#all of my attempts to mend our relationship by giving them awkward gifts or clean the room every other day since I know how obsessed with

[mayathescientist]

I don't trust people who are obsessed with cleanliness and personal hygiene and rely on their feelings of disgust to make a moral judgement or form an opinion about a person.

I don't trust people who make conclusions about people very easily and like to claim people with one or two words they use to define this person's place in their eyes.

I don't trust people who are popular, sociable and talk about others a lot. I don't trust people who measure everyone by how that person compares to them.

for no particular reason at all :)

#maya posts #talking to mia #vent post #Almost #I hate my roommates and the way they talk about other people behind their backs and how they treat me with discreet contempt when I'm here #and how they no doubt already talked so much shit about me when I wasn't there considering discussing other people is this favorite pastime #they're also friends with our class leader which no doubt shaped her opinion about me loooool #can't wait to turn into an exile in my uni class too hell yeah #they know nothing about my personality my interests etc and frankly they don't fucking care #as long as they see that I'm fat obviously neurodivergent in my patterns of communication and have poor hygiene and have to build self care #habits from the ground up after years of untreated mental health issues #as long as they see I don't go out as much as them don't have many friends or a boyfriend and don't rly have what's considered achievements #their judgement on me is sealed #and it would be fine if they just thought i was a loser because well socially I am and they think so too #they literally pretend I don't exist. like it's just the two of them living in the room. #all of the decisions are made without me. they cook for themselves I cook for myself. my attempts to even ask if I can move something while #cleaning are IGNORED. #all of my attempts to mend our relationship by giving them awkward gifts or clean the room every other day since I know how obsessed with #cleanliness they are #all of my attempts to make peace were IGNORED. #whenever someone knocks on our door it's always one of their friends looking for them #I'm a nobody #absolutely a nobody #I literally just don't exist. #also these girls are extremely lesbophobic and just bigoted in general I don't think they know anything about my queerness but they might be #just kinda able to tell #I literally wear boxers and flannel shirts and I own a shirt with a male cut and I have extremely short hair and wear exclusively trousers #I don't think they haven't noticed #considering the fact they cared enough to notice how often I was my hands

[swishandflickwit]

Captain Swan Fics Masterlist

For the OUAT Fandom Crescendo ;)

hindenburg

Because in an explosion of clarity, she realizes that without even looking, she’s built a home here – has planted her feet and grown some roots, roots that have only strengthened with every connection she makes with her family, with every relationship she builds in this town and isn’t that something?

The lost girl isn’t so lost after all.

darling you got to let me know (should i stay or should i go?)

A snippet of a pretty woman au that no one asked for.

feeling like a house but not a home (i want you to know)

“Home,“ she echoes, recalling the words from the video, recalling the article that details how she was left, abandoned on the side of the freeway with nothing but a blanket, the name ‘Emma’ stitched onto it, the first and last things her parents ever gave her, remembering the Swans who had promised her the same thing only to return her when they had a child of their own cause it was just that easy for them to let her go, all the foster families that took her only to discard her when things got rough, and she wonders what that is.

Casting On, Casting Off

“You got a secret knitting talent or,” and at this she shuddered, “ugh, knitting fetish I should know about?”

She’s all for sexual experimentation and fetishes but, seriously? Did it have to be knits?

North

“I once told your mother she was my happy ending, you know, but I was wrong.”

To Find Rest in Each Other’s Arms

They can’t seem to find a comfortable way to fit, no matter how they position themselves. Amidst adjusting once more, Emma ends up kneeing him in the groin and Killian falls flat to his back as he groans.

“Oh!”

Killian’s hand is down there to ease the ache and instinctually, (despite never reaching that level, never having the time), Emma’s hand makes it there as well. But when her hand touches his over, well, him, she realises what she’s doing and snatches her offending limb right back.

“Oh.”

And then she’s laughing - she’s laughing at the situation because it’s… it’s awkward but it’s pretty damn perfect too.

what is it about you? (that i can’t get enough of)

He sighs, winding his arms around her and bringing her to him so closely till her every line and curve is matched to his.

A perfect fit.

all I ever knew (only you)

The band starts a new tune then, something sharp and electric that has Emma turning to her father with a huge smile on her face and jumping in delight. And gods above but she is beautiful, always, but never more when she smiles like that - innocent and pure and light - so light, after the trying ordeal that was getting him back from the Underworld.

Everything about her draws him in, and he is powerless to resist the pull between them.

So he doesn’t.

piece by piece (he collected me)

He wants to be his usual calm and cocky self, but his voice is equally anguished when he answers, “You brought Henry.”

Emma’s face falls, like she isn’t too ecstatic about it either and he thinks, good.

“Regina and I agreed that this place was too dangerous and that he shouldn’t come. But, he wouldn’t let up, said he had to be with us otherwise he’d find a way to follow and, well, he’s a resourceful kid.” She lets out a breath that is both exasperated and fond. “We figured it best he came with us where we could keep an eye on him rather than be separated and constantly be worrying about him.”

“Stubborn like his mum, eh?” he says, trying for light and teasing but falling a little short, a little desperate.

She rolls her eyes, though her entire demeanor is tinged with trepidation. “Stubborn like all his family.”

WIP - Blanket

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

(“You’re so anal,” she’d mock.

“You say that now,” he returns, “but we’ll see who’s laughing when you go looking for fleece blankets in the dead, cold winter but find none because someone likes to use all her blankets at the same time.”

She says nothing, only throws whatever snack she’s eating at him because she knows he won’t be able to resist cleaning it up.

