#cassidy c cream

[silly-shady]

I hope everyone had enjoyed their holidays! Regardless if you got extravagant gifts or not, what should be important during Christmas is spending time with your family and/or friends and gaining new memories to fond over.

Miss Malt Shake spins about happily. She knows Christmas is over, but the joy isn’t stifled. She hopes everyone got to enjoy their holidays.

P. S. This outfit was based on the festive wear @redscorpiocat gave her OC Cassidy C. Cream. I don’t have a drawing of Tootsie in her holiday wear, but I still tried to implement some changes to the design for the finishing touches.

[tessathegamefreak]

What's Charity Cremebleich's favorite hobby?

Charity Cremebleich likes to lay back and listen to music. Surprisingly, Theresa doesn't mind listening to rock music, but she primarily enjoys classical music or certain pop songs.

[redscorpiocat]

Cassidy's likes and dislikes?

Likes:

1. Oreos

2. Cookies and cream

3. Her friends and besties

4. Helping the weaker ones

5. Accepting defeat unless if it's from an enemy

Dislikes:

1. Bls and Bo obvi

2. Seeing the weaker ones feel bad

3. Losing members

4. Zachie's older sister

5. Arguments

[kawaii-sugarii]

I did an art trade with @redscorpiocat and for my part, I drew their OC, Cassidy C. Cream. She's laid-back, so I tried to give her a pose that was a mix of competitive and relaxed.

[nintendoneko64]

Guys! I have another Sugar Rush OC now!

Meet Steve S. Burster!

And as you might've already guessed, his theme is Starburst!

This was drawn by @redscorpiocat! Thank you, friend!

And in case you're wondering, those black and white circles on his clothes and necklace, they're extra accessories Red's Sugar Rush OC, Cassidy C. Cream gave him!

@tessathegamefreak

@kawaii-sugarii

You're free to draw Steve in your styles if you wish!

And yes, his hair is long. His height is that of an average Sugar Rush character and his footwear are red sandals. And the sandals have Starburst strappings.

[andrew-d-sorensen]

A drawing of @redscorpiocat ‘s OC, Cassidy C. cream, for an art trade!

I hope you like it, because I gave her outfit a redesign and changed a few colors.

[bunsystem]

Fictive tag

Radio deer[alastor]

Spider slut[angel dust]

Twirl girl[ballora]

Real bear[bear Henry]

Unstoppable[beartrap]

Beautiful bun[bianca]

Giant purple bunny[Bonnie]

Mess of tangled wires[blob]

Ol black magic[bunny Afton]

Crispy peepaw[burn]

Dead in and out[b bear]

Pink menace[candy]

Sweet girl[cassie]

It’s her[cassidy]

Lets eat[chica]

Not cool dudes[c McLean]

Scream for ice cream[c baby]

Girl power[coco]

It’s cash banooca[crash]

littlest one[cub]

Trickster bun[cuddles]

Lifes a party[c pinkie]

Rat boy[dave]

disco dan[disco bear]

Dancing spider(djmm)

We’ll be friends forever[d twilight]

Hippity hoppity[e bonnie]

Daddy’s little girl[elizabeth]

Spaghetti clown[ennard]

Crybaby sweetie[evan]

In the rainbow factory[f dash]

Gremlin Demon[finley]

Shy sweetie[flaky]

Burned again[flametrap]

Sweet bear[flippy]

Edge Soldier[fliqpy]

Edge bear[flip/fliq]

Yar har[foxy]

Og bear[fredbear]

big bear[freddy]

hook hand[fritz]

Corrupted mess[fritzny]

Me me me[ft chica]

Radio star[ft foxy]

The birthday bear[ft freddy]

Let’s rock [g Bonnie]

Party girl[g chica]

Superstar[g freddy]

Fox rox[g foxy]

Four armed drummer[g mangle]

Deranged hare[glitch]

Deranged bear[g bear]

It’s me[golden fred]

Houdini bear[great escape golden freddy]

Fiery Fox[grim foxy]

Gloomy girl[gwen]

Broken heart[heart sick baby]

Crispy man[h burn]

Blonde chomper[h fredbear]

Pretty boy[h glitch]

Mouth tummy[h n Fredbear]

Zombie peanut[h scrap]

Posh bun[h spring]

Gnarly[hunter]

Hose Beast[izzy]

Hey hey hey[jeremy]

Innocent façade[killer henry]

sweet sheep[lammy]

Look inside[lefty]

One half of an idiot[lifty]

Lollololol[lolbit]

King of hell[Lucifer]

Pick a card[magician mangle]

Beautiful fox[mangle]

silence is golden[mime]

Spaghetti bear[m freddy]

Rock and roll[mont]

Death itself[nightmare]

Scary bun[n Bonnie]

Cupcake toss[n chica]

Monster in your closet[n foxy]

Big chomp[n Fredbear]

Papa bear[n Freddy]

Rocket nut[n gin]

Dangling nightmare[n mangle]

Theatric bun[novel spring]

Sugary screwball[nutty]

Watermelon nightmare[p chica]

Illusion nightmare[p foxy]

Ghost walker[p freddy]

Still me[p golden]

Illusion auditory nightmare[p mangle]

Bear dad[pop]

Dead inside[post scoop Michael]

Let me out[princess quest glitch]

Cmon it’ll be fun[pre sl Michael]

Grumpy bun[bunny Steve]

Im radioactive[radioactive foxy]

Best in show[ringmaster foxy]

Reach for the stars[r Bonnie]

Rip rip rip[ripper roo]

Wet floor sign[r chica]

Me bird likes you[r foxy]

Please deposit 5 coins[r freddy]

Follow your dreams [rodney Copperbottom]

The best[roxanne]

Melted chicken[ruined g chica]

Angry chihuahua[ruined mont]

Besties[ruined rox]

Yarrrrrrrrr[russel]

Rollerbladin[s baby]

Peanut boy[scrap]

One armed[s bear]

Gay bun[second chance spring]

Slippery fox[serpent mangle]

I have no mouth[shattered g chica]

Legless beast[shattered mont]

still beautiful[shattered rox]

