MERRY CHRISTMAS @jennifer-morrison!!!!!!! I was your CS Secret Santa, it was so nice to get to know you!! You have such a sweet pup and it was really fun to get to know someone who loves doing Secret Santa as much as I do.
I hope you like this, there’s bedsharing and making out and I have worried myself into a tizzy over characterization.
There’s no possible good answer to give to Mary Margaret’s question about the temperature when she comes home that afternoon. Oh, Emma’s tried to think of one all day, but really all it boils down to is–
“We forgot to pay the gas bill and they’re closed until Tuesday unless it’s an emergency and yes, I know, I tried to tell them it’s fucking Christmas and December in Maine, but it’s not a blizzard and neither one of us is old and at risk of dying of hypothermia so they basically told me to pay the bill tonight and it’ll get turned on again on Tuesday and ‘get fucked’ was kind of implied in the woman’s tone, but I kind of deserved it because–”
“Emma.” Mary Margaret’s got her ‘teacher voice’ on, which is really intimidating to the ten-year old living in Emma’s brain most days. “Back up, slow down.” She drops her bags on the loveseat near the door and doesn’t take off her peacoat or hat, which is probably the smart thing to do since their apartment is, after all, without heat for the foreseeable future. “When did we forget to pay the gas bill?”
Emma bites her lip and fidgets a little under the responsible stare of Mary Margaret Blanchard, woman of top-buttoned cardigans and color-coded schedules, voted Preferred Designated Driver three years running by their friends, rare rule-breaker, and master of ‘I’m not mad I’m just disappointed’ looks. “Um. September. And October. And last month.”
MERRY CHRISTMAS @curiousthingdarkness !! I know I was a little distant but trust me when I saw that you seem like a wonderful person! I hope you enjoy your gift and have a wonderful Christmas Day!
It was three days to Christmas and Emma finally had all her gifts in order which was no small feat since people had been vicious at most of the stores she went into. One woman had tried snatched a sweater out of her hands which resulted in a tug of war before Emma realized what she was doing and let go. She wouldn’t dream of giving Ruby a stretched out sweater anyways. Ruby was the whole reason she even had people to celebrate Christmas within the first place, if it weren’t for Ruby practically dragging Emma with her to an open call she never would be where she is with some solid friends and a nice new apartment that she and Ruby just signed the lease on a month ago. “Oh!” Emma thought as she passed an ATM, “I should get some money out to tip the super and other people for Christmas.”
She walked into the alcove, grateful to be shielded from the wind and snow that was falling fast from the sky. A few people walked out as she walked in, leaving only her and one other person in the vestibule. He was tall with black hair and when he looked up from his phone she was startled by just how blue his eyes were. She let herself discreetly check him out as she walked up to the machine under the pretense of getting her wallet out of her bag.
Just as she went to put her ATM card into the machine the lights in the vestibule went out and the automated door swung shut. A backup generator must have kicked in as a whirring sound started and the lights kicked back on so at least they weren’t in total darkness during what appeared to be a city-wide blackout. The man went to the door to only found that it had locked, trapping the both of them in the vestibule until the power kicked back on.
“What I’ve been trying, without success, to tell you Swan, is the depths to which I care about you. But every time I go to say the words for the first time, I keep being interrupted.” She was still in his arms, holding her breath, her hands lightly caressing his where they met at her stomach.
“So I’m going to show you instead.”
The sky suddenly erupted with colourful light, sparkles flying everywhere in sudden arrays and shapes, some of the most beautiful he’d ever seen, and he was from a land with magic.
“Fireworks?” she gasped.
“No,” he chuckled, “fairies.”
“Fairy-works then,” she said, her cheeks raised from her smile, awe in her voice. She gasped suddenly, pointing out a shape she particularly liked.
(Requested by Kim, but I wanted to make a fanart for her fic “Interrupted” for a while now ♥)
A CS Halloweek monstrosity that’s actually too long to post all on Tumblr, it doesn’t let me, I’m so sorry/you’re welcome..
He doesn’t smell familiar, which matches the British accent; it takes a gust of wind for her to realize it, but she breathes deeply and tries to pick out his scent. The surface scent is almost like home, the smells of an old city, but this one has earthy undertones and… salt? Sea salt. And then there’s his unique scent, the wolfscent that’s different for every pack but still makes her think of fur and fangs and how it feels to sing with her packmates.
“You got permission to be here?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest and hoping the wind doesn’t change. Her body likes his scent, likes how it compliments her own so well – this is a city wolf, not some bigshot from the ‘burbs who thinks he’s hot shit – and she doesn’t know how she’d respond if it turned out his body liked hers too.
He grins, slow and a little bit dangerous. “Your pack leaders are aware of my presence, yes.”
“Good,” she says, “because I’ve got places to be and I don’t have time to get wrapped up in bureaucratic nonsense because some London wolf wants to slum it.”
Once Emma discovered she was having visions of future crimes she knew she had to do something about it. The only person she could trust with her secret was her partner, Killian Jones. The two of them set out to solve the crimes from her visions. When one of the crimes she sees is Killian’s death, they have to work harder than ever to solve it.
It All Starts With a Dance 