this came out of a conversation with @mryddinwilt about the slight suggestiveness of the selfie emoji in relation to another one and turned into her coming up with a brilliant headcanon about Killian and emojis that became a “write the thing” sooooo here’s the thing!
David liked to think he was a cool dad—a fun dad. Being the same age, at least physically, as your daughter tended to help that. But every now and then, there did prove to be a generational gap, likely due to most of his memories of the modern world coming from the mid-1980s.
He was filing his reports on a quiet afternoon when a glance into Emma’s office showed her ignoring her own paperwork in favor of texting away on her phone. She had a smile on her face, which generally should make a father happy; but knowing who was likely on the other end of those messages—and not being sure of their content, given Emma’s wry smirk as she read and replied—made his protective father senses tingle.
(Also: damn millennials, always on their phones! With their selfies and their sexting and their tweeting!)
Emma barked out a laugh, shook her head, and then finally set the phone down before getting up and heading out toward the restroom. (At least she didn’t bring her phone in there.)
From where she left it, her phone vibrated with another text notification, making an awful loud racket against the metal of her desk. It made David jump and his hand fly to his holstered gun, but once he realized what it was, he relaxed and went back to work. But not a minute later, it happened again.
Well, that was too annoying to leave be, because odds were that whoever was sending the frequent messages would again, especially if it was who he thought it was.
Quietly, he got up and slipped into her office. He picked up her phone to put it on a stack of papers, when it vibrated in his hands as another message rolled in. Curiosity got the best of him as he glanced at the sender; it was Hook, of course. But did he really want to know what they were discussing? Of course he did.
He scrolled to the first missed message and his eyebrows shot up to his hairline:
What the hell did that mean? Was that a euphemism? What kind of strawberry was being licked?
He had a better idea what the next one meant—
—and he didn’t want to hear commentary on anyone’s melons. He nearly dropped the phone on the last one:
Nope. Nope. He definitely knew what that one meant and he knew he’d seen way too much now. He shouldn’t have looked; what was he thinking? But he just kept staring in horror at that eggplant and didn’t even hear the footsteps until Emma was right in front of him.
“Dad? What are you doing with my phone?” she demanded, sounding way too much like a teenage girl for David’s comfort.
“I…it was…I just…”
Emma grabbed the phone from his hand as he stammered and she glanced at the screen. Then, to his surprise, she laughed. “You read these, didn’t you?” she asked in a teasing tone.
“Wish I hadn’t,” he muttered back.”
She giggled. “Not that it’s any of your business what my husband and I discuss, but we weren’t sexting.”
“Could have fooled me,” he scoffed. “I know what those emojis mean.”
“You do, but Killian doesn’t.”
“You really expect me to believe that?” That man was the king of innuendo—there was no way he was ignorant to the meaning of the eggplant emoji.
“Here, look,” she said, unlocking the screen to show David the conversation. “He uses emojis literally; he’s grocery shopping right now.” One of the messages prior to the string of images did mention the store, but…he wasn’t convinced.
“I don’t buy it.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “This one means the strawberries taste good,” she explained, pointing to the first, “and this one means he managed to get two cantaloupes,” she continued.
“And the eggplant?” he asked accusingly.
“It means they’re ripe.” David just stared at her; she didn’t really think she could fool him, did she? “If you don’t believe me, then why don’t you guys come over tonight. Killian’s making eggplant parm.”
“I might just take you up on that.”
A few hours later, at the table in Emma and Killian’s kitchen, David had to admit defeat: that was the best eggplant he’d had in ages.
“I told you,” Emma teased as she took his dish away.
“Yeah, yeah,” he conceded, but it looked like the verbose pirate was indeed ignorant to the suggestive language of emojis; the generation gap was no match for one of over a century. If dinner wasn’t proof enough, what happened next, as Killian was bringing out dessert, certainly was. Hook set the bowl—filled with fruit salad—on the table, and glanced over Emma’s shoulder while she was again texting away. His brow furrowed as he read her screen, and he had to ask the question.
