#also Killian is sexy as hell in this scene

[stubblesandwich]

Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade Is there a world you long to see?

Then join in the fight That will give you the right to be free!

#killian jones #captain hook #liam jones #ouat #ouat gifs #killian jones gifs #les miserables #les mis #we all deserve to sing the song of angry men honestly #as a treat #listen this song is organically stuck in my head like once every other month #it never fails to pump me up #and on my last rewatch this scene gave major vibes for this song #so here you go #and now it's stuck in your head as well. Sorry not sorry. #also Killian is sexy as hell in this scene #I said what I said #the anger! #like go off babe #my gifs #tori tries making gifs

[hookedonapirate]

Trick or Treat

A/N: It feels so great to post again. I've been in a writing slump for several weeks now, so I wanted to write something short and sweet to get the writing juices flowing. Thank you @hollyethecurious for your ideas for the premise and @darkcolinodonorgasm for Killian’s costume!

Rated: Teen and up for mature language

“Well, that’s disturbing.” Emma grimaces at the zombie gnome with gnarly teeth, reaching out with dirt and blood covered hands like he's coming out of the ground to get them. Even though it's not real, the graphics are enough to give a kid nightmares.

 “That’s so cool, Mommy!”

 Well, any kid who’s not her seven-year-old son that is. Henry runs down the sidewalk, his oversized hat falling off his head. He’s a ball of energy most days, but tonight, he’s extra energetic, and he hasn’t even had any candy yet.

 “Kid, your hat!” She follows after him, picking up his hat from the winding walkway which is lined with jack-o'-lanterns on each side. But as she passes each one, she’s surprised when she realizes these aren’t just typical jack-o'-lanterns with a mouth, nose and eyes carved into them. No, these are intricately crafted jack-o'-lanterns. One is carved into a haunted house, one is a graveyard full of ghosts, another looks like a skull from afar, but up close, it appears to be carved into long stem mushrooms and grass. Her favorite is the pumpkin carving that mimics a scene from the Nightmare Before Christmas. 

 Like seriously, who has time to carve out all these pumpkins? And why weren’t the Jack-o'-lanterns on display as she had seen at the Night of 1,000 Jack-o'-lanterns at the Chicago Botanic Garden? Whoever carved these has some ridiculous artistic talent. They are also way too into Halloween, because their yard is all decked out. There are games set up on tables in the yard, skeletons and ghosts hanging from the trees and tombstone yard signs all over. 

 As she walks up the steps to the house, fake fog sweeps around her feet, the porch is covered in fake cobwebs with large spiders and the porch railing is lined with decorated jars, “potions”, skulls and other Halloween themed knickknacks. She laughs at the potion bottle labeled, “love potion.” When she reaches the door, which is wide open, a group of kids in cute costumes gathered around waiting for treats, she’s expecting the three looney witches from Hocus Pocus to emerge from the house. 

 When a man in a black top hat, tailcoat and a cane appears through the door with a bowl full of candy, she realizes how wrong she is. 

 Boy, is she wrong.

 Holy shit, he’s gorgeous. His skin looks ghostly white from the makeup on his face and he's wearing a brown curly mustache, but those vivid blue eyes are so very blue, even in the dark and under the hat he’s wearing. She’s afraid those eyes will set her on fire when he looks at her.

 “Trick or treat!” the children chorus. 

 Emma can’t take her eyes off the man as he excitedly hands out candy.

 “I love your costume, lassie,” he compliments a little girl who's wearing an Elsa costume.

 He has an accent? Holy hell.

 The little girl frowns, clearly not understanding what he meant by lassie. “I’m not a dog, I’m Elsa.”

 He chuckles, dropping a candy bar into her pumpkin bucket. “My apologies, Elsa. Please don’t blast me with ice.”

 “Thank you, mister,” she says cheerfully before scurrying down the steps to meet her parents at the end of the walkway. 

 “Trick or treat!”

 The man looks toward the small voice, seeing Henry approaching him. He grins big and wide, which makes him look much creepier than he already looks in his costume. Creepy, but sexy. “Well, hi there. Captain Hook, I presume?”

 Henry nods his head and opens his Halloween sack, using his plastic hook to hold one of the straps.

 “Very nice costume, lad. My favorite one so far.”

 “Thank you. I made it,” Emma boasts with a smile as she steps behind her son, placing the hat on his head. She’s not normally one to brag, but then again bragging doesn’t normally afford her the opportunity to talk to ridiculously handsome strangers.

 The man looks up, and when his eyes finally connect with hers, he completely steals her breath. She was wrong. His smoldering blue eyes don’t set her on fire, but they do make her melt.

 And his heavy stare makes her skin tingle.

 “You made this lovely costume?”

 She waves her hand nonchalantly. “It was easy. Just took a red, long-sleeved shirt, some ribbon and slapped some red felt and white feathers on a straw hat and voila.”

 “Very impressive, lass.” He glances at her shirt briefly before returning his eyes to hers. “Did you also make your costume?” he asks, his eyes dancing with mirth. He must have been referring to her red leather jacket and white t-shirt that reads, “This IS my Halloween costume.”

 Emma laughs. “No, I bought it on Amazon.” 

 “Wow, Mom, check this out! Full-size candy bars!” Henry shouts excitedly when the stranger deposits the candy bar into his sack.

 Emma tears her eyes from this man’s mesmerizing blue ones to see the full-size Snickers bar Henry’s holding out to show her. “Huh, people actually do give out full-size candy bars.” She looks up at the man. “I’m impressed. Let me guess, you also carved those pumpkins, too?” she asks, pointing to the pumpkins in his yard.

 He nods with a small smile. “I did. You’d be amazed by what I can do with these hands,” he says smugly.

 Emma wants to roll her eyes, but she can’t deny she very much wishes to find out exactly what he can do with those hands. Instead, she flashes a sarcastic smirk. “So who are you supposed to be, Jack the Ripper?” 

 He chuckles. “Not quite. I’m a gentleman from the Victorian Era. A devilishly handsome gentleman, may I add.”

 She cocks a brow, laughter bubbling in her throat. “If by a  devilishly handsome gentleman, you mean creepy.”

 He sets down the candy bowl and surprises her when he takes her hand in his and lowers his head, murmuring softly as he looks up at her. “The name’s Killian Jones. And it just so happens, I’m always a gentleman. Not just on Halloween.” His touch sears her skin, then he presses his lips to the back of her hand and it feels like electrical currents are surging through her. Her breath catches, and she’s worried he will notice. Judging by the smirk spreading across her skin, he definitely noticed.

 Emma turns her head, looking for her son, whom she spots in the yard playing games with the other kids, their parents supervising them. “I should get back to my son.”

 This man actually pouts as he releases her hand. And it’s freaking adorable. “I told you my name and yet you haven't told me yours?”

 She bites her bottom lip, contemplating whether she should or not. But then again, what’s the harm? It is a small town, so they’ll probably end up running into each other again at some point. “It’s Emma.”

 He grins, making her heart melt. “Nice to meet you, Emma.”

 “Likewise.” 

 He scratches behind his ear, which makes him look less creepy and even more adorable. “I’ve never seen you before. Are you new in town?”

 “I’m from Chicago.”

 “Well, love, welcome to Storybrooke.”

  Oh. Now he’s calling her love? Can this man get any sexier? Jesus Christ. “Thank you.” She gives him a shy smile and turns to head down the steps.

 “Wait. Before you go, I have a treat for you, too.” 

 She spins around, arching her brow. “Oh, that’s okay. Henry will share some of his candy with me.”

 He chuckles and shakes his head. “This treat is not for kids.”

 Emma gulps. “What kind of treat did you have in mind?” Something salty? Her mind definitely did not go into the gutter there. Okay, it totally did. 

 He heads inside, then returns not a moment later with a caramel apple. 

 “A caramel apple?” She almost sounds disappointed. But she’s definitely not.

 “Aye, but not just any caramel apple. It’s an adult caramel apple. So make sure you don’t share this with your lad.”

 She eyes it suspiciously. “It’s not laced with love potion, is it?”

 He chuckles and leans closer, whispering in her ear. “No. But it is laced with cannabis-infused butter.”

 Emma smirks as she takes the caramel apple. “Wow, you really go all out on Halloween, don’t you?”

 He shrugs. “You should come back around Christmas.”

 “Oh God, you’re not one of those people who goes completely crazy with the Christmas lights and the decorations and Santa and his reindeer on the roof, are you?”

 He shrugs again, donning a smirk. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”

 “Is that an invitation?” Because she's definitely not thinking about inviting him to get high and engage in hot, sweaty sex with her. Not at all.  

 “Perhaps. Do you and your son enjoy hot cocoa and watching Christmas movies in front of a cozy fireplace?”

 She eyes the caramel apple and then glances up at him. “Does Santa enjoy adult cookies with his milk?”

 His grin widens, making her heartbeat skyrocket out of her chest. “Aye, then it’s a date.”

 Emma rolls her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. “Not a date.” She doesn’t like the idea of waiting until Christmas to see him again, though.

 His face clouds with guilt. Sorry, love, I just didn't see a wedding ring on your finger so I assumed-”

 “I'm not married,” she clarifies, her cheeks flushing because of the fact that he was curious enough to check her hand for a ring. “Nor do I have a boyfriend. I'm single.” Very single. She's never been so glad to be single before.

 He sighs in relief, which gives her the courage to say what's on her mind and to thankfully change the subject.

 “You know, adult cookies aren’t just for Christmas...”

 He cocks his brow, and good Lord, she really needs him to stop doing that, because it’s doing things to her breathing and her heart. “No? What other special occasions are they for?”

 She shrugs. “Like a Saturday night, say next week when my parents are taking Henry for the weekend.”

 His eyes flash with something she can only describe as excitement. Or anticipation, maybe? “But still not a date, right?”

 She shakes her head. “Nope, just two adults enjoying their adult cookies.” 

 He laughs. “Okay, I’ll bring the apple cider.”

 “Sounds like a date,” she says accidentally when she had meant to say Sounds like a plan. But she doesn't even bother correcting herself as her cheeks warm with blush. She backs away and manages to rip her eyes from him to turn around and head down the steps. She finds Henry playing a game with the kids and takes his hand, telling him it’s getting late. He leaves with a groan but doesn't make a fuss. 

 As they leave the yard, Emma turns around, getting one last glimpse of the devilishly handsome Victorian gentleman. He winks and smiles at her, making her heart stutter, and she blushes and walks away as she leaves with her son.

  She had doubts when she moved to this small town to start over, but the warm feeling in her chest is telling her perhaps coming to Storybrooke wasn't a bad idea after all.

