Summary: Emma Swan despises the pink christmas tree currently living in her
apartment. It’s nothing short of an abomination. But when Emma decides
to replace it with a freshly chopped tree of her own, Her bug gets stuck
in a storm, and she’d forced to call the last person she ever wanted to
see again. The man that broke her heart. Also on AO3.
Rating: Mature (there’s smut)
A/N: Imagine signing up for the CSSecretSanta and waiting patiently for a
name to be assigned you, and when it finally come you’re just like crap.
Not because you’ve been assigned a person you don’t care for, but
you’ve been given someone who is just leaps and bounds above the cut in
fiction writing. Someone whose work everyone in the fandom loves an
adores. And then you realize that you have to write a fic for them. Ya,
no pressure there.
So with that said, this is my CSSS gift
for the lovely @alexandralyman. (Surprise!) She asked for angst and I hope I’ve
delivered. There’s a bit of humor tossed in too. I wasn’t able to fit in
forced bed sharing like you’d mention, but there is force cohabitation
and definite bed sharing. I hope you like it Alex, and Merry Christmas!
I
was mostly joking when I told people that this was going to be 10K, but
apparently I have no self-control and it just kept growing and growing.
(P.S. If you’ve never seen Sandra Lee’s Kawanzaa cake, you might want to check it out on youtube before reading this fic!)
Another A/N: I also want to thank @best-left-hook-jones first and foremost for kindly helping me polish this bad boy over. I had this vague idea of Emma hating on MM’s princess themed tree that was inspired by a conversation we had on different types of Christmas trees. There were pink ones, white ones, upside down ones. There are even ones that look like dresses on mannequins. Then after talking to Alex, everything seemed to fall into place. 10K later, Best-left saved this fic from being tossed in the garbage.
I’d also like to thank @optomisticgirl and @distant-rose for helping me brainstorm. I’ve never been to a tree farm or to a tree chopping so I had no clue what I was talking about. Boston isn’t exactly the prime spot for me to have set this story, as there aren’t any actually forests with evergreen trees near by, but if A&E can throw logic out the window, so can I!
Have a Merry Christmas everyone (or whatever holiday you celebrate!)
Word Count: 10K+
Dreaming of a Pink Christmas
Emma lay in bed, waiting until the she heard the roaring of David’s engine fading down the street. As much as she loved her roommate, and even her roommate’s boyfriend, there was only so much of the sickeningly sweet couple she could take. On a normal day, Mary Margaret was someone who Emma felt completely comfortable around, but the holidays brought out the monstrously sappy side in her best friend, and with it an overly motherly quality.
Emma, I have this friend who would be perfect for you.
Emma, I can’t just let you spend the holidays alone.
Emma, there’s somebody out there for you. I just know it!
So when David invited Mary Margaret to come home with him to meet his mother, and Mary Margaret systematically invited Emma to tag along, Emma quickly came up with an excuse to remain in Boston. Family had never really been her thing – not that she’d ever had enough experience with them to really know. Her knowledge base came from watching her friends. The sentimentality of missing them in complete conflict with the reality of being trapped in a house for a week, tense dinners, arguing. None of it was her.
No. Instead she told Mary Margaret that she’d picked up some extra shifts at the stations so that a few of her colleagues could spend time with their families. Technically speaking, she’d offered, but her captain had told her that she had enough man power. Still, Emma had insisted on them leaving her on the oncall list if something came up.
And that’s how Emma Swan found herself hiding out in her room Christmas Eve morning like a coward. Once she was sure that not only were they gone, but also far enough out of town to not pop back in for something forgotten, she forced herself out of bed.
A/N: merry christmas @cocohook38! decided to also write you a little fic as well for your present! found this list of mermaid AUs and the second to the last one jumped out at me and i just HAD TO WRITE THE THING. like i said on the manip, i’m super glad you share my love for mermaid!CS/mermaid AUs 🙂 you’ve been so fun to santa for, and i hope you had an absolutely wonderful day today!
SUMMARY: Killian Jones truly just wanted to live a normal life. Go to class, come home, finish his education, and hide the fact that he is, in fact, a merman. He was into his final year of school and so far, nobody had caught on to his charade; but all good things must come to an end sometime and truly, it was his own fault it happened.
Based on the prompt: “I know it’s late and I don’t know you but I hear you can talk to fish and I’m worried my goldfish is depressed”
Killian Jones truly just wanted to live a normal life.
