best life that he can have. She has absolutely no time to think about Killian Jones or how he has completely changed her entire life.

She has absolutely no time to think about how his lips feel on hers, how grinding into his jeans feels, how he sounds when she bites his bottom lip. So obviously that’s all she thinks about when she’s alone.

It’s been three weeks since they kissed, and she’s honestly about another week from going crazy thinking about it. And she can only think about it because they don’t talk about it. She really wants to talk about it. She wants to know if it meant anything to him, if it means to him what it meant to her. She’s had feelings for him for longer than she’s willing to admit, mostly because she wasn’t willing to admit it to herself.

She’s been with men since Neal died, but it’s always been one date or one night, never really wanting to be in a relationship. A part of it has definitely been guilt, of feeling like she can’t move on because her husband died being an honorable man, but it’s mostly been about Henry. All she’s cared about is Henry.

And Killian.

She cares about Killian. A lot. Far more than is appropriate actually. Of all of the men in the world who she could fall for, she was dumb enough to fall for Neal’s best friend. But really, he’s her best friend. He hasn’t always been, but he has been for the past few years.

And she wants to jump his bones.

She also wants to date him, to let him into her heart more than she has been, but that’s…too much. It’s all too much, so if she keeps it on a physical level, it’s more understandable. She can’t really keep it on a physical level.

“I understand you, love.”

The words echo in her mind almost as loudly as the feel of his lips on hers continuously replays. Actually, no. They’re louder. They mean more, and those four words…they were everything.

But then she fucked it up by kissing him, by pushing too far, by making him pull back. And now while they’ve talked, while they’ve spent time together, there’s some kind of distance between them. She doesn’t want a distance between them. It’s been a long time since she wanted something for herself, and she’s struggling to allow herself to want this.

She wants to be with Killian. She’s just not sure that he wants to be with her.

She’s not sure that they even can be together.

“He’s coming over for dinner, Henry.” Henry stares at her blankly, almost like he doesn’t know what dinner is when he mostly definitely does. It’s literally his favorite time of the day. He gets to eat and Killian comes over. It’s her son’s two favorite things. He has good taste. “Killy will be here soon. Why don’t you draw him a picture to give him when he gets here?”

“Okay,” Henry sighs, sloppily kissing her cheek before crawling off of her and back to the ground, immediately pulling out a new sheet of paper from his book and getting busy drawing���something. Honestly, some things she can tell. Some things she can’t.

While Henry works on his art, she works on her paper, knowing she needs to finish it so Killian can proofread it after they get Henry to bed. She could send it to Mary Margaret, but Mary Margaret takes absolutely forever to get anything back to her. Killian is much faster, slipping on his glasses and quickly reading through it, finding mistakes as easily as if he was out commanding a ship.

So maybe something is weird between them, but she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Killian would do anything to help she and Henry. He’s a good man, a gentleman like no other, and she doesn’t know what she ever did to deserve someone like him in her life. Sometimes she thinks that she didn’t.

That she doesn’t.

She hears the front door of her apartment open, the sound of boots stepping onto the hardwood, and before she can get up to go greet him, Henry is up from the ground and running toward the door, his arms already open so that Killian can scoop him up and swing him around, laughter absolutely rumbling out of her little boy’s stomach.

“My man,” Killian laughs, shutting the door behind him and carrying Henry back to where she’s sitting, “tell me about your day.”

“I went to school,” Henry exclaims, his little chest still heaving from where Killian was swinging him around. Her chest his heaving a bit too, her heart beating wildly while she’s pretty sure butterflies actually move around in her stomach.

“Yeah? What’d you do at school?”

“Me and Kaleb ate goldfish crackers. And sat on a rainbow.”

Killian quirks an eyebrow even as his smile covers his entire face, the lines around his eyes crinkling. He looks happy, absolutely besotted with Henry, and she has to work on holding back a sob. Killian is so in love with her kid, and it both breaks and heals her heart.

She thinks she might be in love with Killian, too. She doesn’t know, though. She isn’t even sure if she’s capable of love anymore, but the way he makes her feel…she doesn’t think she’s ever experienced that before. And of course, that makes her feel awful, guilty even. She was married. Of course she’s felt this way before. Why would she have married Neal if he didn’t make her happy?

He did make her happy, didn’t he? Of course he did. He had to have, and if he were here, he’d love their son this much too.

But he’s not here. He’s not, and she doesn’t know what to do.

She just wants to be happy. Neal would want her to be happy, right?

Killian makes her happy. Killian makes Henry happy.