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading:

@kmomof4 @teamhook @ilovemesomekillianjones @onceuponaprincessworld @artistic-writer @nikkiemms @snowbellewells @donteattheappleshook @itsfabianadocarmo​ @searchingwardrobes​ @melly326​

#cs ff #captain swan #halloween

[the-captains-ayebrows]

Deck the Halls - CSSS 2K19

Getting in just under the wire (it’s still Christmas in my time zone anyway!), but here I am with a fluffy little enemies-to-lovers (ish) one-shot for the amazing and delightful @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ It sounded like you had a rough start to your holidays, dear, but I hope your Christmas has been the merriest! I’m a bit rusty at this writing business, but I do hope you enjoy your gift. 

Rated: G; Word Count: ~2700

~~~~~CSSS2K19~~~~~

“He made cookies, Mary Margaret. Homemade. From scratch. How could I possibly not hate him?”  

Emma glared across the teacher’s lounge at the man in question. Killian Jones. Music teacher, expert classroom decorator and apparently on the short list for the next Great British Bake-off. As she looked back to her best friend for moral support, it occurred to Emma that she’d never before realized a person could sip tea sarcastically.

“You’re right,” Mary Margaret replied. “I mean what next? Caroling through the corridors? Oh wait! He already did that with my Kindergartners, didn’t he?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.” Yes, Killian Jones had in fact led the Storybrooke Prep kindergartners singing merrily through the halls. And yes, it had been absolutely freaking adorable. 

She dunked an admittedly delicious homemade gingerbread man into her coffee, then bit its head off. “I don’t see why he has to be such a show off. It’s not like he can actually win the contest. He doesn’t have his own class, you know? Not really.”

“Maybe he’s just really into Christmas?” Mary Margaret shrugged. “Honestly, I think you may be taking this whole ‘Deck the Halls’ contest a bit too seriously.” 

“Says last year’s winner.”

“Or maybe there’s more to your fixation on Mr. Jones than just this contest?”

“Don’t start. It’s only about the contest. I wanna know what his evil plan is, that’s all.”

Ah, the annual Deck the Halls contest. Every homeroom teacher at Storybrooke was enthusiastically encouraged by the school principal to decorate their classroom door and hallway in festive winter style. The winning teacher’s class got some kind of prize, usually a special field trip. This year, students would be treated to a Polar Express themed ride on Storybrooke’s fully restored historic steam train. The kids could wear their pajamas and drink hot chocolate while they watched the snowy town pass by, and at the end of the ride, they’d get a chance to meet “Santa”. Emma’s fifth graders all seemed to think themselves too grown up for such a thing, but still… A little Christmas magic never hurt anyone.

Mary Margaret finished her tea and gave Emma’s shoulder a maternal pat. “Time to go pick up my little guys from the cafeteria.”

After her friend left, Emma let her gaze drift back to the object of her ire. Mary Margaret was right. Emma was definitely taking the contest too seriously, but that Killian Jones was just so damn infuriating. Ever since he’d transferred - no, swaggered - in from Misthaven Prep, he’d been the bane of her existence. He and his stupidly perfect hair. And his ridiculous flirty comments. And his stupid, ridiculous, unreasonably attractive face. The man may as well have had a banner over his head that read, “I’m sexy and I know it.” 

That was bad enough, but then came the first day of school after Thanksgiving break. Emma walked her class to Mr. Jones’s room for their music lesson to find he’d decorated the entire fine arts hallway to look like a giant gingerbread house with lights, human-sized gingerbread people and enough craft glitter to choke a reindeer. Between that and the caroling and the freaking cookies, how was anyone supposed to compete? 

And Emma really, really wanted to win. She had a competitive streak, sure, but it was more than that. It was-

Oh, crap. He caught her looking. And there he went with the eyes and the smile, and oh god he’s walking over to her. 

“Swan! I noticed you’ve been sampling my goodies. Fancy the flavor?”

Emma bristled. Killian Jones had a unique ability to say perfectly innocent things and somehow make them sound dirty. And also vaguely appealing, but that was beside the point.

“A little bland for my taste,” she lied. “They needed more cinnamon.”

“So the lady likes things a bit spicy. Duly noted.” He grinned at her, eyes alight with mischief. That smile of his was infectious - like the plague, Emma told herself - and she fought against the instinct to return it.

“My spice preferences are none of your business, Jones.” 

“Quite right, Swan.” He glanced downward, seeming appropriately chastised, but it only lasted an instant. He flashed those devilish blue eyes at her again with a wicked smirk to match. “Spicing up your life would be my pleasure, not business at all.”

Emma felt the blush begin to rise up from the back of her neck. It was bad enough that he could make her blush. She sure as heck didn’t want him knowing that.

She managed an unimpressed lift of her eyebrows and muttered something vague about picking up her class, before turning on her heel and exiting the lounge. At a perfectly calm and casual pace, thank you very much. 

—-

Later that afternoon, Emma sat at her desk grading papers. Or rather, sat behind a stack of papers that needed to be graded while staring around her classroom in an attempt to visualize a masterful decorating theme. Ugly Christmas sweater? No, that’d be a hot mess. Frozen? No, Ms. Arendelle the art teacher was already doing that. The Nutcracker? Nope. Mary Margaret won with that one last year. 

A knock on her door shook Emma out of her Grinchy brooding. “Ms. Swan? Can I come in?” Without waiting for a reply, Henry Mills barged in with an anxious smile on his face and a stack of printer paper clutched in his hand. “You said you’d read over my writing sample, remember?”

Emma pushed aside her grading and took the proffered essay. “How’s the scholarship application coming along?”

“The Sisters are doing most of the paperwork for me,” Henry answered. “I just need one more recommendation letter from a teacher and then my essay.”

The “Sisters” meant the nuns who ran the group home where Henry lived. It wasn’t the posh life that most of Henry’s classmates at Storybrooke Prep enjoyed, but the nuns cared deeply for the children in their charge. A better situation at least than Emma ever had during her years in the foster system. 

Emma read through the essay, all about the power of storytelling and how Henry aspired to be an author someday. He was capable of great things, that kid, but he needed the scholarship to pay his tuition so he could continue on at Storybrooke. 

“This is wonderful, Henry. I’m sure the scholarship board will approve you.” 

“Thanks, Ms. Swan.” Henry beamed at her for a moment, then glanced back toward her undecorated door. “Are you going to enter Deck the Halls this year? The judging is on Monday, right?”

Emma narrowed her eyes and leaned toward him as if confiding a secret. “Sure am. I’m just waiting until Monday morning so it’s a surprise.” Yeah, that sounded plausible, right?

Henry nodded, unconvinced. “It’s just that, well, I was really hoping our class could win this year. I’ve never been in a class that won before.” His focus shifted to a chipped spot on the edge of her desk. “I know it’s more for the little kids. I mean, it’s not like I believe in Santa anymore or anything, it’s just…” he picked at the chip making it worse. “The Sisters can’t really afford to take us anywhere, you know? And I thought it might be kind of fun to ride a real steam train and meet Santa just like in The Polar Express.”

He met Emma’s eyes finally. She knew that look. The I-want-to-be-a-part-of-something look. The I-want-to-be-a-regular-kid look. Her heart twinged with the familiarity. That. That right there was why she needed to win this year.

“Don’t worry, Henry. I’ll get you that train ride.”

—-

That Friday after school, Emma hit the local craft store. She bought tinsel and bows, little strings of lights and fake snow spray, garlands and non-breakable plastic ornaments. She even bought a sprig of freeze dried mistletoe for good measure. Come Monday morning, she had every intention of turning her hallway into a winter wonderland. 

As she and Mary Margaret walked to Emma’s classroom Monday morning, their arms laden with shopping bags, it quickly became clear that they were too late. Someone had beaten them to it.

Emma nearly dropped her parcels. “What the hell is this?” 

Wide-eyed, Mary Margaret took a hesitant step toward Emma’s classroom door. “I’d say it’s a train.”

Emma took in the sight before her, the initial shock slowly morphing into anger. Her classroom door had transformed into the front of a huge black steam engine, featuring a smoke stack that nearly reached the ceiling and a cardboard cow catcher protruding out at the bottom. Black duct tape train tracks laid neatly from the door clear to the end of the hallway. Blue butcher paper covered the walls on either side of the door setting a backdrop for a winter forest scene, complete with three dimensional evergreens made from layers upon layers of construction paper and fluffy white batting for snow drifts. Delicate tissue paper snowflakes had been hung painstakingly from the ceiling.

The Polar Express. Someone had turned her classroom - hell, half her hallway - into the Polar Express. It was beautiful. Perfectly executed. Emma hated it. 

She hated it because she didn’t need anyone’s help. She had it under control. Okay, so maybe her craft skills were not in the same league, but she had determination, damn it. Not to mention six bags of tinsel which she now had to shove into her supply closet for next year.

She hated it even more because she had a pretty good idea who the perpetrator was. There were only two teachers in the school capable of that level of Pinterest-worthy crafting, and since Mary Margaret looked as stunned as Emma, that only left Killian Jones. The one thing she couldn’t figure out was why he’d done it. 

“Looks like someone is trying to impress you, Emma,” Mary Margaret said with a sly smile. 

Emma shook her head. She couldn’t deal with her friend’s needling right now. She wanted to storm over to the music room right away and interrogate him, but she knew she needed to cool down first. Rationally, she told herself that the whole reason she became so invested in this silly contest was for Henry’s sake, and these decorations were sure to win. Irrationally, she simply did not want to deal with Killian’s smug, perfect face and whatever double entendre he was sure to throw her way. 

But it bugged her all day. 

Was Jones trying to be some kind of white knight swooping in to save her ass? Well too bad, mister. No one saved Emma but Emma. Did he want two chances to win? That didn’t make sense. As music teacher, he didn’t have a homeroom class so the prize didn’t apply to him. Maybe it was just the bragging rights? That could be. That was way more likely than Mary Margaret’s suggestive suggestion. Wasn’t it? 

She had to stop that train of thought right away before she devolved into the ten year-old mentality of her students and sent him a note: “Do you like me? Check yes or no.” Not that she thought he actually did. Not that she would want him to. It was only a point of curiosity. 

—-

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Emma’s classroom won the Deck the Halls contest. She waved sheepishly at her students as she walked to the front of the school assembly to accept the prize tickets from Principal Hopper, but one look at Henry’s bright smile had her grinning for real. 

As she scanned the crowd, her eyes locked onto another face. Jones’s bright blue eyes met hers with an unreadable expression. Wasn’t this his moment of triumph? Wasn’t he going to claim the glory? She raised her brows in question at him. Was it you? He gave a small nod. Yes. She subtly bobbed her head to the side. Meet me outside. The whole silent conversation only took a couple of seconds. 

After the assembly ended, the students were dismissed for the day. A small group of teachers herded them outside to the bus lanes, but Emma noticed Jones wasn’t among them. Her stomach began to flutter as she ducked out a side door from the cafeteria. She shivered when the crisp December air touched her face and shrugged on her coat, thankful she’d remember to bring it to the assembly with her. Why did she feel nervous? No, she wasn’t nervous, she just wanted answers. Right.