Go to class, come home, finish his education, and hide the fact that he is, in fact, a merman.
It was a simple request which was granted by the God’s of the sea, allowing him to walk among the human race (with the help of the enchanted bracelet around his wrist). There was a simple catch, however; if his feet touched the ocean, then it was back to growing a tail and waiting until the effects of the water wore off.
He was into his final year of school and so far, nobody had caught on to his charade.
But all good things must come to an end sometime and truly, it was his own fault it happened.
For the 2018 CS Little Bang! Word count ~13,400;Also on AO3
Running away to join the circus is like – the biggest cliche ever, but it’s the only available solution to Emma Swan’s very immediate problem. Running from the cops and with a freshly broken heart, Emma just needs shelter, a job and a ride out of town. She never expected to stumble into a world of real magic complete with witches, werewolves and a trio of shape-shifting brothers. Beast-taming isn’t so hard when the “beasts” are really humans in disguise. Taming were-panther Killian Jones might just be another matter all together. But maybe a lost girl can find a home among the “circus freaks”.
Rating/Warnings: T for swearing, sexual innuendo, brief non-graphic description of character/animal injury
Other pairings: Jewel Queen (Liam/Regina) and slight mentions of Ruby/Mulan
Many (MANY!!!) thanks to
the wonderful people I worked with on this project: my beta @blackwidownat2814 who was so encouraging when I wanted to throw my laptop out the window, and artist @amorecolorfulmoniker who made such beautiful, beautiful pictures for the story! {artwork link coming soon} You have both been a pleasure and a delight.
“Have you actually attended one of our performances, Miss…?”
“Swan. Emma Swan. And no.”
“Miss Swan. This Circus is unique. It’s a safe haven for individuals with unique abilities.”
“You mean freaks and weirdos?”
The Ringmaster scowled. “Not quite. More accurately, our performers are not exactly of this world. Sometimes they come here knowing what they are, sometimes the talent is latent, and yet this place draws them like a beacon.”
Emma held up a hand to stop the monologue. She’d heard people talking in town about this amazing circus where the magic almost seemed real, but she didn’t need a sales pitch. She needed a place to hide.
Summary: During her weekly sessions, Emma and Archie begin to examine her relationship with Killian in the hope that she will be able to break her walls down once and for all, so they can chase their happily ever after together.
A/N: I wrote this as “deleted scenes” for Season 6A as what I wish we could have seen. So long as you watched S6 entirely, the only spoiler you risk by reading this is for Netflix’s “A Christmas Prince”.
This is the first story I have written for OUAT and it is the first piece I am putting out into the universe. It is my contribution to this year’s Captian Swan Little Bang and I wanted to thank all the moderators for creating this so I was able to get out of my comfort zone and finally put an idea down on paper.
A shout out to my beta reader @shippingtheswann who kindly returned the favour following the Big Bang last year and read my story over, making sure it all made sense and came out exactly how I wanted it (even though I changed my mind a couple of times!)
I had the pleasure of collaborating with @gingerchangeling who has drawn a fabulous piece of artwork to go with my story. Apart from actually finishing, I was most excited about getting to work with someone so creative and I LOVED what she has come up with!
Anyway, read on and I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Emma knew that today was the day. She had been holding back in every session with Archie so far, never going as far as talking about her relationship with Killian. For some reason, it just never felt like the right time to, even though they had been dancing around it for the last couple of sessions. But, she knew that today was the day Archie was just going to come out and ask her.
“So Emma, how’s it all going, living with Killian? Are you two settling in? Is Henry adapting well to the changes happening around him?” Archie wasted no time, zoning in on the one thing she had been avoiding.
“Good, I think. The boys have had their ups and downs and there certainly was an adjustment period at first. They seem to be enjoying each other’s company now though. Henry has been showing Killian how to play his XBOX and Killian has been taking him on the Jolly, teaching him about sailing and getting him to help with repairs around the ship,” Emma answered honestly. She really did love talking about her boys.
“I’m glad to hear they are getting along so well and that would certainly be a weight off your shoulders,” Archie commented, with a small smile on his face.
“It was something I worried about, especially with Henry. He’s lost a lot of people he’s cared about and I didn’t want him to get too attached to someone who didn’t intend on sticking around,” Emma said. She looked over at Archie and realised her mistake too late.
