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"I can't decide if that's arrogant or just true." His appeal was sort of undeniable, that mix of classically handsome with just a little bit of rogue in him. Hatter was no proof against the bad boy with a heart of gold trope.

He stumbled slightly as they made the transition from solid dock to rocking ship. Despite being docked and anchored, it was still an unusual sensation, and he took a moment to steady himself, as if that was going to happen any time soon with the amount of liquor in his system. "Well, we can't all be Prince Charming, can we…" He was too drunk to sort out whether Killian knew they were all just stories here and trailed off, distracted by his surroundings. Come to think of it, he didn't think he'd ever set foot on the Jolly Roger before, much less in the captain's cabin.

"Fan-cy," he murmured, sinking onto the nearest sittable object. The floor was literally moving, albeit minutely, but it was making it harder to keep his feet. "I take it back. The villain of the story would never have this kind of hospitality." He gave a bitter chuckle as he accepted the bottle and tipped it toward his lips. In fact, that was exactly the way Regina had lured him in the first time, playing on his desire to give his daughter a better life.

"Oh, thank you. Wait-- why?" He blinked as the edge of the dock receded, a firm grip tethering him to the earth. He'd gotten a little mesmerized staring at the waves. Given the difficulty he was having putting one foot in front of the other, Killian had probably intervened just in time. He'd already forgotten his reasoning for doing so or the question he'd asked him. People didn't look after Hatter. Most of the town wasn't even aware that he existed.

"I'd say you aren't my type, but who are we kidding?" He chuckled, allowing himself to be steered toward the ship. He was past the point of filtering his inner monologue, drunk or not. The drunkenness just stopped him from feeling bad about it. "For the villain of the story, you've got a bit of a hero complex. Really makes you wonder about the person writing them, doesn't it?"

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"So you broke into my house just to see the sights? I admit it's lovely to look at, but it hardly seems worth the jail time." Mockery warred with bitterness for the dominant emotion in his voice. The house was lovely. Huge and lavishly decorated, everything he’d wanted to give to his daughter, just salt in a wound now that she didn't even recognize him. He hated every inch of it except the workshop, and he’d come to resent that as well over time. Nothing he made here would get him what he wanted.

Shiny boots clicked across the wooden floor as he closed the space between them, leaning to pick up the dropped hat. He placed it back in the cabinet and closed the door. "As I said, it only works with magic, and I'm fresh out of that. Everyone is." It was one of the curses of this cursed town. For someone who'd mostly only been burned by magic, Hatter would give a great deal to have a little here. But he’d already given that, and then some. He turned a critical eye on her. He’d observed the residents of Storybrooke for seventy years while they stayed trapped in their happy cycles. He knew who she was. "But you probably think I'm stark ravin' mad, with talk like that. Magic is only for fairy tales, right?"

muse: Jefferson Hatter (OUAT) open to: mutuals and non-mutuals / 21+ / other fairy tale muses, canon divergences, multifandom crossovers, etc. / OCs welcome if you have active threads with mine

There were a rare few people in the realms who knew Hatter’s area of expertise, and even fewer in Storybrooke, what with hardly anyone remembering who they really were. He’d watched with envy for more than twenty years while they got to live in relative happiness; meanwhile, he was cursed to remember both lives with perfect clarity.

So it was a surprise to him when someone bothered to try to steal the hat. Not a hat. There were plenty of those in his workshop, all of them perfectly fine and perfectly useless. But the hat, the one that doubled as a portal. He leaned in the doorway, observing calmly. “No good. It only works with magic.”

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He tipped his head back, laughter spilling out. If it sounded tinged with desperation and slightly mad, well, he supposed it was time he started living up to his namesake in this place. "Aren't you listening? I don't have any magic. No one does. Not even the evil queen herself."

Still, he felt a demonstration was in order, boots clicking on the hardwood floors and then muffled by the plush rug as he crossed to take the offered hat. The house was huge, lavish, and empty as a mausoleum, a mockery of everything he’d tried to earn for his daughter back home, useless now that she wasn't there to enjoy it.

