ffs how does he look exactly the same two years later

The Price 7/?

Summary: The Swan and Regina seem unconcerned about the possibility of war coming once more to Misthaven. Killian experiments with magic to slightly less disastrous effects than the last time he was left unsupervised.

Chapter List: One/Two/Three/Four/Five/Six


tagging @jadeddiva, @artielu, @wheres-your-rum, @kmomof4, @dreadpirateemma, @the-captains-ayebrows, and @thearmorstaysoff

Chapter Seven

It doesn’t take him long to discover there is tension between the two sorceresses he finds himself stuck with in this derelict castle. He rarely sees them in a room together where whatever conversation they’re having doesn’t devolve to an argument, and even away from each other, they seem eager to point out the faults of the other. The Swan is more civil about it, preferring to sway the conversation elsewhere the moment Regina is brought up, but Regina herself seems to hold no such qualms, and Killian finds himself, more often than not, defending the Swan, regardless of whether or not she should be defended.

It’s strange - Regina has quite clearly known her far longer than Killian, and yet, even the qualities which drive Killian to annoyance on a daily basis, when being dissected by this interloper in the castle, are met with a stubborn wall of resistance.

Regina finds it amusing, and seems to find no issue in teasing the both of them about Killian’s ready defense of all the Swan’s least likeable qualities.

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The Five Stages of Breaking Up With Your Girlfriend

Rating: T

Prompt: If you take requests, can u pls do a riarkle fic where lucas realizes how perfect Farkle and Riley are for each other? – anon

By: Nicole / @srnackle

Word Count: 1339

Warnings: None

Stage I 

They’re in the middle of history class and Lucas can’t look away.

Farkle and Riley are in the front, debating over god knows what and Lucas can’t stop just staring at them. And he doesn’t understand why. He’s usually really great at paying attention in class. Even with his girlfriend of a year in the class with him, he’s always been tuned into Mr. Matthews’s lessons. Yet, for some reason, when it’s both his girlfriend and one of his best friends up on podium, he can’t stop simply studying them. 

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Come back, be here

Childhood friends that keep getting separated and meeting again and again until they realise that maybe – just maybe – they’re meant to always find each other AU.

A/N: Just in time for CS AU Week, though I honestly have no clue what today’s theme is. I’ve just been meaning to write this for a while and thought now was as good a time as any. Based on real life events because of reasons. (Oops?)

And this is when the feeling sinks in,
I don’t want to miss you like this
Come back,
Be here


She is six years old when she meets him for the first time, the boy with eyes bluer than the sky, and a smile that makes her want to hug him tight for some reason she is yet too young to even conceive.

It’s the first grade and it’s the first time Emma starts to believe there might actually be a family in the world who could want her. Her foster father tucks her in every night with a kiss, and her foster mother has a soft voice and kind arms, arms that hold Emma when is afraid of stepping out of the car and into the very scary world of primary school.

She’s never had the ability to make friends easily in her previous group homes, and she really doesn’t want her first real family experience to be overshadowed by any mean kids in her class.

It’s a whole different story, however, for the kids she meets are anything but.

Emma silently sends a thank you up to the sky, towards that bright, tinkling star that must have heard her wish the night prior. And before she even finds Mrs Lucas, the widow who apparently goes by “Granny” and will be teaching her that year, she is greeted by a girl with raven hair and a warm smile, and an excitement to her that grabs Emma by the hair and pulls her towards their classroom.

“Hi I’m Mary Margaret and you’re Emma right?”


“Well Granny told me my job was to find you as soon as you walked into the school and I nearly missed you, do you always walk with your head down like that? Anyway that one right there is our classroom and- oh no, we’re going to be late we should probably run come on, yeah keep walking your seat is the one next to mine on the front and-”

She thinks it more than a little funny how the overly eager girl doesn’t seem to take a breath at any point between introducing herself, rushing Emma into the room and past a few rows of desks, and finally indicating the seat she was supposed to take beside her own.

“Thank you,” Emma breathes out a little overwhelmed as she sits beside Mary Margaret, Granny shortly after introducing her to her classmates with a reassuring hand on her shoulder and a smile.

She takes a deep breath before turning around to glance at the other kids, and that’s when she sees him.

A mop of jet black hair moves up to reveal the brightest eyes Emma has ever seen sitting in the desk right behind hers, and she has no idea why, but when he blinks a few times and beams at her, she just-

Her mouth is suddenly dry, and she doesn’t even know if he heard her muttered hi until his smile somehow grows wider. He replies with a hello that takes her breath away before he even tells her his name is Killian. Something about the way he speaks sounds very different than anyone else she’s ever heard talking, and she’s about to ask him why that is when she hears Granny clearing her throat. She gives him a shy smile before turning around in her seat and realising with reddening cheeks that she had probably spent too much time staring at him, all mouth agape and wide eyes, instead of paying attention to the teacher’s words.