“So what has made you confident in Killian’s ability to, as you put it, stick around? What helped you feel confident enough that you would ask him to move in with you both?”
Emma sighed. She thought she was being careful enough, not directly addressing her and Killian, speaking only of Killian’s growing relationship with Henry. She had wanted to avoid discussing her and Killian, at least for a little while longer. She shuffled nervously in her seat, avoiding eye contact with Archie all together.
“You haven’t been mentioning Killian in our sessions Emma. Why is that? Has something changed between the two of you?” Archie pressed on. Emma realised she wasn’t going to get out of it this time. Archie never usually took the lead in the sessions, always allowing Emma the opportunity to speak about whatever she needed. But he must have realised he wasn’t going to get anything out of her when it came to her relationship with Killian. She took a deep breath, hoping that opening up with Archie would help her start to piece some things together.
“I think Killian wants to propose.”
There was a long pause. Archie just looked at her, calmly, with an expectant gaze on his face. Of all the times for the damn cricket not to comment, he chose now as his moment.
“He talks a lot about forever. You know, “to the ends of the world and time” sort of thing. He has these dreams, of starting a family and making something of himself here. He is always so careful though, he makes sure he stops before he gives all the details. He knows those sort of things make me nervous and he knows I have a habit of running when I’m backed up against a wall. So lately, he’s been sort of quiet about those things but I do still notice that when the future is brought up, there is a twinkle in his eyes,” Emma rushed out, wanting to get it all out in the open, finally.
“So future talk scares you? It isn’t something that you are ready to face with Killian?” Archie asked, leaning forward in his chair.
“Yes. No. I don’t know. How does anyone know when they are ready to take the next step with someone? I feel like there should be some kind of feeling, a sign or something, that points you towards what you should do next.” Emma stood up abruptly and started pacing around the chair.
“Have you spoken with your parents about this? They are our towns embodiment of “true love” and never giving up on each other. They might have some untapped wisdom, maybe they know something to look for?” Archie offered. After he said it, Emma realised she had cringed a little.
“Ah, so maybe not the right path to go down for you.”
“It’s not that I don’t think they would have any advice or years of wisdom they could share with me. It’s just that their story is different from mine and Killian’s. They were fated, destined to be together. Their love, while not something that sounds like an easy journey, came easy to them. What Killian and I share is very different. He is from a completely different time, realm even. It’s only by curses and Neverland charms that we have even met and been able to fall in love. We weren’t destined to be together, we have had to work hard, overcome a lot of different things to find this, this new beginning for the both of us,” Emma lamented, “I love my parents, but in this instance, I don’t think their story will help me with my current predicament.”
Emma flopped back down on the couch, feeling guilty about what she had said about her parents but also very relieved. She had thought time and time again about asking her mom or dad about this, but it wasn’t until she let her feelings come to the surface that she realised why she didn’t want to.
Archie stood up and sat next to Emma. He grabbed her hands and gently held them in his. He smiled at her.
“Emma, you don’t need to feel guilty for what you have just said. You were honest, with me and yourself, which is something to be proud of. Your opinions are your own and if you don’t think your parents are the ideal people to talk to about this, then that is perfectly fine.”
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 all right?”
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 my fics but I don’t think I can post a fic without a whump warning)
Art credit/link: Guys! Take a look at the aesthetic above that @katealexandra26 made for this fic! You can find it HEREon her blog. And be sure to check out the illustration that @ladyciaramiggles painted for me further down in the fic. You can find that work HEREon her blog!
Beta reader:A huge thank you to the spectacular @spartanguard who stepped in to help beta read!
A/N: This was a prompt that I found at a far too late time of night and
promptly (pun intended) dropped it in @gusenitsaa’s inbox for her to find.
She ran with it, probably while cursing me out the entire time (it
*was* three am) and came up with a ficlet which you can find on FFN (Spinning Yarns Ch 102) and on Tumblr. With her permission, I came back to it and fleshed it out into this monster.
Written as part of the 2017 Captain Swan Big Bang Challenge. You can catch up with all the other fics that are complete by
following @captainswanbigbang and/or subscribing to the Group Collection on AO3 and/or the C2 on FFN. This is a complete one-shot as a part of the Little Bang 2018 challenge. And yes, there is a happy ending after all this… just so you know.
So you
say you fell in love And
you’re gonna get married Raise
yourself a family How
simple life can be…
Emma groaned, resisting the urge to bang her head against the
headboard as the opening lyrics to another Dropkick Murphys’ song blared
through her condo.