Emma heard the door creak open again, and Jones stepped out clad in a black leather jacket  that couldn’t have been much insulation against the winter chill, but did a marvelous job of framing his broad shoulders and lean torso. He looked… wait, did he look nervous, too? She needed to say something. Anything. Right now.

“What the hell, Jones?” Okay. Solid start. “You hijack my classroom, but you don’t take credit for it. I don’t get it. Did I seem like I needed saving? Because I’ve got news for you, buddy-”

“I didn’t do it for you, Swan,” he interrupted. 

“Then why?”

“I did it for Henry Mills.”

For Henry? Her student? Emma blinked at him, trying to formulate a response to this twist, but all that came out was. “What?”

“I happened to overhear your conversation with him last week. I had written him a letter of recommendation for his scholarship application, and I was bringing it to him when I noticed him going into your classroom. I figured I would wait outside your door until he finished talking to you. I wasn’t eavesdropping exactly, but the door was open.”

“So you heard him talk about why he hoped our class would win. And just what? Took it upon yourself to make that happen?” 

“Aye.” He ducked his head, looking almost shy. “I suppose the lad reminds me a bit of myself. I shan’t go into detail, but suffice to say my childhood was less than idyllic.”

Emma huffed a laugh. “I know the feeling.”

A tiny smile tilted the corner of Killian’s lips. “I thought you might. At any rate, the thing that made my young life bearable was my brother, specifically his insistence that no matter what, we would have a special Christmas. I simply wanted to be able to do the same for young Henry. I apologize if I overstepped, but a bit of Christmas magic never hurt anyone, did it?”

He reached up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck, and that right there did it. The vulnerability of that simple gesture shifted something into place in Emma’s heart. She regarded him for a second longer, looking for any trace that this was an act, but could find none. So, she raised up on her toes, placed her hands on his shoulders and kissed him softly on the lips.

Killian froze at the contact, and Emma was sure she’d made a terrible mistake, but then his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. He returned her kiss with exuberance, smiling against her mouth. Oh, god she’d never in her life been kissed like this. For all the sin his lips usually promised, this kiss held more joy than lust and an almost unbearable sweetness. His smile lingered even as they separated again.

Emma shook her head in a bit of a daze. “Wow, that was…” He seemed to stop breathing, waiting for her to finish the sentence. “-really unprofessional of me. Sorry.” Emma cleared her throat, but saw Killian’s expression droop. He took a step back.

“Of course. You’re right, Swan. That will ne-”

She reached out and touched his arm, halting his retreat.  “No, what I meant to say was, would you maybe want to get a cup of coffee with me sometime?”

No display of Christmas lights could have been brighter than the way his eyes lit up for her, and Emma thought fleetingly that she could get used to basking in that glow.

“Aye, Swan. I’d love to have coffee with you.”

----

On the day of the Polar Express trip, Emma’s class had an extra chaperone along for the ride. Emma served hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and cinnamon, while Killian passed out homemade cookies, and soon even the most blasé fifth graders were filled with Christmas spirit. A little Christmas magic never hurt after all. 

#csss2k19 #cssecretsanta2019 #cs ff #cs christmas fic #cs au ff #whimsicallyenchantedrose

[branlovestowrite]

The Decoy Groom (1/5): A CS Fanfic

I have been absent from the fandom lately, and I woke up this morning with a burning desire to get back in. I miss everyone! To that end, I decided to challenge myself by posting a story I’ve been sitting on for months.

This is loosely (very loosely) based on the movie The Decoy Bride (starring Kelly MacDonald and David Tennant; it’s super cute and highly recommended). Brennan Jones is in this story, and, as it’s a no-magic AU, Tim Omundson will be playing that role.

Title: The Decoy Groom

Rating: M for language and some suggestive scenes in future installments

Summary: After a failed turn as a musician in Los Angeles, Killian Jones has returned to his home: Storybrooke Island, a remote, tiny island off the coast of Maine. Emma Swan is a famous actress that just wants one day out of the spotlight so she can get married. Storybrooke Island, just two miles long and accessible only by ferry, seems like the answer to her prayers. But will she really be able to keep her nuptials a private affair? And can Killian find the solace he craves when there’s a world-famous actress in town?

Also on AO3

Chapter 1

“The wedding is off!” Emma cried out as she stormed into her apartment. She kicked off her black stilettos and combed her fingers through her long blonde hair. Her green eyes narrowed on her fiancé, ready for a fight.

Walsh heaved a sigh and mussed his shaggy brown hair. This was unfortunately something they’d already been through once, and he knew she was not cancelling the event because of anything he’d done. “Who do I have to fire?”

“I don’t know!” she cried. “But someone leaked the location to the press, and now it’s up on TMZ and all the paps are going to be there, and… it’s just ruined! Everything is ruined!”

“Calm down,” Walsh said, putting his hands on her arms. “It’s not ruined.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” Emma growled as she pulled away. She stood with her back turned and rested her forehead in her right hand. She took a few deep, cleansing breaths before turning back around. “I think I’ve been pretty reasonable about this wedding. I agreed to your choices for the venue, the guest list, the menus… The one request I had was that we keep the press OUT. Now I’m not even getting that!” She stomped her foot and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s not totally unreasonable to want this one day of my life to be private, at least for a little while!”

“Emma… come on, think about what you’re saying! You are the most popular movie star in the world! People want to see you get married! And if we would just work with the press instead of against them, we could charge whatever we wanted for exclusive rights. And then that publication will keep the others out. It’s a win-win!”

“No!” Emma cried out. “I have lived my life in the spotlight since I was sixteen! My wedding is going to be private.”

Walsh huffed again and walked to the kitchen. “Fine. You win. The wedding’s off. I’ll call Zelena tomorrow and have her make the cancellations.”

“Thank you,” Emma said, visibly deflating. She followed him to the kitchen and let him encircle her with his arms. “What now?”

“Elope?” Walsh asked. “We could go to Vegas.”

“Hell no. If we’re eloping I want it to be somewhere the press would never think we would go.”

“Some remote island? I could get on board with that. Some private beach in Tahiti?” His brown eyes sparkled with mischief. “We can ditch your big dress and get you a sexy little white bikini.”

Emma pulled away before he could slide his hands any lower. She was not in the mood. “No, there’s always someone with a camera there. We need to go somewhere crazy remote. Some island with less than 100 people where they don’t watch movies and no one knows who we are.”

“Good luck with that. We’re only the most well known couple in Hollywood. Biggest producer. World-famous actress. You’d have to find a place without internet to find somewhere that people don’t know us.”

“It’s got to exist.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Zelena to look into that too.”

“No, don’t,” Emma interjected. “Let me find a place.”

“Are you sure? She’s a wedding planner. This is her thing. She’ll probably know of a place.”

“I want to do this.” She stepped closer and threaded their fingers together. “I’ll find us a beautiful, romantic island where we can have the picture perfect, private, wedding of our dreams. Then we can have a beautiful honeymoon and escape the craziness of this life for a while.”

“Sounds perfect,” Walsh said, but his tone and lack of a smile set off Emma’s lie detector. She knew he’d rather have a flashy Hollywood wedding, but she was adamant on this point. No press. She would find a way. Once they got past this hurdle, their marriage would be perfect, and Emma would finally have the family she’d always wanted.

Killian stepped off the ferry and began the trek toward town. Last time he left, he told himself he’d never be coming back to Storybrooke Island. If only he’d known that he’d be returning three years later with his tail between his legs. He kept his head down and his eyes trained on the pavement as he walked. He’d been fortunate that the ferry driver was new and didn’t know him. And since it was the off season, there wasn’t much foot traffic in town. If he was lucky, he’d be able to traverse the entire two mile walk to the lighthouse at the other end of the island without anyone noticing him.

“Killian Jones! Is that you?”

He groaned before pasting on a smile and turning to face the woman currently running out of her establishment. He’d not even made it a tenth of the way. “Hello Granny.”

“I thought you were leaving us for good? Off to L.A. to make it big with your band. What are you doing back?”

He bowed low before the woman. “You must know that I can never stay away from you for very long, Lady Lucas.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the old woman said, turning her head away from him and waving at him dismissively. She chuffed and turned her head back, her steely blue eyes looking at him skeptically. “You’re here for him aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. I can’t leave him alone.”

“It would serve him right!”

“Regardless of his past misdeeds, he is still my father.”

“You’re too good,” she scoffed.

“I must admit that my motives are not entirely altruistic. I was not as successful as I had hoped I would be. I think it’s time to reevaluate my life and see if there is something more stable I could do to make my name.”

“Well, I forbid you from taking over for him in that lighthouse. You were not meant to waste away the rest of your life there.”

“I’ll take that into consideration,” he said, bowing his head. “I should be going.”

“Tell your father I said hello.” She waved after him.

“Anything else?” he asked, looking back at her with a raised eyebrow.

“That he needs to get off of his sorry ass and come visit me every once in a while!” she yelled, but Killian kept on walking.

He had several similar encounters before finally reaching his destination. When he arrived at the house situated at the foot of the lighthouse, he didn’t bother knocking, but instead simply opened the door and walked inside. It was as if he’d never left. Nothing seemed to change on Storybrooke Island, other than the residents getting a little older every year.

“Killian?” he heard his father yell from the back of the small cottage.

“Aye,” he replied, raising his voice only slightly. Brennan Jones may be getting older, but his hearing was still as sharp as when he was a boy. Killian dropped his suitcase by the door and walked toward the kitchen, finding his father cleaning some fish. His nose crinkled at the pungent smell.

“You’ve been away too long!” Brennan said with a laugh as he spied his son's expression. He rubbed his forearm against the side of his nose and shook his head, his long gray waves shaking loose from the haphazard ponytail he’d secured them with. “Give it a week and you won’t even smell it anymore.”

Killian nodded. “That’s a nice catch there. Where’d you get it?”

“Will has a job on a fishing boat. He gets to purchase them at wholesale price.”

“I see. And where is Will?”

“Out on the boat for another week.”

“And how is Natalie?”

Brennan’s eyes lit up as he smiled. “She’s pregnant! She’s visiting her parents on the mainland while Will’s away, but I’m sure you’ll see her soon.”