Also taking advantage of the fact that he’ll take note of that same snack and go out to restock on it just cause he doesn’t like when the pantry has gaps where the food should be.)

(He wishes for even just half the levity of that moment then, to give him strength now.)

you never weigh me down

“Is it so wrong for me to give my beautifully deserving wife a gift a few days after our nuptials?”

Her jaw drops in disbelief. “You got me a wedding present?”

“Don’t sound too excited, now.”

you say you want passion (i think you have it)

She has always been a woman of action

(And apparently, this Woman of Action has to add something new to the List of Things Emma Fails At: Suppressing Her Attraction to Killian Jones.)

so will you be, my life support?

He brings her back to the light.

all of you (is my favourite sweet spot)

He’s far from a disturbance, see.

The Royal Gardens

They like to pretend, see.

Here, beneath the warmth of the sun and engulfed by the sweet-smelling perfume of the flowers that surround them, there is no one named Captain Hook and no one that goes by the Dark One. There is just she, the girl in the pretty, white dress and he, the boy in the long leather coat.

you take me all the way

“So this is your world’s version of a tavern.”

She chuckles anyway and adds, to further annoy him, “We’ve upgraded a bit.”

Tonight is the night they’re about to finish what they started all those 30 years ago.

if it’s broken, it means it still works

(Fuck, who was she kidding? She’s disappointed with herself, for thinking she was equipped enough to handle this… to help him)

(Can broken pieces really mend other broken pieces?)

(Who was she kidding? Just… fuck)

In which Killian suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder following the events of the Alternative Universe and Emma helps him.

Chasing the Darkness

“Come now, Captain.” She purrs, trailing a hand down his left arm. “You didn’t actually think she’d want you like this, did you? Not when you’re so… broken.”

He’s so glad he’s had 300 years of experience going after the Dark One.

Ice Melts 2/2

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

His eyes turn from a calm cerulean to a literal icy blue, nearly gray, color before they close altogether and just like that, he fades away.

But her mother emerges to her line of sight, like the sun after an especially rainy day.

“You know what to do, honey.”

She does but when it doesn’t work, she feels like she could fade away too.

The Spaces in Between

He shifts so that their legs entwine, they are hip to hip, chest to chest and he just presses closer to her till there is absolutely no space between them and she is forced to wind her arms around his neck. She should feel suffocated; in fact, a year ago she would have bolted at such intimacy. But this is Killian and he is different and so much like her and he is trembling and she just wants him to feel safe. Like the rug isn’t about to be pulled from him any time soon or the world isn’t out to screw with him.

there’s no end, there is no goodbye

But that’s the thing, he lived nigh three centuries without her. He’d lived in the shadows for so long he’d forgotten what it was like to truly bask in the light and to remain there.

heart still beating, but it’s not working

He tries and he tries to get the words out but he’s long learned that it is an attempt at futility. While his feelings have not completely gone, it has become increasingly difficult to convey his emotions when they are but a dull roar in his chest, akin to a faded photograph in his memory.

But it doesn’t stop him from trying anyway.

21st Century Man

“You seem to be doing quite well here, 21st Century Man. Care to tell me what you’re whipping up?”

He chuckles, albeit nervously. “It’s funny you mentioned it, lass, I ah…” It’s then that he steps back and raises his hook except it’s not a hook that’s usually sitting on his brace but a-

“Is that… is that a whisk?”

The Couch

Tomorrow will surely be another hectic day and the day after that and the day after that… but still, they can these moments where they can just be and after being along for so long she likes the option of not necessarily having to be on her own and it’s a beautiful thing, to be able to choose.

wouldn’t you like to know? (perhaps i would)

And he wants to say that he does know her, because when he looks at her it is like looking at a reflection; except Emma is clear and sharp whereas he is nothing but a distorted image in a cracked mirror.

Bubbles

“Who needs eternal youth?” He pushes a strand of her hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear so he can see the entirety of her face, absolutely nothing obscuring him from her beauty. “I’ve got my Neverland right here. I’ve got you.”

Day Off

He doesn’t get to finish (some part of him grateful she stopped his ramblings) because then she is laughing and straddling him and hitting him with the pillow and shaking the bed and-

“Nothing. No obligations, no reports, no work… nothing. Killian,” she sighs his name, breathless with what, he can now tell, is excitement and decidedly not dread.

“It’s both our day off.”

Shower

He kisses her and feels her magic engulf them, pouring over them in waves of light until they are both glowing. It is chasing away the seemingly deep-set freeze into their bones and Emma is shining, shining, resplendent and beautiful and radiant and his true love…

Snow Day

It started out as a snow day, but she feels her magic - fuelled by the emotion she holds for this man (she will not call it love, not yet, but she senses herself getting there) - take root as warmth trickles from her and into the space surrounding them. They are consumed by hear and light.

The Morning After

Even in sleep the light is lulled to her and once again, as he is more recently inclined to think, he believes there is a god out there that sent him this angel to save him from his own demons. But he knows better, it is just Emma and her light drawing him in and making him want to be a better man, no longer a shadow of himself but someone more concrete, worthy to stand beside her.

Mr. Brightside

“I’m sorry to interrupt you Swan, but could you turn up the… radio please?”

“What? Why?” She glanced up at him and saw him bouncing in his seat…his prosthetic hand tapping excitedly against his lap. What the hell?“

“Because I love this song.”

…Her jaw dropped when she recognized the song, then it literally hit the ground when Hook started singing along.

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fan fic #ouat fandom crescendo #fandom crescendo #swishandflickwit ff