#emma swan text post meme | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatsdevilstears-a · 2 years

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/// GUIDELINES

——GENERAL

1. Hello there and welcome to my blog. Thank you for reading my guidelines! My name is Wiktoria, you can call me vikn. I live in Poland. As you can see, English is not my first language, therefore mistakes can occur, please bear that in mind.

I also have an interest tracker so you can fill it here.

2. I consider this blog independent and semi-selective, meaning, I prefer to write write with mutuals only. Memes, open starters are open to everyone, though. That doesn’t mean, though, it will carry on. I’m open to exploring, but I do not click with everyone. Please, don’t take it personally if that happens with you as well. Also, feel free to send me pms, asks and just say hi! I’m a friendly person that also knows all too well what anxiety means.

3. I’m not that fond of writing with OC characters and I don’t, most of the time.

8. When it comes to formatting - I keep it simple – small text + eventually icons.

4. I’d love to explore crossover stories. Examples? Relationship between Regina Mills & Damon Salvatore, Emma Swan & Theo Crain, no matter how crazy that may seem.

5. Speaking of... Even if I do not have characters from certain fandoms, doesn't mean I wouldn't like to write with character from them in crossovers. Movies and tv shows I can think of are: harry potter, lord of the rings, the vampire diaries, twilight, stranger things, why women kill, orange is the new black, sherlock, jessica jones, charmed, disney & pixar in general...

6. I am open to all kinds of nsfw; I often like to write all kinds of dramas, character deaths, horror, mental-illness issues, abusive relationships, heartbreak and heartache. +18 muns and muses only. I’ll tag such posts appropriately.

7. I do not possess icons for all my characters. Most of the icons I do use aren’t mine, but I’m trying to slowly make some myself.

——DOs AND DON’Ts

2. NoH8! If I see it, I’ll unfollow you asap.

1. No god-modding; I control my character, you control yours. There are examples where I give permission to do so, e.g. we discuss something in pms and plan things to turn out the specific way. In other cases… I may turn out not so nice.

4. Do not force a ship on me. I’m open to it, but I’d like you to discuss it with me first.

3. Personal blogs - do not follow me, nor like/reblog my posts! I’ll block you.

5. Of course, read all the rules! If I see you haven’t, there will be just one more chance to.

6. Please, try to match the length of the replies.

7. Also, please, cut your posts.

——SHIPPING

1. First and foremost, I ship chemistry! There are, though, ships I particularly don’t like - that’s why I always advance to message me about it first. If you’re shy, just send me an anon!

2. If you’re curious about my favourite ones, though, my two otps are swan queen [emma & regina] and masriel [marisa & asriel]. & when it comes to otps, i rarely ship those characters with anyone else -- if so that's with characters from another fandom (as i mentioned -- i love crossovers)

As for other ships I do support: dani & jaimie, serena & june, villanelle & eve, anne & gilbert, moiraine & lan [platonically but may try also go beyond ;)], moiraine & siuan, alice & luther, alison & cole, norma & romero, lizbon & sergio, nairobi & helsinki (in obvious way ;)).

I'm fairlyyy ok with: dragon queen (regina & maleficent), emma & lily, serena & fred (agnsttt), theo & trish, vanessa & ethan, melanie & ben, beth & benny.

3. If I were to write about all my characters’ sexual orientation, I’d take me forever. Which is why I want you to look at them as bisexual or pansexual [perhaps apart from those who are originally gay]. But it honestly depends on the story; I may ship those characters with either females or males. So even if we have such characters as Serena Joy or Lord Asriel, they can be gay or bi [openly or not], or straight. I like to play with that form in various stories.

4. When it comes to smut, rule number one: +20 muns and muses only. If you came here for this sort of entertainment, I’ll say look for it somewhere else. I’m ok with writing it - from time to time and when it feels right. It will be under a read more and tagged as ‘nsfw’. I feel like it may be fade to black most of the time, though.

/// MUSES

-------PRIMARY

>>>his dark materials (book & tv show based): marisa coulter // face: ruth wilson ; lyra belacqua // face: dafne keen ; lord asriel belacqua // face: james mcavoy.

>>>once upon a time: regina mills // face: lana parrilla ; emma swan // face: jennifer morrison.

>>>the wheel of time (for now tv show based): moiraine damodred // face: rosamund pike ; lan mandragoran /// face: daniel henney.

>>>snowpiercer: melanie cavill // face: jennifer connelly ; alexandra cavill // face: rowan blanchard.

>>>penny dreadful: vanessa ives // face: eva green.

>>>the queen’s gambit: beth harmon /// face: anya taylor-joy.

>>>the haunting series: theodora cran // face: kate siegel ; eleanor crain // face: victoria pedretti.

-------SECONDARY

>> the affair: alison bailey /// face: ruth wilson.

>>luther: alice morgan // face: ruth wilson.

>>anne with an e: anne shirley-cuthbert // face: amybeth mcnulty ; gilbert blythe // face: lucas jade zumann.

>>killing eve (tv show based): villanelle/oksana astankova // face: jodie comer.

>>the handmaid’s tale (tv show based): serena joy waterford // face: yvonne strahovski.

>>bates motel: norma bates /// face: vera farmiga.

>>the haunting series: jamie taylor // face: amelia eve / carla gugino ; dani clayton /// face: victoria pedretti ; olivia crain // face: carla gugino.

>>the oa: nina azarova/prairie johnson /// face: brit marling.

-------TEST

>his dark materials (book & tv show based): mary malone // face: simone kirby.

>killing eve (tv show based): eve polastri // face: sandra oh.

>bates motel: norman bates // face: freddie highmore.

>la casa de papel: nairobi // face: alma flores ; lizbon // face: itziar ituño ; el professor // face: álvaro morte.

1 note · View note

let-it-raines · 4 years

Note

Okay, now I know you're accepting prompts for the CMIYC verse, expect a whole lot of them coming from me 😂I'd LOVE to see Emma finding out she's pregnant, and her telling Killian, and just their whole journey through her pregnancy!

This isn’t going to cover everything you asked for @dorisquinn but I’ve got 2/3. You can send me all of the prompts you want. Honestly, seeing your enthusiasm as well as the enthusiasm of others to still want parts of this universe makes me so happy! You guys should see the timeline I just mapped out to make sure everything stays cohesive because I’ve got some more extras to write for you guys 🙈

found on ao3 | here |

-/-

March 2022.

“These boxes are never going to get unpacked.”

“We could have hired someone, you know.”