Emma doesn’t know it yet, but it’s an innocent mistake she will find herself helplessly making again and again as she grows closer to the boy who sits behind her in class and makes her feel so… happy when she’s around him.

Having never formed solid friendships before, Emma will guess she is finally learning what it feels like when you have real friends.

(She’s not entirely wrong, but she’s not completely right either.)

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sinner, sinner

as the culmination of my fall, not from heaven but directly ass first into the lucifer/deckerstar trashcan, i give you what i had a desperate, desperate need for: smut. yes, children, it is explicit. enjoy.

The first thing Chloe notices, as she advances into the dim penthouse with gun in one hand and flashlight in the other, just waiting for something to jump out at her from behind the glass rack, is the strange red haze in the air. She assumes it must be one of Lucifer’s mood lights – maybe he’s just trying out new design options, though this place always feels more like an exclusive VIP lounge to her than one where anyone actually lives. That’s probably the point. He orbits through this gilded birdcage, but he doesn’t really stay. Doesn’t settle. Has his personal bar, his piano, his bed with its black silk sheets, the windows that look over downtown Los Angeles for miles. A sea of earthbound stars, splendid and glittering. Just as beautiful and remote and soulless as he is.

Chloe doesn’t see any immediate source for the red glow, which is strange, but not any more than the other things that tend to happen around him. She flicks her flashlight from corner to corner. “Hello?” she shouts. “LAPD! Anyone here, come out where I can see you!”

Still nobody. She reaches for the light switch and hits it, hoping to bring up the usual blue lights – which appear, somewhat belatedly, but still does not disperse the haze. They’re both convinced they saw someone come up here – someone in the crowd at Lux, scampering up the stairs like a fleet dark shadow, and with (supposedly, at any rate) the Mother of Demons on the loose, both of them are a little on edge. Well, Lucifer more than a little. She can see it in his eyes, and the way he’s downright skittish, the one thing Mr. “Bulletproof Abs, Literally” Morningstar never is. His method of dealing with it has been to be even more glib and annoying than usual, as they’ve crisscrossed L.A. in search of leads for a series of strange disappearances. They’ve also encountered a number of beautiful, mysterious women whom Lucifer has been more than happy to tell her that he slept with, and Chloe’s found herself reacting to them a bit, well, strangely. She should be interrogating them coolly and professionally, seeing if they know anything, taking statements, but instead she’s being even shorter than formal police protocol would necessitate. Finding excuses to introduce herself as Lucifer’s partner (business partner, her head corrects her, but the words never quite make it out of her mouth). Putting a hand on his arm, positioning herself next to him, between him and them. If she started suspecting everyone he’s done the nasty with, she’d be at loggerheads with half of Los Angeles, and it’s ridiculous anyway. But nonetheless, no matter how hard she tries to shove it down and switch it off, to get on with what’s in front of them, some small part of her is very well aware of the truth.

Chloe is really fucking jealous.

Now, as she looks from side to side but still doesn’t see anyone or anything moving in the shadows of the apartment, she’s on the verge of deciding it was just a mistake. She’ll put the badge and the gun and the flashlight away and go back downstairs to Lux, tell Lucifer to check his wiring. (He’ll say his wiring is fine, would she like to see?) Or maybe he won’t. He’ll have another beautiful anorexic Slovenian supermodel on his arm (he always has one of those these days) and won’t even spare it a thought. Or spare her a thought, thank her for heading up here to check, gratis. Bring the supermodel up here instead. Tumble her into the black sheets, just like however many others. Chloe will go home, as usual, and try not to think about it.

Or maybe – here’s a thought? – she won’t.

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Can’t start a fire without a spark

Yay, I finally managed to finish one of my thousand WIPs! This one was inspired by this glorious post. Yes, there’s a Veronica Mars reference, but I promise there will be no painful parallels, just fluff. 

Octavia and Clarke have been friends for years, so there’s not a lot either of them can do or say to shock the other. But this time once Clarke has voiced her newest request, Octavia actually goes quiet for several long seconds.

”You need me to do what?“

”I need you to get me a man.“

”For… breakfast? Marriage? Changing a lightbulb?“

”To pretend to be my longterm partner so I can infiltrate my arch-enemy’s study and prove that his methods are flawed.“

“Emerson? That douchebag is still around?”

“And still cashing in on research grants with his highly unethical projects. He needs to be stopped.”

“So of course you’re the one for the job.”

“Well someone has to do it.”

“And now you need a second person with a hero complex to match yours.”

“He could also just be broke. The study’s paid.”

“I have just the guy for you. But if I make him do it, you can’t turn him down.”

“Why, who do you have?”

“You’re not going to like it. But it will be perfect.”

Clarke can practically hear the smirk in her friend’s voice, and dread rises within her.