Fiesty roo[shelia]

Other half of an idiot[shifty]

A complete idiot[lifty/shifty]

Hyper fan girl[sierra]

Fail hero[splendid]

Mirror[splendont]

The og[s bonnie]

Bastard bun[spring]

Deceptive bun[steve]

Email check[s bad]

Simon the door[Spyro]

Open up your eyes[tempest shadow]

Man of science [tfc William]

Crybaby beaver[toothy]

With a taste of your lips[toxtrap]

Rockstar bun[t Bonnie]

Party girl[t chica]

gamer bear[t freddy]

Creature of the night[vamp Dave]

white woman jumpscare[van]

follow the white rabbit[vann]

Purple guy???[william]

Face the facts[w Bonnie]

T pose[w chica]

Turn off that light [w foxy]

Always me[w golden]

Anything for yuki[yuno]

B bear s bear g bear are burn bear glitch bear and scrap bear part of the killer Henry canon where beartrap is also from

[arg-machine]

Books read recently: crime & horror

You know, it’s quite pointless to write a new introduction to this latest Books read recently post, when the one for the recently-published Comics at machine HQ post will – with just a few minor alterations here and there – work perfectly.

So, thanks to the digital miracle of Ctrl+C and Ctrl+V [and arg’s not the only one who has used it: many so-called “creative types” from a certain entertainment industry have been using this copy-paste philosophy for decades…], here’s the reworked introduction:

“It’s been a while since arg published a list of books that he has enjoyed recently, and though he’s been busy lately – with the Apocalypse Project, his music and the recently-revived Marvin 1.0 project, for instance – he never stopped reading. And this week, arg is listing some of these books – horror and crime fiction to be specific – in this new post.”

The books… As is the case with these list-based posts from machine HQ, all featured titles – most of which were published this year – are arranged in alphabetical order below. Additional titles from same or similar genres are included in the Also recommended sections.

Ready? The Dark Side awaits…

“When Ruby was a child growing up in Miami, she saw a boy from her school struggling against the ocean waves while his parents were preoccupied. Instead of helping him, Ruby dove under the water and held his ankle down until he drowned. She waited to feel guilty for it, but she never did.

And, as Ruby will argue in her senior thesis while studying psychology at Yale, guilt is sort of like eating ice cream while on a diet – if you’re already feeling bad, why not eat the whole carton? And so, the bodies start to stack up.

Twenty-five years later, Ruby’s in an interrogation room under suspicion of murder, being shown four photographs. Each is a person she once knew, now deceased. The line-up includes her husband Jason. She is responsible for three of the four deaths… but it might be the crime that she didn’t commit that will finally ensnare her.”

Also recommended: A Heart Full of Headstones by Ian Rankin, Iron Annie by Luke Cassidy and The Wheel of Doll by Jonathan Ames.

“Out on the Yorkshire Moors lives a secret line of people for whom books are food, and who retain all of a book’s content after eating it. To them, spy novels are a peppery snack; romance novels are sweet and delicious. Eating a map can help them remember destinations, and children, when they misbehave, are forced to eat dry, musty pages from dictionaries.

Devon is part of The Family, an old and reclusive clan of book eaters. Her brothers grow up feasting on stories of valor and adventure, and Devon – like all other book eater women – is raised on a carefully curated diet of fairy tales and cautionary stories.

But real life doesn’t always come with happy endings, as Devon learns when her son is born with a rare and darker kind of hunger – not for books, but for human minds.”

Also recommended: Always the First to Die by R.J. Jacobs.

“Mallory Quinn is fresh out of rehab when she takes a job as a babysitter for Ted and Caroline Maxwell. She is to look after their five-year-old son, Teddy.

Mallory immediately loves it. She has her own living space, goes out for nightly runs, and has the stability she craves. And she sincerely bonds with Teddy, a sweet, shy boy who is never without his sketchbook and pencil. His drawings are the usual fare: trees, rabbits, balloons. But one day, he draws something different: a man in a forest, dragging a woman’s lifeless body.

Then, Teddy’s artwork becomes increasingly sinister, and his stick figures quickly evolve into lifelike sketches well beyond the ability of any five-year-old. Mallory begins to wonder if these are glimpses of a long-unsolved murder, perhaps relayed by a supernatural force.

Knowing just how crazy it all sounds, Mallory nevertheless sets out to decipher the images and save Teddy before it’s too late.”

Also recommended: Just Like Mother by Anne Heltzel.

When arg got back into reading comics in the 1990s, he did so because of the inventive and challenging tales a new generation of comic book writers were putting out. At the forefront of this wildly-creative bunch was… yes, Alan Moore! arg would’ve been perfectly happy if Moore had retired after creating John Constantine [who happens to be one of arg’s favourite fictional characters] but thankfully, he didn’t.

Since then, Moore has gone on to create several genre/mind-bending titles and inject new life into old, stagnating characters. And now he’s here with his first ever collection of short stories… which arg will be reading as soon as he’s through with the book he’s reading now.

And this, good reader, means that you have the chance of beating him to it…

Also recommended: Fairy Tale by Stephen King.

“‘I found out my sister was back in New York from Instagram. I found out she’d died from the New York Daily News.’

When the body of disgraced reality TV star Desiree Pierce is found on a playground in the Bronx the morning after her 25th birthday party, the police and the media are quick to declare her death an overdose. It’s a tragedy, certainly, but not a crime.

But Desiree’s half-sister Lena Scott knows that can’t be the case. A graduate student at Columbia, Lena has spent the past decade forging her own path far from the spotlight, but some facts about Desiree just couldn’t have changed since their childhood. And Desiree would never travel above 125th Street. So why is no one listening to her?

Despite the bitter truth that the two haven’t spoken in two years, torn apart by Desiree’s partying and by their father, Mel, a wealthy and influential hip-hop mogul, Lena becomes determined to find justice for her sister, even if it means untangling her family’s darkest secrets – or ending up dead herself.”

Also recommended: The Red Canoe by Wayne Johnson, The Book of Cold Cases by Simone St. James and Secret Identity by Alex Segura.