“I’m not even working full-time right now. There’s no need for us to have hired someone when all I’m doing is sitting at home.”

“You go to meetings…on occasion.”

“I have a meeting tomorrow. Stop making that look on your face, twenty-nine.”

“There’s not a look on my face, besides a handsome one.”

Emma huffs and falls back against the wall, sinking down onto the ground and pulling her knees to her chest. They should have moved as soon as last season ended. It would have given them more time to unpack the ridiculous amount of stuff they somehow accumulated over the past three years, but there was a problem with the closing and then the plumbing, and they officially signed for this place two weeks into spring training. Killian had to fly back from Florida for the paperwork, spent one night in the house with her where all they had was their bed set up, and then he went straight back to the hell that is Florida humidity.

At least they’re not there for months at a time in the summer. Everyone would die. It’s bad enough when they’re in Tampa for a few days at a time.

(Then again, humidity in New York in the summer is no joke.)

She could have flown down and stayed with him, already has for a few days here and there, but they need to get settled before the season starts and things get insane. Things are really never not insane, but there are definitely periods where there is a little more peace.

Off-season is undoubtedly her favorite season.

She loves baseball and the game and working almost every day, but having Killian home for months at a time and being able to sleep in their own bed instead of a hotel bed is so much better than anything else.

Emma definitely wants the off-season back.

And this house to be unpacked.

One of those things is more likely to happen than the other, and it’s not the house getting unpacked.

“I miss you,” Emma whispers into the phone.

“I miss you, love. You know you can fly down anytime, right? There’s nothing keeping you there. It’s been less than a week, but I miss you terribly.”

She flips the camera around to all of the boxes. “I don’t want to be living in chaos. I want, like, some kind of organization. I told myself that when I left my room key with you that I would not be flying back to Florida. I have to get this place functional.”“I know we’ve been married for nearly a year, love, but I don’t think you should be turning into me quite this quickly with all of that talk of organization.”“Technically, as far as everyone else knows, we’re only nine months into this whole marriage thing, so that’s not quite a year.”

“Specifics.”“Ruby was over here yesterday helping me unpack and found the pictures from the clerk’s office. I’m pretty sure she figured us out.”“I think David has known for awhile now.”“Why do you think that?”

“Just a hunch.”Emma groans and scoots further down on the floor. “If David knew, he would have said something.”“Aye, you’re likely right.” Killian smiles, his face slightly pixilated. “Come see me this weekend, Swan. I know you said no more flights, but maybe just the one more. I’ll take you to dinner. Wine and dine you and all that.”“I think there’s a third part of that proposition.”

Killian gasps and holds his hand to his chest. “Dirty.”

“You know it, twenty-nine.”

“I think you mean sixty-nine.”

“Oh my God.”

Killian chuckles and pushes his hair back. It’s too long again. He hasn’t gotten it cut in months, and as handsome as he looks, she’s desperately waiting for him to get it cut. Suggesting it hasn’t really worked out well for her, but if he likes it long, he likes it long. It’s not like she’d appreciate it if he told her to shave her legs or something like that.

“I’ve got to go to workouts, but I’ll call you again tonight, yeah?”

“I look forward to it. I love you.”“And I you, my love.”

The video lingers for a moment, and then it disconnects, only the memory of Killian’s smile there.

She misses him like crazy. It’s ridiculous and stupid and kind of annoying. Maybe she should go down and see him this weekend. It’s not like she has this weekend. Spring training is almost over, and she could wait it out. She really could. That’s what she’s told herself she’ll do, but should she if she doesn’t have to? Maybe if she gets enough boxes unpacked.

Hell, maybe she should just cave and hire people to do it for her, but she put up such a dumb fight when Killian suggested it that she doesn’t want to admit to failure now. Not that he’d ever truly judge her for it.

Okay. He’d judge her a little bit.

Her phone buzzes in her hand.

Elsa: You planning on letting me in?

Shit. The doorbell didn’t sound, and Emma didn’t hear a knock at the door. Quickly, she stands from the ground and kicks a box to the side before hurrying down two sets of stairs to get to the front door. She loves having more space than the apartment, but she doesn’t love all of the stairs. At least, right now. Soon she’ll hopefully kick ass at being able to walk up and down them quickly.

Hopefully her ass will look fantastic because of it too.

Damn Manhattan and its lack of space.

“Hey,” Emma greets after unlocking the front door. “Did you ring the doorbell?”

“I did.”

“Well shit.” Emma leans forward and wraps her arms around Elsa. “I guess our doorbell is broken too. Do you know anything about electrical work?”

“I know how to hook up our cable, but that’s about it.”

“Then what good are you to me?”

“I bring you donuts.”

“Bless you.”

“I know.” Elsa steps inside, closing the door behind her, and immediately walks toward the kitchen where she puts down the bag of donuts she’s carrying and then immediately starts looking around the room. “Have you unpacked any of the kitchen?”

“A few things. Mostly things I use. It’s all Killian’s, and he hasn’t really been here to tell me where to put anything. I don’t know his system as well as I should.”

“Do you have silverware out? Plates and bowls?”

“I have a few things but not all of it.”

Elsa sighs and pulls her shorts up and then adjusts her t-shirt. She took the day off to help Emma unpack, and, really, she should be lounging around watching TV or something. “I don’t mean to go all mom on you, but grab a donut. We’re about to unpack your kitchen. Then we move to your bedroom and your closet so you can at least function. Everything else will come later.”

“As long as I get a donut, this all sounds good to me.”

“You can have another if you finish this room.”

“I’m good with a bribe.”

“Incentive. It makes it sound less dirty.”

Emma laughs. “Deal.”

Elsa is some kind of unpacking machine. It’s actually ridiculous. She knows exactly how to store everything in their cabinets and the pantry, and while Emma is sure Killian will rearrange it all when he realizes it’s not to his specifications, after three hours, they have all of the kitchen boxes emptied. It’s practically a miracle, and Emma didn’t even need an extra donut to make her do the work.

(An extra donut is sounding really good right now, though. Elsa got the good kind.)

All she really needed was Elsa. If they had Anna here, though, Emma imagines the entire house would be finished by now. Well, if Anna wasn’t eight months pregnant. Mary Margaret would probably be the better choice, but she’s got a class full of third-graders to attend to. Ruby, however, would bring everything to a halt because she’d get distracted by the things she was unpacking.

