Actually I had a favor to ask. I know we’ve just met and all but I really need this and I have been stuck for a while and now…” Killian started rambling and he didn’t see her shifting away from him.
“You’re not gonna propose to me… are you?” Emma fixed him with a wary look.
“Ohh… no no… I mean, see the thing is, the way you were describing places and people around… it gave me a fresh outlook that I had been seriously lacking for quite some time. I wanted to ask whether I could accompany you around.
Summary: When word of Robert Siegel’s departure from NPR’s “All Things Considered” goes public, Emma gets the chance to compete for her dream job. All that stands in her way are nine fellow journalists – one of them being the charismatic yet cocky Killian Jones. When she ends up paired with Killian on the first story, things get more complicated as she tries to balance fighting for her long-time aspiration and her budding relationship with this fascinating fellow reporter.
This project was a bunch of fun! I loved the story so much, and making the gifset was a lot of fun creatively. I did my best to capture the essence of such a completely different CS AU. I adored reading Jordy’s fantastic story! I also got to work with lilioproductions, who also made a fantastic piece of art! It was a great experience. They are both wonderful and helpful, and I enjoyed my time working on this art immensely! Please go read the full story, it’s truly fantastic!
The problem with living in a world of magic, he would argue, is that the lines between fact, fiction and fairy tale blur.
They blur and blend together until hearsay becomes rumour, rumour becomes bedtime story, story becomes legend, and legend spreads through every village, right up to the point where Killian is told to never visit the lake on the third full moon of Spring.
To him, his mother, his town and his world, the facts are simple – it is dangerous, the swans cannot be trusted, the swans will lure men into the depths, down beneath dark, black waters until they come out the other side.
(Well, the ‘Otherside’.)
The facts are simple: beware the bathing swans.
Happy Birthday my gorgeous, prickly, runaway disney princess! 🍓🍓
Not in that way. Well, sometimes, but right now, it was the actual, dusty, covered-in-dirt way. A fine film of grit and sweat covered his entire upper body, making his normally tanned skin look even darker and getting caught in his chest hair. His fringe hung down over his forehead and his bright blue eyes sparkled even more against the dust on his skin. Even his pale legs were coated in dirt beneath the borrowed shorts that hung low on his hips.
Who knew that helping her dad build a shed involved so much dirt and so little clothing?
It should have been gross. She should have found it absolutely disgusting and not agreed to touch him until he’d taken a good, long shower. But instead, she wanted nothing more than to follow him in.
“Come on; let’s get you cleaned up,” she murmured, voice low, as she took him by the hand and led him upstairs. He quirked an eyebrow as he followed, a smirk forming on his lips, but the sag in his shoulders and stiff way he moved told her he was too worn out to protest.
In the bathroom, she dropped his hand to start the shower and let the water heat up as he undid the buckle and straps of his brace. She had to stifle a giggle at the lighter patches of skin where the dirt hadn’t been able to get under the leather—which made her wonder if the same applied to the waistband of the shorts.
He’d started to fiddle with the button but she grabbed his hand to stop him. “Let me.” She could feel the heat coming off his warm chest as she undid the fly—or was that just her own arousal? Did it matter? With his shorts hanging open, she tucked her thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs and slid both down, revealing the clean, pale skin of his hips and the last untouched bit of hair that trailed into thick thatch around his manhood.
Steam was starting to fill the room, and she wasn’t entirely convinced that it was the shower alone making it and not the constant fire between them; the hooded gaze staring at her under those thick lashes made her seriously wonder if it was the latter. She had to turn away or they wouldn’t even make it into the water.
As quick as she could, she stripped her clothes, too, and pulled back the curtain, releasing even more tendrils of steam. Then she grabbed a couple washcloths and his hand and pulled him in.
The instant the hot water hit Killian’s shoulders, he practically melted, releasing an almost indecent sigh as he slumped forward and the rivulets began to run through his sweat-matted hair and down his face. Where the water ran, dirt started to slide off his skin, streaking down the muscles of his arms and chest—but that alone wasn’t enough to clean him.
It All Starts With a Dance 