“You can’t mean….”

“Bellamy!” Octavia shouts excitedly, as if this was a good idea.

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CSJJ Day 20: Right Where We Are

Day 20 of @csjanuaryjoy is my spin on this lovely prompt:  “You’re the one in class who has tattoos all over their arms and piercings and everybody’s scared of you and one day I catch you watching cat videos and doodling in the middle of a lecture and wow you’re a dork” AU.

Word count: 6426 | Rated T

Also on AO3 and FF.net

She notices him on the first day of class.

It’s hard not to, considering she’s late (as usual), and the only seat available is in the middle of the room, right next to his. The professor- Mills, she thinks is her name- pauses in the middle of her sentence when Emma walks in, glancing at the clock and then giving her what could only be described as a death glare for coming in almost ten minutes after class began. Heat colors her cheeks as she mumbles an apology and makes her way toward the empty seat, not paying much attention to the other students around her. She sits down and quietly removes her things from her bag in an attempt to stay inconspicuous, failing when her only pencil rolls off of the desk onto the floor. She stifles a curse as she watches it roll away from her, knowing she’ll only piss her professor off even more if she has to leave her seat to get it.

Emma’s about to get up and go after it anyway- she can’t take any notes without it, and Mills already has several up on the Power Point- when she catches the person beside her sticking out a foot to stop its rolling as they lean down to retrieve it and place it back on her desk. Mumbling a quick “thanks”, she opens her notebook to the first blank page and tries her best to focus on whatever Mills was rambling on about before she came in and interrupted her.

Less than five minutes later, she’s come to the conclusion that paying attention in this class was going to be much harder than she thought. It’s not really a surprise; she has absolutely no interest in Economics, and only signed up for the class in order to fill one of her few remaining gen eds before she graduates at the end of the semester. The rest of the class time is divided between taking lackluster notes and sneaking glances at the pencil returner on her left. Emma tries not to let her gaze linger, only looking long enough to see a head of dark, messy hair that matches his five o’clock shadow, and the cluster of tattoos covering the majority of his right arm. It’s enough to have her intrigued, very intrigued if she’s being honest with herself, but the voice in the back of her head reminds her that there are much more important things to focus on in the middle of a lecture than the mysterious guy in the next seat over.

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Have the times changed?

Alright you all knew this was coming (and again, blame @faeries-everywhere​ ‘cause she inspired this) and technically y’all asked for it so topic of rambling analysis today: Jotaro Kujo and impossibility.

Title inspired by the comment on this post (i know it was a joke but it’s actually a good launchpad LOL)

More below the cut

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Final Fantasy XV Kingsglaive Long Summary & Review [SPOILERS]

I managed to watch the Final Fantasy XV Kingsglaive movie twice so far here in Tokyo, and to put it short, the movie is AMAZING. I went in thinking it was going to be a movie that was visually appealing but with a kind of crappy storyline, but it was anything but that! Here’s my long summary/review of the movie (tons of spoilers ahead)~

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I decided to make a list of my favorite Captain Swan fanfiction I read in 2015. This is the year I really got into the fandom and the year I started reading fanfic for it. So, some of these will have been written before this past year. But 2015 is when I fell in love with them. I’m only including completed works here since this list is massive already, and I’ll do another post with WIPs I love. Some are well-known and others aren’t, and most descriptions are those provided by the author.

My all-time favorite is Halfway by @charmingturkeysandwich. (Rated M.) A multi-chapter modern AU take on Captain Swan that has smut, fluff, angst, friendship, and romance. It’s just so real – the fights, the making up, and the humor are all so true to life. Not to mention my favorite fan depiction of Ruby. I think I’ve read this story four times, and it won’t be the last. (Keisha, you are so great.)

Another fave is Sometimes It Hurts by @captain-k-jones​. (M) It’s a divorce AU, but the angst is delicious and deserved, and the pay-off is so worth it. 

My other completed loves are below the cut.

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No Time to Waste

Brittany’s Time Machine (vol 2) becomes very useful when Blaine finds his soulmate in 2087. He’s 19. Kurt’s 94. 

Warning for suicidal thoughts.

It was easy enough job and Blaine really needed the extra cash. Most of the people in the retirement community were still very independent considering their age and it had less to do with development of modern medicine than with their attitudes towards getting older. Blaine would help them with grocery shopping and such, he’d read to those whose eyesight wasn’t the best anymore and spend time with those whose family was long gone. He enjoyed the stories of the past, and the old people enjoyed his company.

He had been working at St. John’s Home for Elderly for about two months when a new resident was added to his list of daily visits. Kurt Hummel. The name rang a bell but Blaine couldn’t quite place it. Curious, he lost his morning game of chess with Harriet a little quicker than usually and was knocking on Mr. Hummel’s apartment door a slightly earlier than scheduled.