At three thirty in the morning.
Jones, I’m going to kill you, she thought loudly at the wall, too tired to contemplate
shouting. Again. For the third time this week.
It was Wednesday.
She got it. She did. Jones was a bartender
and had the advantage of an end unit – he only had her to annoy with his late
nights. For the past two years since he’d moved in, it hadn’t been an
issue. Emma worked nearly the same hours as he did. Bail bonds
didn’t exactly conform to the normal nine-to-five hours, after all.
Hell, they’d met over an out-of-order washing machine at four in
the morning, both fresh off shifts and nowhere near ready for sleep.
Then last week happened. Emma had chased a skip
through Boston Common and ended up sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs to
the T station just after midnight, her foot facing the wrong way and the barrel
of a gun aimed between her eyes. It was only the convenient timing of a
train pulling into the station that saved her life and her reward was six weeks
to three months of sitting behind a desk answering phone calls.
Emma wasn’t sure what was going to drive her to drink first –
the endless ringing of the phone in the office or her neighbor’s incessant need
to unwind from a night behind the bar with loud punk rock.
At least she liked the punk rock. She’d been to
Jones’s bar often enough, a run-down attempt at a honky tonk in the middle of
downtown Boston. The drinks were good and the likelihood that she’d run
into one of her colleagues was small. And the Jones brothers were easy to
look at, not that she’d admit that aloud, and there was just something about
them – about Killian – that kept her going back to the little hole in the wall.
But, oh God, the country music.
Emma didn’t know how he did it every shift.
Resigned to not sleeping in her bed if she wanted to get up with
the alarm at seven, Emma grabbed her pillow and cell phone and limped down the
stairs, ignoring the mandatory crutches. She could still hear the
echoes of the album Blackout as she settled down on the lumpy couch
cushions, but at least it was more white noise than Irish punk at this
distance.
Summary: Chefs Emma Swan and Killian Jones both have their reasons to compete in the Culinary Championships for a large cash prize. But when they are paired as a team, they must learn to work together or it could all go up in flames. Part of the Captain Swan Little Bang 2018!
A/N: Here is mycontribution to the @captainswanbigbang ‘s little bang! Thank you so much to all the mods for organizing it and for all your hard work.I was able to combine two of my greatest loves in this story – Captain Swan and culinary competitions. I could not have done it without the incredible feedback of my beta reader, @aloha-4-ever , who offered suggestions, kept me on track, and helped me change my idea when the first one turned the wrong direction. And of course this story is all the better with the incredible artistic work of @cocohook38 who made the incredible illustration of Emma and Killian as chefs. She took my idea of them in this story and made it reality. If you like her work, check out these great shirts. One of the designs is hers!
There was always something magical about cooking to Emma Swan. From the first time she had thrown ingredients into a pan and watched them meld into something wonderful and tasty, she had been mesmerized by the transformation that to her was pure magic. So when she aged out of the foster care system at 18, she found herself working long shifts at a diner and taking a cooking classes at a local community college.
Yet after a long day where she crafted creamy risotto that made the Italian master chefs cry at its beauty, Emma found that she was a fan of the simpler things in life. That particular night she was standing over a single frying pan with a golden brown sandwich sizzling to that perfect melted state where the butter, cheese, and bread would meld into a sinfully good grilled cheese sandwich.
“You won’t win the Culinary Championships with a sandwich,” her roommate Ruby announced, dropping her bag on the farm table they had restored during a snowy weekend when the entire city had shut down. “What? No objections that competition cooking isn’t your style?”
Emma lifted the corner of the sandwich to inspect her work. “I think we’ve already had that argument. I did my time, earned the accolades. Why would the Championships want to invite me back?”
Running a hand blindly through her dark hair, Ruby sighed. “Why wouldn’t they? You’re unbeatable. You won every freaking competition.”
Merry Christmas! YO-HO-HO!! ‘Tis I, your Secret Santa! Thanks for chatting with me the past couple of weeks. I hope you enjoy your gift. I was an absolute pleasure to write it for you!!
Based on the prompt: I just wanted to put
Christmas lights up but I ended up falling off the ladder and crashing into you
while you were delivering a package to my door but oh god you’re hot, AND your
expressed love for the snowed in trope. Enjoy!