Killian forced a smile. Unlike himself, his younger brother had no delusions of grandeur and thus was living a happy existence with his pretty wife, spending their lives on one of the most remote islands in the Northeastern US. It was not a life Killian would have chosen, but after the disappointment of the last three years, he was starting to see the appeal.

He walked over to the sink and began washing his hands. “What can I do?”

“I’ve found it!” Emma said as soon as Walsh answered the phone.

“Found what?”

“The perfect place for our wedding! Storybrooke Island. It’s off the coast of Maine, accessible through only a 90-minute ferry ride or a 30 minute helicopter ride. It has a beautiful church that was built as a replica of one in Ireland. And the best part is, the population is only 60 people!”

“Oh. Sounds… amazing.”

Emma’s mood soured the moment she heard his response. “Can’t you be a little excited for this? You know how much this means to me. There’s no way the press can find us there, and even if they do, they’ll have a hard time getting there in droves. We can have the beautiful, picturesque wedding I’ve always dreamed of.”

“You’re right, gorgeous. If this is what you want, I am happy to do it for you. When do we go?”

“This weekend too soon?”

“No. We can do that. I’ll make sure everything’s cancelled so we can leave Friday. I’ll let Zelena know so she can book the arrangements.”

“No, Elsa’s already taken care of everything. No need for Zelena to trouble herself.”

“Are we bringing anyone with us?”

“Elsa is coming along. The reservation is in her name, and she’ll be my maid of honor and witness. You’ll need to bring someone too. Robin?”

“No, Robin and I had a little falling out. Look, let’s not worry about me. I’m sure someone there can be our second witness. I don’t need anyone else but you.”

“Okay.” Emma breathed a contented sigh. “We’re finally doing this. Are you excited?”

“Hey, babe, listen. I gotta go. We’ll chat more later.”

“Oh… okay. See you tonight?”

“Maybe. I think I’m gonna have a late night again.”

Emma felt her lie detector alarm go off once more, but bit her tongue. “Okay, well, call me and let me know for sure.”

“Will do. Bye babe.”

“Bye…” Emma said, though he’d already hung up.

“Did you hear?” Granny said to Killian one morning a few days after he’d returned.

“Apparently not,” Killian replied.

“Some location scout is coming to check out the old church. They’re thinking about making a movie here. They even went ahead and rented out the place to ‘test the lighting’ or something like that. Could it be anyone you know?”

Killian laughed. “Not likely. LA is a big place, and I didn’t really spent time around the movie crowd.”

“Maybe you should introduce yourself when they’re here. You’re a pretty boy. You could make it in movies.”

“Not sure that’s where I want to focus my efforts.”

“Come on…” Granny teased. “Don’t waste those baby blues. Those are your money makers right there.”

“If I change my mind, I’ll make sure and hire you as my agent.”

“Damn right you will! I’ll ride your coattails all the way off this island!

Stepping off the ferry, Emma was transported back in time. “Wow. It’s so beautiful here! So untouched. Did you see the seals on the beach?”

“Yeah. It’s great,” Walsh said. “Now where is our car?”

“No cars allowed on the island,” Elsa said with a smirk, her crystal blue eyes glancing down at Walsh’s custom-made Italian leather loafers.

“So how do people get around?”

“You’ve got legs,” Emma teased, “start walking.” She stacked her overnight bag on top of the matching rolling suitcase and secured it in place before rolling it alongside as she began the trek. She’d already plotted the course to Granny’s Inn, the only place in town with lodgings for rent. It was a ten minute walk from the ferry. The cool air and calm atmosphere invigorated her. Her hair was pulled up under a beanie and she wore an oversized coat to protect against the chill. There were no cameras around for miles. She was anonymous for the first time in a long time, and finally felt at peace.

They’d only been walking a few minutes when Walsh began to complain. “Can we at least get a golf cart or something?”

Emma stopped and smiled back at him. “You’ve become spoiled. Come on, stretch those legs a little!” She turned her head to look at the beautifully blue sky. “Isn’t this place wonderful?”

Walsh said nothing but continued his trek. They reached Granny’s shortly after, and were surprised to come upon the proprietor herself standing in the yard, talking with a tall, dark haired man with brilliant blue eyes. Emma startled at the sight of him. He was gorgeous! Was he another actor? He was no one she could place, but she felt there was no way this man was simply just an inhabitant of such a secluded island as this.

“Good afternoon,” he said, the lilting tones of his British accent lending further credence to her theory that he was famous. He returned her gaze, and she felt suddenly very warm and exposed. She chastised herself for this sudden attraction to another man. She was here to get married!

Emma quickly broke her stare, and Elsa took her cue and jumped in, discussing their reservation. Granny bid the unfairly attractive man farewell and led them inside to procure keys and show them to their rooms.

Granny’s Inn had four rooms available, and Elsa had rented all of them to reduce any chance that a photographer or anyone else could crash the wedding. She’d engaged a professional wedding photographer that was coming in the morning to sign an ironclad NDA before taking wedding photos. He would not be releasing the photos to anyone other than Elsa. Emma would then review them and select a few to be released to the press at a later date.

The freedom she felt in this remote location could not be overstated. The moment she reached her room, she flopped onto the bed and sighed contentedly.

Killian took a seat in the diner and tried to forget the gorgeous pair of green eyes he'd seen. Although she was bundled up in a beanie and large jacket, he felt like he recognized her from somewhere. He just couldn't place it. Did he perhaps meet her when he was living in L.A.? It was a mystery, but one he hoped to have a chance to puzzle out more.

He was disrupted from his thoughts by a squeal as a blur of brown and red hair tackled him, pinning him to the side of the booth.

“Killian Jones!” The girl cried as she released her hold and permitted him to sit up. “I can't believe you're back!”

“Aye Ruby, I am,” he replied, straightening his clothes. “How are you?”

“In college now,” she said with a smile, bumping shoulders with him. “Not a little girl anymore.” She batted her eyelashes at him. Lashes that framed a striking pair of hazel green eyes. Complimented by smooth, creamy skin and a tall, lithe figure. Ruby Lucas was gorgeous, and she knew it. When he'd last been to the island, she'd been working in the diner and finishing high school online. Now she was a 21 year-old college student, and very clearly hitting on him.

Killian cleared his throat. “What are you studying?”

“I'm still a sophomore, so just working on my prerequisites.”

“And do you still work in the diner?”

She laughed and playfully hit him on the chest. “No way! I live on the mainland now, but when Granny told me you were back, I had to come see for myself. I came over on the ferry this morning.” Her gaze changed from playful to lusty in an instant. “Are you staying upstairs?”

“Ah… no. I'm staying with my father for now.”

“Oh boo,” Ruby said, exaggerating the pout on her lower lip. “I was hoping we could find somewhere to be alone together.” She moved closer and put her hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. “I know you're shy,” she continued, her voice a near whisper. “And I know last time you were here I was a little girl, but I'm not little anymore. I'm a woman, and I know what I want. And, Killian Jones, I want you.” She squeezed his thigh, the tips of her fingers barely grazing his crotch and causing him to jump.

Carefully, he removed her hand from his thigh. “Ruby, you are a beautiful woman, but I just got out of a bad relationship, and I'm not ready to be with anyone else yet.”

“I don't mind being your rebound,” she replied with a giggle. He gave her a wary stare, to which she responded with a full-on laugh. “Killian! Come on! I'm 21 and still in school. I don't want anything serious. But I have had a crush on you for as long as I can remember!” She threw her hands up to emphasize her last point before her eyes took a predatory gleam and she leaned in to whisper once more. “The first time I masturbated, I was thinking of you.” He felt a flare in his cheeks at her words. “I just want to know if you are as good in bed as I imagine.” She rubbed against him, deliberately pushing her breasts into his arm. Killian bit back a groan. “You can deny it all you want, but your body is betraying you.” She glanced down at his pants, where the beginnings of an erection stood out. “I'm here all weekend. You know where to find me.” She slid out of the booth, adjusting her short skirt as she stood, and giving him a glimpse of her lacy black underwear.

Once she was gone, he exhaled a deep breath and took a sip of his coffee, trying to calm down. Had he met a girl like Ruby in L.A., he probably would have gladly taken her up on her offer, even if she was 10 years his junior. But Ruby from Storybrooke Island was different. He'd known her since she was very young, and he saw her in many ways as a little sister. Reflecting on her words now, he felt ashamed for not stopping her sooner. He felt like a dirty old man. He sighed once more and scrubbed his hand down his face, waiting for his hard-on to go down.

Once he felt able to move, he stood and exited the diner, leaving cash on the table for his coffee. He’d suddenly lost his appetite. The entire walk home, he pondered the face of the woman he’d seen outside the inn. He was almost to the lighthouse when it hit him. She was Emma Swan! All thoughts of his encounter with Ruby fled from his mind as he raced inside. He needed to look her up to confirm his suspicion.

He was still staring at his iPad 20 minutes later, not believing his eyes.

“What are you looking at, Killian?”

“Dad!” he jumped, not having heard his father enter the room.

“Who is Emma Swan? She’s quite pretty,” Brennan said.

“She’s an actress, Dad. Surely you’ve heard of her? She was in the ‘Savior’ trilogy. And that thriller about the madman that takes two women hostage. The one where they fight back and have to escape his house of horrors.”

“Never heard of her. It’s not like we have a movie theater here.”

“Well, for some reason, she’s on the island, staying at Granny’s.”

“What would a movie star be doing on Storybrooke Island?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I think maybe she’s getting married in the old church.”

“In the church? But it’s the off season! And I still don’t understand why some Hollywood couple would want to get married here.”

“According to a couple articles I’ve read, she’s canceled her wedding twice because she wants to keep the press out. So it would make sense that she might prefer to come here and have a private ceremony. There’s limited access to the island. It makes for a good hideaway.”

“She’s been trying to escape the press?”

“Aye.”

“I bet they’d pay a lot of money to know that she was here now.”

“What are you going to do, Dad? Are you going to call up TMZ and tell them she’s here?”

“What’s TMZ?”

“Exactly. Let’s leave her be. If she wants a quiet wedding away from the horde, then she should have it.”

“Right…” Brennan trailed off. “I’ll just be off to the kitchen to get started on dinner. How would you like your fish prepared tonight?”

Killian suppressed a groan. After just a few days on the island, he was growing tired of eating fish every night.

Elsa had booked all the rooms at Granny’s Inn, but Emma assumed only two of those four would actually be occupied. So it came as a shock to her that Walsh insisted on staying in a separate room.

“Come on,” she said, standing in the doorway of the room he'd claimed. “This doesn't make any sense. Let's enjoy some quiet time together.”

“I'm really not in the mood,” Walsh grumbled.

“I don't understand, babe. We're getting married tomorrow. Aren't you excited? This is what we wanted.”

“No, Emma!” Walsh snapped. “It's not what I wanted. It's what you wanted. What you've insisted on, even though you know how important this wedding is for my career.”

“Your career?” Emma spat back. “Is that all this relationship is for you? A career move?!” She charged on him and shoved his shoulders. “I thought you loved me?!”