They move upstairs and back to the bedroom after they’re finished in kitchen, and Elsa sticks to the bedroom while Emma works in the closet. She’s got some of her clothes up, mostly her workout stuff, and even though their stuff is boxed in a way that should make it easy to hang up several things at once, Emma keeps getting distracted trying to organize it in a way that’s not something she’s going to sustain.

Seriously. Who is organized enough to keep things sorted by color?

Killian. Killian is. He organizes his freaking t-shirts by how old they are.

The weirdo.

Emma finally decides to just do it by type of clothing, and after she’s gotten all of her dresses on the racks, she decides that she needs some kind of break. She did not sleep last night, and no amount of coffee could wake her up.

Has she even had coffee today?

Or maybe she’s simply bored by having to unpack. That’s a lot of the same thing over and over again, and all Emma really wants to be doing is watching Netflix.

Slowly, she slides back down to the ground and pulls out her phone again, answering her texts and then clicking on Instagram to move away the notifications. It’s all stuff Killian has tagged her in, and she quickly moves through the videos and memes before clicking on his page. It’s been mostly baseball lately, pictures of him, Will, and Robin, but if she scrolls a little further back, there are pictures of Liam and Elsa or Addy and Lucy. And then there are pictures of her. She mostly uses social media for work, but she does like to get on and see what Killian has posted. It’s usually something she’s never seen, and there are at least ten pictures on here that she had no idea were taken.

There’s one in particular that she likes the most. It’s from last November. They were in Portland for Thanksgiving sitting on the swing in Ruth’s backyard, and Killian snapped a photo of her drinking coffee, the sun glinting off of her skin in just the right way so that she looked tanner than she actually was.

My love forever, the caption reads.

That day had been…hard. It had been fucking awful, actually, but Killian had wrapped his arms around her and held her until it wasn’t so awful.

That’s what he does. He makes awful days feel that little bit better simply by being there.

She likes that, likes that she has that forever now.

My love forever.

She has had that love for awhile with David and Ruth, with her friends too, and while she doesn’t like to put some relationships over others, Killian does get the slightest elevation.

It’s good to have all that love. It’s healthy, and if someone asked her twenty years ago if she’d ever have any of this, she would have laughed in their face.

She can’t stop staring at the photo and all of the memories behind it. She had been so sure that morning, and it wasn’t…she wasn’t.

“Hey, Emma, do you have – woah, what’s wrong?”

“What?” Emma sniffles, wiping below her eyes. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“You’re sitting on the floor sniffling and wiping your eyes. Those are pretty big clues.”

Emma scoffs. “I’m fine.”“You’re a liar.”“Els, I’m fine.”

“I believe you about as much as I believe Killian when he says that.” Elsa walks over to her to and slides down onto the floor next to her, kicking away a shoe and grabbing onto Emma’s forearm. “You want to talk about whatever it is? You know you don’t have to, but I’m a good listener. I couldn’t be married to Liam if I wasn’t.”

“Liam does talk a lot.”

“I think it’s a Jones family trait.”

“I think I might be pregnant.”

She might have that trait too for the way she just blurted that out.

Elsa gasps, and Emma braces herself for it just like she braces herself for it every time this conversation comes up. She’s the one who brought it up this time, but it was kind of inevitable when this is honestly all she’s been thinking about for two days now.

For a little more than two days if she’s totally honest.

“I didn’t…I’m not,” Emma stutters, trying to continue talking before she shuts herself up, “I never thought I would be someone who wanted a baby. I thought I was going to be alone for so much of my life, so when Killian and I decided to try and kept having these negative tests, I don’t know. I, well, it sucks, and it’s been really damn hard. It hasn’t even been a long time, and we’re still so young. I probably shouldn’t even complain because I know it’s harder for other people. It’s just that a part of me feels like I’ve gotten so much good in my life I was never supposed to get. What if this is the thing I don’t get? What if I have this feeling in my gut now because it’s some kind of sign that I should give up before my hopes get too high?”

“Oh, darling,” Elsa sighs as she wraps her arm around Emma’s back and pulls her toward her, rubbing her hand up and down her arm, “you can’t think like that. The world doesn’t give you a certain amount of good and then just stop. You can have more good than you think you deserve. I do. And that feeling of helplessness when it comes to getting pregnant and it not working as fast as you want? I’ve had that too. It’s what happened with Lucy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I thought maybe Addison was going to be it for us, and we were like you two. We hadn’t been trying for a long time, but it could still feel hopeless when Addison was so easy. Getting pregnant is hard, and unless you talk to others like this, there’s no way you’d know. All you’d see is the happy announcements and the smiles.”

Emma turns her head into Elsa’s shoulder. It’s a good thing she’s not wearing mascara because she’d totally ruin Elsa’s t-shirt.

“So I’m not some kind of freak show for sitting in my closet freaking out about this?”

“Emma, having a baby, or even the possibility of it, is the most terrifying thing in the world. If you weren’t having meltdowns, I’d be concerned about you.”

“This is so not in my wheelhouse,” Emma mumbles. “I talk for a living, talking about this is…different.”

“Baseballs and babies aren’t exactly in the same category.”

“They are on Family Day.”“Yeah, well, you know what I mean.”

Emma huffs and pulls away from Elsa, leaning her head back against the wall. “This closet is still such a mess. My shoes are everywhere.”

“Oh, I know. I think I’m going to need to borrow those wedges that are caught up underneath the pile of Killian’s jerseys.”

“They are yours to borrow.”

“Not to keep?”

“Nah, I like them too much for that.”

Elsa laughs and twists on the ground until she’s facing Emma, small smile on her face. “You’re going to be okay. You and Killian both. And if you ever need to talk, Liam and I are always here. Anna too.”

“Anna is eight months pregnant with twins. All she does is warn people against getting pregnant. I don’t think she’s ever going to have sex again.”

“Can you blame her?”

“Absolutely not.”

Elsa claps her hands together. “Okay, let’s conquer this closet, and then I’m taking you home with me for dinner so you’re not left in this house stalking your husband’s Instagram.”

“I was not doing that.”

“You totally were. I could see it on your screen when I walked in.”

“I’m taking away your shoe privileges.”

Elsa quickly gets up and runs over to the wedges, picking them up. “Nope. They’re mine now.”

-/-

She’s pregnant.

Or, at least, that’s what the three tests she took this morning said.

Emma had gone over to Liam and Elsa’s last night for dinner, and she’d forgotten about everything. She really had, and it had been nice not to think about it and to be able to know that her life was going to go on no matter what. She knew that. Logically, she did. Her life is not defined by what a pregnancy test says, but when it’s what you want…

When it’s what she and Killian want.

