“Hi, I’m hoping you can help me,” she began again, trying a hospital in southern New Hampshire with the same result.
Killian snored on, his head becoming a more familiar weight in her lap as time passed.
“My name is Emma Jones.” Killian rolled over, curling around her leg and trapping her knee with his arm.
Summary: “You live in the apartment next to mine and you’re always blasting music while I’m trying to sleep but you’ve been silent for the last two days, are you alright?”
Emma Swan never minded the music. Not until she broke her ankle and her shift moved to days. Now she just wants to sleep. But Killian Jones doesn’t seem to notice. So when the condo next door goes silent, she’s understandably concerned. When she finds Killian after he got the phone call about his brother he never expected, they’ll have to figure out if everything is as it seems.
Rated: T
Content Warnings: Alcohol poisoning, perceived character death, hospitalization, whump (it’s actually minor for @icecubelotr44‘s fics but whump warning still required!)
I was delighted to be able to paint for my fellow moderator @icecubelotr44 as part of the @captainswanbigbang Little Bang. I did a couple of sketches back in October that accompanied some of her Whumptober one-shots but it was a totally different experience having a full story to work with and getting feedback throughout the creative process.
Tim Finnegan’s Wake is amazing – you should all read it. Go on. Give her some much deserved love!
Notes: Holy crap, what a ride guys. What a ride. The fic has so many hours poured into. A lot of sweat and even more tears. There was a point where I thought I would never finish it and I nearly fell into the abyss. However, I had such a wonderful cheerleader, beta and friend in @aerica13. I’m so glad I met you. You’ve been nothing but a gift. Shoutout to the moderators of @captainswanbigbang, it’s been quite the experience. I would severely remiss if I didn’t give the incredible @shipsxahoy love. Do you see that art? It’s positively breathtaking! It looks just like 80s movie poster! She makes this fic look like a blockbuster! Without further ado, I give you my Jopper-esque Stranger Things AU. Summary: In November 1983, eleven-year old Henry Swan goes missing under mysterious circumstances. His mother Emma willing to do anything to get him back even if it means teaming up with her ex-boyfriend from high school – Chief of Police Killian Jones. They soon discover the truth is stranger than fiction. Rating: T+ (swearing, suspense, adult situations, scifi creepiness and mentions of sexual activity) Word Count: 14,800+ Links: AO3 | Art by Bianca | Fic Soundtrack
The worst week of Emma Swan’s life began like any other – on Monday morning, late to work and looking for her keys.
“Where the fuck are they?”
The worst thing she could imagine at this point was August firing her for being late again.
(It wasn’t the worst. Not by a long shot.
Unimaginable pain was a stone’s throw away because she lived in Storybrooke, Maine where the last time someone disappeared was 1923 and the last murder was in 1961.
But that was about to change.)
“Did you check the couch?” David asked calmly, not looking up from the frying pan where he was fluffing scrambled eggs to perfection.
Normally quiet and sleepy, Storybrooke, Maine has been going through the polar opposite of a crime wave. There hasn’t been even so much as an incident of shoplifting in MONTHS. Until the day an anonymous graffiti artist starts leaving murals and street art all over prominent town buildings. Who’s behind it? Why don’t the townspeople want to press charges if/when the “vandal” is caught? And what does all of this have to do with Sheriff Emma Swan and local bakery owner Killian Jones?
Rating: Mild T (mainly for a little kissin’ and a little swearin’)
Word Count: 15,000 on the nose!
Possible triggers: I’m not really sure I’d consider these triggers, but this fic does contain mentions of past!Millian and past!Gremma (both in a positive light) and past!Swanfire (in a negative light), so if none of those things float your boat, I’d recommend taking a miss on this one.
Tropes: Mutual pining, friends-to-lovers, modern au (no magic), Henry-being-too-smart-and-cute-for-his-own-good, Zelena-being-Zelena, the author makes many jokes (lovingly) at Will Scarlet’s expense.
A/N: It’s hard to believe this day is finally here!! I felt like I ate/slept/breathed this fic for so long and then ended up having to wait the whole month of February to post, lol. Seriously, though, it’s humbling to be the “grand finale” of the CSLB, and I only hope my work lives up to the honor. This month has once again proved the depth and breadth of talent possessed by the writers and artists in the OUAT and CS fandoms. You guys all rock and should be very proud of what you’ve achieved!!