…and this is the book arg’s reading right now. He’s only a few chapters in, and as far as he can tell, this is going to be a funky folk-horror-in-an-isolated-community-as-experienced-by-an-outsider sort of a ride…

“On the idyllic island of Lute, every seventh summer, seven people die...

Lute and its inhabitants are blessed, year after year, with good weather, good health, and good fortune. They live a happy, superior life, untouched by the war that rages all around them. So it’s only fair that every seven years, on the day of the tithe, the island’s gift is honored.

Nina Treadway is new to The Day. A Florida girl by birth, she became a Lady through her marriage to Lord Treadway, whose family has long protected the island. Nina’s heard about The Day, of course. Heard about the horrific tragedies, the lives lost, but she doesn’t believe in it. It's all superstitious nonsense. Stories told to keep newcomers at bay and youngsters in line.

Then The Day begins. And it's a day of nightmares, of grief, of reckoning. But it is also a day of community. Of survival and strength. Of love, at its most pure and untamed. When The Day ends, Nina – and Lute – will never be the same.

Also recommended: The Devil Takes You Home by Gabino Iglesias.

“1988, and puberty has hit Art Barbara hard – he's a painfully socially awkward teenager, underweight, acne-ridden, and bent crooked by scoliosis. Worse, he has no extra credits to get him into college. So Art starts the Pallbearers’ Club, dedicated to mourning the homeless and lonely – the people with no one else to bury them. It might be a small club, unpopular and morbid, but it introduces Art to Mercy Brown, who is into bands, local history, folklore and digging up the dead.

Decades later, Art is writing his memoir to try and make sense of it all, because nothing about Mercy is simple. It’s all a matter of trust, right? Their friendship twists and coils around the pair of them, captured in Polaroid snapshots and sweaty gigs and the freaky, inexplicable flashes of nightmare that lurk in a folded jacket at night.

Because Art is writing his memoir to make sense of it all, but Mercy is reading it too. Mercy thinks Art’s novel – because this isn’t a memoir – needs some work, and she’s more than happy to set the record straight. What if Art didn’t get everything right? Come on, Art, you can’t tell just one side of the story…”

Also recommended: Vicious Creatures by Ashton Noone.

“On this season of The Catch, contestants must compete for love. And their lives. When the final four women in competition for an aloof, somewhat sleazy bachelor's heart arrive on a mysterious island in the Pacific Northwest, they prepare themselves for another week of extreme sleep deprivation, invasive interviews, and, of course, the salacious drama eager viewers nationwide tune in to devour.

Each woman came on The Catch for her own reasons – brand sponsorships, followers, and, yes, even love – and they've all got their eyes steadfastly trained on their respective prizes. Enter Patricia, a temperamental and woefully misunderstood local living alone in the dark, verdant woods, and desperate for connection.

Through twists as unexpected as they are wildly entertaining, the self-absorbed cast and jaded crew each make her acquaintance atop the island's tallest and most desolate peak, finding themselves at the center of an action-packed thriller that is far from scripted – and only a few will make the final cut…

Also recommended: It Rides a Pale Horse by Andy Marino.

“Liv has a lot of secrets. Late one night, in the aftermath of a party in the apartment she shares with two friends in Ålesund, she sees a python on a TV nature show and becomes obsessed with the idea of buying a snake as a pet. Soon Nero, a baby Burmese python, becomes the apartment’s fourth roommate. As Liv bonds with Nero, she is struck by a desire that surprises her with its intensity. Finally she is safe.

Thirteen years later, in the nearby town of Kristiansund, Mariam Lind goes on a shopping trip with her eleven-year-old daughter, Iben. Following an argument Mariam storms off, expecting her young daughter to make her own way home … but she never does. Detective Roe Olsvik, new to the Kristiansund police department, is assigned to the case of Iben’s disappearance. As he interrogates Mariam, he instantly suspects her – but there is much more to this case and these characters than their outer appearances would suggest.

A biting and constantly shifting tale of family secrets, rebirth and the legacy of trauma, Reptile Memoirs is a brilliant exploration of the cold-bloodedness of humanity.”

Also recommended: Shifty's Boys by Chris Offutt, The Houseboat by Dane Bahr and Clown in a Cornfield 2 by Adam Cesare.

“Surrounded by barren trees in a snow-covered wilderness with a dim, dusky sky forever overhead, Siberia’s Kolyma Highway is 1200 miles of gravel packed permafrost within driving distance of the Arctic Circle. A narrow path where drivers face such challenging conditions as icy surfaces, limited visibility, and an average temperature of sixty degrees below zero, fatal car accidents are common.

But motorists are not the only victims of the highway. Known as the Road of Bones, it is a massive graveyard for the former Soviet Union’s gulag prisoners. Hundreds of thousands of people worked to death and left where their bodies fell, consumed by the frozen elements and plowed beneath the permafrost road.

Fascinated by the history, documentary film producer Felix “Teig” Teigland is in Russia to drive the highway, envisioning a new series capturing life and death on the Road of Bones with a ride to the town of Akhust, “the coldest place on Earth”, collecting ghost stories and local legends along the way. Only, when Teig and his team reach their destination, they find an abandoned town, save one catatonic nine-year-old girl – and a pack of predatory wolves, faster and smarter than any wild animals should be.

Pursued by the otherworldly beasts, Teig’s companions confront even more uncanny and inexplicable phenomena along the Road of Bones, as if the ghosts of Stalin’s victims were haunting them. It is a harrowing journey that will push Teig beyond endurance and force him to confront the sins of his past…”

Also recommended: Devil House by John Darnielle and The Hacienda by Isabel Canas.

Well, that’s it for this new Books read recently post. Visit The Apocalypse Project [on twitter and on tumblr], and stay tuned to machine HQ blog…

[young-prince-firefly]

I know y'all missed these! Incorrect quotes part 7?? I have no fucking idea

Mike: I'm a multi-tasker

Liz: Having Tumblr open while stimming isn't multi-tasking

C.C: Can I please feed the ducks?

Izzy: Murder is a genetic trait and it didn't present in CC but it did present in me

Cassidy: Fire doesn't work so try freezing him

Gabriel: Why do I feel like you've been watching MHA?