“Come in!”

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anonymous asked:

Outlaw queen: awkward teenage 7 minutes in heaven au!

i had to google seven minutes in heaven in order to write this.

but i will dub this: seven minutes in couples therapy (or the seven longest minutes ever cause wow they talked a lot).


Okay, first things first: Tink is dead once Regina gets out of here - not tv dead-but-if-you-didn’t-see-a-body-could-pop-back-at-any-time dead, actually dead dead.

Second. Yes, fine. It’s true. She did have a crush on him but that was almost three years going on a century ago and who didn’t have a crush on him then? He’d been the new boy in town, complete with sky-blue eyes and that British politeness that’s quite frankly offensive. Every girl in school, if not in the district and the nation, had a crush on Robin Locksley at some point.

(Not to mention some boys, and even Tink back when her friend was still fast and furiously figuring out her sexuality.)

So what. Point is, it doesn’t mean anything. Regina had been fourteen and an idiot.

Oh, and a third thing — “Don’t even think it,” she says out loud as soon as the door is closed behind them, with a tone to tell him in no uncertain terms that he’d better stay on his side of the fence.


“This?” Regina says, waving her hand in the small space between them. “Is not gonna happen.”

“Ah,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets and curling his shoulders in. “I wouldn’t have assumed - I… wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she all but spits back at him.

Robin furrows his brow but makes no comment on that. He looks confused, floored even, by her attitude.

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Boo At The Zoo

I received no less than four messages harassing me about my tags on a Halloween with Ginny Baker post I made, so this is your fault. Credit to the better of two hashtags in this fic goes to @this-too-too-sullied-flesh and credit for Mike feeling things goes to @ohmyohpioneer​. You are both awful people for making this fic happen.

“Tell me why, exactly, I’m doing this Halloween with the Animals thing again?”

“It’s called Boo At the Zoo, Baker, and it’s a goddamn tradition, so you’re gonna grit your teeth and bear it. Do it with a smile on your face.”

The way her lips slide across her teeth is more of a grimace than anything else, but Mike ignores it. Of the two of them, Mike had never expected to be the one who became over enthusiastic about anything, but here they were - half the team wrangled in by Mike’s this-is-not-a-negotiation speech about helping out the community, spending the third weekend of their off season riding a bus to the zoo like a bunch of twelve-year-olds.

Not making it into the post season hadn’t exactly been great for team morale, and usually Mike would walk it off, let everyone stew for a while, but he’d spent the first week off being told by no less than a thousand doctors (Sue him, he exaggerates. It’s his thing. Another one of his things.) one obnoxious fact - his knees are shot, his back is only going to get worse, and if he makes it to forty without surgery they’ll personally name him a miracle of modern medicine. And instead of stewing in that delicious pot of angst and self loathing, Mike had decided to try team building activities instead.

He’s ignoring it. In major denial. Completely unhealthy, what he’s doing, but hey, he actually saw Duarte smile five minutes ago, so at least there’s that.

“Boo At The Zoo. Seriously, old man?”

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Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 75: The Music of the Heart Soulmate Finder, pt. 1

Fluffy Fridays—Chapter 75: The Music of the Heart Soulmate Finder, pt. 1

Pairing:  Captain Swan

Rating: T

Summary:  A series of unrelated, fluffy one shots featuring  Killian Jones and Emma Swan and the relationship that makes us all  swoon. Will contain both canon and AU stories. My contribution to  Operation Rainbow Kisses and Unicorn Stickers (aka, my attempt to drown  out the season 4 finale angst with ridiculous levels of fluff.)

Missed the beginning? ( 1) ( 2) ( 3) ( 4) ( 5) (6) ( 7) ( 8) ( 9) ( 10) ( 11) ( 12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28) (29) (30) (31) (32) (33) (34) (35) (36) (37) (38) (39) (40) (41) (42) (43) (44) (45) (46) (47) (48) (49) (50) (51) (52) (53) (54) (55) (56) (57) (58) (59) (60) (61) (62) (63) (64) (65) (66) (67) (68) (69) (70) (71) (72) (73) (74)

(Tagging a few people who may be interested: @sailormew4 @annaamell @flslp87 @emmateo26 @fleurreads @doracianstormrose @mermaidswans @bethacaciakay @ultraluckycatnd @allfangirlallthetime @effulgentcolors, @ilovemesomekillianjones @kat2609 @brooke-to-broch @missgymgirl @hellomommanerd @galadriel26 @the-lady-of-misthaven @charmingturkeysandwich @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @kimmy46 @snowbellewells @iamanneenigma @daxx04 @lapi-lazuli @nickillian @a-rose-for-a-savior @in-spirational @gillie @manic-pixiefangirl @britishguyslover @ginnyjinxedandhanshotritafirst @nofeels @holmes-a-holic)


CS Genre: soulmate au

Are you lonely?  Tired of the dating scene?  Ready to find your soulmate and settle down?” came the over-excited voice from the TV on the other side of the apartment common room.  “Have I got a deal for you!  For just two easy payments of $19.99, you can be the proud owner of the Music of the Heart Soulmate Finder™!”