Shit, she wishes there was some kind of guidebook on how to deal with moving on. There technically are, she’s read enough of them, and even though she feels like she has, sometimes the guilt still nags at her. Like right now. It’s nagging at her right now because she feels free, light almost. And she shouldn’t be allowed to do that.

“A rainbow, you say?” Killian looks at her and waggles his eyebrows, something that makes her laugh without fail. “Was there a pot of gold at the end of it?”

“No. Books.”

“Ah, well, I happen to think books are just like gold. Right, Mummy?”

“I kind of like the gold,” she answers honestly, shrugging her shoulders.

Killian winks at her before leaning over and quickly kissing her cheek in greeting. “Hello, love. How are you today? Did you sit on any rainbows?”

“I went to work, picked Henry up from daycare, and have been doing school ever since. It’s not really been a sitting on rainbow kind of day.”

“Well, we’ll just have to change that, won’t we?” He shuffles Henry on his lap before standing. “Come on, Master Henry. Let’s make your mummy some dinner and you can tell me more about this rainbow.”

Later, when Henry’s in bed and Killian has finished proofreading her paper, the damn thing finally submitted to her professor, she and Killian are sitting on the couch idly watching TV. She’s not really sure what’s on. She honestly can’t pay attention to it, not with the way her mind is racing.

“Killian?”

“Yeah, love?”

“Do you think that I’m allowed to move on from Neal?”

He doesn’t reply at first, hurt flashing in his eyes, before he schools his features. What was that? “I think so. You were barely twenty-three years old when he died, and while I think that you’ll never forget him, I don’t think you can spend the rest of your life alone, not if you don’t want to be.”

“And that doesn’t make me a bad person?”

“Not at all, Swan. It makes you human. What happened to you is awful – ”

“What happened to us.”

He gives her a soft smile, one that she really likes. “Aye, what happened to us is awful, but I know that if I had been Neal, if I had been married and died, there is nothing I’d want more than for my wife to be happy.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. That’s what love is, you know? It hurts like hell a lot of the time, but at the end of the day, you just want the person you love to be happy.”

“Killian?”

“Mhm?”

“You make me happy.” She turns to face him, tentatively running her hand along his cheek. His eyes flutter closed, his thick eyelashes dropping against his cheeks, before he opens them and all she can see is that beautiful blue. “Why haven’t we talked about the kiss?”

“Swan.”

“No, seriously. I want to talk about it. It…meant something to me, and I need to know if it did for you too.”

His jaw clenches the tenseness obvious, and her heart drops into her stomach until Killian turns his head and kisses her palm, his scruff a rough contrast to his lips. “Emma, it meant everything to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s just…”

“You feel guilty,” she finishes for him, knowing that if there’s anyone in the world who understands, it’s him. He was there through it all, but it’s more than that. It’s always been more than that. “Because of Neal.”

“Aye, I do.” “But didn’t you say he’d want us to be happy? He loved us both. And if it’s okay for me to move on, to want to be free from what I feel like are actual chains holding me down, wouldn’t it be okay for us?”

“Emma, this is a dangerous game we’re playing. You are my best friend. I want to be with you. God, I want to be with you,” he groans, kissing her palms again, shivers running down her spine, before he runs his free hand through his hair, “but it’s more than just us. It’s the past. It’s Henry.”

She knows. She’s knows it’s all of that. She knows that Henry could be affected by this, but honestly, she knows that she and Killian could go up in flames, and Killian would muddle through the ashes to be there for Henry. She’s never been more sure of anything.

Ever. “I want to try. I want to let go, and I want to try. We understand each other, right?”

“Right.” He nods and allows the corners of his lips to tick up. “Then kiss me.”

And he does, leaning forward on the couch and gently sliding his lips over hers, his nose scrunching against her cheek while hers does the same. It’s the same as last time, but it’s different. It’s slower, sweeter, gentle. His hand makes its way into her hair while his thumb moves against the dip in her chin at the same gentle pace that his lips are moving overs hers. She smiles in the middle of it, not able to help herself, and Killian smiles too, pulling back from her for a second and resting his forehead against hers while he smiles down at her.

She’s happy.

That’s all she feels. There are no conflicting emotions and warring thoughts. She feels comfortable and happy, and she hopes that she can keep feeling this way. It’s all she’s wanted for so long.

Happiness.

Pure and simple happiness.

-/-

-/-

But she can’t think about any of that right now. The complexity of her life, of her relationship…relationships? Does she have relationships right now? It doesn’t matter. It can’t matter. Right now all that matters is trying to make her life has calm and as normal as possible. It’s not just her she’s thinking about.