He flung the top hat to the floor with a dramatic flourish, where it spun quite effectively. But that was all it did. No sparks flew, no portal opened up, and the hat came to a benign halt in the center of the rug, bound by gravity and the dreadful laws of physics just like every other hat. "You see? If I had any magic, I wouldn't still be in this shithole of a town."

continued from here {x}

It was an act of desperation to get the hell out of Storybrooke and return to the seas he knew so well. Killian still had all of his memories from before Regina cast her spell, having come to the sleepy town by the means of a magic bean so he could finally get his revenge. But once he realized he was trapped, he began to get creative in his ways to get home and the top of the list was the Hatter.

"Then work your magic, hat man. I want to go home." Stepping back to give the hatter space, Killian motioned with his hand for him to step forward, keeping the hook at his side for now. He hadn't gone far after snatching the hat, merely going to a more quiet corner of the mansion so it was no surprise when he was quickly found. "Come on, mate. I have better places than wherever this is. Make it spin."

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"Oh, thank you. Wait-- why?" He blinked as the edge of the dock receded, a firm grip tethering him to the earth. He'd gotten a little mesmerized staring at the waves. Given the difficulty he was having putting one foot in front of the other, Killian had probably intervened just in time. He'd already forgotten his reasoning for doing so or the question he'd asked him. People didn't look after Hatter. Most of the town wasn't even aware that he existed.

"I'd say you aren't my type, but who are we kidding?" He chuckled, allowing himself to be steered toward the ship. He was past the point of filtering his inner monologue, drunk or not. The drunkenness just stopped him from feeling bad about it. "For the villain of the story, you've got a bit of a hero complex. Really makes you wonder about the person writing them, doesn't it?"

🎩 @heartthrobxhook liked for a starter

"You'd think a former pirate would be a little more tolerant of public drunkenness." Hatter was swaying slightly on the dock, not troubling himself to hide the open bottle in his hand. He must have been tipsy or he wouldn't have been so careless with his words either. It wasn't wise to go reminding people of their past lives, though truthfully he had no idea what Killian Jones remembered, if anything. Perhaps he would discount it as drunken nonsense. It was past time Jefferson started living up to his storybook counterpart as the Mad Hatter, anyway.

But the truth was he didn't feel he had much left to lose. His every attempt to get back his life with Grace had failed. Emma couldn't help, Regina was only interested in using people, and his daughter didn't even recognize him. If that wasn't call for a little drunk and disorderly, he didn't know what was. "As you were." He waved him off and continued, stumbling slightly on the uneven planks. With any luck, he'd fall into the ocean.

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muse: Jefferson Hatter (OUAT) open to: mutuals and non-mutuals / 21+ / other fairy tale muses, canon divergences, multifandom crossovers, etc. / OCs welcome if you have active threads with mine

There were a rare few people in the realms who knew Hatter’s area of expertise, and even fewer in Storybrooke, what with hardly anyone remembering who they really were. He’d watched with envy for more than twenty years while they got to live in relative happiness; meanwhile, he was cursed to remember both lives with perfect clarity.

So it was a surprise to him when someone bothered to try to steal the hat. Not a hat. There were plenty of those in his workshop, all of them perfectly fine and perfectly useless. But the hat, the one that doubled as a portal. He leaned in the doorway, observing calmly. “No good. It only works with magic.”

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Jefferson the Mad Hatter | Charles Blackwood

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Alice in Wonderland (1951) - dir. Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson

If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary-wise; what it is it wouldn’t be, and what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?

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5 Disney Film Meme [x] | Favorite Quotes:

Alice in Wonderland

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5 Disney Film Meme [x] | Favorite Disney Male:

The Mad Hatter, Alice in Wonderland

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Disney Meme → Favourite animated movie (2/2) : Alice in Wonderland (1951)

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Alice in Wonderland (1950)

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Euripides, from “Orestes”, An Oresteia (trans. Anne Carson)

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A very merry unbirthday to you all!! (unless it is your birthday of course) Here’s some more Alice in Wonderland for your dashboard just because I love this movie so much!!

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“Right now I’m having amnesia and déjà vu at the same time. I think I’ve forgotten this before.”

— Steven Wright

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“99% of the head’s thinking activity consists of trying to scare the everliving shit out of itself”

— David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

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“And the heart does not die when one thinks it should, we smile, there is tea and bread on the table.”

— Czeslaw Milosz, from New and Collected Poems