thats right kids i’m doing one of these lmao (i am a Master of graphic design)
hello everyone it’s alice and i hit my first follower goal so here’s my first follow forever lmao ! i remade nearly 2 months ago and now i have all of u beautiful mutuals and i just wanted u to know that i Love and appreciate u all… i sound very soft and honestly i am but enough of me ily all keep up the good work etc etc 💌❤️🌹💫
Hi loves! So 2 weeks passed and I’m back with another part of my long-ass Evak fanfiction recs series, hooray! I never know what else to write here, so I’ll just shut up for now. All the fics can be found under the cut. Happy reading!
As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics. My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”. Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”
Just a little smutty Friends to Lovers (with no pining!) fun for this holiday, dedicated to @swallowedsong for various reasons. Sláinte! (rated M, 3000 words, AO3)
She almost choked on her green beer as her best friend’s feet came up off the ground as the burly, flanneled lumberjack (well, big guy in flannel shirt) at the bar planted a smacking kiss right on those unsuspecting lips. She’d told Killian what would happen if we wore that shirt, but he didn’t listen. Emma’s laughter is lost in the packed pub filled to the brim with St. Patrick’s Day revelers, but she knows Killian hears it, his telltale eyebrow lifting as Paul Bunyan releases him and gives him a jovial pat on the back.
“You had to know that would happen at some point, lad.”
Emma shakes her head at Killian’s seemingly unflappable facade, watching as he shares a big grin and a toast with his kissing buddy at the end of the bar. But as he makes his way back to her she can see the signs of his mild embarrassment in the red glow of his pointy ears to the sheen of sweat at the hollow of his throat.
“Regretting that shirt yet?”
“Why Swan? That was the best kiss I’ve had all night.”
“Sorry Swan, I didn’t just put that cabinet there, it’s been in place since I moved in.”
The leg pressed against his side digs a bit into his ribs and he chuckles, giving his best friend a cocky smirk as she rubs at the back of her head she’s just slammed into his upper cabinet after a too hearty laugh. They’re both a little tipsy, teetering closer over the edge into drunk with each pass of the bottle of rum between them. Said bottle is in his hand now and he twirls the brown liquid around, wondering how many sips they have left and if it’s really a good idea for Emma to be sitting on the counter in her current state.
“Shit, I hear Ruby. Killian, do me a favor?”
Not looking up from the bottle he merely nods, knowing there is very little in the world he won’t agree to do for Emma Swan.
“Eyes up here, sailor, this is important.”
Her green eyes are wide and imploring and his hand wraps around her knee in support of whatever distress has suddenly come over her.
“What is it, love?”
“Ruby is desperate to pair me up and mentioned bringing someone with her tonight for me to meet. I’m really not in the mood. Or interested. Can we…you know…pretend for just a minute…to…you know…”
A cold sweat breaks out beneath his flannel, his heart both breaking and doubling in time at the suggestion of pretending to “you know” with the woman sitting beside him. He’s wanted to “you know” with Emma for longer than he can remember, so it won’t take much on his part to sell the idea. He can’t help but feel lost at her wanting to pretend.
“But Ruby knows we’re just friends, so won’t she smell bullshit a mile away?”
uhm….i really can’t believe that i already hit 500?? and i remade like a week ago?? thank you all so much for following me and making this such an enjoyable place for me to be i love you all so much 💘 i’ve been here since 2010 when will i leave
so i decided to do a follow forever and include all the amazing blogs that i follow, i hope you all have a wonderful day and know how much you all mean to me 💐
☼ - i love you with my whole heart ♡ - favourite blogs that i would sell my soul for 💌 - hover there’s a love letter for you~
As requested by a few of you, here’s a “jealous kiss” ficlet - Modern AU -Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours album is an essential soundtrack to the end of this fic… (1980 words, M rated)
He has to set the pint glass back down on the bar before he crushes it in his grip, each breath he takes becoming measured in an effort to conjure an unaffected facade. It’s too slow tonight, amplifying every interaction, her laugh too loud from her end of the bar. Beyond frustrated with himself, he grabs a dishtowel and wipes at the polished wood before him in hopes that he can rub away this idiotic infatuation with the one woman he can never have. Emma Swan, the lithe blonde with the sharp tongue and impenetrable force field with whom he shares his Wednesday and Thursday night shifts.
He’s half in love with her. Well, maybe more than half.
The tiny hairs along the back of his neck rise and he knows she’s approaching, his own body defying his minutes-old mental edict to relax.
“Hey, can I steal your Goldschläger? I’m all out.”
Not trusting himself to look at her at the moment, he nods and continues to wipe at the nonexistent water rings on the wood with his rag.
“What’s mine is yours love, you know that.”
Cringing at the seriousness tinging the ends of his attempted flirtation, he closes his eyes in wait for her inevitable retort.
“Everything okay with you?”
He forces himself to look over his shoulder, too curious to see if her expression matches what sounds like honest concern in her voice. She’s regarding him with an unexpected softness and he forces a smile to curve his lips.
“Aye, just tired, Swan,” he lies, hoping she won’t press him any further.
Her eyes narrow and then shift to his hand still moving the rag absently over the bar.
“Right…well, I’ll just…”
He watches as she slides behind him to grab the gold flecked cinnamon liqueur on the shelf, her short tank top lifting to reveal a strip of vanilla cream colored skin he longs to know the taste of on his tongue. The confines of his jeans feel suddenly too tight at that errant thought of his many fantasies and he snaps his head back forward, mentally shaking himself at his complete lack of control.
“Hey Killian, you keep rubbing at that same spot, you’re gonna take the polish off.”
Heat burns the tips of his ears at being caught, but he still manages to conjure up a salacious comeback.
“Swan, sometimes it takes a lot of rubbing to really…get into it.”
I didn’t know you snored until a half hour ago but i’m staring at the ceiling fighting the urge to kick you
I’m finally getting back to these bed-sharing prompts! And because writing the last Friends to Lovers with no pining was so fun, here’s another one. ;) (3000 ish words - Rated M, obviously) AO3
“You sure you’re okay with this, Swan?”
“Yeah, no big deal.” Quickly walking past Killian and their one full size bed on her way to the bathroom, she hopes the nonchalance in her voice sounded believable.
It had been a great day. A seriously great day. In what had been an uncharacteristically impulsive decision, Emma had taken Killian up on his offer to come out here with him during Spring Break. She had been just as curious to see the Grand Canyon as to see what it would be like to hang out with her fellow professor outside of the stuffy confines of their day to day life. They’d started out a bit like oil and water when they had first met, his bad boy reputation and constant flirting the exact opposite of her favorite thing. But man, was he persistent. After a few months of sharing an office he’d somehow weaseled his way past a few of her defenses, giving him a well-earned spot on her friend list, a list with very few names. There were other times though, like earlier tonight, with the two of them lying close together beneath a breathtaking blanket of stars, that she wondered if his name was getting closer to finding its way to another list, one she thought she had closed off for new members long ago.
So yeah, she’s perfectly fine sharing a too small bed with Killian Jones, because that isn’t going to be complicated or uncomfortable…not at all. Curse these tiny cabins. As she brushes her teeth she stares at herself in the mirror, taking in the bit of pink on her cheeks from their hours spent hiking in the sun, remembering how they had ached from smiling and laughing at the man on the other side of the bathroom door. God, it really has been a great day. She hopes she doesn’t somehow ruin it by acting weird now. It’s been years since she’s shared a bed with a man for anything other than sex - and sleeping together after that, nope, not on the table. So the idea of just the sleeping is a bit terrifying, even if there isn’t going to be any sex.