“Swan, why are you talking to Ruby about my peaches?”
hi!!! I want to ask about the streaming (I have holidays rn so I'm not v busy) but I am not sure how to do this that it counts, but I really want to help!!!
hello!! thank you for supporting our boys!!
streaming on melon/genie is most important!
currently we are #95 on melon and almost dropping out BUT THANK THE GODS!!
melon is currently holding an event that gives us free 30 streaming passes to use. HERE is an indepth tutorial to get it, then you can log in melon with that account to use your free passes. melon/genie only counts streaming once every hour so i recommend streaming the title once every hour for max usage. my friend @nakamuto is also handing out free accounts for people willing to stream
for genie, if you’ve bought an nct or sm album in general it will come with a code which you can redeem for 100 streaming passes. (we are doing a bit better on genie thankfully on 40 something when i last checked)
if you need additional help fy!nct has a tutorial here
this twitter account also literally has everything here
for streaming on youtube, here is what you need to do:
- open a incognito tab, search up cherry bomb mv (you can also watch their official live performances as those count), make sure the video is HD, make sure the volume is above 50%, and now watch the entire video without stopping or pausing at all! close the tab, open a new tab and repeat the process
if that is a hassle you can also download these extensions:
I wish you'd write a fic about Serena Campbell having the morning off and spending the time rolling around her house in comfortable woollen socks and a whole bunch of knitwear and drinking her favourite type of tea (and maybe sharing the morning w Bernie but also much earlier in her time line is v good too) and her just generally being happy w good morning vibes, pretty please :)))
With no alarm to herald the start
of the day Serena wakes slowly, drifts back and forth in that delicious liminal
space between awake and asleep, cocooned in her duvet, face buried in soft
pillows. When she finally opens her eyes
properly, blinking against the winter sunlight spilling through the gap between
the curtains, it’s still not really late, far from a lie in by anyone’s
standards, but certainly late for a Wednesday.
She yawns, stretches luxuriously,
and smiles. Midweek mornings off always
feel so illicit, like she’s skipping school, the knowledge that the rest of the
world is hard at work while she doesn’t have to be in for hours yet.
She doesn’t stay in bed much
longer, gets up and tiptoes across the cold floorboards to dig out a pair of
fuzzy socks, wiggling her toes happily when she slips them on. Next is a thick woolly jumper pulled on over
her pyjamas, the sleeves long enough that if she curls her fingers her hands
vanish inside. Much better.
Downstairs she switches on the
kettle and then the radio, smiles when Vaughan Williams pours out. Spoons leaf tea into the warmed pot, leaves
it to steep while the toast grills. Butter
and jam (raspberry, seedless) and a glance at the headlines in the morning
paper, then fresh water in the pot and she relocates. The radio has moved onto Wagner now and it
doesn’t feel like a Nibelung kind of
morning so she exchanges it for a CD of Bach, curls under a blanket in her
armchair with her book and a cup of Darjeeling in the perfect shade of amber,
relishing the empty hours in an empty house.
Since I love world-building and food, I figured a post looking at the food and agricultural products in Tyranny was something that I had to do. I’m listing ingredients and crops here, but could be persuaded to come up with a cuisine and meal post much, much, later.
Because the game takes place mostly in the Tiers, most of this information may be only pertinent to them, if something can be linked back to the North or the rest of the Empire, I’ll make sure to mention it. Another thing to note is that a decent number of the consumable items use art assets from Pillars of Eternity, a very different setting with different influences, and that makes it a little murkier to interpret how it could fit into Tyranny’s setting.
The format will be a list (again) of named edibles found or mentioned in-game, separated into food groups. And thanks to everyone who helped me with this list or tolerated my yammering about it, you know who you are!
NOTE: VERY MUCH A WORK-IN-PROGRESS, I WILL ADD MORE IF I FIND MORE, LIKE MY OTHER LORE POSTS
Plot twist, someone does make a greeting card. Give it to Kurama with one whole melon. Instant friendship.
Kakashi stares down at the cheerfully bright colors of the greeting card in his hand, wondering again how Shisui managed to find something so incredibly tacky yet appropriate. Then again, with Shisui it’s usually better not to ask, so he flips it closed again, ignoring the bright yellow “Sorry I thought you were an enemy and tried to kill you!” written out in big, painfully cheery font, and tries not to fidget with the melon in his other hand too much.
Kurama is waiting for their squad at the gates of Kiri, standing next to Jiraiya with his arms crossed and an entirely skeptical expression on his face. He eyes Kakashi dubiously as they approach, and shifts into the beginning of what could be a fighting stance.
In an attempt to stave off any more bloodshed than is absolutely necessary, Kakashi takes two quick steps to the front, waves a lazy hello with the hand holding the card, and offers a bright, “Yo.”