Rated: M – for sexy times / ~7600 words / Also available on ao3 and ff.net
beta’d
by the amazing @ilovemesomekillianjones, who also came up with its brilliant title. Thank you!
Emma finished securing the ladder to the side of
her house and began the perilous ascent to the rooftop. These probably weren’t
ideal conditions for hanging outdoor Christmas lights, but this was her only
day off for the next several days, and with a snow storm set to blow in later
that afternoon it was her one chance to get lights up before Christmas actually
came.
And she was gonna get these lights up.
And get the rest of her house decorated.
Before her Christmas tree was delivered.
So she could spend a cozy evening decorating her
first ever Christmas tree, in her first ever house, with the first snowfall of
the season swirling outside the windows that were all her own.
All hers.
Emma Swan had never had much that she could
actually call her own, which made this Christmas in her first house all the
more special. She planned to go all out. Garlands, and wreaths, and fake
candles in the window sills, lights on the outside of the house, and even a
real live Christmas tree.
Yup. It was going to be the best Christmas ever.
If she didn’t kill herself getting the house
lights up first.
In typical Maine fashion they’d had several days
of wet, dreary yuck leading up to the first potential snowfall, so everything
had a coating of moisture that would surely turn icy as the temperature began
to drop throughout the day. Emma meticulously worked to hang the outdoor lights
with as much haste as she could, without sacrificing precision. She’d just
gotten to the last stretch along the front of the house when she heard the
telltale sound of tires on gravel, indicating that someone was pulling up to
her secluded home on the outskirts of town.
As deputy of the small, coastal town of
Storybrooke, Emma got her fill of the citizenry day in and day out, through her
profession; so when the opportunity came to buy a home several miles out of the
way of the hustle and bustle of town, she’d jumped at it. Sure it was a little
inconvenient, but the privacy was exactly what she’d wanted, and the forest
views that surrounded most of her property weren’t too shabby either.
The distance, and slightly sketchy bridge that
spanned the little brook just off the main road, did sometimes make her feel
bad for those who had to trek out to her neck of the woods. Those like the
person currently making their way up her drive with a full and lovely Christmas
tree loaded in the back of a truck that had Jones Tree Farm displayed along its
side.
The same person who, ever since he’d arrived in
town five months prior, turned Emma into a ridiculous swooning cliche of a
woman.
Killian Jones.
The little… er, younger brother of
resident park services manager, Liam Jones.
The hot, seductively sinful, but slightly nerdy,
and totally sweet, (and single) brother of Liam Jones.
Ugh, there is SO MUCH SNOW here too. But I still love snowed in. Hello, my tropey friend.
I combined this with an anon request: “Prompt: My favorite trope! ‘Enemies’ who secretly love each other forced to come to terms with their feelings. Smooching fluff ensues. Bonus if their friends had a bet on when they’d finally get together”
It also got pretty long, so mostly under a cut. Sorrynotsorry.
-x-
“No.”
“Listen, darling, I’m not tickled by the idea either, but you’ve promised, and I’ve promised, so let’s just make the best of it, aye?”
“Just… you deal with upstairs. I’ll deal with down here. Then we get the hell out of here.” Emma gestures toward the staircase, her hands forming sharp shooing motions. “Let’s get this over with.”
“No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Killian frowns at her, scrubbing the back of his neck with his palm, brows knit in irritation. A muscle in his jaw twitches, and he looks like he wants to say something else, but instead he sighs, resigned. “Just shout if you need anything.”
Emma nods, turning her back on the world’s most irritating man and making her way into the kitchen, debating if she should plot her best friend’s murder first or Killian’s.
It’s a hard choice. She despises Killian, he of the stupid leather coats that slide over his shoulder like melting butter, and the stupidly messy hair that perpetually screams he’s been freshly fucked, and the jeans that cling to his ass… and the irritating arrogance and certainty he’s always right.
Yeah, he dies first.
But then there’s also Emma’s supposed best friend who got her into this mess.
Come to the lake house for a long weekend. It’ll be fun. Relaxing. We might even get some snow. David’s invited a friend so you can’t even say you’ll just be a third wheel.
Mary Margaret left out that the friend was none other than Killian Jones, perpetual pain in the ass. Not only that, but before even twenty four hours had gone by, all of a sudden David had some emergency back in Storybrooke that required them to leave immediately.