Mike: Is it bad if I kin assigned all of us as the Todoroki family?

Jeremy: Are my eyes pretty?

Fritz, who is in love: They glitter like the ocean or an Emerald

Susie, who is just sweet: They're full of kindness

Gabriel, a realist: If you find the color green pretty, then yes

Cassidy, a bitch: They're your fucking sight orbs, they're not supposed to be "pretty"

Will: You cannot defeat me!

Cassidy: Okay boomer

Mike: Why... Just why?

CC, surrounded by stacks of banana bread: We were hungry and Susie was stressed

Liz: I love My Little Pony!

Mike: Never look up art on the internet! I made that mistake...

CC: I don't think the art is that bad...... I just don't get why they put Rarity in lingerie

Izzy: I just heard Fritz say, "Who taught Jemmy the fuck word?"

Liz: Doesn't he use the f word all the time?

CC: She censored it

Mike: Oh God, Eliza say Fuck

Izzy: Do it, Liz, say fuck

Will: I love all of my children equally

Will: CC, Elizabeth, and...

Will: *looking at smudged ink on his hand*

Will: Mackerel

Henry: What do we do when we feel sad?

Mike: Arson

Liz: Ice cream

CC: cry

Will: Murder

Izzy: Dye my hair

Charlie: Add to cart

Sammy: Hoes mad

Alexis: Sleep

Aiden: Fake my death

Henry, shaking his head: Y'all need therapy

Mike: and Jesus

Will: Actually, my children are angels

Liz: Begging Will for ice cream

Mike: Laughing at CC

CC: crying his eyes out because a poster had a scary face on it

Maria: Will, sweetie, our children hate us

Charlie: How much to not hate myself

Cashier: Fruit roll-ups cost $5 and a box of Capri suns costs about $3

Charlie: Thanks. You're a life saver

Sammy, playing a monster truck game: And you die! Haha

Mike, setting down the cookies he brought for the twins: Please don't commit murder.

Charlie, trying to listen to music but ads: It's a truck, it wasn't alive to begin with

Mike: I've known how to drive since I was 10. I drove Eliza and CC to get McDonald's.

Jeremy F: Working here will be okay. What could possibly go wrong?

After exactly 5 nights

Jeremy F: It all went wrong!

Mike: Is being a god lonely?

Old man C: Is experiencing everything life has to offer plus more lonely? Is meeting many people and losing them lonely? Is living 8 lifetimes to the fullest lonely?

Old man C: It's not lonely being a god. It's lonely when you give up living because you think you have all the time in the world

Gabriel: You can't eat sandals!

Fritz: Fine! Then I'm becoming a scandal!

[duskturns]

Shifted || Dusk&Cassidy

           It had finally happened and she hadn’t been there. Her heart practically broke seeing the myriad of texts and calls from her son that had gone unnoticed while she was running through the woods, her phone left in her car. Immediate panic set in, hand hitting against Grayson’s chest as she demanded he check his phone and have Dan check his too, but then he was there. Already a few inches taller than her, in sweats and running up to her. The words that fell from his mouth felt foreign.

         ‘I called Dad and he helped.’ No, she had not heard that right. For starters because he never called Cassidy ‘Dad,’ or he hadn’t in a few years anyway, but mostly because it didn’t sound right that Cassidy had been there for Aiden, so many nights when he hadn’t shown and Aiden was little, and so many nights when he had but Aiden didn’t want the help and finally there was a merging of Cassidy both being there and Aiden wanting him to be. What followed was a day of Dusk making it up to her son that she hadn’t answered her phone, breakfast where ever he wanted, money for him and his girlfriend to go to the movies, a new Amp that was going to likely ruin her life when he practiced in the garage but the entire day all she could think about was Cassidy, poking and prodding her son for more. ‘He really stayed the whole night?’ ‘He brought you new clothes?’ ‘He left work?’ It warmed her heart each time Aiden nodded, or grunted out a yes, even when he eventually was like ‘Mum, you’re being too much.’ 

         So when Aiden left to take his girlfriend to the theatre Dusk started cooking. At first she wasn’t really thinking of the why, she was usually amped up after a full moon, she tended to clean a lot, cook a lot, use the shower head a few more times than normal, so she didn’t really know why she was doing it until she started to box up segments of lasagne she cut up into smaller sizes while pancakes cooked in a pan. They were for Cassidy and the kids. Cassidy wouldn’t eat the lasagne, but the kids could, take them to school for lunch, have them when the babysitter was oven. The pancakes though, all him. She’d even been putting cream cheese in them to make them sweeter like she used to when they were kids, container of her own maple strawberry syrup.

         Showing up at his trailer with them she still felt the effects of the full moon on her skin but knew that feeling wasn’t really going to change her actions. After New Years she’d wanted to see him but he’d told her he wasn’t going to support her how she needed, that she should move on, so she hadn’t known what to say, especially considering what had happened with Gray before the New Year had come. Maybe he was still telling the truth, that he wasn’t going to ever treat her the way she felt she needed to be, and this was all about being a father to Aiden but Dusk had hope it was more.

          She approached his door with that hope, one hand holding a soft cooler containing the various packaged foods and the other adjusting her hair. Hope didn’t disguise nerves though and when the same hand that had adjusted her mahogany locks knocked on his trailer door rushes of thoughts came through her head. Would he notice the white knit top was so low cut he could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra? Would he notice that among the chains that hung from her neck that it wasn’t just one tight around her throat that read ‘Aiden’ but one lower, between her cleavage that was a simple ‘C’? Would he notice she’d put on new nails in a soft gray the same shade as the streak in his hair? Would he notice she’d worn perfume and hadn’t just sprayed it on her neck but her wrists and jeans? Did she actually want him to notice any of that? 

@cassidyxbolton​

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Dear Henry, (1/1)

Summary: Henry Swan has never met his father. After years of receiving postcards and trading letters with him, Henry may finally get his chance when his father's ship arrives back in Storybrooke. What Henry does not know is someone else will be arriving in father's place, someone with a secret they can no longer keep to themselves. Who is the man who arrives to meet Henry and his mother, and how will his presence alter their lives?