It’s never just been her.

“Momma,” Henry yells, running into the room with his bookbag bouncing on his back until he comes to a skidding stop in front of all of her papers, nearly toppling over on top of them, “what are you doing?”

“Work,” she tells him. It’s a bit of a lie, but not totally.

“I thought daddy said you were taking some more time off of work. That’s why you’re not picking me up from school.” “I am, baby, but I can do a little work from home.” She uncrosses her legs and gets up from the floor, smoothing out her pajama pants. Did she not even change into real clothes today? Has she washed her hair? Brushed her teeth? She’s pretty sure that she brushed her teeth at least. Killian would have told her if she hadn’t brushed her teeth, right? “How was school?”

“So fun! We started a new book today, and it had trains in it. Mary Margaret let me bring it home so I could read it again.”

“Where is Mary Margaret, kid? She didn’t come inside with you?”

He shakes his head, dropping his bag to the ground. “She walked me to the door and let me inside before leaving. Leo has a dentist’s appointment.”

“Gotcha. You want a snack? Ada bug shouldn’t be up from her nap for another hour, so I can help you with your homework.”

Henry groans, throwing his head back and pouting the slightest bit. He’s only the slightest bit dramatic sometimes. “Can’t I eat and watch TV?”

“Nope. We eat, do homework, and then you can watch some TV. You know the rules.”

If there’s anything she knows for sure right now in her life, it’s that she loves her kids, and she’s going to try her absolute hardest to keep their lives as normal and as loving as possible. That is what’s most important. It’s what has to be. She would do absolutely anything to keep them happy, and she will. For as much as she goes through, they are the brightest part of her day without question.  

So she fixes Henry an apple and some peanut butter, trying to keep him healthier than she keeps herself, and sits down with him to do his math homework while he eats. When the baby monitor goes off halfway through, she leaves him to try some problems on his own before going upstairs and getting Ada, changing her diaper and bringing her downstairs. Ada will need to eat in a little while, and with Killian at work, Emma is doing this by herself. So Henry really needs to focus and get things done before her home is a madhouse.

It’s kind of always a madhouse.

“Finished,” Henry sighs, throwing his pencil on the table.

“Did you double check your work?”

“Yeah, but I know daddy is just going to check it again when he gets home from work. Do you think when I get to meet my dad that he’ll help me with homework?”

“I’m sure he’ll love to help you, baby.”

Henry twists in his chair, scrambling out of his seat and taking his plate to throw it away in the bin. “So when do I get to meet him? You and daddy get to see him, but I don’t. It’s not fair. And everyone at school keeps asking me about it.”

“We don’t know yet,” she answers honestly, knowing that it’s better just to tell him the truth. She really hopes that no one is giving him any trouble at school. Mary Margaret would tell her. She’d have to tell her. “I’m meeting with his doctors tomorrow to find out though, okay? You should be able to meet him soon.”

“Yeah, okay.”

On a normal day, she’d get Henry to spend some time outside, but she doesn’t feel like watching him right now. All she wants is to stay inside and not do anything, not think for just a little while, so she allows him to immediately start watching TV. She and Ada join him while he watches The Magic School Bus. She’s been subjected to some pretty awful kids’ shows over the years, so she’s honestly relieved when Henry really gets into something like this. It at least keeps her entertained as well.

Plus, Ada is really into the music and beat of it along with all of the colors, so it keeps her entertained as well. They really need to do some tummy time before she eats, especially since her entire schedule has been off. Emma’s been trying to keep it the same, but it’s so hard right now. Ada’s sleep schedule is about as messed up as Emma’s is right now. She’s got to start fixing that tomorrow.

They’re only on their second episode when the front door opens and closes, Killian’s footsteps sounding as he steps onto the hardwood. She doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s him. She’d know the sounds of him coming home anytime. It’s something she’s grown accustomed to over the years, no matter where they are living.

“Hi,” he greets, leaning down and quickly kissing her cheek. It’s something he’s done thousands of times, but it feels…different. It feels like it’s friendly, something between friends, not something between them. But she’s imagining things. She has to be. Everything is so crazy right now, that even the life that is normal doesn’t feel normal. And hormones. She still has crazy hormones, right? It’s fine. Everything is fine.

