god, i’m a sucker for this, too. thanks for this, B, because the minute i saw this, the wheels started turning! this turned into something bigger than i had planned and whoa, just wowwie, thanks for that!
HOLD ME IN THIS, WILD, WILD, WORLD
Quite a few things fall within the top ten category of Annoyances in Emma Swan’s Life (trademark pending).
There’s the day to day stuff that barely scratches the top fifty. The skips that make her break a heel at least once a month fall into the top twenty-five.
Having no say whatsoever in chaperoning Henry’s eighth grade field trip to New York City? Well, that would be a top fifteen situation, if it weren’t for the fact that she managed to get out of work for this and spend some much needed quality time with her son.
Finding out she’s sharing a room with another chaperone? That’s definitely a top fifteen situation, because the last time Emma shared a room with anyone it was with her cousin, Anna, and she quickly found out that the girl was just as talkative asleep as she was awake.
Finding out she’s sharing a room with Mr. Killian Jones, Henry’s science teacher and cough guy Emma slept with exactly ten months ago and quickly put a stop to things because she so does not sleep with her son’s teachers? That quickly falls into a top ten situation.
Opening the door to see they’ve been crammed in the most economical size room – one double bed, one desk, one dresser with a television from the stone ages (or at least back when Henry was born) and one arm chair all fit perfectly like a Sims room, with just enough floor space for two people to walk single file?
Yeah, now she’s definitely tapped into the top five.
A royal who feels lost. A young woman looking for home. Perhaps they can find what they need in each other… /-/ Prince Killian and commoner Emma canon-divergence AU.
Granny Lucas looked up from the musty, leather-bound ledger in which she was adding the figures for the last night’s takings. Her glasses had slipped down her nose and the quill she was using was currently lodged between the thick strands of her loosely chignoned grey hair; combined with the look of concentration on her features she was quite the formidable spectacle.
Emma, who had been engaged in sweeping the private areas of the tavern, paused, her fingers tightly gripping the broom. “I can’t,” she said.
With a frown, Granny fixed Emma with a disapproving glare, “That son of yours needs his mother. It’s been almost six weeks since you last went.”
“We’re too busy,” Emma insisted, “You and the girls-”
Rating: Teen, adult language and situations, innuendos.
Description: It’s winter time in Storybrooke and even for Maine, it’s cold. Temperatures however are rising inside the Swan-Jones household.
Author’s Note: There is an adult version, but I warn you, it’s really mature. Please read this one if you’re young or not into that. It’s exactly the same just with those parts removed.
Fun fact: Some set observers in Steveston (the real town where they film outside shots for Storybrooke) have referred to Jennifer Morrison as a cute burrito because she wraps in layers to protect herself from the cold.
2418 words
Frigid, Teen
Killian Jones stood in the hallway of the home he shared with Emma Swan. His arms were folded and he shook his head with disapproval.
“What?” Emma asked.
“I do not like this cold spell we are having.”
She chuckled. “Really? I thought the cold didn’t bother you.”
“The attire for said cold does bother me, in fact, it’s positively vexing.”
Emma stood before him wearing a big puffy gray coat, high black boots, her favorite gray beanie, gray gloves, and a thick red scarf wound tightly around her neck and lower half of her face.
“You are wearing far too many clothes, Swan!” he cried.
She laughed. “I’m going out in sub-zero temperatures, Babe.”
“But I can barely see your lovely peach flesh! Your golden tresses are completely hidden from me! T’is a travesty!”
They heard laughter as Henry came down the stairs. “You do look kind of funny, Mom, like a big fuzzy burrito.”
“A what?”
Henry smiled. “Remember that Mexican food we had the other night, the one with the rolled tortilla stuffed with the meat and sauce?”
“Oh, yes,” said Killian. He smirked at Emma. “The lad is right, you are reminiscent of the spicy delicacy.” He stepped forward, pulled the scarf down slightly and said. “I am fond of your…fillings.”