A/N: This fic was inspired by a prompt shared on Discord by @lonelyspectator12​ who requested a Dear Frankie AU. Though I have not seen the movie, the details shared about the film prompted this idea, so please enjoy some Captain Cobra feels with a side of Captain Swan. Thanks to @kmomof4​ and @lonelyspectator12​ for giving this the once over!

Rated G for fluff and mild levels of angst / ~4400 words / available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list

~/~

Henry Swan has never met his father. A whirlwind romance between his mother and a handsome sailor had concluded with the man’s return to sea and her finding out she was pregnant a few weeks later. After Henry was born, his mother had reached out to the man, Neal Cassidy, informing him of his new status as a father but without asking for or demanding a thing from him. She simply felt he had a right to know and that he could have a role in Henry’s life if he chose to.

The postcards began to arrive a few months later, vibrant images of exotic and far off destinations with a quick note written along the back in a script that seemed too elegant for a sailor’s hand. Henry’s mother, Emma, would read them to him as an infant and toddler, displaying them next to his crib until he was old enough to read them for himself, stashing them away in a wooden box as if they were the most priceless of treasures.

The moment he mastered penning his ABCs, Henry began writing to his father. Sharing with him all the little details of his life as a five year old, a six year old, a seven year old, and on up until now - age eleven. He wrote of his favorite toys, his favorite foods, his favorite activities with his mother, how he liked to play at the beach in his castle where he could keep a weathered eye on the horizon while thumbing through his box of postcards and imagine which new land his father might be visiting at that exact moment, and which one they might travel to together some day. In return, his father sent him wondrous letters filled with all the details and adventure a boy craved. In them he shared his passion and love for the sea, his dedication to his profession, and lessons he wished to impart to his son, despite the distance and circumstances that separated them. Henry treasured each letter as he had every postcard and through the years had to find larger boxes that could accommodate his growing collection.

That was until this past week when he’d received two of the best gifts he could have ever asked for on his birthday. The first, a proper sea chest his mother had commissioned from their local craftsman, Marco, and the second, a letter from his father informing Henry that his ship would be docking in Storybrooke a week after his birthday and that, if his mother were agreeable, he would very much like to see Henry and take him out for an ice cream.

His mother had been reluctant to agree. In fact, she had always been guarded when it came to the subject of Henry’s father and the letters the two of them exchanged. While she had never discouraged the correspondence, Henry had always gotten the impression she wanted to know as little about them as possible, not always able to hide or school her concerned expression or disapproving side eye whenever a new letter arrived. Henry’s pleas and puppy dog eyes had done the trick though, and now here he was sitting in Granny’s diner waiting to meet the man he’d longed for all his life.

He could barely keep still in the booth, eyes fixed on the door as excitement and worry turned cartwheels in his stomach while his mother tried to temper his enthusiasm, preparing him for the likelihood that his father might not be able to come at all. As the minutes ticked past the time his father was scheduled to arrive, Henry’s world began to deflate. His mother suggested they could go down to the docks and make sure his ship hadn’t been delayed then told him to stay put whilst she went to the restroom. She hadn’t been gone long when the bell over the door chimed, signaling the entrance of a tall man in a peacoat and wool scarf with a sailors beanie covering his dark hair.

The man pulled his hat off his head then swept his hand through his hair a few times to try and tame it while his eyes scanned the diner. When they landed on Henry a soft smile pulled at his lips, making his eyes crinkle in their corners. He’d obviously recognized the boy from the recent school portrait Henry had sent him, and with hesitant steps started to make his way over. Henry was frozen in his seat, eyes wide and heart hammering away behind his rib cage. The man stopped at the end of the booth, hat fidgeting in his hands and Adam’s apple bobbing from the heavy way he swallowed.

“Henry?” the man said, his voice soft with a warm lilt that finally prompted Henry into action. “I’m--”

“Dad!” Henry exclaimed, lunging at the man and throwing his arms around his waist, nearly knocking him over with his exuberance.

“I--” the man began again, only to be cut short by Henry’s mother’s outrage.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing with my son?”

Henry pulled back and stared at his mother, who was marching a war path back towards the booth. “Mom? This is…” Henry swung his eyes up at the man and asked, “Aren’t you my…?”

A soft smile remained on the man’s lips, but the crinkles around his eyes were gone. “I’m afraid not, lad,” the man said before turning his attention towards the angry mother awaiting an explanation. “Killian Jones,” he introduced, holding his hand out towards Henry’s mom. “I work with Neal as ship’s Chief Engineer.”

Emma took the man’s hand, her demeanor relaxing as she shook it and introduced herself in turn. “Let me guess,” she said with knowing resignation. “Neal isn’t coming.”

“Not coming?” Henry cried, tears stinging his eyes. “No. He… he said he would be here. He said we’d--”

“He wanted to be here, lad,” the man, Killian, assured, placing a hand on Henry’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “It couldn’t be helped, though. He… he’s been quarantined and cannot leave the ship. He asked me to come here with his regrets and to… buy you the ice cream he promised.”

“No.” Henry shook his head forlornly. All the things his mother had tried to warn him about over the years threatened to pull him into a riptide of despair as the truth hit him. “If that were true, then you’d be quarantined, too. They wouldn’t have let you off the ship either. He just… he just doesn’t want to see me.” He didn’t need the man to answer, he could see the truth of it ticking away in his jaw and tightening in the grip he still had on his hat.

“Henry, I--”

He didn’t let the man finish, shoving past him and bolting for the door as tears streamed down his face.

“Henry! Lad, wait!” Killian called out, intending to go after him until a hand grabbed his arm.

“Don’t,” Emma said. “I know my kid. He needs his space right now. I’ll go after him when he’s had some time to process his disappointment.”

Killian nodded his concession and scrubbed a hand down his face as he let out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry, lass. I didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“Neal hurt him,” she reminded, crossing her arms over her chest. “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to this meeting. I knew, despite the postcards and the letters that Neal didn’t really want the responsibility of being a father and would most likely chicken out at the last minute. He’s never been one to own up to his duty, and that certainly isn’t your fault. None of this is.”