Immediately, as in he had his coat on before the burner on the stove was even off with one foot halfway out the door. Her friends are bad liars to start, but then Mary Margaret had smiled as she pulled on her own coat. “I’m so sorry, Emma, but I’m sure Killian won’t mind giving you a ride home. You guys are welcome to stay up here tonight.”
“I’ll come with you,” Emma replied instantly.
“I’ll give the lass a ride home after we clean up,” Killian said at the same time, and damn him, but in that moment, his usual obnoxious good humor made Emma feel like a terrible human being for wanting to leave him alone with the responsibility of cleaning up their afternoon’s mess and waiting alone for the fire David had insisted on building up to die out.
Her friends didn’t wait for her to agree before they left, and now here she is, stuck with Jones, alone, in the middle of nowhere, Maine. It’s not fair. The lake house is beautiful, the iced over water shimmering in the muted winter light, the cheerful scent of woodsmoke on the air. It should be relaxing.
Emma lifted her head, flipped her pillow over, and punched it before flopping her head back onto it. She closed her eyes, counting to fifty. She rolled onto her back, pressing the heels of her hands against her eyes hard enough to see spots, groaning in frustration.
There was just no possible way she was going to fall asleep.
Finally, she sat up with a determined frown and swung her feet down onto the cold floor. She reached for the extinguished candle on her bedside table, then thought better of it, leaving it where it was. Emma pulled on her robe and walked over and carefully opened her bedchamber door, listening for the footfalls of a night watchman. Hearing nothing, she slipped out into the passageway.
On the eve of their wedding, Killian had been put in a room in a different wing of the castle, far from Emma’s bedchamber. But after so many years of sneaking down to the kitchen for a midnight snack, it was an easy matter for Emma to avoid the watch’s patrol pattern and make her way to Killian’s bedroom, the location of which she’d made a point of memorizing. Ducking into an alcove and waiting until she was certain she wouldn’t be observed, Emma dashed to the door and carefully opened it, letting herself inside. She locked it behind her.
She heard a fumbling sound, and with her eyes straining in the dim moonlight, she saw Killian’s hand shoot out and knock his candle off the table.
“Who’s there?” he said, his voice raspy with sleep.
“It’s Emma,” she whispered, hurrying over to the bed. “Don’t… raise the alarm or whatever.”
Summary: Leaving home and a career as a roller coaster engineer on a whim with his six year old daughter was one of the last things Killian Jones wanted to do. But after falling in love with someone he’d met online to find out he’d been catfished, it seemed like the best idea. It seems even more appealing when Emma Swan, musician and bartender at a charming Irish Pub, enters his life… even if his brother and daughter have to be the ones to help him realize it.
Rated: M for a dash of salty language and a pinch of smut.
Trigger warnings: Mentions of death resulting from labor and mentions of abandonment and emotional and physical abuse. Deals with catfishing/scamming over the internet.
A/N: Oh gosh, after four months of working on this little story, I am thrilled to be able to present it to you. In the beginning, I struggled coming up with something that would meet the word-count requirements, so there are some people I would like to thank who helped me, inspired me and allowed me to burden them with this thing while offering an endless amount of support.
First of all, I wanted to give a shout out to all of the moderators of @captainswanbigbang for putting this project together and for always being responsive and helpful throughout the process. And thank you for blessing me with a fabulous artist @shipsxahoy who I really enjoyed working with. Thank you so much, Bianca, for the perfect artwork to accompany this story, including the fic banner above. Please check out the other piece she made for the story and be sure to reblog!
I also have to thank @irishswanff for this prompt that helped me get this story rolling, taking on a life of its own. I can’t say too much about the the actual prompt though, because bits and pieces of it are slowly revealed throughout the story. Then there is @resident-of-storybrooke who came up with Killian’s former occupation when I was struggling to. A shout out to @distant-rose who’s as sweet as a cupcake and looked it over, offering a bit of her cultural knowledge and setting me straight on some things. She is the reason Killian’s daughter has an Irish accent, although she is also the reason I had cut out most of my original smut scene 😉
Last but not least, I have to thank my wonderful beta-reader and dear friend @rouhn for all of her suggestions, for always getting me to see things from a different angle, for her encouragement and allowing me to bounce ideas off of her and for always being my biggest cheerleader and support. Thank you so much for sticking with me Lydia!
I am open to all reviews, even if you don’t like the story! Thank you all for reading and for your support and encouragement!
It All Starts With a Dance 