And they might get now.

Oh shit. She is not ready to give birth.

That’s not even happening right now, or in the near future, but it’s going to happen. Emma’s pretty sure it’s some kind of torture device designed to make being a woman even more difficult, but she’s got to stop thinking of that right now.

What she’s got to start thinking about is the fact that she’s in New York while Killian is in Florida.

Florida.

Shit. She’s got to book a flight to Florida.

She said she wasn’t going to do it, but that was before she knew for sure.

That was before.

Where the hell is her neck pillow?

Emma gets off the rim of the tub and walks into the bedroom, grabbing her laptop off the charger and stretching out on the bed while trying to find the next flight. There are a few this afternoon, but she’s got meetings she can’t cancel. There’s one she might be able to make around seven, though, and she quickly enters her information and books a one-way ticket.

She’s never been so excited to go to Florida.

-/-

“Can I get an extra key to room 835?”

“And your name is?”

“Emma Jones.”

The receptionist starts typing on her keyboard, looking up at Emma and then looking back at her computer, her brows furrowed. “I’m sorry. There’s not an Emma Jones in that room.”

“I know. It’s my husband’s room. It’s under his name. Killian Jones. It should be under the block of rooms for the Yankees.”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a key to that room. It’s our policy, especially when it comes to our VIP guests in our suites. It’s for their safety.”

Emma has to fight the urge to roll her eyes. She’s exhausted. It’s been a long ass day, she sat next to someone who snored the entire flight down here, and all she wants to do is see Killian. Why the hell did she leave her key with Killian last week?

Oh, yeah, because she wasn’t supposed to come back.

“If I was some kind of stalker, how would I know his room number?”

“You would be surprised what people know.”

She sighs and pulls out her phone, clicking on Ariel’s name.

“Emma?”

“Ariel, can you get me an extra key to Killian’s room?”

“Are you here?” Ariel squeals before quieting. “Wait.” There’s a mumble and then the sound of a chair squeaking before Ariel’s voice comes back into focus. “Sorry. We’re out at dinner, and I had to move away from the table. This is a surprise, right?”

“Mhm.”

“That is literally the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“You need to hear more things.”

“Oh, hush. I’ll call the front desk. We’ve got to be back soon anyways because I have to relieve the babysitter for Morgan, so it won’t be too long.”

“That sounds perfect. I’ll probably see you tomorrow, okay?”

“I can’t wait, and I promise that my lips are sealed.”

They hang up, and the front desk’s phone immediately rings. The receptionist nods and smiles and is completely and totally nice to Ariel, typing in a few things on her computer as she avoids eye contact with Emma. Then the conversation is over and Emma is being handed a card.

“This works for both the elevator and the room. Have a nice night, Mrs. Jones.”

“Thanks,” Emma says, forcing a smile. She knows the woman was just doing her job, but it doesn’t keep her from being annoyed. She’s not about to be pissy with her though. “Have a good night.”

Grabbing her luggage, she maneuvers out of the lobby and to the elevator. She knows this hotel better than any other hotel in the country from how much she’s stayed here, and she easily makes her way up to Killian’s room, sliding the card in the door and sighing in relief that the clerk actually gave her a key that worked. She was worried that she wouldn’t.

Killian’s suite is clean, and Emma knows it’s not just because of housekeeping. The man is so damn particular about everything, and even though all she wants to do is curl up in bed and go to sleep, she opens up her suitcase and starts putting her few clothes away, making sure not to mess with any of Killian’s stuff. It’s what he would end up doing later anyways, and if she does it now, it’ll be one less thing he’ll have to focus on.

How the hell is she supposed to tell him that she’s pregnant?

That’s something she should have focused on for the flight down here, but all she could think about was how much she wanted to murder the man who was snoring next to her.

She’s going to be great at the whole getting no sleep thing.

Did she really want this? Did they? Are they crazy? What drives someone to want to have a baby? Yeah, they’re cute, but then they grow up and yell at you for telling them not to eat straight sugar for dinner. And she didn’t have parents. Well, she has Ruth, but she didn’t have Ruth for fifteen years. Killian’s mom died, and his dad is a piece of shit. What do either of them know about babies and being parents?

What do either of them know about kids in general?

Well, they do have nieces and nephews and friends with kids. Hell, their friends have had so many kids. It’s like in the past two years all anyone has done is pop a kid out and –

The door to the suite beeps, and Emma doesn’t even realize she’s been pacing for a long time until Killian’s standing right in front of her blinking with his mouth wide open.

“Hi,” Emma squeaks out.

It’s official. She is not herself today.

“Fucking hell,” Killian mumbles.

“Well, that’s always the greeting a girl – ”

Killian strides forward and cups her cheeks before pulling her to him with his mouth, sucking on her bottom lip before he starts moving and can’t seem to stop. It’s been less than a week. That’s all. It hasn’t even been that long since they’ve been apart. They make it a point to never go more than nine days, but she’s missed him more than she ever has.

Melodramatic and all that.

“What,” he starts, still kissing her, “are,” he continues as his lips move to her jaw, “you,” he sighs against her cheek, “doing,” he whispers against her eyelid, “here?” he finishes as his lips find hers once more while their foreheads rest against each other.

“I really missed Scarlet.”

Killian tilts his head back and barks out a laugh as his hands move from her cheeks to her biceps, squeezing them. Her stomach is absolutely swirling.

“God, I love you. You’re – ” He shakes his head, and his eyes crinkle. He’s gotten darker during training, and there’s the slightest tan line from where he’ll wear his hat backwards during pitching drills outside.

“I’m what?”

“Well, if I were to list all of the things you are, I imagine we’d be standing here forever.”

Emma scoffs and pushes at his chest before moving closer once more so she can wrap her arms around his neck. “Why are you the way that you are?”

“Charming? I believe I was born this way.”

It’s Emma’s turn to shake her head at him. She presses up on her toes and lingers until her breath is ghosting over his mouth. “I love you, twenty-nine.”

“Good. I love you, Swan.”

She finally kisses him then, and Killian slowly backs her up to the bed until she’s falling down on top of it. All thoughts leave her mind as his lips and his hands move over her, and they truly disappear when his mouth is between her thighs and all she can think is how damn good that feels. It almost always does, like some kind of magic that’s bottled between the two of them, and even when it’s not good, Emma knows that there’s no one she’d rather get lockjaw or really unfortunate cramps with.

And weirdly, as Killian swivels his hips and hits just the right rhythm, she knows that no matter how much she’s freaking out about everything, the two of them have got this.