Killian winced and ran his tongue over his lips. “Actually,” he hedged. Guilt and remorse swirled in his forget-me-not eyes as they met hers. “It is.”

Emma cocked her head to one side, brows pinched together in inquiry as she asked, “How so?”

Gesturing towards the booth, Killian slid into the seat across from Henry’s mother and took in a deep breath before beginning his confession.

“When your letter first arrived ten years ago, Neal struggled with how to respond. He wanted to reply, wanted to have some sort of connection to his son, but he didn’t know what to do or how involved he truly wished to be. I encouraged him to start small. To send something that would keep the lines of communication open.”

“The postcards.”

“Aye,” Killian confirmed. “He picked one out during our first shore leave after receiving your letter and a few days went by before he finally came to me asking for help with what to say. After several attempts he shoved the card and pen in my direction and said, ’you write it. You’re better with words’, so… I did.”

“You sent Henry all those postcards and letters?”

Unsure of how to take the woman’s astonished expression and tone, Killian pressed on, “I never intended to,” he said. “But during our next shore leave, Neal picked out another postcard and asked me to write his son another note. Said you would notice the difference in our handwriting and he didn’t want to do anything that might prevent you from letting Henry have them. He picked out every postcard with Henry in mind, I just… supplied the words.”

“And when Henry started writing letters?” she asked in an accusatory tone. “Did Neal even read them or has Henry really been corresponding with you all this time?”

“I assure you, love,” Killian professed. “Neal has read every single one of Henry’s letters and has cherished them all. Every sentiment I’ve written back has come from Henry’s father.” Reaching up Killian scratched at the infernal patch behind his ear that always seemed to flare up when he became nervous. “Though, I admit that much of my own affections towards your boy may have worked their way onto the pages as well.” Furtively, he glanced up at her through his lashes, gauging her response and relieved to find no anger directed his way in her expression, which appeared quite touched.

Wetting her lips, an action he found far too alluring given who she was and on whose behalf he was currently there for, she tucked a section of her loose, golden curls behind her ear and said, “You must be a really good friend, writing all those letters for Neal. Whatever possessed you to agree to it in the first place, much less keep going?”

Rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort, Killian sucked his lips between his teeth and weighed his response. With a heavy sigh he revealed, “My father left my brother and me when we weren’t much older than Henry. When Neal slid that first postcard my way, all I could think was… what I wouldn’t have given to have received something from my father. To know he thought of me on occasion, that he still held some small measure of fatherly affection towards me. I didn’t want Neal’s son to grow up as I did, as he did, and given his willingness to reach out by purchasing the postcard in the first place, I thought it only a matter of time before he stepped up and…”

“Whose idea was it to set up the meeting?” Emma asked.

“Mine,” Killian answered barely above a whisper. “But he agreed to it right away. Never showed even a moment’s hesitation until…”

Emma nodded her head knowingly. “Yeah. That sounds like him.”

“So, what now?” Killian asked. “I feel terrible. I’d like the chance to tell Henry I’m sorry, to tell him the whole truth, but I don’t want to make matters worse.”

“Come on,” she said, getting up from the booth. “We’ll go tell him together.”

“You know where he is?”

“I’m his mother. Of course I know where he is.” Flicking her eyes up to him, she arched one her brows and a smirk twitched at the corner of her lips. “You should, too, seeing as how you’ve been his pen pal all these years.”

Killian stood, brows furrowed as he followed her out the door. When she turned towards the sea Killian knew immediately where the lad had gone.

“His castle.”

Looking back at him over her shoulder, Emma smiled then instructed, “I’ll talk with him first, then wave you over if he feels up to speaking with you. Sound good?”

“Aye,” Killian replied, falling in step beside her. “Thank you, love.”

Killian waited, hands tucked in his pockets as he watched mother and son discuss all that had occurred that morning. Neal Cassidy is a damn fool, Killian muttered to himself. How the man could have ever let a woman like Emma Swan slip through his fingers, he’d never know. Killian had already known what a remarkable lad his mate’s son was, and never understood why he wasn’t willing to put forth a greater effort with the boy. Now that he had met the beautiful, fierce, incredible woman who had raised Henry all on her own, Killian wanted nothing more than to go beat some sense into the man for not appreciating the precious treasure he could have rightfully claimed long ago, even knowing the bloody wanker truly did not deserve either of them.

The salty air scratched the back of Killian’s throat as he drew in a deep breath at having been summoned by Emma. His feet sank into the sand, his footfalls heavy with trepidation over what all she had disclosed to the lad and what his reaction would be. When Emma stood, she offered the spot next to Henry to him then stepped back, still within ear shot but offering them a semblance of privacy. Henry’s arms were folded on top of his knees which were bent into his chest, his chin resting on his forearms as he gazed out into the harbour. Tear tracks were still visible on his cheeks, making Killian’s chest tighten painfully.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t honest with you, Henry,” Killian murmured softly over the ripple of the surf. “About your father.”

Long moments stretched between them before Henry finally replied. “Mom says you’re the one who’s been writing to me. That you wrote on my dad’s behalf because he… Is that true?”

“Aye,” Killian answered, his heart squeezing a bit more in the vice Henry’s continued avoidance of looking in his direction had started to apply within his chest cavity.

“Does he even care about me at all?” Henry whispered on a small sob, tucking his face down into his arms and knees as his body shook from fresh tears.

Panicked, Killian wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders, barely aware of his mother’s rush forward until she was crouched down at her son’s other side, rubbing soothing circles over his back.

“Henry, listen to me,” Killian said with a gentle command. “Your father does care about you, but he is a deeply flawed man. He’s never been any good at taking responsibility, and well, fatherhood is a big responsibility. That doesn’t mean he does not love you, though. He just...”

Killian sighed, feeling woefully out of his depth. How did one tell a young boy that his father was a selfish coward only concerned with his own comfort and contentment? Caught between wanting to tell Henry the truth and not wishing to hurt him further, Killian turned his eyes to Emma who seemed just as lost and unsure as he did as she continued to offer her comforting touch while her teeth worried her bottom lip. The two of them gazed at one another for a moment and Killian felt his mouth go dry at the prospect of disappointing either of them.