There are threatening thunderclouds gathering in Kurama’s expression, and that is definitely not a storm Kakashi wants to let break. He shoves the melon into Kurama’s chest, drops the greeting card on top, and takes a prudent step back.
Jiraiya eyes him like he’s certifiably insane and shifts several feet to the right.
There’s absolute silence as Kurama takes the card and flips it open, studying the writing and the four signatures beneath. The he takes a breathe, breathes out slowly through his nose, and hefts the melon in both hands. Another considering pause, and then Kurama stalks forward, raises the fruit, and lunges in a blur of motion.
As Kakashi probably should have expected, the melon crashes down on his skull and explodes in a shower of sticky juice and fruit pulp as he goes reeling back, stars bursting behind his eyes.
“Okay, now your apology is accepted,” Kurama announces, sounding far more cheerful. When Kakashi manages to clear his vision enough to see, the redhead smirks evilly at him, then turns on his heel and saunters back into Kiri, calling, “Hey, shark-face, aren’t you buying me lunch? Move it, I’ve got a sudden craving for ramen.”
Kakashi wipes away the melon juice trickling down his face and tries very hard not to think about what it’s going to mean to spend the next few weeks in close quarters with an Uzumaki holding a grudge.
Damn it, there’s no way Kurama doesn’t have some sort of relation to Kushina. He should have remembered Minato’s attempt to give his wife a fruit basket, and learned from his teacher’s very clear mistake.
Ah, we’ve been waiting for these little ones to meet each other for so long. :D (All the children are aged 5 in here, but keep in mind that the SpikedTaffy trio are a few months older.) Lizzie, Key and CD consider Sugar and Melon their honorary uncles, while Cotton, Berry and Fika feel likewise towards Taffy and Spikey.
-I was allowed to add Spanish to proficient languages after this session.
So for the first game of DnD that I am playing ever, I decided to make my character a sort of strange ‘homebrew’ sub-race of humans. Anyways, as a six and a half-foot tall insane clown monster, Vuuvie (his name) can be intimidating with the great-axe he carries around with him everywhere.
So at one point, the ‘leader’ of the rag-tag group he has landed himself in has assigned him to questioning certain civilians around the entrance of the town for information about an assassination of a local political figure that had taken place about half a day ago. So, he agrees and leaves to see what the heck is going on. Upon approaching the front gate, the following situation ensues:
DM (OOC): “Vuuvie approaches the front gates of the town where there are two armored orc-guardsmen.”
Town Guard #1: *Spots Vuuvie* "HALT! Who goes there?“
Vuuvie: ”BUENOS TARDES, MI AMIGOS! COMO ESTA!?“
DM (Doesn’t know a lick of Spanish): “Uh…”
Vuuvie: “Me llamo, Vuuvie Jaster! -y tu?”
Guard #2: “Um… What kind'a tongues are you speakin’ in?”
Vuuvie: “Psh, oh yeah. I almost forgot that mexico isn’t a thing in this realm. Sucks that you guys don’t have Mexican food then.”
DM (OOC): “The guards unsheathe their swords to you."
Vuuvie: "Que pasa?”
//The remaining players are nearly dying with laughter.//
Guard #1: “State your business, Clown. Lest you meet your fate at the edge of my blade.”
Vuuvie: “Oh yeah! I’m here to question you guys about… about something…”
//The DM is giving me a questionable gaze, by now.//
Vuuvie: “Oh well, I guess that means that I can skip the questions and go straight to 'interrogation by brute force’.”
Me (OOC): “Vuuvie grabs the second guard by the face and slams them into a wall repeatedly until they start giving answers.”
DM (OOC): “-But you haven’t even asked anything yet-” *They see me holding my dice and sigh. “-Roll for strength.”
Me: * rolls 17 + 5 Modifier.
DM (OOC): “You smash the guard into the entrance gate three times. On the third time his head shatters like a melon.”
Me (OOC): “Vuuvie drops the corpse on the ground, and approaches the only remaining guard.”
Guard #1: “W-what do you want from me?”
Vuuvie: “I want answers. Where you eat- Where you sleep- What your shoe-size is! I NEED ANSWERS, DAMN IT!”
//The DM looks mildly annoyed.//
DM (OOC): “… The guard flees the scene; leaving a trail of urine where they once stood.”
Melon Drop’s reference is completed!! Melon Drop is somepony you probably haven’t seen much or at all on this blog. She is a new addition to the roster for the story and I’m very happy to have her on board.
