Flinthamilton and 14 and/or 16? ((As long as you keep reblogging these prompt thingies, I'm gonna keep sending asks))
14; a shrunken sweater and 16; rainy day cuddles
“That’s my jumper.”
Thomas hummed, turning the page of his book and not bothering to look up.
“Thomas. That’s my jumper, why are you wearing it?” James tugged on the collar.
“It shrank in the wash, in stretching it out;” he turned another page, as though it was a normal thing to happen.
James sat down and looked at the man he loved sat on the sofa beside him. It was his favourite jumper, dark blue with a little ship on the front. He got it on their first proper date. To see Thomas in it wasn’t that uncommon, but to see him wearing it with the arms halfway to his elbows and the hem reaching to just below his belly button… that was more unusual.
“Stop staring and come here;” Thomas curled an arm around him and drew James in close, letting him move himself into the space Thomas’ body formed.
Thomas began reading aloud as the rain outside grew louder. He ran his fingers through James’ hair as James traced the little square rigged ship on Thomas’ chest.
It was one of the small things James loved about their relationship, how it was simple to sit back and just listen. He could listen to Thomas read all day and just relax into the feeling of bliss. It made him giddy sometimes. He and Thomas would sit for hours resting on one another and he would never tire of it.
During her distinguished naval career, the 12-gun Providence sank or captured 40 British enemy ships. She was a square-topsail-gaff-rigged sloop, the first ship commissioned into the Continental Navy and the first Command of John Paul Jones.
“Now this,” Steve says, curling his arm under the baby’s head and shoulders, “this is a Barquentine.” He holds up an intricate model of a ship, complete with finely woven sails and collapsible masts.
It’s obviously not designed for sea-faring, or – as the case may be – bath-faring, ideally destined to sit on an eighty year old’s musty office shelf as they talk about the good ol’ days.
Bath time, it seems, is serious business in the McGarrett-Rollins household.
Steve dips his head low, pressing his nose to Sophie’s cheek so that he can gaze at the ship from her angle. “It’s important to establish a good understanding of different ship-names from an early age.”
The baby gurgles, tiny chubby fingers reaching forward with want. Steve takes it as a win.
“The Barquentine,” he continues, “can be easily identified by its size, speed, and the formation of its sails. See the way all three masts are square-rigged?”
Prompt: I found a cute little message in a bottle you
wrote when you were little and decided to come find you and share it with you
but god I didn’t expect you to be so hot wth AU
Thanks to @nothingimpossibleonlyimprobable for continuously poking, prodding, threatening, bribing, and otherwise pushing me to write and post this. I really wouldn’t have kept going without it.
ps - “cute” - I’m not entirely sure what that word means. The definition is something like “heartbreaking”, right? (not nearly as heartbreaking as Never Say Goodbye, I promise.) tagging: @lenfaz, @shady-swan-jones, @woofiefangirl
Also on AO3and FFN (the formatting is way better on AO3)
Chapter 1: Adrift
October 23, 1992
Dear Prince Charming,
Well, you’ll probably be Captain Hook anyway, knowing my
luck. My name is Emma Swan, it’s my birthday today, and I’m in 4th grade.
My teacher says we have to write these letters so we can throw them in
the Charles River and see how far they go once they make it to the ocean.
I don’t think anyone is going to find mine. Nothing cool like that
ever happens to me, so it doesn’t really matter what I write.
I’m living with the KlockKluczk
“Klutch-cow-skies” this month. They suck. I miss living with Mrs.
Welch. Her husband wasn’t around that much, and I guess it’s cuz he liked
another lady better. But he was better than Mr. Klocz… he wants me to
call him “daddy”, but I don’t have one of those. Or a mom.
Anyway, we’re supposed to ask a question so that you have
something to answer when you find this. In the ocean. Which is
huge. So it’s never gonna happen. Caroline’s will probably get
found. Or Mikey’s. The cool stuff always happens to them. They
each have a mom and a dad and Christmas presents and brand new clothes that no
one else has worn. I bet they never had to pack in a trash bag.
So my question is this. If you’re reading this, and
you are a Prince Charming… or even if you’re Captain Hook, can you come save me
or kidnap me or something? Come take me away, I don’t care where. I
just want someone to adopt… never mind, this was stupid anyway.
Emma Swan 10 Guest St Home for Little Wanderers Boston, MA
The Ottoman navy of the 16th century was experimenting with square rigging creating a hybrid galley and sailing ship. Then naval innovation suddenly stopped in the 17th century. The galley illustrated at the top is Venetian from the same period, not too different from the ones used at Lepanto. Source: Topkapi Palace Museum