“You know something, Henry,” Killian said. “You and your dad have something in common. His father wasn’t around much when he was young either. He never had anyone to teach him those important lessons of duty, responsibility, and good form.” Henry slowly lifted his head, sniffling as he looked up at Killian with watery eyes. “That doesn’t excuse the bad choices he’s made in his life. I only mention it, because I want you to understand it isn’t you, Henry. Him not coming here today to meet you is about him and his shortcomings, not you. You are brilliant, and you and your mum have a good life together full of people who love and support you. I know it isn’t the same, but believe me when I tell you how lucky you are to have all of that.”

“I know,” Henry mumbled against his sleeves, wiping away the tears that still clung to his face. “Mom’s always said we didn’t need him in our lives, but every time I got a letter--”

“I never should have let that go on for as long as I did, Henry. I’m sorry. I set you up for disappointment and--”

“No!” Henry exclaimed. “I’m glad you wrote them. I never would have gotten to hear all those wonderful stories or learn about all the places my dad has been. I wouldn’t know anything about him at all without them, and he wouldn’t know anything about me either.” Henry cast his gaze back out to sea, quiet reflection washing over him as he struck Killian, not for the first time, as one older and wiser than his years. “I want him to know me,” he said with resolve, “So I’m going to keep writing to him and maybe one day, he’ll be the one who writes back.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, his heart sinking a bit more. “There’s something else you should know, lad.” Henry stared up at him, the brown hue every bit his father’s, and Killian could also feel Emma’s sea glass eyes on him as well. “One of the reasons I tried to convince your father to meet with you today is so he could tell you the truth about the letters. It’s the reason I came when he refused at the last minute, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea when they suddenly stopped.”

“Stopped?” Henry repeated in a troubled tone, until a sense of sad comprehension dawned on him. “I guess you’re tired of writing to me, huh?”

“Not at all,” Killian countered quickly. “The fact is, I’m being transferred to a different ship and won’t be sailing with your father any longer. So, I won’t be there when he receives your letters, I won’t be able to reply back to you. It’s my hope he’ll respond to you on his own, but I knew a smart lad like you would notice the change in writing, so I told him he ought to come clean about it before I move on.”

“When do you--”

“Tomorrow,” Killian answered. “I report first thing after my new ship docks with the morning tide. My transfer is the reason we’re here in the first place.”

“Well…” Henry started, glancing over at his mother briefly before turning pleading eyes back towards Killian. “Couldn’t you still write to me anyway?”

Air rushed from Killian’s lungs. “I would like nothing more, lad.” Flicking his own gaze Swan’s way, he added, “If your mother is agreeable, that is.”

Having been silent all this time, Swan pursed her lips together and considered the matter before answering, “I’ll think it over.”

When she flicked her eyes his way, Killian knew she needed more time to make a decision about whether his interest in Henry was truly genuine, or if he had only been writing because of Neal. He didn’t blame her for not wanting her son’s hopes to be raised again, only for them to be dashed because another man had broken yet another promise.

Dissatisfied with her answer, Henry’s shoulders slumped, but then he looked up at his mother once more and requested, “Could he at least buy me the ice cream dad promised?”

Try as she might, Emma couldn’t quite keep the smile off her face in response to her son’s restored mood. Glancing over at Killian to gauge his reaction, his own dashing smile was the only answer she needed.

“Sure, kid,” she said, standing up and brushing the sand off her jeans, noting the way Killian’s eyes lingered on her curves. “Let’s go.”

Emma hadn’t known what to think of Killian Jones when he’d introduced himself earlier that day in the diner. While she had always suspected those letters hadn’t been from Neal, sounding nothing like the man she’d known for only a few short weeks before he’d run off to sea rather than face the consequences of their recklessness - a detail she had kept from Henry all his life, letting him believe neither of them had known she was pregnant until after he was gone - it had still been a shock to learn this handsome stranger had been corresponding with her son all these years. She’d wanted to be angry with him, and was until he’d shared his reasoning, telling her about his own abandonment and how he hadn’t wanted her son to suffer as he had. The vulnerability he’d been willing to expose in that moment had given her pause and forced her to see him in a fresh light. He hadn’t set out to hurt Henry, he had wanted to protect him, to give him his best chance to one day have a relationship with his father. It wasn’t Killian’s fault that Neal was incapable of rising to the occasion.

Fortunately for Henry, Killian was more than capable of being the man Henry deserved to have in his life, and if that thought didn’t knock Emma for a loop then the rest of the day spent in his presence surely had.

They’d gone for ice cream, where Emma had watched as Killian patiently answered all the questions her son peppered him with, just as eager to know more about the man herself. Where he was from, what growing up in England had been like, what happened to his family, how he had come to make a living at sea were all curiosities thrown his way and with each answer Emma felt the connection between them deepen as too many similarities, too many points of understanding, and too many significant looks were revealed and exchanged over the course of the day.

When the time came that he walked them back to their house, his shore leave quickly coming to an end, Emma wasn’t sure if she was relieved for the reprieve from all the emotional turmoil his entrance into their lives had brought with him, or despondent over the fact he’d be leaving them so soon. It was clear from the way her son dragged his feet that Henry was not looking forward to parting ways with Killian. After years of exchanging letters with one another it should have come as no surprise that an amount of affection and camaraderie already existed between them, yet Emma had been taken aback by how good Killian was with Henry and that his interest was genuine. He truly cared for her son and if she hadn’t already been attracted to the man’s devilishly handsome looks and ridiculously sexy voice, that fact alone would have been enough for her to acknowledge it was definitely the latter response she was experiencing more than the former.

“Thanks for coming to meet me today, Killian,” Henry said when they all arrived at the doorstep.

“The pleasure was all mine, my boy,” Killian replied, accepting the tight hug Henry offered and ruffling his hair affectionately.

“Why don’t you go get ready for bed, kid,” Emma said. “Let me have a minute to talk with Killian before he has to go.”