“Shit… that came out wrong. But you know the business we work in! When everyone finds out we ran off to get married in secret, there are going to be a lot of people pissed off that there wasn't a wedding for them to be invited to. People we can't really afford to piss off.”

“Fuck them,” Emma said. “They're not really our friends if they don't understand the importance of this for me.”

“They don't have to understand, Emma. Dammit, don't you see that?! It's not about us. It's about them feeling slighted. And then the next time I need a picture bankrolled, will these people pass me over because I didn't invite them to my wedding?”

“That's ridiculous, Walsh.”

“No, that's business. You're the one being ridiculous! Insisting on a private wedding?! What the fuck are you thinking? You know we don't get to have private lives. That's the trade-off.” He huffed a breath and turned his back to her before muttering something she couldn’t make out.

“What’d you say?”

He turned back to face her. “I said ‘Zelena gets this.’”

“What the hell does Zelena have to do with any of this? She's a wedding planner.” She stepped back and scrutinized him. His face looked suddenly pained, as if he didn’t like her belittling Zelena. Emma suddenly thought back to the past few months. How Walsh was always working late. How he was always speaking to Zelena. He’d volunteered to be the main point of contact for their wedding planner, without any prompting. Emma’d been glad for it at the time as it wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.

“You're sleeping with her, aren't you?”

Walsh stared at her for a full minute before replying. “Stop trying to change the subject.”

“That's not an answer.”

“Emma, come on. Let's not get distracted.”

“No! Lets! Answer me! Are. You. Sleeping. With. Her?”

He groaned fiercely. “Fine! You win. Yes. I've been sleeping with her. She gets this business. She understands. She's not some spoiled starlet who has had no true grip on reality.”

“That's what you really think of me?!” Emma reeled back and punched Walsh in square between the eyes. He doubled over, cradling his head in his hands.

“You stupid bitch!” he cried out, his voice muffled behind his hands.

“What the hell is going on?!” Elsa cried out, charging into the room.

Emma loomed over her fiancé. “Walsh is cheating on me. With our wedding planner!”

“Oh grow up, Emma.” Walsh stood and looked at her, his eyes already blackening and his nose bleeding. He grabbed a tissue from the box on the dresser and wiped away some of the blood. “No one is faithful in Hollywood. She’s just a good fuck.”

“How can you say that?” Emma cried. “I loved you!”

“You’re so naive. It’s part of your charm. You and me, getting married was a business move. It’s going to skyrocket your career and give me even better name recognition. Love wasn’t part of the equation.”

“Get out of here.” Emma bit her cheek to keep her tears from spilling. She had to keep it together until he left. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“Good luck with that, sweetheart,” he sneered. “You won’t be able to step foot on a set without my permission.”

Walsh’s head suddenly snapped back again as Elsa punched him in the chin. “Get the fuck out of here, Walsh,” she said, shaking her hand. “Your chauvinistic bullshit doesn’t fly anymore. Here,” she dug into her pocket and threw a business card at him. “That’s the number for the company that runs the helicopter rides to and from the island. Call them and get the hell away from here before I hit you again and break your jaw.”

He bent down and picked up the card before grabbing his still-packed suitcase and stomping out the door. The second he was gone and Elsa closed the door, Emma broke down in tears.

Tagging a few friends. For those of you I discussed the story with, sorry it’s taken me so long to do something with it!

@flslp87 @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @initiala @jonirobinson64 @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @nerdyhuntress @resident-of-storybrooke @searchingwardrobes @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @snowbellewells @teamhook @thejollyroger-writer @thislassishooked @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @wingedlioness @wyntereyez

#cs ff #cs au #cs fanfic #Captain Swan #captain swan au #the decoy groom #branwrites

[romancenovellife]

Favorite Romantic Comedy Book Series

#1 The Wild Ones Series, by C.M Owens

The Hannah Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Genre: New Adult, contemporary, romantic comedy

This is one of my all time favorite series! Similar to a bag of potato chips, you can’t finish just one you need to binge them all. The world C.M. Owens makes is hilarious and lighthearted. Based in a small town called Tomahawk where life is simple and outsiders rarely visit, the town has gotten used to doing things in a... unique way. In Tomahawk people are ranked by the level of crazy they are, with the 4 craziest families being The Wild Ones. Bizarre rules keep the Wild ones in check. Town wide challenges last for years. Pranks are constantly being pulled. Large disputes are handled in town meetings. and meddling aunts, uncles and siblings are around every corner. This series is guaranteed to have you squirting wine out of your nose. Each book follows a different “wild one” on their journey to find love and normalcy in this crazy town. Full of twists, turns and big gestures, these romance novels are well structured with the story line and dialogue being as much fun to read as the sexy scenes. If you don’t adore the first book then get your noggin checked because somethings not right (jk). If you are like me and can’t get enough. Definitely check out some other books by C.M Owens because they all bring something to the table (most of her other books dip into the paranormal though). Or check out some of the others on this list!

Sample Scene from book #1: *Just for reference, Lilah is our main character and this excerpt is written in her point of view, Killian and Hale are her twin brothers, and Benson is Lilah’s neighbor and best friend*

“Benson!” My shrill scream sounds so foreign and unlike me, as my legs pump like an Olympian again. “Benson!” I squeal again when I hear the boat docking behind me.

 “Get her!” Killian roars.

“Get Back Here Lilah!” Hale shouts, furious. Yeah like that’s going to work. Nope. I run that much harder. The door to Benson’s house swings open just as I hurl myself up the fifteenth step, and I leap into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, and cling to him like a shameless spider monkey. I’m vaguely aware of the fact his hands immediately go to my ass, squeezing it, and I’m also vaguely aware of the fact those dormant girl parts are definitely taking notice. In fact, if it wasn’t for the rebel yell coming from behind me, I’d have to study this a little more intently. 

“What the-” Benson’s words cut off, and his hands leave my ass. 

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll beat the hell out of both of you,” he cautions, turning and depositing me onto the floor.

Ok I don’t want to give any more out, mainly cause I’m scared of getting sued or something. But if this piqued your interest give it a try! Honestly after writing this I think I have to re-read it! 

🔆If I had to pick the 1st and 2nd book are tied for my favorite, but honestly read all 3.🔆

#Thewildones #Bookreview #romancenovel #C.M.owens #comedy #romanticcomedy #bestbookseries #lovestory #smalltown #funny #becomingavincent #goingwilder #wilder #romancenovels #newadult #contemporary #5stars #loveit

[theonceoverthinker]

OUAT Rewatch 4X14 - Enter the Dragon

Sorry for all the delays with these reviews! I’ve really been DRAGON my feet through this whole season, haven’t I? 

...You don’t come here for smart puns, Regina! XD

Anyway, there’s a nice juicy review under the cut!

Main Takeaways

Past

I love how this plays as the evil version of every “young person melts the heart of older person and convinces them to go back to doing what they love” story! While it’s not a parody -- and is in fact played deadly straight -- it’s funny as hell to watch because of that!

It’s kind of weird seeing such vague mentions of Mal’s backstory. All throughout the episode, we hear clues, but are never given anything concrete. I wonder when or even if we ever would’ve gotten a backstory for Mal and Briar Rose.

Present

Wow, I gotta say, considering how DESTROYED Mal was by what Snowing did to her kid, stealing another kid is just horrible (The fact that he’s turned back into August and she may or may not have known that is irrelevant for me since she stealing a son from his father at the end of the day) ! I don’t know if it’s exactly poorly written or not -- a case of extremism turning her into what she hates or mishandling a character who is supposed to be more balanced between being evil and sympathetic. I guess it’s up to interpretation, but given that the there doesn’t get to be a reaction from Marco to Maleficent over the fact considering how big of a deal it is that she reverted a little boy back into being a grown man, I feel forced to say the latter.

This also applies to Regina too, ESPECIALLY considering her conversations with Marco in the last episode and this is more of a problem than I realized. She’s stealing a child, putting him up against three villains, AND disposing any direct means of contact between herself and her backup. And the fact that Rumple reverts him into being August at the end of the episode changes nothing here because that wasn’t an anticipated move. It’s even more distracting given the gravitas of the moment where Emma and Regina try to figure out whether or not to steal him in the first place. Regina says she’s going to protect him and pull out if he’s in danger, but what does she think they’re going to do to him if not threaten his life? Even just the emotional duress of those kind of threats is crazy to do to a kid. And then to drop her phone so he can’t even be tracked? It’s played as this necessary evil, but is never given the payoff to back up what a horrible and reckless thing this was to do. They STOLE his childhood -- what was essentially his happy ending -- and that has to be answered for by ALL involved parties: Maleficent, Regina, and Emma too for ultimately agreeing to this.

This segment has a really interesting theme of not being overly insistent on complete control. Throughout it, Regina insists to her friends that she can handle the Queens of Darkness. Even as the stakes raise, she makes risky and riskier decisions that she says she can manage. This culminates in a horribly risky decision (See above) that, in her insistence in keeping control over the situation and her sureness that she’s right, has Regina abandon her means of getting backup. And this all ends with Regina, forced by her own hand, to relinquish control to Rumple. I think that this is an important lesson for Regina to learn, and while I didn’t like the big decision that she had to make for lack of a proper fallout (I’ll actually discuss in a bit why I choose this episode to take the issue with it), I think the rest of the story is good!

Stream of Consciousness

-Regina, you trying to KILL ME with the cut of that shirt?! Because it is working!

-Damn, Regina is AMAZING at acting evil! XD

-HOW THE FUCK DID YOU CRUSH GLASS?! ARE YOU THE FUCKING HULK? XD

-I love how Regina looks between Mal’s castle and her book like “I’m gonna get my favorite author to sign my book!”

-Wouldn’t someone just win “Don’t Be a Hero” by only saving themselves?

-I love how there were freakin’ BETS on the game! XD

-We got another Henry and Belle scene!!! Tbh, I wish there was a bit more substance here too. Belle ADORES books and this is literally a mystery surrounding a book! Why couldn’t she give him some advice on maybe where to look or just talk about the nature of books! You have two book fans sharing a scene! Why not use that?

-I would KILL to know how Regina’s night of drinking with the Queens of Darkness went! Like, they drank a whole bar! XD

-To be fair, Emma, Regina’s probably not reaching out because she’s hungover as FUCK after DRINKING A WHOLE BAR! XD

-MAL, DRUNK AS FUCK, SINGED A COP CAR! XD WHERE ARE FICS OF THIS! THIS IS THE TRUE SEQUEL TO “THE HANGOVER!” XD

-”Some drinking.” SOME DRINKING? YOU DRANK AND ENTIRE BAR! XD

-I like how Regina’s “pathetic” flame was more of a matter of nervousness than inexperience. It shows that Regina’s learned a lot during her tenure with Rumple while still having a lot of space to grow.