She was originally @asklucapony‘s oc, and I was able to buy her when she was up for adoption.
Melon Drop will hold a very important supporting role and she will be Adelaide’s roommate! (And general helpful guide to life LOL because let’s face it, Fain probably isn’t the best role model when it comes to certain things XD)
Niall (your pov) ~ You and Niall had agreed to keep your child out of the spotlight, and that including keeping your pregnancy private. All the major magazines had been contacting you for a story to the point that it became annoying and infuriating. Though management had pushed you to agree to their requested, Niall had stuck strong and continued denying.
But you did want pictures- to put in the baby book and hang on the walls of your house. So you hired a private photographer, whom Niall made sign legal document to ensure he wouldn’t share the photos he took of you.
On the day of your photo shoot, the tour was still going on, and the boys were still in Florida. The sun was shining and the photographer decided to use it to his advantage. The beach was bare on Monday morning, the only time Niall was available. You wore a dress that Caroline Watson had said really accentuated your pregnancy, and Niall just wore his everyday clothes. It was fairly quick, and only after about 45 minutes, the photographer was done. You and Niall still had another hour before he needed to be at the filming for an interview that would air later that month, so you decided to stay on the beach.
“That cloud looks a bit like a baby,” he said, pointing up at the sky. You squinted up at the clouds and noticed that the cloud, in fact, looked nothing like a baby. You merely shook your head and smirked, replacing your head onto his chest. The sand was surprisingly soft beneath you, and the warm sun felt good on your skin.
“You just have babies on your mind, Ni. It looks nothing like a baby,” you said to him, and he frowned, flicking sand with his toes up at your legs.
Zayn (your pov) ~ Zayn sensed you were nervous, so he leaned across the bed and rubbed your back, making you relax a bit. Zayn had wanted to give his fans a bit of an insight on your pregnancy, despite the problems between you. Another reason he wanted the photo shoot was to hide those issues.
You didn’t really want to publicize your pregnancy, but the article in People magazine would boost Zayn’s career that supported you and your unborn child. Zayn knew you wanted that, and made sure the interviewer kept the questions generalized. The interview was basically questions about how your body was taking the pregnancy, and how you and Zayn felt about having a baby. Of course, most of the answers you gave were lies and the way you hung off each other in the presence of the crew was all an act. You were both extremely careful not to show any of the tension between you.
The photo shoot was simple; some pictures were taken of just you, some of just Zayn, but most were taken of you together. The crew had set up a bed in room with false walls where you would lie down, and sit. It gat intimate sometimes, which made you very self conscious. In one set, you were naked except for skimpy underwear, and Zayn was shirtless. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but it still felt revealing to do in front of all those people when you were pregnant.
“Babe, you feeling alright?” Zayn asked when you were nearing the end. You nodded, and leaned against his chest since there were still people around.
“Exhausted,” you answered. He gave you a sympathetic smile, and told you he would be right back. After a few minuted of watching him talk to the photographer and magazine representer, he came back with a big smile on his face.
“I got it cut short. We just have to go sign a few papers so they can use the pictures. C’mon, get dressed,” he told you, and you leaned up to kiss him for real, for the first time in a few days.
“You’re amazing,” you told him, and kissed his lips again.
Liam (your pov) ~ Liam, with the consent of you and his management, had agreed to an interview about your adoption experience so far. You were skeptical at first, but once you arrived, you lightened up a bit. You had so many legal documents to review regarding the adoption that had to be filed in a few days, but Liam promised it wouldn’t take long.
You sat down on the couch, which had cameras and lights all around it. After multiple years of being with Liam, you were no stranger to interviews. When you had first gotten married and management was pushing for an interview, Liam had taught you a few things about answering the questions. He was quite good at it, too.
The interviewer shook both your hands and sat down in her own chair across from you. She began with introducing herself as soon as the cameras began rolling, and gave a bit of background on your situation while you sat and smiled, before asking the simple question: “How are the two of you?”
Liam answered by telling her about his upcoming solo career and about how the other boys were doing. She then asked a lot of questions about the adoption, which Liam answered most of, except for the ones directed at you. It went on for about an hour and a half, when you then went outside to do a photo shoot.
They gave you a picture frame when you arrived at the pond where the photo shoot would take place. While you were waiting for the photographer to set up, Liam pulled you off to the side and sat with you on a park bench. “Are you doing all right, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, I just want to get home,” you admitted as as you leaned against his chest and pulled your coat tighter around your body.