“Did you know the front-desk clerk thought I was a stalker?” Emma asks later. They haven’t changed back into any clothes, and Emma can’t seem to stop twirling Killian’s chest hair around her fingers while his hand dances across her back, tracing familiar words there.

“Really now?”

“Mhm. I tried to get a room key, and she refused to give me one.”

“Ah, well, I have been having an influx of stalkers lately. It must be my devilishly good looks.”

“You’re never lacking in confidence, are you? Even when it comes to joking about something that’s not funny.”

“You would know more than anyone how that isn’t true.”

Emma leans down to kiss his chest before resting her chin there. The air conditioner clicks on, and a cold rush of air runs over Emma’s bare skin. Killian tugs the comforter up over a little more of her back, and they sit in silence as Emma starts counting how fast her heart is beating. If she doesn’t tell him tonight, she won’t sleep. It’ll eat at her until the morning, and with how exhausted she is from not sleeping two nights in a row, she really can’t afford another night without sleep.

She also hasn’t had coffee in days. That has sucked.

“Killian, I – ”

She stops when his finger traces her name into her back. “What is it, love?”

“Nothing,” Emma begins, even if she knows it’s everything. “It’s just…Killian, I’m pregnant.”

For the rest of her life she’ll remember that Killian stopped blinking for a few seconds too long. She’ll remember that his eyes are slightly red-rimmed from his own lack of sleep, and she’ll remember the way that slowly but surely his lips curl from a small smile to one of the brightest she’s ever seen from him.

“Are you? For real? I’m not imagining this conversation?”

Emma inhales and nods. “I think so. I wouldn’t be far along. Like, at all, so anything could happen. But my period is late, and I took, like, three tests this morning that were positive. Peeing on a stick never feels normal.”

Killian chuckles as his free hand comes around to tuck her hair behind her ear. He’s so gentle like that, and she doesn’t know what she did to deserve him. He can be hot-headed and impatient and ready to act on his anger instead of thinking it through, but at his core, Killian Jones is a good man.

“Aye, I imagine not.”

He leans down to glide his lips over hers, and even if Emma had imagined what it would be like to tell Killian they better start reading all of those books so they have some clue what they’re doing, she knows none of it would be better than this.

Calm and content and like they were always supposed to end up here.

“I love you, Swan,” Killian whispers as his hand shifts from her back to her stomach. “I don’t – thank you for being by my side for all of this.”“Always, twenty-nine. Always.”

-/-

Tag list: @bluewildcatfanatic @killianswannn @dorisquinn @onepunintendid @authorarsinoe @stunningswan @eala-captian @galaxyzxstark @xellewoods @mariakov81 @ultraluckycatnd @royalswan @shey-starsfury @superchocovian @sals86 @iam2307 @ashley-knightingale @karenfrommisthaven @scientificapricot @captswanis4vr @ultimiflos @jamif @idristardis @nikkiemms @resident-of-storybrooke @tiganasummertree @bmbbcs4evr @onceuponaprincessworld @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @teamhook @notoriouscs @kmomof4 @ekr032-blog-blog @cs-forlife @andiirivera @jonirobinson64 @qualitycoffeethings @carpedzem @tornadoamy

#catch me if you can #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan ff #captain swan fic #captain swan fanfic #captain swan #dorisquinn

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fairytalegf · 7 years

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hey, you two should kiss [18/??]

#emmaswanedit #hookedit #ouatedit #cs graphic #captain swan #ouat #emma swan #killian jones #mine*#my graphic #ouat graphic #text post meme #ytsk #i love my nerds

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killiancygnus · 7 years

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Serendipitous Melody 12/?

Summary: Everyone has dreams. You might dream of becoming an astronaut or teacher, or you might want to become a doctor and save as many lives you can. Emma Swan’s childhood dream was being a singer. But with life getting in the way and never finding the courage to overcome her fears, she never had a chance to follow it. That is until a little push from her friends lead her to cash on an opportunity; and, who knows, she might even get more than what she’d wished for.

Rated: T

Word count: ~3.3k

A/N: I LIVE! I know this is super late and I’m very sorry but between writer’s block and the hard time I’m having at uni it took me ages to finish this up. I hope you like it though! I honestly don’t know when I’ll be able to post chapter 13 since exams season will begin in a few days for me but I’ll try my best not to make you wait 6 weeks again. Anyway, comments make my day so if you liked this chapter or if you’ve just started reading this story, don’t be shy! I’m a sweet potato you can ask around :’).

As always, huge thanks to @the-reason-to-sail-home and @londonsbridge, my woderful friends and betas, for helping me with the editing and to all the CS Writers’ Hub ladies.

Tagging some friends: @villains-happy-ending, @stardusted-nymph, @allisonchameron, @kmomof4, @hencethebravery, @katie-dub, @captainwiley, @irishswanff, @thejollypirate, @dassala, @imhookedonaswan, @ofshipsandswans, @legendofthephoenixcs and @mahstatins

If you want to be tagged too let me know :)

(Emma’s song is ‘Human’ by Christina Perry whereas Elsa’s is ‘Bird Set Free’ by Sia)

Links: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 / AO3

Emma was slowly climbing up the stairs, trying with all her might not to bounce up and down in excitement. She was just about to have a lesson with Killian, her first lesson before the semifinals. She couldn’t believe she had gotten so far in this competition, which was ironic because at first Ruby had to do a lot of convincing for her to even consider doing an audition.

A few days had passed since she last saw Killian. And, to be honest, she’d spent a nice couple of days with him. Yes, him telling her how much he cared for her and them both sharing bits and pieces of their past had been emotionally draining for the both of them, but they had fun. Watching the show with him had been great, even though she had to admit that watching and hearing herself sing on television had been weird. He gave her tips, based on both the others’ performance and hers, he told her stories of what happened behind the scenes and then he made her blush furiously when he went on an impassioned rant about how much she’d improved since they’d started working together and how much of an amazing singer she is.

The days leading to her next lesson were mostly uneventful. They would have been completely quiet if only Mary Margaret didn’t convince her to go out with Ruby. However, what she claimed was a simple ‘girls day out’ turned out being an excuse to drag Emma with them on wedding dress hunt. And apparently, only a few weeks of engagement were enough to transform Mary Margaret in what Emma could only define as a wedding obsessed monster. She dragged both her and Ruby in shop after shop, for the whole day, discussing flowers arrangements, colors themes and the pros and cons of lace and satin dresses. Yeah, it was that bad, but, truth be told, Emma had never loved shopping much. There needed to be a rare astral conjunction to find her in the mood to go around in the city and browse through piles and piles of clothes in different shops. She was one of those persons that shopped with an aim: she would enter a shop, spot what she needed to buy in a few minutes and head to the cashier to pay.