-Maleficent is introduced as a druggie! She literally stabs herself with something that “takes the edge off!” XD

-”You need to remember who you are.” “That Maleficent had a foul temper, and if you insulted her, she’d turn into a dragon and eat your flesh.” Holy hell! My eyes are filled with hearts!

-”Where the hell have you been all night?” I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW THAT AS WELL!

-NOW WHAT KIND OF CRAZINESS HAPPENED IN THE VAULT?! XD

-To be fair, Emma, Regina’s been ROCKING this undercover mission so far.

-This episode is full of sexy, badass people, but this cake is the sexiest thing of all!

-”Well, look at which two survivors found a dinghy together.” ...Rumple, HOW ARE YOU SO BAD AT BEING KILLIAN? IT’S NOT ESPECIALLY HARD AND YET YOU SOMEHOW FAILED AT IT! It’s like trying to pet a puppy and instead doing a handstand! XD

-I love how Storybrooke can appear on a GPS system! Is someone in town just a really good techie or is Google our new God? XD

-”The only magical thing you’ll find here is duct tape.” Accurate! XD

-”You didn’t ask your questions more forcefully.” Oh trust me, she did. It was scary.

-”One little snafu?” YOU WOULD HAVE TO STEAL A CHILD!

-”Break some rules.” YOU ARE STEALING A CHILD!

-A Pirate’s Oath! XD What the hell? Someone’s just looking to cop a feel!

-I love the fact that it is 100% canon that Regina rode on the back of a dragon. Maleficent gave her the best piggyback ride in the UNIVERSE!

-Wait: GOLD HAS A CABIN?

Favorite Dynamic

Rump-illian and Belle. I absolutely love Rump-illian and Belle’s subplot here. Rumple, for better or worse, knows Belle and is exactly slippery enough to forge a story to get the dagger back for himself but also not infallible as to still fail to  discuss things he wasn’t privy to. Major props have to go to Colin. He’s playing Rumple playing Killian and that is AMAZING! His lines and delivery are just awkward enough to capture Rumple’s failure to perfectly capture Killian, but they’re close enough that they could fool someone who’s just getting to be close with Killian like Belle. He’s always a little off center in how he conducts himself, making the reveal something that could feasibly be guessed but also surprise everyone! And the transitions -- the one at the docks the one as he walks into the pawnshop, and the one outside the pawnshop are done so well as to make the whole subplot even better!

Writer

David Goodman and Jerome Schwartz are in charge of today’s episode! So far, they’ve had a perfect season! But...well… Look. This episode isn't bad, but I do wish the present segment had some more polish. Considering that the three people involved in that final decision are all mothers and to not do more with that idea is really distracting in hindsight.

Rating

8/10. I’m torn about whether or not I should punish this episode for what goes down with Pinocchio. This episode is more setup in that regard than payoff and it’s not bad setup. But at the same time, I do have to ask myself if that payoff was ever going to happen and if it wasn’t, then the setup of something that upon inspection is so fucked up. And I do think that the payoff wasn’t intended to come up -- they had to know -- and so I do find fault with this episode for executing this idea in such an irresponsible way. Otherwise though, the storytelling is really good. Everything makes sense, the story’s engaging, the pacing works, the characters are for the most part in line, and the theme of the past segment lines up in a way that’s subtle, yet effective.

Flip My Ship - The Home of All Things “Shippy Goodness”

DRAGON QUEEN - This is my JAM! Look at Regina’s face as Mal enters the room. That is the face of a woman realizing “I am gay for LIFE!” And in the present, could these two flirt any MORE?! <3 Just look at the aspirin scene! Mal and Regina are both letting their guard down (Regina’s being more of a casual spitfire, Mal’s not wearing the jacket and is giving a bit more info), Mal’s helping Regina out a bit, there’s candles everywhere, and there’s a touch of loose tension in the room. It’s enough to make the moment pretty sexy. ALSO, they go on a mission alone and the presentation to it plays out exactly like an impromptu date! This is the BEST! I just love how Regina smiles for Mal. It’s big, but natural and just kind of happy!

Swan Queen - Dude! Emma is so worried about Regina! That panic in her voice is CRAZY and her dedication to having Regina’s back and protecting her really shows how much she cares for Regina! This as some of their best shippy moments by the sheer amount of concern Emma has for her!

Captain Swan - While it doesn’t work exactly, Killian does a really good job assuring Emma that things with Regina will be okay.

Mal/Briar Rose - “What happened to you?” “A Rose. A Briar Rose.” Mal says that line in the same way someone talks about someone who they had a bad breakup with!

-----

Hi!!! Thanks for reading and shout outs to the fine folks at @watchingfairytales and to the lovely @daensarah! See you all next time!

Season 4 Total (121/230)

Writer Scores: Adam and Eddy: (34/60) Jane Espenson: (20/40) David Goodman and Jerome Schwartz: (38/50) Andrew Chambliss: (22/50) Dana Horgan: (6/30) Kalinda Vazquez: (22/40) Scott Nimerfro: (14/30) Tze Chun (8/20)

Operation Rewatch Archives

#ouat #once upon a time #watching fairytales #ouat 4x14 #jenna watches ouat

[killian-whump]

OUAT 3x05: Rewatch Liveblog

Hello, my friends! It is I, Killian-Whump, here with another Rewatch Liveblog.

This one's for episode 3x05, "Good Form" - and let me tell you right now, it might be awhile before you see another one, because it will probably take me 15 years to GIF all of the whump, angst and sexy faces that appear in this episode.

BUT BEFORE THAT HAPPENS!!!

I gotta watch the episode. So let's settle in, click the link below... and do just that.

Looks like we’re starting off this episode with Neal getting thrown in a cage, for all of you who are into that kind of thing.

Normally, I would be one of those people, but I'm not really into Neal... and what the hell is up with these camera angles? Meh. Could be better.

OH GUYS! GUYS! This is the Lost Boy whose face annoys me. I thought he was in S6, but here he is here. Is he maybe in both seasons? I'll have to keep an eye out for him when I get to S6 in my rewatch and spontaneously combust.

Aww, my baby’s having some unexpected feels over there while Emma's talking about her days in the foster system.

Aww, look at him trying to share his feels and connect with another human being on more than a superficial level. Bless him.

Look at him getting shot down because Emma assumes it's just an attempt to get in her pants.

Aaaaaand look at Dave telling him he's nothing but a pirate.

Like I said, I'll be GIFing this shit until sometime in the 2030s.

Oh, look! It's Navy men! What kind of flashback could this be?

Why, that looks like a Naval Officer, someone of good standing, with a jaunty little ponytail and a spry bounce in his step. Who could it-

OH MY GOD YOU GUYS, IT'S HOOK

"Perhaps you mean younger brother." 'I MEANT WHAT I SAID, BITCH'

Ummm.... So... 'Only YOU can navigate us on this hero's journey!' 'Where are we going?' 'BITCH, I CAN'T TELL YOU'

OH GOD, GUYS, THAT BRIGHT SHINING SMILE FULL OF HOPE AND PROMISE T_T It kills me every time I see it. Colin could literally light up a city block in a blackout with that smile of his. We rarely get to see Colin's smile on Hook's face, but he uses it to such great effect right here. Bless.

...and here we are back to angsty, lusty, almost downright creepy staring at Emma XD

WHY IS HE FUCKING LIKE THIS (that’s what she said)

Hahahahaha, Snow. "Thanks for the advice." Like, she literally could not sound less dismissive if she tried. She gives so few fucks about Hook's thoughts, she might as well have walked over there and taken all of his OWN fucks away, as well. 'Nope, sorry, now NO ONE has any fucks for you. Not even you.'

My fucks... Now I have none T_T

I wish someone at the camp had answered WHY Hook had to go with David for more rope with, "You're freaking us all out, actually." XD

"What would you like to yell at me about now, Dave?" I love it when Hook calls him Dave, haha :D

Dave: "But if I do die-" Hook: "WHEN" Hahahahaha, you little shit <3

Aaaaaaaaand a swing and a miss. Dave, that was the absolute lamest attempt at whumping Hook that I have ever seen, AND I HAVE SEEN THEM ALL. Multiple times.

"Mate? Mate!" Umm, try his name? We know you know it. You used it thirty seconds ago.

LOL, I like to think Hook was, like, pouring Rum on Dave's mouth like a five year old trying to feed a sleeping parent or something.

Aww, he plays David so well. Hook: "No, it's too dangerous." Dave: 'Well, now I HAVE to do it.'

Liam, you ass. "Haha! That was close!"

Liam: "Employ the Pegasus!" And all the sailors, who obviously know what the Pegasus is, all spring into action, repeating the order and following it. So they all KNOW what the Pegasus Sail is and how to use it, while Killian, the LIEUTENANT and second in command here, has no fucking clue what's going on, what the Pegasus is, that the ship can fly, or where they’re going.

Regina: "How do we know you're not lying?" Hook: "Oh, you don't." Aaaaaaaaand he is. Hook: "But I'm not." Yes, he is.

Dave's TOTALLY OBVIOUS "goodbye forever beloved family" goodbyes XD

Ah, Liam, you stubborn arse. Listen to the strange demon child. Listen to your brother. Spoiler Alert: He never listens.

Oh, look. It's time for "Conversations with Pan That Are Somehow the Most Homoerotic Thing Ever Put on Television That Aren't Overtly Gay OR Sexual at All."  FYI: If sexual innuendos about Captain Pan bother you, you’re gonna want to skip to the next line break. I’m just saying.

Creepy silhouettes. Darkness. Pan: "Come back and work for me." Work? Is that what we're calling it now? Pan: "Like the old days." TELL US MORE ABOUT THE OLD DAYS. Hook: "I don't miss the old days." Great, but TELL US ABOUT THEM ANYWAY.

BLIP! Sudden Closeness Alert.

"We've known each other a very long time, Killian. We've done business before." TELL US ABOUT IT IN GREAT DETAIL OR ISTG

Pan: "You know me." Pan: *whoooosh* Pan: *appears directly behind Killian* Pan: "I like action." Hook: *closes his eyes* Hook: *licks his lips* Hook: *hangs his head* HE LIKES ACTION BACK THERE. BEHIND YOU. BUTT ACTION. I FUCKING SAID IT. I ain’t taking it back.

Hook: *turns to face Pan* Pan: *moves around to be behind him again* That's... I mean... I don't even have to make the innuendos myself here, do I? IT'S BUTT STUFF. I'M THINKING ABOUT BUTT STUFF.

Pan: "I want to see your hook inside his body." WHY DOES HE FUCKING SAY IT LIKE THAT?!?! Like he's a fucking expert at things he wants to see inside people's bodies.

Get a little closer there, Pan. If you even can.

Oh, sorry. There is literally no way you could possibly get any closer to him without putting your SELF inside his BODY.

AND THEY'RE ALONE. THIS ISN'T NECESSARY. THIS CLOSE TALKING ISN'T NEEDED. NO ONE NEEDS TO WHISPER. IT DOESN'T NEED TO BE HUSH HUSH.

THIS DOESN'T NEED TO BE WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS.

BUT IT IS.

JFC even though I've seen this scene a frankly very embarrassing number of times, EVERY time Pan grabs Killian's flask, I always think he's grabbing something else with that sudden jerking motion. And then he pulls the flask up into the shot and I'm like. "Oh. Oh, that's right."

Pan: "Have a drink." Hook's reaction. GODS ABOVE... Pan: "You know it always helps you think."

AHHHHHHHH and then we see why Pan was whispering, and why he put the flask in Killian's hand just then, because Pan knew Dave was approaching and he wanted Hook to look bad in front of him.

...and for butt reasons. FIGHT ME, BITCHES. You know I’m right.

Yeah.

Yeah, sure.

That fucking plant dripping black shit ominously looks like medicine.

Suuuuuuuuuuuure.

EVEN KILLIAN SAYS IT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE MEDICINE.

"You choose to believe that boy over our King?" Well, to be fair, that boy fucking LIVES there.

Oh, Liam. Liam, listen to your brother. Liam, don't. Liam...

*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

Every. Fucking. Time. I. Watch. This. Episode. He never listens.

Annoying face time again. I wish Regina would just rip his fucking hear-

Oh, there we go. Thanks, boo.

Snow: "The cost can't be this family." Emma: "It won't be." As long as you stop being a judgmental stick in the mud, MOM.