“Hi, my Ada bug,” he laughs a little more enthusiastically, gently taking her out of Emma’s arms and propping her up on his waist while Ada cups his cheeks with her adorably chubby hands. He kisses her cheek, making her laugh. God, her laugh is like pure joy, and Emma doesn’t think she’s ever going to get tired of it. The first time she laughed was a few days ago, and it’s been so fun to make her laugh ever since. She’s really into it when Emma blows raspberries on her stomach or when she drops her toys, and the laughter that comes from both of those things is precious. “I missed you today, my little love. Yeah, Daddy missed you quite a bit.” Her eyes follow him as he sits down in the center of the couch, right between she and Henry.

“Hey, lad. How was school?”

“I already told Mom.”

“You still have to tell me. You know that. I want to hear about your day.”

When Killian pauses the show, she thinks that Henry might lose it, but he doesn’t, only groaning the slightest bit. “It was good. I took my science test.”

“How’d you do? You ace it?”

“I think so. There was one question, with the photo plant thing.”

“Photosynthesis.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know that one, but I tried.” “That’s all you gotta do, bud,” Killian tells him, a bright smile on his face while he alternates between talking to Henry and running his fingers over Ada’s stomach to keep her entertained. “Did you and Mum already do your homework?”

“Yeah, but you’ve got to check it. It’s math.”

“I will after dinner, okay?” Killian presses play on the remote, the show playing again, before leaning over to her and whispering in her ear, “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute?”

The familiar feeling over nausea she’s been feeling for a little under a month now takes over, but she nods, getting up from the couch and walking through the archway to the kitchen while Killian follows behind her, Ada still in his arms. She’s starting to get fussy, fidgeting a bit, and before she and Killian sit down at the kitchen table, she takes her out of his arms and gets ready to feed her.

“What’d you want to talk about?”

Killian reaches up and runs his hand over his stubble, his fingers tapping against the skin. He’s nervous. Why is he nervous? He shouldn’t be nervous.

“I got a call from one of Neal’s therapists today.”

“Dr. Vibuthi?”

“Dr. Carter. He was checking to see what we plan on doing for his home situation. I suggested we put him up in a nice hotel, like we talked about, until we figure out how exactly to tell him about us since we’re supposed to be easing him into the changes.” “Where’s the but in this scenario?”

“But,” Killian continues, “Dr. Carter says that he really needs to be staying somewhere familiar, such as his house before he left. I tried to explain to him that we’re living somewhere different, that it’s not even the same state, but he was insistent.”

“He can’t stay here, though. There’s evidence of our life, of Ada, everywhere.”

“I know. I told him that, that there was no way in hell I’d hide my daughter or act like she was something to be ashamed of, but he insisted. And God,” Killian sighs, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t know what to do. They tell us he has to stay with us but that we’re supposed to ease him into life here. It’s all so fucking complicated.”

She almost instinctively covers Ada’s ears, not wanting her to hear the curses even if she’s too young to truly understand things like that, only picking up things that they say over and over again. It’s just habit, and she really doesn’t want her baby’s first word to be fucking.

That would be something.

“So what do you think? What? We set him up in the guest room for a little while, until we figure things out. We have him meet Henry, let them get to know each other a bit, and then we sit down with him and tell him about what’s going on with us?”

“I guess. I don’t really see another option. We just have to rip the band-aid off. From what I can tell, despite everything, Neal seems fine. And he’s a grown man. As much as, yes, we have to ease him into things, he’s not going to want to be babied. You know how he hates that.” “Yeah, that’s true.” She doesn’t want to say the next words, but she has to. She can’t not know. Maybe she’ll be able to sleep if she knows. “Are we going to stay together, Killian?”

His eyes blow wide before they settle, his face becoming as neutral as possible. She’s seen him do it a million times, and she’s not sure that she likes what it means. “I don’t know, love. I don’t know if it’s the right thing to do, if it’s the honorable thing to do.”

“I don’t care about honorable. I love you. That doesn’t just change. And I know it’s not even the most important thing right now, but it is consuming me.” “Emma, I love you and our kids more than anything in the world, but this isn’t a black and white situation. If you want to have another chance with Neal, I have to give you that chance. Do you know what you want?”

You, she thinks.

You, she knows.

“No,” she says instead, the truth unable to pass her lips. “I feel like I don’t know anything. I feel like I have no answers, but I don’t want to leave you. I also just don’t want to hurt Neal. He doesn’t deserve that.” “No, he doesn’t, but this is where we are. I’m sorry, Swan, but if this is how our life is going to be, we’re going to have to make some hard decisions, okay? It’s going to be bloody awful at first, but we don’t have a choice. We should just try to be happy that Neal is getting his second chance. We’ll figure out things as we go. I make plans for a living, but this is it. This is all I can come up with for us right now.”

