#knowledgeofbooks

He shook his head, a strange fogginess and dizziness making him feel disoriented. But shaking his head was a very bad idea, it only made his vision swim which then had his heart racing in fear. And as much as he hated himself for that automatic reaction, the feeling beneath his hands not of dirt, grass, or even stone scared him far more.

Instead he found himself kneeling on all fours, staring at some kind of black, rough stone of some kind. It was unlike any stone he’d ever seen before much less felt. Worse, he had no idea how he’d gotten there and why he was in the position he was in.

Then his heart nearly stopped when he didn’t hear his son calling for him either in concern or looking for him. And looking around he didn’t see him either. He saw nothing in fact except for what he guessed was road that stretched for miles and forest surrounding him. No houses or signs for miles that could tell him where he was or act as a landmark.

He didn’t even notice the pain in his ankle or in his shoulder where Hook had shot him on the other side of the town line. Nor did he notice what he would consider to be "strange clothes" that he was wearing. All he knew was he didn't know where he was and a glance around his immediate surroundings told him that Bae wasn't close by either. He stood shakily to his feet and turned in every direction trying to spot a head of dark, curly hair to no avail.

Storybrooke Maine wasn’t exactly the ideal town to live in, yet when he contemplated leaving or setting up shop elsewhere, he found that he couldn’t quite bring himself to do a thing about it. He supposed that as far as places went, there were worse. He couldn’t imagine life in a bigger city and was sure that it would only drive him to distraction. Truth was, he quite liked the way the residents of Storybrooke behaved around him. A little fearful and wary, yet still patrons to his shop.

He liked his peace. Solitude was safer, calmer, and he was always most comfortable in his own company rather than anyone else’s. Yet, he still didn’t take his burger to go at Granny’s Diner, sitting at a specific booth every single time. A man of routine in many ways, methodical in how he worked and precise in the choices he made. He liked that booth because it was close enough to get a glimpse of the kitchens to be sure Granny did nothing untoward to his food. He sat facing the door to survey the people that came in and out, and chose to sit close enough to the bathroom to keep an eye on things there too, whilst also giving enough distance to avoid any unpleasantries. 

Mercifully even when the diner ran busy as it did today he managed to find himself sat in his booth, in his particular spot. The place was far busier than he was used to though and yet, he still didn’t order it to go. Something about routine, he supposed. It did mean that the only seat that was left empty in the whole place was the one opposite him. 

He never, not even for a second, expected that someone would approach his table or ask about the seat opposite him. After all, nobody liked him in town save for a small minority, so why would anyone ever dream of asking?

Edward had always had a weakness for books. A curse of his upbringing, really, where he had been allowed free rein in the ship’s library for the first eight years of his life. So his intentions for visiting the library ended up being pushed to the side momentarily whilst he idly browsed the stacks, marvelling at the odd variety of books in this modern world. 

the be honest meme | Accepting | @knowledgeofbooks

3. What current rp trend do you hate?

Honestly? All of them. 

Now I want to stress that this is my personal opinion and I’m totally okay with people following trends if they like them etc etc - each to their own and all that.

But honestly? I can never get behind anything that isn’t user-friendly and accessible. So all those small as fuck icons (often with psds that wash out features/details), hard to navigate themes, tiny as fuck text… I hate them, I really do. It honestly puts me off interacting with blogs because if I can’t read a reply or navigate your blog? Sorry, but that’s not going to work with me. It’s why I only ever use regular text for my rp replies and why it’s in my rules that I ask people don’t go smaller than small text (aka this size) when replying to me. 

I also don’t really get this dash-only, google-doc trend that’s come up lately ??? I mean I can see why people might find it easier to set up their blogs like that but I personally do not get it at all

That was until he helped get Emma’s son back from Peter Pan and what came with that was an unlikely friendship with the bookworm he nearly killed on two occasions. She had a heart of gold and saw the best in everyone, including Killian when he didn’t see it in himself. She gave everyone a second chance including the man responsible for taking Milah from him. His love for Belle only grew when she banished him from Storybrooke forever, which ultimately brought the two closer. The love he felt for her grew rapidly and he was scared to love her, scared to lose her to someone again, scared that he wouldn’t be able to protect her if the Dark One somehow found his way back. 

Killian laughed at that with a smirk, shaking his head as he tried to find a smart comeback. “Sorry, love, but I think you’re mistaken about that.” Killian closed the gap between them without a second thought, his eyes diverting to her lips before looking back in those beautiful eyes of hers. He found himself hesitating as he spoke but soon put himself together to hide how right Belle was. “What I feel for you is nothing beyond a platonic relationship. My apologies if you were wanting something more.” Before he changed his ways he would have offered her a nightcap right then and there, but Killian was an honorable man now and would never treat a woman, especially Belle, with such disrespect. “What makes you think there’s more to this than mere friendship?” 

 He should have known even back then that Belle hadn’t just gone back home, he should have known that she hadn’t ended her own life. He should have searched for her with his magic more. So many things he should have done, but didn’t and because of that his love had suffered. But not any longer. He was going to give her the life she deserved from the very beginning, starting now. Step one was to get some actual food in her stomach now that she was in nicer and warmer clothes rather than that flimsy hospital gown. After the food he’d show her how to work the bath and show her to a room she could use.

 “I’m sure you’re hungry, Belle. What would you like?” he said softly.

 He couldn’t keep himself from staring at her either, a part of him still unable to believe she was really there in front of him. After so long thinking that she was dead, it was hard to grasp what his own eyes were telling him. It didn’t help either that before the curse was cast, his power had gone haywire in a way while she was gone. He had often seen illusions of her in the castle or walking back in from the doors. Even in his cell he had seen illusions of her in the cell with him or coming down the tunnel.

 He still had half a mind to go after Regina for what she’d done to her, for what she had planned. He knew perfectly well that the woman had only kept her alive to use against him when she felt she should. The only thing keeping him from it was ensuring that Belle was comfortable and wouldn’t come to any harm. Now that he finally had her back, safe and sound, no way would he be leaving her to the mercy of the town.