She turned red and Henry groaned loudly. “Killian,” she hissed.
Henry walked past them to the door. “Only you could pervert a burrito,” he mumbled as he walked outside.
This is a weird angsty soap opera thing for @seastarved and @high-seas-swan for the following surprisingly cheerful prompts. I’m not sure this is at all what you wanted:
66. K.
83. I paid for half and you ate three-quarters.
102. You hear that? That’s the sound of my awesomeness.
Canon-compliant future fic, because what was the point of Liam 2.0 if not to add future drama and self-loathing for Killian Jones I ask you? 1.7 words, K.
Title is from White Lies – Bigger Than Us which is a damn good tune.
Fairy tales are funny things.
They have their own rules, their own logic, their own way of meting out punishment to the wrongdoers and rewards to the deserving. It’s just that sometimes, the lines between the two aren’t all that clear cut.
She’d been horrified when Killian had first told her, his voice low and strained in the darkness of their bedroom as he admitted to the murder of his own father, to the rotten circumstances of his childhood, to the guilt he carried for orphaning his own brother and cursing him to the same loveless, desperate life that he’d had.
“I at least had Liam,” he’d said, forcing the words through gritted teeth, his fingers tight on the bedsheets, “but who did he have, Swan?”
She’d no answer for him, only the soft pressure of her fingers in his hair and the dampness on her cheeks when she lent down to kiss him, and he doesn’t ask again.
Because @seastarved is mad at me D: For you, Chinx, and for @spartanguard for the following prompts:
I’m a lucky girl, I’ll admit that
I bet you feel like an artist
This is where you impress me, right?
Proto-smut under the cut. 600 words. Rated F for Frustration.
“I really wish you’d get on with it.”
He wraps his fingers around her right ankle, lifting her leg slightly so that her bent knee allows him a better view of where she’s naked and damp and waiting so terribly patiently, just like he’d asked. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, at least. Fun, even. She grits her teeth against a combination of irritation and arousal, and he smirks.
Ann is ruining my life, suggesting a Contact AU. This is probably my favorite movie/book in the entire world. I have a lot of feelings so I’m going to inflict them on all of you, in two parts because I have work/school/sleep and this is long. Part 2 will have more CS.
@captain–kitten this is once again squarely on your shoulders
Do you think we could talk to Mom?
Puerto Rico is hot, even at night. She loves it though, it’s so different than the seasons she grew up with in Minnesota with Aunt Ingrid. The insects are different, but the night still sings to her and keeps her company on the long shifts with the scope.
He’s been keeping her company too.
Killian Jones, roaming philosopher-slash-adventurer-slash-theist, had taken an interest in Emma’s work with SETI, taking a trip out to interview her and her colleagues and gain some perspective on the question of intelligent life in the universe. They’ve butted heads more often than not, but Emma’s found herself appreciating his perspective and his questions.
He doesn’t ever try to tell her she’s wrong or to preach to her.
Frenemies AU A Frenemies AU, set in modern times – Killian Jones and Emma Swan have hated each other since the moment they met. Killian is arrogant, cocky and a womanizer; Emma is standoffish, straight forward, and rude. When David and Mary Margaret ask them to be their respective Maid of Honor and Best Man, their desire to stay as far away from each other as possible, goes awry. The two must work together to make the Nolan-Blanchard wedding as perfect as possible. The best wedding gift the bride and groom could receive is for their closest friends to get along, and if they help their friends achieve their own happy ending, then who’s to stop them?
Rating/Warnings: M for language, alcohol, sexually explicit content for later chapters.
not too long of a wait for you all, i hope? i did hope to get this out sooner, but if you follow me on tumblr you’d know that i’ve been moving, and it’s taken me a couple of weeks to get the internet, and i get no signal where i live which sucks, ugh. anyway, updating should be back to normal again now.
however, just a warning that i move into university on the 17th of september, so there may be a few days, where i don’t update, and i’m not around much, but it won’t be for long, i promise. even if updating may be slightly slower, when i start. anyways, i hope you all like this one!