“Emma, have you seen this?”  Mary Margaret called from her perch on their sofa.  

“A smarmy infomercial salesman trying to peddle his crap to gullible lonely people?” Emma asked, never taking her eyes from her laptop where she had just picked up a promising lead on her latest skip.  “Yeah, I’ve seen plenty of those.  Thanks.”

Mary Margaret tutted. “Emma, you’re always so distrustful!”

“Yeah, kind of comes with the bail bonds person gig,” Emma said, clicking open another tab on her browser. “Something about going after the scum of the earth on a daily basis kind of makes a person lose her faith in humanity.”

The infomercial droned on, happy couple after happy couple giving their testimonials about how the “Music of the Heart Soulmate Finder” brought them together and changed their lives. Emma rolled her eyes.  Soulmates!  The whole concept was a joke.  There was no such thing as a soulmate.  No such thing as one person designed specifically for you.  

In her experience, even regular, ordinary love was a fairy tale.

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It’s New Year’s Eve, and Emma feels like celebrating with the rest of Storybrooke. Unfortunately, Killian would rather be anywhere but the party. It breaks Emma’s heart when she finds out why. 

(Starts sexy, gets angsty, ends fluffily.)


Her dress is a tiny lace thing, deep red and almost certainly slightly shorter than one would expect a mother of a thirteen-year-old boy to own. Emma bought it on a whim, its color catching her eye as she maneuvered around the crowed department store searching for some last-minute Christmas gifts. The dress, itself, had been priced a little out of her preferred range, but after the year she had just experienced, Emma reasoned she deserved to splurge on herself a bit. Besides, she had thought with a grin, she could easily spin it as some sort of gift for her pirate. He always compliments her when she wears red.

Judging by the way he is placing open-mouthed kisses up the column of her neck, his fingers playing with the hem of the aforementioned dress, her earlier musings were not misplaced.

“We could stay in tonight…” Killian murmurs against her skin, hand and hook nudging her backwards toward the bed, “…begin this new year in a rather pleasurable fashion.”

He cants his hips against hers for emphasis. Pirate.

“I’m sorry, but no.”

Had it been any other night, he might have held sway over her; however, tonight is not any such night, and his argument falls on deaf ears. Ignoring the wave of heat pooling low in her belly, Emma breaks their embrace, earning a strangled whine from Killian. She ducks out of his arms and makes her way to check on her makeup and hair in the mirror, hoping it isn’t too mussed from his ministrations.

“I already promised my parents that we’d make some sort of appearance at the party. They’re starting to complain that we’re spending too much time holed up in here, and not enough time, you know, interacting with the real world.”

As if what they are doing is so wrong. 

(It’s not.)

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killians-dimples  asked:

beyond obsessed with your latest <3

Eep! Thank you! ‘til you see her

  • she meets him mostly by accident - she’s following her father through the village by the docks, weaving this way and that as her fancy strikes her, her father apologizing in her wake as she bumps into vendors and brushes past the villagers, eager and excited by all the new people and things she is seeing
  • killian is twelve, emma ten, and he’s only recently found liam again. emma nearly bowls him over in her rush to look at the flowers on display at a cart he is passing by as he attempts to return to the room above the inn liam has procured for him
  • he’s small, for twelve, too many months scrounging for scraps and unable to properly feed himself, and he knows he’ll bruise as he stumbles backward and into the cart
  • “emma!” - the voice is booming and emma cringes as she spins to stare at her father, eyes wide and careful as she meets her fathers gaze. killian shrinks under the stare as well, hoping he hasn’t made this man angry
  • “apologize to this young man at once,” he says instead, and curls a hand carefully around killian’s shoulder. killian feels all the warmth of fatherly affection in that hand, has the insane urge to hug the man, or something equally ridiculous. ‘emma’ turns to look at him, toeing at the gravel as she tucks her hands behind her back. “sorry i bumped you.”
  • the man hums like he’s not completely satisfied, but lets it go, offers to buy killian a sweetcake from the stall next door, and killian wants to refuse, he does, but the man has already steered killian towards the stall, and emma is already talking beside him, raving about the treat, eyes wide and gestures grand and he is a bit starstruck by her.
  • he doesn’t find out until two weeks later exactly who they are - king david and princess emma, liam says as he bows low, and killian knows he should bow as well but emma is staring at his brother like he’s grown a second head and he laughs instead. this starts emma off, and the two of them share a fit of giggles as king david tells liam his daughter has spoken of nothing but killian jones all week and he’s always been terrible about saying no to anything his daughter wants. a friend, it seems, is what she is aiming for, and killian can’t imagine why, but her laugh is sweet and her eyes are kind and she’s always keen to go on the adventures he only ever talks about. she’ll get him into trouble often, but he can’t say he minds, too much.
  • when liam takes a spot in queen snow’s navy, killian finds himself working in the kitchens of the castle - although working is rather a relative term, as he usually ends up kidnapped by rogue princesses at least once or twice a week.
  • he’s fifteen when he realizes he’s hopelessly in love with this fearless, brave, stubborn girl. 
  • she’s twelve, when she comes to the same conclusion. but she knows he’s cautious, knows he’ll need to think it all over, knows he’ll need some convincing. she doesn’t expect it to take another eight years
  • when she’s seventeen, she tells her mother she means to marry killian, and snow smiles and blinks and eyes her daughter. “and does killian know this?”
  • emma shrugs. “he will when he needs to.”
  • (when he needs to comes two years later, when the delegation from agrabah sails in and prince ali spends a week and a half trying to woo emma - she’ll steal away once she grows bored with him to tell killian all about it, stealing lemoncakes off the counter while she complains about his overtures and his stupid pet names and the abundance of perfumes he wears. still, killian begins to wonder exactly how many princes she will find not to her liking before a dashing one comes along to sweep her off her feet. he finds he doesn’t particularly enjoy thinking about this.)
  • lancelot pulls him aside when he turns twenty, asks killian if he plans on cooking duck for royalty the rest of his life, and slaps him on the back when killian gives him a wide eyed stare. he only drops the sword twice his first day, and when lancelot announces they have a new knight in training the rest of the queensguard merely shrug before they attempt to throttle him into an expert swordsman
  • liam visits the week before her eighteenth birthday, tells him to grow a bloody pair, and laughs at killian for most of an evening as killian bemoans his chances with a princess. “killian, little brother, that girl has had you in her sights for half her life. if you think she won’t have you, you’re dafter than i’d ever imagined.”
  • it’s the ball, that does it. she begs him to be her escort, arranges dancing lessons for him when he mildly panics over agreeing to it, and when she descends the staircase to take his arm the urge to kiss her is nearly more than he can bear.
  • he dances the first two with her, and then loses her to a crowd of enamored men all eager to spend the length of a dance getting to know her. or more likely, the scandalous view of decolletage her corset offers.
  • he pouts half the night, and spends the other half trying to talk himself out of doing something incredibly stupid.
  • he does something stupid
  • no one is surprised
  • except, perhaps emma, who takes his hand with a laugh as he assists her in vaulting over the side of the balcony, helping her untangle her skirts from the bramble once they’ve climbed down the lattice. 
  • “what on earth are we doing, killian?”
  • he kisses her. beneath the stars, with the music drifting out from the balcony above them, his fingers curled along the edge of her jaw, her hand fisting in the lapels of his new jacket, another hand digging into the loose curls of her hair.
  • they break for air only when it seems one of them may faint, and killian stares at emma breathlessly for a few long moments. “i’d like to ask your father permission to court you.”
  • she rolls her eyes.
  • she rolls her eyes, grins like he’s said the most amusing thing he’s ever heard. “killian, i’ve been courting you for years, i hardly think asking permission to reciprocate would do much of anything.
  • he pouts a bit about that, but is far too eager for her kisses to stay mad for long.
  • he asks her to marry him half a year later, and he doesn’t bother asking permission first. he assumes her parents knew long before he did.

There’s so much angst right now, so some fluff?

Emma really hates the holiday season. It’s not just the over the top decorations everywhere, but the general festivity spirit in people – always talking about family and friends and ugh just shut up already.

Nonetheless her friends decided to do a secret Santa thing and she got Whale. Failing to come up with a good gift and Ruby refusing to help as Emma it’s supposed to be your own thought!, Emma found herself standing last in line at Macy’s clutching a stuffed whale toy, a miniature Frankenstein (the man had a freakish obsession with the monster), and a nice but affordable watch just in case Whale failed to get her humor with the stuffed black and white whale toy (plus she was still $10 under the set budget).

Suddenly a push from behind forces Emma to drop the whale and her purse as she manages to balance herself in her sky-high heels.

She hears his accented voice before she sees him, “Apologies, lass”

Seriously” Emma sneers, knowing all too well exactly why men “accidently” push women. She shoves her mascara, a tampon, and the pepper spray she carries back in her purse and whirls around and whoa! A chiseled jaw, well-trimmed scruff, dark hair with a few strands hanging on his forehead, and the deepest blue eyes stare back at her.

So creepy dicks also come in the form of insanely hot men.