She had to admit, though, that going wedding dress shopping was another matter altogether. It was a bit overwhelming and intimidating entering those beautiful and sophisticated shops, with all those stunning, immaculate dresses hanging neatly along the walls.

Whereas Emma felt quite out of her element there, Mary Margaret- just like Ruby- seemed unfazed by all that luxury. She was a woman on a mission: find the perfect dress, the one which would make her feel like a princess and everyone else cry. She tried on dress after dress, but she never seemed satisfied. Emma had never thought her friend would be so prickly, and she really couldn’t understand why she had been. Maybe it was because Emma wasn’t exactly made for marriage. But, then again, maybe she was more romantic than she cared to admit, and the thought of spending ages looking for a dress was absolutely crazy to her. What was the point, if the only opinion that would matter was the one of the person you were going to marry, who would find you stunning just in your pjs? Well, it wasn’t luckily she’d ever find out anyway. She was no relationship material, as she made Killian understand the other day.

Killian… Now that she thought about it, when he saw her in only a pair of leggings, his faded batman t-shirt and with a messy bun on top of her head, he gave her the same look he always gave her whenever she walked onstage, all dressed up with perfect hair and makeup. But it wasn’t anything like that with him. He was just her friend - probably her best friend - right?

As she took the last few steps to the door, Emma groaned in frustration. Why did all her thoughts have to lead to him?

She didn’t even have the time to knock, that she heard Killian’s voice coming from right behind her.

“Morning, Emma!” he greeted, stopping next to her, with two cups of steaming coffee in hand.

“Hey! You know you don’t have to bring me hot chocolate - or coffee - every time we have a lesson right?”

“Of course I do, but I want to. And look who’s talking!” He gestured to the package she was holding, “What do you have there, Swan?”

Emma teased him, grinning, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

”Perhaps I would,” he replied with a cheeky smile on his lips and a sinful look in his eyes that made Emma’s cheeks flush pink.

Emma was ready to punch him on the shoulder but then reconsidered it. That coffee smelled divine; it would have been a shame if he dropped it after she'd punched him. So, for the coffee’s sake, she just rolled her eyes at the ceiling and entered the room. As she put the small bag down on the table, she could hear Killian giggle behind her. He followed her and stopped by her side, putting the coffees by whatever she brought that day.

Emma was fidgeting with the package and internally cursing Mary Margaret for closing it in such an overcomplicated way, while Killian watched her in amusement. When she finally managed to open it, she suddenly stopped, catching a movement with the corner of the eye.

“Ah, ah, ah!” She tutted, moving away the bag from Killian, who was trying to sniff its content. “Step away or I’ll eat them both.”

Killian pouted innocently and took a step away. “And what would they be, Swan?”

“Homemade muffins!” Emma beamed, showing him a perfectly crafted chocolate muffin.

Killian took the pastry and eyed it suspiciously, not daring taking even a small bite, making Emma huff in annoyance at his theatrics.

“You didn’t make them do you?” he asked warily.

“What if I did?”

“Then it’d mean I really had underestimated both your wish to see me dead and your cooking abilities.”

While she gently peeled the cup off her muffin, Emma snorted, shaking her head, “Mary Margaret made them. You’re safe.”

Happy with her answer, Killian took a large bite of his muffin as if he’d never seen food in days.

“What did you get me, instead?” Emma asked, eyeing curiously at the two steaming cups next to him.

Killian took her drink and gave it to her. “Why don’t you take a guess?”

Putting the muffin aside, she took the cup and sniffed it, before taking a sip.“Uhm…” she hesitated, ”Cappuccino? With... Chocolate?”

“Nope, but you were close,” he smirked, “It’s a latte macchiato with chocolate.”

“Oh, I like it!”

“Good.”

They drank and ate in silence for a bit, enjoying the feeling of the caffeine starting to kick in. It was just when the only things left of the muffins were only a few crumbs, that Killian broke the silence.

“You know, Emma,” he started, hand moving up to scratch behind his neck, “I think I’ve found the perfect songs for the semifinals. Would you like to take a look at them?”

“Sure.” Emma nodded excitedly.

Smiling at her enthusiasm, he walked up to the piano, and browsed the papers inside the folder laying on the stool for then going back to her. She happily accepted the stack of sheet music he offered her.

“Killian,” Emma gasped as soon as her eyes focused on the songs’ titles, “They are perfect! How did you-?”

“As I’ve told you before, love,” Killian interrupted her with a smirk, “Open book.

Days came and went, busy with work, rehearsals and nonstop wedding talk for her utter and unconditional joy. There wasn’t a single day that went by without an embarrassing amount of texts going back and forth between her and Killian, though. They would talk and talk, but truth be told, they were just goofing around most of the time. He especially liked to send her memes and random weird pictures of animals to tease her, to which she’d reply with either the eye roll emoji or the middle finger one. He sent her so many pictures, that by now she was sure she had at least five pictures of goats saved on her phone - yes he was that much of a dork (and she actually loved it). However, as the time passed, her excitement for the next episode they had to shoot grew more and more.

She loved the song he chose for her. It was perfect, considering everything she had to go through, both lately and in the past. She didn’t have to fish the emotions she wanted to show that deep into her heart; they were just there floating on the surface for her to catch and reel into her voice.

(Wait. Was that a fishing metaphor? Damn girl, your nerves are bad…)

Nerves aside, she was confident in her abilities and determined to win, but only her or Elsa would go to the final, and Emma knew her friend wouldn't go down without a fight. She had heard Elsa sing a couple of times during rehearsals but every contestant, her included, used to conceal themselves a little during group rehearsals. She had heard her audition on telly too, but it was only when Ruby made her watch the show on Monday that she realised how talented Elsa actually was.