“Were the questions they asked too much?” He said into the top of your head. They were a little, but you knew if you let him know that that he would feel bad for making you come. You shook your head just as the photographer said he was ready. It was a short photo shoot, with only a few position changes. Then you and Liam went home where you began to make a dent in the large pile of documents.
Harry (your pov) ~ Harry was excited to show everyone how happy he was to become a dad. As you two posed in front of the exterior of the house in LA that you Louis, Niall, and their families were renting by the pool, Louis told you how to pose. He had stuck with the watermelon theme as he had used when he helped you announce your pregnancy to the public via Twitter.
“Just take your damn pants off!” Harry yelled at you and Louis and his wife prepped you for the picture. You looked at him with a humored expression as he smirked playfully at you. Louis sighed and went to talk to Niall so he wouldn’t have to witness anything from you two.
You began to strip so you were only in your sports bra and very short and tight shorts. You felt insecure since most of the boys and their families were around, but Harry ensured you it wasn’t anything they hadn’t seen before because you had worn a bikini around them countless times.
“You done fucking over there?” Louis yelled in your direction.
“Louis!” Niall scolded as he covered his child’s ears, who seemed unfazed by his uncle’s choice of words.
“Shut up,” you whined as you handed Harry the two cantaloupes from the table. Harry began to fumble with the fruit as Louis crouched down to take the picture. He put his phone down and looked at your husband with an overly dramatic look of annoyance.
“Harry, I have better shit to do than watch you drop melons,” he sighed, making Niall laugh behind him. You laughed along and turned to put Harry’s sunglasses on. You then turned forward for Lou to take the picture, which he then texted to you. He quickly ran off to take a swim with his five month old sons and wife.
You posted the picture on Instagram with the simple caption: “harry is due soon, wish him luck! xx”
Louis (your pov) ~ After the interview full of being asked about your pregnancy by four different interviewers, you were exhausted and just wanted to go home. Your back was extremely sore, so while you were waiting for the photographer to set up, you lied down on the grass.
The sun was warm on your face in the park just outside of London. There were only a few senior citizens walking around in their jump suits and walking their tiny rat-dogs this beautiful monday morning. Your eyes were squinted as you watched Louis talking to the photographer a few meters away and ran your hands over your bare 34-week belly. Your back was beginning to feel better the longer you were on the hard ground, but the grass was beginning to tickle your bare back where your shirt rode up, and you were pretty sure you felt something crawling up your arm.
So you sat up, which was the easy part. Then came the standing. Standing was not easy, and it was a process that took at least three minutes. Louis saw you halfway through and hurried over to pull you up. His strong hands wrapped around your forearms and he pulled you in one swift movement to your feet, resulting in you bouncing up and your stomach colliding with his abs, nearly knocking him over. You were thankful that he had been able to take a short four day break off tour when Liam got seriously sick, though you felt bad for his bandmate. Lottie had headed back home for a week, but would be returning a few days after Louis left.
“Ah, there we go,” he said softly as he brushed the grass blades and dirt off your white blouse. You smiled tiredly at him and he responded by brushing your styled hair away from your face. You heard a quiet click and you both turned your head to see the photographer furiously snapping pictures of you. You looked at Louis with your eyebrow raised, saying ‘what’s with this guy?’, and he just chuckled and kissed you, giving the photographer something to take.
Congrats, I guess, to BTS and their Melon roof hits for “Blood Sweat Tears”, but I really, really wish the fandom did not use “#downwithballads” as their hashtags because as someone who loves ballads, it saddens me that many people think ballads are boring/not worthy to listen to and that many ARMYs don’t acknowledge Park Hyo Shin as one of Korea’s top male singers (and it’s clear they were making a jab at him with that hashtag because Park Hyo Shin was no. 1 on MelOn before BTS dropped their comeback album, and everyone knows that PHS mainly sings ballads).
One of the boys: Candy, I just wanted to tell you that after all this time I’ve been meaning to tell you how I truly feel, After everything we’ve been thorugh I just wanted to say I love you.
Candy: Oh (boy of choice) I’m so glad you’ve told me. I’ve spent months trying to put thi the right way and now I know how because I’m not nervous anymore. I.. I…I’m
-john cena theme plays in distance-
louis is as cute as a cat in a cup and bubble pop melon drops and little feeties on tiny lego bricks that shocks your body with a stabbing pain and leaves you crying out in agony and screaming bloody murder. :)