This fic was a labor of love – and it’s the longest thing that I’ve written and completed in forever – so I am extremely excited to share it with you all. I couldn’t have done it without my amazing beta, Hollie aka @the-captains-ayebrows who helped me refine the plot and pacing in so many ways – this story wouldn’t be half of what it is without her input – and my wonderful artist, Bianca i.e. @shipsxahoy who made the beautiful banner at the top of this post and a seriously awesome gifset that you can find HERE. I also want to thank the mods and the entire team at the @captainswanbigbang for running such a wonderful CSLB event (and for putting up with my frequent down-to-the-wire check ins and over-the-top word counts). You ladies have done a wonderful job and I’m so grateful to have been a part of it!! Now, without further ado (too late!!), The Writing’s On The Wall.
In retrospect, Emma thought, I really should have seen this coming.
Life in Storybrooke had been quiet – almost freakishly so – for the last few months. Not that the small, sleepy coastal Maine town she called home was normally a hotbed of criminal activity, but usually there was something going on that required her to flash her badge and threaten the local riffraff with a night in one of the cells at the sheriff’s station.
But not lately. It was mid-February and quite literally nothing arrest-worthy had happened since early December when she’d locked up Will Scarlet for attempting to steal the holiday decorations off the town common.
She knew for a fact that had been the last arrest she’d made, as Scarlet’s motives had been memorable. Apparently, he’d had some half-cocked idea of holding the decorations hostage until the mayor agreed to “ransom” them back for a hefty fee. (Emma had laughed for a solid minute when he’d explained. As if Regina would ever have gone along with that).
For a moment, the pair just looked at each other. She could have sworn she saw a spark of recognition in his eyes, but she probably imagined it. He was here, but he wasn’t.
Please please make sure to check out Michaela’s story, which I had so much fun creating art for! I felt like Emma and Cursed!Killian’s first meeting was a powerful moment.
Summary: Granny’s restaurant is the perfect place for a romantic dinner. The only problem is that Killian doesn’t want to be on this date in the first place. And Emma definitely doesn’t want to be taken off her waitressing shift to be the saviour of this guy who’s definitely been stood up. A Captain Swan Modern AU for the Captain Swan Little Bang 2017.
A/N: I’m so excited to be posting this fic as my first contribution to the Captain Swan Little Bang! Huge thanks to my wonderful beta @distant-rose for her enormous help in cutting up my ridiculously long sentences. @bleebug is also an absolute star and has created some gorgeous artwork for this fic that I’m in love with. Go and reblog from her tumblr post too!
Massive thanks also go to the whole CSLB team for being absolutely lovely and organising this whole event. And finally, thanks to James Arthur for writing the song that vaguely inspired the plot and the title. I’ve had a blast, and I hope everyone enjoys this fic!
I’ll Thank My Lucky Stars
Killian was already in a bad mood by the time he got to the restaurant. The blustery autumn weather they’d been experiencing had recently developed into scattered showers that seemed to always time themselves perfectly with when he was leaving the house, meaning his feet had already been soaked twice today and even the umbrella he was carrying had put minimal effort into protecting his hair.
Sheltering just inside the doorway, he shook the umbrella into the street before closing it and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to counteract the way the rain had flattened it to his head. At least he wasn’t late, he reasoned, turning to face the server’s stand for the first time. Besides, it probably didn’t matter how he looked considering that he hadn’t exactly been enthusiastic about this date in the first place. But of course, Belle had been insistent (“She’s a really lovely person, Killian.”) and he was an idiot who couldn’t say no to his best friend, and that’s how he’d ended up at this particular fancy restaurant on the first date he’d been on in three years, and feeling like he was about to throw up.
“Table for Jones?” he asked, when he realised he’d been loitering in the entrance for an unreasonable amount of time and the server behind the podium seemed to be getting a little irate, twiddling her long, red nails around her dark hair. He found himself being steered towards the window and seated at a little table with a candle – the whole place screaming romantic date in his uncomfortable face. Sighing, he nodded at the server – Ruby, her name badge said – and busied himself with staring at the drinks menu. It was probably unacceptable to order several shots of rum before his date arrived, right? Speaking of which, it was now fifteen minutes past the hour and no sign of said date. Another ten passed before Ruby returned again.
It All Starts With a Dance 