When shooting day finally arrived, Emma’s insides were already a ball of jittery energy. A part of her wanted to go knock at Killian’s dressing room door as soon as she got to the studios. As much much as she didn't like to admit it, even just seeing him would have helped her relax, but she couldn't go. She really couldn't. Their relationship had already been much more intimate than what was expected from them; they couldn't be seen hanging around and interacting with each other as they used to. Not there, not ever. If someone were to find out, all hell would break loose. So, Emma disgruntledly willed her feet to walk past the coaches’ dressing rooms and headed to hair and makeup, hoping that a few hours of sitting on a comfy chair while being fussed over would calm her nerves. Elsa was already there too, so, as soon as Emma sat down on her assigned chair next to her, they started talking. However, when Ashley threatened to draw mustaches with waterproof eyeliner on both their faces, they both stopped. Ashley was a sweet girl but it was better not to cross her, so, while Elsa decided to put on her earbuds and listen to some music, Emma focused her attention on Ashley’s movements as she gave the last few touches on her makeup before starting working on a complicated updo.

They were almost ready to go get dressed when she heard Elsa muttering the lyrics of the song she’d sing.

“I'm not gon' care if I sing off key, I find myself in my melodies. I sing for love, I sing for me,”

“I shout it out like a bird set free,” Emma sang with her, making Elsa blush as she realised she had been singing out loud.

“Sorry,” she smiled, taking one of the earbuds off.

“Don’t be,” Emma brushed her off with a smile, “It’s a beautiful song. I think it’s perfect for you.”

“Thank you. I think I’ve got to go get changed now,” Elsa said, taking a quick look at her schedule. “Good luck!”

“Likewise.

It was always hard for him to pretend not to be nervous and excited for his team when shooting, and the uneasiness would only grow when the time for Emma to perform got closer. And today wasn’t an exception. It wasn’t really professional for him, not at all, but he couldn’t help it. She was special, his best friend. The best friend his heart longed for but he didn’t dare make a move on because the timing was not ideal, because he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. Sometimes she would look at him with such love and affection that it made his breath catch in his throat, but then it’d soon be replaced with fear. He couldn't risk it. He'd patiently wait all the time she needed but he wouldn't stop fighting for her. After all, as his brother used to say, a man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets.

Robin was joking around with Tink and Ariel was laughing along as the lights dimmed out, but he wasn’t in the mood to join them. Emma and Elsa were the first to sing and he probably was more nervous than them. The fact that this time around it was Emma’s turn to perform first decisively didn’t help at all, but he was more than confident in her abilities.

From where he was sitting he could see her patiently waiting to climb onstage when announced. Her eyes were closed and her eyebrows knotted in a concentrated frown. As if she sensed the burn of his stare on her, she opened her eyes and smiled at him, nodding as if to say ‘Don’t worry, I got it’. He gave her a soft smile in return just as he heard her name being announced by Belle and the audience go wild. He couldn’t believe he had been so stunned at Emma’s sight in the backstage to not even hear Belle talking.

He followed her with his eyes as she sprinted in the arena, high fiving the people standing next to the short corridor that lead her on the sage. She was radiant, jumping around in excitement and smiling brightly.

She must be enjoying not having to balance on those ridiculously high heels for once, he thought with a chuckle.

Soon, she reached the right side of the stage where a white grand piano was waiting for her. Sitting on the stool after smudging some non existing wrinkles from her navy blue lace dress, she put her hands on the keyboard. A few gold locks which had masterly been left out of the loose chignon on the back of her head, framed her face as she tilted her chin down waiting for the music to start.

The lights dimmed even more, only to leave a single white spotlight illuminating her. It was only when silence fell in the studio that the music began coming from the numerous speakers around the theater. Her voice resounded in the arena soon after, her tone soft and crystal clear as always, while small white sparkles exploded on the screen behind her following the melody coming from her fingers.

He couldn’t help but look at her in wonder - much like everyone else in the theater - as she worked her magic. He was drawn in, placed under a spell as she moved to the refrain. If he thought she had been good at that at the auditions, now it was another thing altogether. Not only did she have much more control on her voice, being now able to modulate it as she pleased, but she could control her emotions better too. She could now channel them into her voice without so much of an effort, avoiding to flow into excess at times. It was a beautiful evolution to watch. She was beautiful to watch.

But I’m only human

And I bleed when I fall down

I’m only human

And I crash and I break down

Your words in my head, knives in my heart

You build me up and then I fall apart

'Cause I’m only human,

As she got closer to the second refrain, the music built in intensity as did the sparkles on the screen. Swiftly, she picked the mic from its stall and got up reaching the center of the stage hitting high note after high note. The stage flashed with white rays of light as she sang, following her voice and the music in a crescendo that lit up the audience. There was all of Emma in there: all the hurt, all the worry, all the battles she had to fight, all the desire to just be Emma.

Then everything went black, except for a single ray of light on the top of Emma’s head. Her voice started back from soft and low to grow in one last crescendo that would lead to the last final high notes, only for it to dye down in a whisper at the end.

Both Tink and Ariel shot up to applaud her as soon as the last feeble echo of her voice resounded in the arena, while Robin clapped slowly pleased and still a bit awestruck. Killian, instead, was grinning proudly at her, clapping along with everyone else. The cheering from the audience was deafening, and Killian could see her cheeks tinging pink as she muttered a thanks. When their eyes met a few moments later she smiled softly, her eyes shining with emotion. Time must had stopped, because the seconds in which they only but looked at each other, lasted an eternity. Their eyes were like magnets, the pull too strong to fight it and try to look down. He hoped he could see the love, the adoration and the pride in his eyes, just as he could see the affection and the adrenaline-induced liveliness in hers. It was only when Belle ushered her backstage to present Elsa’s song that their connection broke.

Elsa got onstage soon after, not looking fazed at all by Emma’s performance. On the contrary, she looked more determined and secure than ever. In fact, she kept up with her teammate more than nicely. She gave everything she had, blowing everyone away with her (until then fairly hidden) talent.

After the second standing ovation of the day, the time for him and the other coaches to vote finally came. It had been hard for all four of them to decide to whom give their point since they all had loved both their performance. Eventually it all ended in a tie, with Robin surprisingly giving his vote to Emma and Killian to Elsa. As soon as he gave his preference though, he saw a flash of hurt and confusion in Emma’s eyes matched by an equally confused and elated expression on Elsa’s face, while boos from the audience echoed in the theater.

Bringing a finger on his lips to ask ask for a moment of silence, he then spoke “I’d like to give an explanation of my vote to you and to everyone else here and watching us. I, as coach to both of you,” he continued, gesturing to Emma and Elsa, “not only got to meet you amazing women, but I also got to see how much you care about this, how much you’ve improved. Tonight both your performances were beyond not only mine, because I know your potential, but everyone else’s expectations. After tonight you both equally deserve to get to the final, and since I couldn’t really find fault in any of your performances, I decided to make you face the audience’s vote next week without any of you having any kind of advantage.”