Aww... My baby, giving as wide a berth to the Dreamshade as he can. I love how afraid of it he is. He's so precious.

Ooooh... Swordpoint. This is a much better attempt at whumping our pirate, Dave. I commend you for not giving up after the first try went so poorly.

AHHHHHH and Dave backs him up against the Dreamshade he's so afraid of. LOVE IT.

Oooh, suckerpunch. And Dave's out for the count.

Pan: "Maybe you shouldn't have goaded him into it." LISTEN, YOU JUMPED UP LITTLE SHIT... And Killian just falls right into the trap, just accepting that he's to blame and trying to explain why he did such an awful thing... Oh, my pretty pirate baby T_T

Pan: "Don't leave the island unless you're willing to pay it." Ahhhh, you tricky little devil. You TOLD him, but you didn’t tell him.

Also, remember how Pan said to Baelfire last episode that all the pieces were where he wanted them... I wonder what his purpose was for bringing Killian to the island and setting all this up. He likely knew the resulting cascade of dominoes would bring Killian back... and back again. But why?

Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

(Hint: It's butt stuff.)

Awwww!!! They got the message to Henry!!! :D Yay!!! Success!!!

And they only had to rip a young annoying-faced kid's heart out to do it :)

And now the show would like to rip all of OUR hearts out with a touching scene of brotherly love and agonizing death and beautiful crying faces.

"I will follow you... to the ends of the earth, brother." T_T STOP IT

T_T

T_T

T_T

Damn show.

AWWWWWWWW. He's so cute, suiting up and "bloody hell"ing and pulling a bandana over his face for the task ahead.

Sweet peanut, facing his fears and hacking away at the Dreamshade.

Awww, the way he looks himself over afterwards, and looks soooo relieved that he's emerged unscathed. Such a fraidy cat. I fucking love it <3

"I didn't do it for you, mate." <3

Regina's so sorry she turned to see what was going on back there, lol.

Snow: "I'm not complaining, but what was that-" Snowing: *more kissing* Emma: "Okay, I'M complaining." :D Regina: "What I wouldn't give for another sleeping curse." HAHAHAHA <3

Awwww, Dave giving his future bro and maybe kinda sorta mate some credit. ...and Hook looking so shy and embarrassed by the attention. Bless <3

Oh. Ohhh. Ohoh!!

CS Kiss Time. As kisses go, this is a damn good one, because it has Colin O'Donoghue in it and Hook in it and Killian Jones in it and... it also has Emma grabbing him by his lapels and yanking him to her forcefully and keeping him there until she's damn good and ready to let him go and that speaks to me on a deep, primal level and did I mention that Colin's in this scene?

...and the way he looks so fucking BLOWN AWAY afterwards. Like, that boy's brain is SAUCE right now and I love every second of it. THAT... That is a man who has been kissed within an inch of his life and that is how a man should always look when a Domme lady is done with him :)

"A one-handed pirate with a drinking problem." LISTEN, YOU WALKING COAT HANGER...

By the way, this "Neal's alive and in Neverland!" cliff hanger here goes down in history as one of the lamest ones ever, seeing as Hook ends up telling the secret, like, literally 30 seconds later in show-time.

More Neal in a cage.

Pan: "Hang him up, over there. Next to the other one." Oh, how ominous...

WHO COULD BE IN THE OTHER CAGE?!??! We'll have to wait to find out!!!

Although, thankfully, you all already know... considering it'll be over a decade before I finish GIFing this episode and actually watch the next one... T_T

Pew Pew Pew Peeeeeeeeeeeew

#ouat rewatch #watching fairytales #ouat liveblog #3x05 #oc #kw reviews

[hookedonapirate]

To Play the Game (and win your heart)

Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.

Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.

The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.

Artwork by: @distant-rose

Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.

Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .

Author’s Notes: Thank you @captainswanbigbang​​​ and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.

A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones​​​ for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is.

Thank you @distant-rose​​ for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld​​​ for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook​​​ for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.

There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6

Also available on: AO3 FFnet

Artwork by @distant-rose

Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art Ch 7 Art

Chapter 7: Holding the High Card

~Rule #7: Keep him at bay. On your first date, don’t wear anything too revealing, remain interested yet aloof and never give him more than a peck on the cheek; leave him begging for more. A little mystery drives a man wild.~

“You came home late last night.” Milah folds her arms, scolding her sister as Emma joins her at the breakfast table, clutching a hot cup of coffee.

There’s a drowsy smile on her face as she takes a slow sip of the hot beverage, but apparently Milah is intent on ruining the moment by treating her like a two year old child. She’s staring at Emma with those stern mom eyes, raising a brow. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you? Because you know that is strictly against the—”

“No, of course not!” Emma cries out, defensively. “We were dancing and eating dinner at the country club, that’s all.”

Milah’s expression changes into something more relaxed. “So things are going well, then?” she asks before sipping her orange juice.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I helped with the kids during the tournament and then I entered the date auction to make Hook jealous.”

“And it worked, no doubt?”

Emma nods her reassurance. “Like a charm. One of Hook’s rivals bid on me and almost won before Hook stepped in and completely outbid him.”

To Emma’s relief, Milah smiles with pride. “That’s great, Em.”

Emma unveils more details of last night as Milah constantly questions her decisions.

“You told him you’ve never worked with kids?!”

“What did you say after David questioned your motives?”

“Do we have to worry about this Nolan guy?”

Emma answers the best she can, hoping to ease her sister’s worries. “These people are nice and friendly, and they only care about Hook, but they know they can trust me.”

Milah crosses her arms, furrowing her brows. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. David and I were best friends by the end of the night.”

“Okay, good,” Milah sighs in relief. “So, what’s next?”

“Well, Hook asked me out on a date—a real date—and I said yes this time.”

Milah nods in approval. “And do you know where to?”

“All I know is he wants me to meet him at the Marina.”

“Oooh, so he’s taking you out on his yacht? How romantic,” Milah beams, her eyes dancing with excitement.

“Oh,” Emma utters, feeling stupid. She doesn’t know why on earth she hadn’t thought of that sooner. “Yeah, I suppose he is. He’s taking me tonight before he leaves for Ohio tomorrow.”

“That’s a good sign. He wants to see you before he leaves. Don’t forget—only a kiss on the cheek to—”

“To keep him wanting more, I know,” Emma finishes, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“True, but you’re used to watching the action from the stands. This is your first time riding the bull,” Milah reminds her, “but not literally, of course…” she warns sternly, pointing at her, and Emma blushes at the thought of riding Killian, and—no! She can not think about that… as much fun as Emma knows it would be. She shakes her head, closing her eyes briefly to rid the thoughts. “So, do you know what you’re wearing?” Milah asks, her eyes once again buzzing with excitement.

Emma laughs at her sister’s enthusiasm. “No, not yet.”

“That’s okay, we are going shopping,” Milah chants, clapping her hands.

$*$*$

Emma is cursing herself when she pulls up at the marina as the last traces of daylight make way for the warm, evening air. Her stomach is swarming and tightening with knots, and she inhales a deep breath when she gets out of the vehicle. Her hands are shaking as she tries to hold onto the small clutch in her hand. Why hadn’t she just listened to her sister?

Emma had enjoyed their shopping trip outside of Palm Beach and she had picked out a dress they were both sure would blow Killian away (without looking like a cheap hooker), but Milah had absolutely insisted she not shave her legs.

If you feel like a hairy gorilla you won’t even be tempted to have sex with Hook, Milah had stated while she was pinning up Emma’s hair.

She still can’t understand why Milah was so worried, especially when Emma is only allowed to kiss him on the cheek, for the first date anyway. So, of course, Emma hadn’t listened and she ended up shaving because she’d feel too icky with hairy legs. Plus, the dress is long—it’s a casual, yet formal off the shoulder white and pink floral dress—but it has a high slit, and Emma hates wearing panty hose. So even with sex off the table, there’s still the chance of Killian placing a hand on her knee, and she doesn’t want to take the risk of assuming he would absolutely not be going near her bare legs.

“You didn’t shave your legs, right?” Milah questions, planting her hands on her hips and offering her stern, mom glare as Emma pulls on her black high heels. Her lips are coated in red liquid lipstick per Milah’s request, to ensure Emma won’t be tempted to kiss him (unless she wants it to look like she vampired her date), her dress displays some skin without showing too much, and she’s wearing a pair of cute thongs with penguins on them, a pair she would never want a potential lover to see, but there is no way in hell she is going on this date with unshaven legs. “No, of course I didn’t,” she fibs. Once she gets the stilettos on, Milah hands Emma her shawl and clutch. “Good, because we wouldn’t want you to even be tempted to engage in anything more than a kiss on the cheek.“ Emma sighs and rolls her eyes, tilting her head. “You wanna feel up my legs for proof? While you’re at it you can frisk me too, to make sure I’m not wearing sexy lingerie under the dress instead of granny panties.” Milah flashes a sarcastic smirk, throwing the shawl around Emma’s shoulders and securing it in place. “That’s okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Emma shrugs. “Probably a good thing,” she begins, gracing her sister with a devilish smirk as she grabs her keys from the small end table next to the sofa, “cause I’m not wearing anything under the dress.” Milah throws her a deadly stare, tightening her jaw, and Emma laughs and shakes her head. “I’m messing with you, jeez.” She turns around, opening the door as she looks back at Milah. “I’m wearing a garter belt, so Hook at least has something to pull off of me,” she teases, clutching onto the knob as she starts to step out of the apartment, but not without casually adding, “or to leave on and grab onto—whichever he prefers.” With that, Emma moves quickly, shutting the door behind her before Milah has a chance to throw something at her.

As soon as Emma sees him, she immediately regrets her decision. This man is hot and dripping with sex, it’s really unfair. He’s wearing a burgundy waistcoat and a black shirt, exposing a provocative amount of chest hair, and a pair of black dress pants. His hair is artfully mused, and Emma’s thinking about all the things she wants to do to him. His thick, dark hair would be great for pulling, his bottom lip looks soft enough to kiss and bite, that vest looks somewhat difficult to get off (but possible), and those pants would look even better dropped around his ankles.

Her musings are quickly interrupted when he approaches, and her eyes snap to his face, catching the smoldering smirk plastered on his lips. He lifts a brow, his eyes spanning up and down her body at least three times, taking in everything she’s offering him without shame. She’s glad she’s not the only one appreciating the view in front of them.

“You look absolutely ravishing, Emma,” he says sincerely, taking her hand and placing a prolonged kiss to her skin.

Emma melts at the contact; his lips feel as soft as they look, and she’s reconsidering the possibility of him seeing her penguin panties. “And you look very handsome.” Emma blushes, feeling the tingling sensation still lingering on the spot he’d kissed; her entire body is alight from the warmness of his lips.