She feels the tears welling up in her eyes again, the sting of fresh water, and she wonders why the hell this couldn’t have happened when she wasn’t still adjusting to having a baby. She’s not sleeping, her hormones are all over the place, and absolutely everything is heightened. It’s awful. Every time she cries she feels ridiculous even if she knows that she’s not. She wouldn’t be ridiculous for crying even if she wasn’t in one of the world’s most stressful situations, but nothing makes her feel better. Nothing except for her kids.

And Killian. Killian makes her feel better which only makes everything worse.

“So did Dr. Cater say when they were releasing Neal? I thought this is what we were talking about at the appointment tomorrow.”

“Aye, it is, but he wanted to run over a few more things with me beforehand.”

“But what did he say about when?”

“He said Neal could come home tomorrow, actually.”

[fen-ha-fuck-you]

the 100 ask game

hi i was tagged by approximately a million of you for various things in the past few weeks, so forgive me if i missed you, but I believe this one included: @little-oxford-st — @yourereallyhere — @foreverandalwayscrysis — @clarkgriffon — @mamabearsdontthink 

and i’m putting the rest of this under a cut bc she’s thicc ladies

1. What station on the Ark would you be from?

honestly, probably alpha tbh

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

treason. i don’t know specifics, but it would absolutely be treason

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

nah

4. What would the necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh..)

bold of you to assume i’d let that boy so much as speak my name

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

gina martin, may she rest in peace

6. Create a squad of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

clarke and bellamy, clearly, and also lincoln, diyoza, and roan. i call it Competence Squad™

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to?

get grounder culture 31596026746 feet away from me. skaikru.

8. What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

Abi 

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

from a writing perspective? fascinating character and arc  from a personal perspective? boy can choke 

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

absolutely not, nope

11. What character do you relate to most?

clarke 100%

12. What character do you like the least?

currently? echo. the one thing I like less than a complete asshat of a character is one with absolutely zero development, and there she is, right there. don’t @ me

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

clarke’s s3 fetish gear but like............... more leather

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

i have a soft spot for the worms, idk why. i love their useless non-existent asses

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

i’d probably be doing some high-level organizational work or some shit. i’m good with patterns and recall

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

without hesitation

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

let’s make it a democracy babey

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

i have no goddamn clue

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

neither. clarke griffin approach. protect the kid, but give her some tough love because holy shit, you can’t just kill people charlotte

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

clarke was basically the chancellor anyway and saved their asses more than any of the other “chancellors” so i’m gonna go with clarke

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

kane’s

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

gimme the tunes

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

a nice mix of geometric patterns and flow-y nature. undercut. classic american football shit

24. Favorite quote?

"You won’t do it.” / “You don’t know me very well.”

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

i keep answering clarke, and i’m gonna keep answering clarke. girl fights smart and dirty, and uses her surroundings to her advantage. plus she’s highly adaptable

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

i’ll say BE is my least favorite ship if i damn well feel like it, and i do. very closely followed by CL. for writing reasons, specifically and bellarke might as well be canon already so i’m gonna say that for both of the other ones

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

no more cameos.............. blease, i’m begging................................ but i’m gonna go with season 6 because i have a whole playlist for it and say The Devil Within by Digital Daggers

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

jam out and snark until we inevitably killed each other probably

29. You’re an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?

just let clarke kill me in a really hot way

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

where the fuck is harper’s backstory jroth

31. A character you’d bang?

i would be in the middle of a blarke sandwich, thanks. the dream. alternatively, a roan/diyoza sandwich. the forbidden ship

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

would i rather eat people, only algae, or a whole variety of fresh fruits and vegetables? are you joking?

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

yeah, hard pass. i’d sure as hell train though holy fuck

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

again, treason. 

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

i’d probably bond with murphy and clarke first. i probably wouldn’t get along with jasper much

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

i’d be fine with the solitary element for a good chunk of time, it’s the outside survival part that’d be the problem

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

recon that shit

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

DIYOZA. mccreary.

39. Would you Spacewalk?

fuck no space scares the shit out of me

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

... bugs. but people are a close second.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

no??? a peaceful solution was right there. it wouldn’t be difficult. as long as i didn’t have a group of people staging a coup to remove the person i made a deal with and also someone who didn’t give a flying fuck about anything but war at the time. *cough*

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

i’d rather try to save someone’s life than cause so much damage to someone’s injury that it kills them, if that’s what you’re asking. 

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

LMAO, i’d probably just straight up kill her, but i also don’t have a bellamy to be in love with, nor is she my sister

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper?

cryo, fuck that shit

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

clarke, bellamy, diyoza. everyone else is window dressing