A surprised grunt reverberated from Killian’s chest when Henry hugged him again, a muffled I’ll miss you whispered into the man’s coat before Henry darted inside, leaving both adults alone on the porch with a sudden awkwardness hanging between them.

The nervous tick Emma had noted throughout the day returned as Killian scratched at his ear, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling endearingly at him.

“I, uh…” he began tentatively. “I want to thank you for allowing me to spend time with him… and you. I had a wonderful time today.”

“Me, too,” she confessed, tucking her hands into her back pockets and taking a step towards him. “And I want you to know that I have no problem with you writing to him, if you want to continue to do so.”

“I do,” he rushed to confirm, a pink hue tinting his cheeks as he dipped his head briefly before looking back up at her beneath those lush eyelashes of his. Taking a step of his own he entered her personal space and inquired, “Perhaps, you wouldn’t mind if I occasionally addressed a letter to you as well?”

His tone was soft but the words held an underlying tension that made the atmosphere thicken around them as he awaited her response.

“I’d like that,” she told him, swaying in closer. “I might even write back.”

Killian hummed, his eyes flicking down towards her mouth when she ran her tongue over her lips, then gazed back up at her and wet his own before mentioning, “You know… this transfer means I’ll be making my way back to Storybrooke more often.”

“Oh?”

“Quite regularly, as a matter of fact.”

“Is that so?” “Aye,” he breathed, both of them clearly fixated on only one thought in that moment. “Do you think you can handle another visit from me in the next few weeks?”

Grabbing him by the lapels of his jacket, Emma pulled his mouth to hers and kissed him with every bit of anticipation she felt over such a prospect. “I think I can handle that,” she whispered against his lips when they both paused to take a much needed breath before diving back in once more.

Breathless and looking thoroughly wrecked, Killian pulled away with a great deal of reluctance when he could no longer put off returning for duty. Taking her hand, he raised it to his lips and brushed a soft kiss along the backs of her knuckles, promising, “Not a day will go by I won’t think of you.”

“Good,” Emma replied with a smile that held a different sort of promise. One they made good on a few weeks later, and for many more years after.

The End

Tagging the Curious Crew:

@kmomof4​ @sals86​ @jennjenn615​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @artistic-writer​ @courtorderedcake​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @heavenlyjoycastle​ @sunshine2632​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @kday426​ @cocohook38​ @unworried-corsair​ @aprilqueen84​ @tiganasummertree​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @wyntereyez​ @ultimiflos​ @superchocovian​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @facesiousbutton82​ @theonceoverthinker​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @lillpon​ @shardminds​ @skystar87​ @teamhook​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @xarandomdreamx​ @therealstartraveller776​ @queen-serena88​ @donteattheappleshook​ @jrob64​ @therooksshiningknight​ @angellifedeath​ @karl0ta​ @melly326​ @nadine200179​ @xsajx​ @demisexualemmaswan​ @lfh1226-linda​ @alexa-fangirl-forever​ @klynn-stormz​ @onceratheart18​ @monosalvatore16​ @eddisfargo​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @ouatpost​ @spaceconveyor​ @natascha-ronin​

[silly-shady]

D: *Speaking to Nabil and Felicity Callebaut* I love me some good femboyish fusions. :3

Felicity Callebaut: A what-boy?... [Let me remind you Felix is old] - Wait, the other half of me doesn't know what a femboy is???

Nabil: Mr. Felix, she means she likes that the fusions we are in are men that look like women. A little odd, but... Thanks, I suppose.

[tessathegamefreak]

Charity Cremebleich's opinion on Cassette?

And Cassette's opinion on Charity Cremebleich?

I know that this isn't possible, but we got a gigantic bed for fusions with no animal qualities, so...

(Also, Dib @dib-thing-wannabe thinks Charity is cool)

(Aw, how nice of Dib!)

Theresa in Charity Cremebleich thinks Cassette is such a precious, nervous thing. She especially has a soft spot for the Dib part of Cassette. Although, with her history with her world's Turbo, she is hesitant about Cassette's other half.

AU Turbo through Cassette sees Charity Cremebleich as an interesting character. He thinks the fusion somehow manages to be both a relaxed and an organized person very well. In truth, AU Turbo is also unsure about Theresa's part in the fusion since she in the Fix-ItFelixJr AU is much bossier and less friendly, but he likes this version of her.

@redscorpiocat @dib-thing-wannabe

[redscorpiocat]

What are Cassidy's hobbies?

Racing for fun

Encouraging friends that everything's ok as long as they have faith in themselves

Chilling with her besties that she calls her "Cool gals"

Being chill about little problems and all

[cassidymayshijinks]

01/07/22

So I talked with my landlord, the AC was supposed to get fixed today but the contractor had trouble getting supplies. There’s a party going out behind the building because it’s now cooler out in the shade than it is in our apartments. People brought beer and ice cream and I got to know a couple of people from the building including (A), a college student with blue hair and a Mothman tattoo, (B) a family with several small children who ran around everyone’s legs and a daughter who asked me about my magic, (C), a middle-aged woman who has worked as a handyman, landscaper, truck driver, plumber, theater hand, nurse, and even vet (briefly). Looking forward to telling Habit about the Mothman tattoo. Conspicuously missing was the old guy who told me not to be loud when I first moved into the building.

The apartment party was a great pre-game to the work party at Rob and Leroy’s. I’m heading there right now, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow!

Cassidy

[nintendoneko64]

So... Here's my third Sugar Rush OC!

This is Miley Mc. Mochabelle!

As you probably guessed, her theme is mocha!

She was drawn by @redscorpiocat, but I gave them her color palette as well as her hairstyle and outfit.

Feel free to draw Miley in your style if you wish to do so! Just mention that she's one of my OCs!

P.S. The patches on the left side of her racer jacket and the colors of her necklace represents her friends Steve S. Burster, Red's Cassidy C. Cream, and Wanetta Warheader!

@tessathegamefreak, @dib-thing-wannabe, @odtherat, @kawaii-sugarii, @andrew-d-sorensen, @caleb13frede, @galacticmayhem101, @genderlessjacky and anyone else. :3