She watches as his mouth parts slightly once he takes her in – her blond curls spilling over the swell of her breasts, emerald eyes, one shapely eyebrow ticked in question, and overly-dressed attire for the mall in a tight black leather dress with high maroon heels. His gaze lingers at her chest for a moment before he’s looking back at her, his mouth shuts abruptly once he’s caught staring and he blinks rapidly.

He clears his throat, “Sorry about that, love. I’m afraid it came from behind”

So creepy dicks also come in the form of hot British men.

“Sure whatever” Emma says sarcastically, rolling her eyes. In her line of work as a bails bond person she is accustomed to such behavior everyday.

She catches the moment he realizes she’s accusing him of doing that on purpose and he shakes his head before he opens his mouth to talk –

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summary: 24. forget high school students AU i want a high school teachers AU + 38. Teacher au where all their students ship it. send me a prompt from this list. requested by an Anonymous, and imhookedonadarkswan.

word count: ~ 1,800

rating: o - s for oblivious, stubborn emma swan, the english teacher

a/n: i know you requested this separately, but the anon made a suggestion to do both together, so i did!

He is insufferable, the damn prick.

Killian Jones is the Gym teacher at Storybrooke Highschool in Portland. Emma Swan is the popular English teacher.

It’s not that she hates him for who he is, she hates being around him because of how he acts (there is a difference), and most of the time, he’s sweaty and disgusting (though she sees him work out all the time and teach the teens). There’s a good bit of students in her English classes that always walk in tired but also somewhat energetic because he teaches a period of Gym right before her.

And sometimes with that spare period of his, he drops by her class and waves, winking at her before leaving.

It’s so dumb and ridiculous of him that he spends his time flirting with her or pissing her off, it’s like she’s his target at archery practice or something. (But to be honest, he’s hitting that bulls eye pretty accurately.)

She’s sure his mission is to simply screw with her when he gets the chance. He does, actually, during lunch or after school when all classes have been dismissed and most students have left. In fact, he comes to visit her after all classes are over, students hurriedly exiting her classroom, leaving her wiping off the whiteboard, him wanting to keep her company, or whatever the hell that means.

Emma is observant, she notices the looks that students exchange between her and Killian, but their relationship is strictly professionally with some joking around time to time, it’s never been more than the fact they’re co-workers.

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biancaros3  asked:

Congrats on your milestone!! It's well deserved!! <3 I think #7 on your AU list sounded so cute and very CS, it would be lovely to see this written. :)

Thanks for the prompt, I hope you like what I came up with! The class Emma and Killian have together is inspired by one I took (and hated) last semester…although I unfortunately didn’t meet any hot British men there. Unedited/unbetaed, mistakes are all on yours truly.

Celebrating 500(+) followers on my blog! Pick a prompt from this list and drop it in my ask if you’d like me to write it!

Emma notices him the first day of class.

Saying she’s exhausted is an understatement; she had begrudgingly dragged herself out of bed at six-thirty on a Monday, allowing just enough time to shower, get ready, and stop at the campus coffee shop before coming to American History. 

You would think that as a junior she would have learned to register for classes in advance by now, but of course she’d waited until the last minute and had no choice but to take her required history elective bright and early at eight a.m., three days a week.

She arrives fifteen minutes early and takes a seat in the middle of the room. It’s far back enough that she won’t be a target for the professor to call on, but close enough to the front that she can leave somewhat quickly after class without being stuck behind a long line of students. 

The lack of preparation hasn’t given a chance to find out much about the professor, all she knows is that his name is apparently “R. Gold”, thanks to a glance at the online syllabus the night before. The class size is normal for a gen ed, Emma guesses there’s about eighty of them altogether. She recognizes Elsa’s younger sister and her boyfriend sitting a few rows back, waving when their instructor shows up. 

Mr. Gold (who she quickly learns is much more irritable than any professor should ever be, even on a Monday morning), starts the class precisely at eight, giving out an attendance sheet to be passed around the room while he explains the course guidelines and what they will be studying over the semester.  

It’s ten after eight when the classroom door swings open, Gold shooting a dirty look at the student who’s come in late. One look at his wrinkled shirt and mismatched socks tells Emma he’s clearly overslept as he mumbles an apology and makes his way over to the closest empty seat in the room, which is conveniently beside her. 

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nitavonteese  asked:

Fluffy OQ prompt. Granny calls Robin a 'silver fox'. Regina has to explain the meaning to Robin

Some nights are tougher than others. Some nights she doesn’t want to leave the house, doesn’t want to leave the safety of her kitchen, or her couch, or their bed. Some nights all she can do is curl up under the covers with Robin’s arms around her, listening to his steady heartbeat, reassuring herself that he’s still here. He strokes her hair softly and whispers to her, tales of Roland and Henry on the playground, ancient legends of heroes and victors, or just quiet words of love and encouragement. On those nights, he’s the only reason that she sleeps.