As he talked, Emma’s expression changed to something undecipherable, and that scared him. She was closing off on him again.

As both Emma and Elsa walked backstage to leave the space to Ariel’s team, he hoped she would understand that he couldn’t give his vote to her again, no matter how much he wanted.

When a last flash of her gold waves disappeared backstage, Killian just prayed she would give him a chance to explain himself when not surrounded by cameras.

#captain swan #cs ff au #cs ff #cs mafia #cs au #my fic #fran against words #serendipitous melody #otp:we'll always find the sun

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swanqueensalad · 2 years

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emma swan + text post meme part ???

#because what else WOULD that slug react to if not emma pinning regina against a wall #swan queen #emma swan text post meme #emma swan text posts #emma swan #ouat text post meme #ouat text posts #ouat #regina mills #sq

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florida3exclamationpoints · 18 days

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ouat text posts: rumple

#once upon a time #ouat #rumplestiltskin #mr. gold #emma swan #dark swan #the dark one #text post meme #ouat text posts #scheduling

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alannacouture · 1 year

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Hey, it’s the truth 🤷‍♀️

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alchemistc · 7 years

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for the fic meme: F, H, Q

F: Oh fuck. Listen, I’m gonna come back to this one because I know I have a massive list of them and I adore them all but I should have gone to sleep hours ago and instead I stayed up watching OJ: Made In America and posted an ask meme. I make good decisions. Anyway expect a random rec of hurt/comfort fics sometime in the nearish future.

H: If I had to explain my style I’d probably go with “break all the rules of writing and storytelling, but try to do it well”. That or “heavy on the dialogue”.

Q: DO I HAVE ANY DISCARDED SCENES/STORYLINES/PROJECTS??? Why are you attacking me like this????

I have upwards of sixty fic drafts sitting on tumblr and another hundred sitting in google docs, about twelve notebooks full of writing, and god knows how many texts to myself (or others) about something I absolutely HAVE TO WRITE but never do. I have novels worth of projects that never see the light of day.

Anyway have a snipped from the second part of “hope smiles from the threshold” that sometime in the next decade I plan to have written through and posted:

He catches sight of that blonde head of hair again somewhere around the middle of his fifth beer, as he’s chasing down his rum - sees a quick glimpse of the curve of a cheek and a flash of bright eyes, distorted by the bottom of the glass, and nearly drops the damn thing in surprise when he lowers it from his lips to take a better look.

Emma Swan.

Apparently this is a trip through melancholy nostalgia he cannot escape.

It’s her - surely it’s her. He’d be a damned lying fool if he couldn’t admit to himself that her smile, the curve of her dimples and the green of her eyes and the jut of her nose weren’t ingrained in his memory far more than he’d like.

Five years and he can still remember the way she’d smiled at him, the way she’d spoken to him, the way she’d watched him like he wasn’t a bumbling fool and a blithering idiot to boot.

She looks like a fucking goddess.

But then, he’s always thought as much. It’s just now his filter is a little less honorable.

She’s seated halfway across the bar, tucked into a booth with a man across from her - though how they managed to poach the table from the group of frat boys who’d been camping for most of the afternoon he can’t be quite sure - sipping a drink as the man talks with wide hand gestures. Her smile is soft but a bit clipped, and Killian, against his better judgement, sets his brooding aside to turn in his seat to watch her better.

He doubts that she remembers him, and even if she did, he’s hardly the same man he was then. He thinks Liam would be ashamed of him now, a far cry from the brother he’d thrown an arm around on the third of January when he wandered past that diner hoping to catch a glimpse of her through the window.

She’s resplendent, now, her face thinned out a bit, her eyes wide and bright against the dulled lights of the bar - he can’t help wondering how her life is, what she’s done for herself, how she’d ended up in New York in the time since he’d met her. How her son has fared in the years gone by.

He’d be almost six, by now, Killian remembers.

The thought of going over there to say hello lingers in his mind. He stays where he is, gulping down another beer, watching her out of the corner of his eye while she charms the man across from her.

He’s wavering towards truly tanked by the time he sees her stand, and the sudden racing of his heart he blames on the rum - his eyes follow the slide of her body out of her seat, lingering for a moment too long on the expanse of exposed leg beneath the frankly ridiculous dress she’s wearing. He remembers five years before, the pull of the beanie over her hair, the thin (too thin) scarf around her neck, the beat up jacket crumpled into a heap beside her, the hole in the finger of one glove sitting on the diner table, and he remembers how unglamorous it all was, and how he’d still had a hard time looking at her straight on for fear of blinding himself.

He catches a glimmer of something strange in her eyes, and has to blink to take in the event occurring before him.

The man is making a run for it.

And Swan is taking chase.

He does it more on instinct than anything else - as the man hurtles around a set of tables, knocking a few drinks to the floor and stumbling through a crowd of women in sparkly dresses, and the bartender shouts something Killian doesn’t quite catch. Killian spins in his seat, leg sliding out just as the man tries to fly by - he stumbles, trips, and makes a gloriously sprawled landing on the floor at Killian’s feet.

He feels a bit of a triumphant pride as the man groans below him, only to be bowled over himself (figuratively, at least) a moment later as Swan comes sliding to a stop right in front of him.

She hasn’t seen him, too focused on the hopefully mildly injured man lying inert on the floor of the bar - a strand of hair has fallen loose from her bun, and he has to resist the urge to reach out and brush it behind her ear.

He’s a fucking idiot, he is.

“Walking out on the check, too, huh bud?” she says, and despite his confusion he drinks in the sight of her, one hand on her hip as she pulls - is that a zip tie? It’s a bloody zip tie - from her purse. “I guess we can add clumsy to the list of your attributes.”

She bends - in sky high heels, no less - to grab at the mans arms, and hauls him to his feet once she’s secured his hands behind his back. Killian fights back a smirk when he sees his handiwork - bloody nose and a grimace that could put even Killian’s worst hangover moods to shame.

Of course Killian’s smirk is still in place when she finally turns her eyes to take a look at him, the words halfway out of her mouth before she’s taken him in. “Thanks for the assist, I really didn’t want to have to run in -.”

“My pleasure, love.”

She blinks, swallows, and her eyes focus more clearly on his face. Killian feels his lips turn up into some semblance of a genuine smile, and it feels a bit uncomfortable on his face, a bit foreign.

“Killian Jones,” she says, and he’s likely reading too much into it, but she sounds a bit breathless.

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