By the time Emma has finished her story of that night, she’s stopped crying, the silent tears halting and that’s not the only thing that has halted. Her, Ruby and Mary Margaret have found themselves pausing in their stroll, and near the lake on the camping grounds. There’s a few big rocks to at the side of them, where they’d stopped, and Ruby has taken to sprawling across one, with Mary Margaret resting lightly on a slightly smaller one.
“God,” Ruby groans dramatically before she wipes a hand over her forehead, making the other two roll their eyes. “Have we been walking forever?”
Emma snorts.
“Barely,” she mutters. “About an hour and a half. How unfit are you?”
A sinful smile crosses Ruby’s red lips, and her eyes light up with mischief.
“I’m sure Victor would attest to how very fit I am,” Ruby tells her, and Emma groans in response.
Emma lets that settle as she climbs up onto the highest rock, and she sighs deeply to herself as she sits herself down, her arms wrapping around her knees tightly and hugging them to her chest, her lips pressing tightly together. When she looks up, she finds two pairs of eyes on her.
Mary Margaret seems to be soft, whilst Ruby’s seem to be hard.
“Emma,” Mary Margaret begins, her voice purposefully soft. “Have you talked to him?”
Emma shrugs, because what is the right answer to that?
“Sort of,” Emma tells her. “We spoke some on the way here.”
Hello! So I decided to write a little bit of Snook v Captain Charming. It’s silly like all of the stuff I spew so don’t take it too seriously.
Lesson the first: When in a hole, stop digging. David isn’t a fan of the new budding friendship between his wife and best mate.
It started about a month into their return from the underworld. Killian would drop Snow a somewhat saucy compliment during dinner or downtime with the family at their home and earn himself an eye roll or snarky rebuff from the former bandit. They were few and far between, but the more comfortable they became around each other, the bolder they both seemed to get, resulting in an outright battle of the innuendos every time they’d meet.
“You haven’t even asked how my day was.” He whined with faux sadness. “And how has your day been, sailor?” Snow entertained him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well it’s certainly perked up now you’ve arrived, darling.” He teased. Snow rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder causing Emma to shake her head and chuckle at their back and forth. “Who knew the most cut-throat pirate of the Enchanted forest was such a kiss ass.” She bit back. “Milady.” He responded in false shock. “While I’d be honoured at the invitation, I think your other half may be the jealous type.” “Really? You think?” Snow played innocent.
Emma enjoyed seeing them banter. Their budding friendship had surprised her at first; Killian’s bold comments had shocked her slightly, but not as much as her mother’s responses. She’d asked him one night on their way home why he did it when curiosity got the better of her.
Summary: Emma Swan is struggling as an actress. All seems lost until she manages to swing a spot on Kings and Queens, the most popular Medieval TV Show of all time. But here’s the catch: Emma hates being in love, and acting it is proving more tricky than she first thought. Her whole world is about to change, especially working alongside her new and mysterious co-star Killian Jones. It’s been so long since Emma has opened her heart to anyone. Could she start now?
Rating: T. But there is a chapter later in the fan fiction which blurs the lines a little. Apart from that, no other warnings
When Emma wakes the next morning, her head is pulsing to a steady drum beat. She opens her eyes to blazing light, only for them to fall shut again. After a few moments of lying there, she notices an ache in her back. It’s only then that she realises she’s twisted awkwardly on… the sofa? She doesn’t remember falling asleep on the sofa. Then again, she doesn’t remember much from the night before. How did she get home?
Henry.
He’s standing over her, arms folded, watching her with a very parent-like expression. His form is a little blurry (maybe it’s because she only has one eye open), an aura of light surrounding his head like a halo.
It All Starts With a Dance 