Other nights, she feels stronger. She can venture out into the world without constantly looking for Emma, without remembering how she’d failed her friend. On those nights, she and Robin (and the boys, too) go to Granny’s and sit in a table and talk about small things while fighting over the last of the french fries (Roland always wins). 

It’s one of those nights that the boys clear their plates and turn to her, both making puppy-dog eyes, and beg for dessert. Regina could say no to Henry, had years of practice, but the two of them combined is too much for her. She nods and smiles, and Robin pulls her out of the booth to place the order with Granny. Ruby, of course, is nowhere to be found.

She leans on the counter and Robin loops his arm around her waist, casually, whispering into her ear that sweet treats for the boys can’t compare to the sweetness he expects from her later in the evening. She blushes - the Evil Queen blushes - and swats at his chest. “Stop it,” she says, mock severity in her voice. “People can hear you.”

“Nobody’s listening to us, Regina. Ruby is making out with Whale just outside the front door - they’re all looking at that.”

She peeks over her shoulder, and sure enough, Ruby is pressed up against the window outside the restaurant. “Oh, for God’s sake,” she  mutters under her breath, and Robin laughs and pulls her tighter. 

“I’d be happy to make a public spectacle of you, milady, if you’ll allow it,” he says.

“I will incinerate you on the spot,” she hisses through clenched teeth, and he laughs and ducks down to kiss her on the neck.

She’s leaning into him, enjoying the easy display of affection, her fingers looped through his as he tugs her tighter to him. A throat clearing brings her back to attention, and her head snaps up, almost popping Robin in the face.

“Well, are you two going to just keep making fools of yourselves, or did you want something?” Granny asks, staring at Regina over her glasses.

“Two slices of chocolate cake, and no commentary,” Regina snaps back. Granny rolls her eyes and lifts the glass dome off the cake dish on the counter. She slides two slices across the counter, and Robin reaches out to accept the plates.

“Here you go,” Granny says. “You and the silver fox there enjoy that.” Robin raises his eyebrows at that, and Granny gives him a slow once-over that makes Regina’s temper flare.

“Are you really in a position to be calling anyone a silver anything? You’re what, three hundred years old?” 

Granny shrugs. “I’m old, toots. I’m not dead.” She gives Robin another smile and a wink, and Regina pulls him away. No tip for Granny tonight.

“Silver fox?” Robin asks as they slide into the booth, and Henry chokes on his iced tea. “Is that supposed to be a reference to that cartoon you made me watch?”

Regina shakes her head. “No, it has nothing to do with Disney movies. Roland,” she says, “use your napkin.” She’s not trying to dodge the question, exactly; Roland seems to be getting more frosting on his face than in his mouth, but she’s perfectly happy to distract Robin. Henry knows what she’s doing; he’s grinning at her and kicking her under the table. She kicks him back, hard, and swipes a fingerfull of frosting from his plate.

“So what does it mean?” Robin asks as he takes a napkin to wipe the remains of the frosting off her finger. He gives her a look and bites his lower lip, and she knows that if the boys weren’t present, it wouldn’t be the napkin he used to clean up her hands.

“Nothing,” she says lightly. “It’s just an expression.”

Robin smiles at her, still toying with her fingers. “That’s not fair, Regina. I haven’t been in this world for long. You need to explain things to me.”

“Yeah, Mom,” Henry chips in, “you need to explain things to him.” Roland nods enthusatically, mouth full of cake, and Regina regrets leaving the comfort of her house tonight.

“A silver fox,” she starts, and shakes her head, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding ridiculous, “a silver fox is an good-looking older man. One that younger women…and apparently Granny…are attracted to.”

Henry is laughing so hard at this point that Regina is afraid he’s going to choke to death on his dessert. Robin has a bemused look on his face. “I’m flattered,” he says, “but confused. Just how much older than you does Granny think I am?”

Regina pats her cheeks and gives Robin a winsome smile. “Well, you know, monthly juice cleanse. Does wonders for the skin.”

Ruby has finally come up for air and strolls back into the diner, all of her lipstick completely gone. She wanders over to their table and clears away the dinner plates. “Anything else I can get you?” she asks.

“Not at the moment,” Robin replies, and then smiles at Ruby. “Ruby, love,” he says, “am I a silver fox?”

“The foxiest,” Ruby replies with a wink, and Robin turns to Regina with that same smirk he’s been giving her since the Enchanted Forest, the smirk that says that he knows that she finds him irresistible, even if she wouldn’t dare admit it.

“Just the check, Ruby,” she says drily.”And put your tongue back in your mouth. This fox is spoken for.” He cocks an eyebrow at her and she licks her lips slowly, reveling in the way his eyes follow her tongue. Two can play this game, she thinks, and all of a sudden she can’t wait to get home again. Back to the peace and quiet, back to her bed, back to Robin’s arms around her. But tonight…tonight, she doesn’t want to sleep.