“Thank you, love.” Killian’s smiling shyly as he moves his other hand from behind his back, presenting her with a bouquet of freshly cut pink, purple and white roses.

Emma graces him with a soft smile and takes the flowers. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, love,” he murmurs, offering a wink and his arm. “Our table’s waiting for us. Shall we?”

Emma wraps her fingers around his arm and lets him lead the way towards the pier as she lifts the roses to her nose, smelling them appreciatively. “The roses are beautiful.”

“Aye, they are, but they don’t hold a candle to you.”

Emma laughs. “Do you always use that line on women you date?”

“Are you implying that we’re dating now?” Killian asks with a subtle smirk as those damn blue eyes sparkle in the moonlight.

“There you go again, avoiding an answer by replying to my question with another question,” Emma teases, rolling her eyes.

Killian shrugs casually, “And there you go again, pointing out my quirks just to avoid answering my questions.”

“Well, we could go at this all night, so I will answer your question—I thought the agreement was if dating is still not my thing by the end of the night, I don’t have to go on another one with you.”

“I don’t recall using those words exactly. I said I wouldn’t ask you again,” he clarifies with a flirty lift of his brow. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still ask me.”

Emma laughs, her cheeks flushing with red. “You are nothing if not persistent.”

“That I am,” he agrees proudly.

Emma shakes her head and can’t stop the blossoming smile from gracing her lips. “I’ll tell you what, if you play your cards right, the possibilities are endless,” she promises, running her free hand over his chest.

“Fair enough,” he chuckles, his cheeks painted with blush.

As they near the water, Emma’s pretty certain they’ll be going into one of the restaurants around the area because as her eyes fall over the variety of moored boats and yachts, his is nowhere to be seen.

“Here’s our table.”

Apparently she’s not looking in the right direction because when she lifts her gaze, following his line of sight, her eyes land on his yacht.

Her mouth falls open in awe as she watches the majestic vessel glide across the water. She’s seen it before in broad daylight, but she hasn’t seen it at night all lit up, blue lights from the bottom of the boat illuminating the surface of the water.

“This is where we’ll be eating?”

“Aye, just the two of us.”

They step aboard when the yacht reaches the dock, and Killian leads her to the cockpit where there’s a dark haired man at the controls. “Emma, this is Smee. He will be navigating the yacht this evening.”

“Nice to meet you, m'lady,” he greets politely, his voice big and hearty as he shakes her hand. He’s even dressed in a white Naval uniform, and Emma can’t help the big smile blooming over her lips.

“You too.”

Killian gives her a tour of the yacht, the place he uses as an escape from everything else, and when they step onto the deck, there’s a romantic table set for two, lit candles, champagne and a string quartet playing violins. It reminds her of the ballroom, but this is a much more intimate setting and there are far less people.

“This is like our own personal cruise,” Emma remarks as Killian pulls out a chair for her.

“You could say that. But no worries, we’ll be back before the evening’s over.”

Emma takes the offered seat as he sits across from her. “You mean you’re not going to kidnap me and steal me away?” she teases playfully.

Killian lifts a quirky brow, smirking at her. “Don’t tempt me, darling. The idea of keeping you all to myself is quite appealing.”

A pleasant shiver skates down her spine under his burning stare as he grabs the champagne bottle. Emma has a feeling that going away with him wouldn’t be the worst idea ever.

“Would you like some champagne, love?”

Emma thinks about the question, knowing if Milah were there looking over her shoulder, she’d be telling her no, and that alcohol inhibits one’s ability to make good decisions. Last night was different because they were in a room full of people, but now they’re on the ocean with only a few others on board who are most likely being paid to give them privacy. But Emma decides she wants the evening to play out it’s natural course. “Sure, I’ll take some.”

Killian pours them both some of the bubbly liquid and lifts the covers from the platters of food, which he tells her he made himself. It’s seafood, which Emma has never really tried before, but once she tastes the shrimp and parmesan crusted Tilapia, she easily decides it’s delicious.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had fish before, love.”

Emma shrugs. “Well, I grew up in foster homes, so if I wanted fish, I had to catch it from the creek, gut it and cook it myself. And it certainly would not have tasted anything like this,” Emma states, taking another bite. The texture is soft and practically melts on her tongue.

Killian’s eyes flicker with guilt, his features falling in regret, and Emma swallows her food down quickly. Why did she have to bring up her dreary childhood?

“I hope you don’t mind all this. I just wanted to…” He pauses and she looks into his eyes, trying to read what he is thinking. “I’m not the type of person who likes to rub their wealth in other’s faces, I just wanted you to have a special evening.”

Emma takes his hand from over the table, soothing his knuckles with her thumb to ease his worries. “I didn’t think that at all about you. This is very special. No guy’s ever went all out for me before.” She really should not be surprised her first date with Killian is an enchanting one, if the previous evening was any indication. “If I could have dreamt up the perfect first date, this is better—way better—so thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” Killian offers a small smile and brings her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

They change the subject and finish the rest of their dinner before moving on to dessert, talking and laughing under the stars.

Taking their champagne glasses with them, they eventually move to the patio sofa, gazing out across the ocean, and watching the flecks of white reflecting over the vast waters.

“I’m sorry if I dampened the mood earlier, talking about my depressing childhood,” Emma apologizes as he wraps an arm around her shoulder. “I’ve never done this whole dating thing before, so I’m not very good at it.”

“You’re better than you think, love,” he assures, reaching over to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Emma gives him a feeble smile, but she’s still doubtful.

“If it makes you feel better, I don’t do this very often, so I don’t have much to compare it to.”

Emma lifts a brow, surprised by this. “You don’t go on a lot of dates?”

Killian shakes his head, looking down. “No, in fact I’ve never taken a woman on my yacht before.”

At that she has to laugh. “You’re joking, right?”

He lifts his eyes again, the intensity of his stare stealing her breath away. “Afraid not, love. I travel a lot, and when I am here in Palm Beach, the relationships I’ve been in have been short-lived.”

Emma takes a sip of her champagne, mulling on that thought for a moment. If those women left shortly after the relationship began, then they must have been scared off somehow. “Let me guess, David always weeds them out with his big brother speeches?”

Killian lets out a small laugh, nodding his head. “Some of them, but I’m normally good at judging if a woman is after me for my money… or if they’re only after me.”

Emma gulps thickly, wondering if he’s ever suspected her of this since they’ve met. “Have any of them been the latter?”

Killian’s stare pierces directly into her soul, and Emma can see the answer buried in his deep blues. She can see the pain he keeps hidden there, and it makes her heart ache. “No, they haven’t.” Killian takes her hand in his, resting both over her crossed leg. “Not until now.”

Emma’s heart flutters… at first. She can’t believe this man has poured so much trust into her already. She can’t believe someone like him actually likes her this much. She can’t believe any woman would not want the entire package that is Killian Jones. She can’t believe this man, this perfect man who is sweet and generous and rich—oh yeah, she can believe he would attract women who are only after his money, because she is one of them. Emma’s heart tightens. How can she do this to such a wonderful man? “I don’t know about that,” she mumbles quietly, her eyes dropping to their joined hands.

“What do you mean?” he inquires, soothing her thumb with the pad of his.

She looks up at him, a smile curving her lips. “I mean… there are many qualities about you to appreciate. You’re generous, you’re great with kids, you’re kind and you have a huge heart. You also know how to dance,” she adds with a laugh. “Is there anyone more perfect than you?”

Killian blushes, scratching behind his ear. “I wouldn’t say I’m perfect. Having a huge heart is not always a good thing.”

Her features fall at the sadness in his tone. “How so?”

“Because, I often leave my heart on my sleeve. Everything I do, I put my whole heart into. I don’t do things half-ass, if you couldn’t already sense that,” he chuckles.

Emma squeezes his hand, offering a frail smile. “Sounds like a good way to get your heart broken.”

“Aye, it is. So, I have to protect myself somehow, which usually means a lot of lonely nights.”

“Believe me, if there’s anyone who knows how to protect their heart, it’s me.”

Killian’s eyes flash with comprehension. “That’s why you’ve never been on a single date, then?”

Emma nods, her voice cracked as she answers, “Can’t get your heart broken if you keep it locked away.”

His eyes widen in surprise, and Emma thinks she may have given away too much. “But you’re taking a risk with me?”

She shrugs and removes her hand from his grasp, placing a palm on his arm. “What can I say, I’m an avid lover of poker who enjoys a little game of risk.”

“Really?” Killian asks with intrigue, lifting a brow.

Emma laughs. “Yes, and besides, you’re taking a risk with me. Why not take it together?”

The pools of his blue irises soften under Emma’s gaze as he offers a smile that makes her heart melt. “I can’t say I’ve ever played poker before, but I do like that idea, love.”

Emma’s smile dims, her features growing more serious. “I’ve spent my entire life running away, I’ve always been just an orphan wandering the planet with no place to call home, so maybe it’s time I changed that.”

Killian leans in caressing her cheek, his voice weak as he speaks. “I know what you mean. I’ve spent my entire life traveling, and it’s been far too long since I’ve actually had a home.”

“I don’t know, I think you’ve already found your home.”

Studying her eyes carefully, he lifts a brow, trying to discern what she’s saying. “You mean here in Palm Beach? I’m not sure about that. I’m not even here very much.”

“No, not Palm Beach. Home is not always a place. Being home is being with the people you love, and you have that wherever you go—Mary Margaret, David, Robin, Regina, Henry…”

“And what about you? Do you have a person to call home?”

Of course Emma’s answer is yes. Her sister is and always will be her home, but she can’t tell Killian that, as much as she wishes she could. “No, I don’t.”

Killian’s eyes fall to her lips, and he leans in slowly, placing his finger under her chin, his thumb grazing her jaw. “Well, then you’re right. Perhaps we can do something about that.”

Emma longs to feel his lips on hers, and she knows she shouldn’t kiss him, but God she wants to. Kilian moves in, and she’s glad the string quartet had left the deck after dinner. He pauses, making sure she wants this too, so she closes the rest of the distance between them and goes after his lips.

An abrupt screeching sound from across the water makes Emma gasp, and the big boom and colors erupting into the sky make her jump.

They both look towards the source of the interruption, watching the fireworks shoot up into the sky and explode, lighting up the black night.

“Come on, love.” He stands up, grabs her hand and leads her to the railing. Emma trails behind him, keeping her eyes on the display across the water. She lets go of his hand and stands in front of him, her elbows leaning on the rail, her gaze focused on the fireworks.

Wondering how the night could possibly get better than this, she feels the touch of his hand gliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps in his wake. She feels his breath on her skin as he whispers in her ear, “You cold, love?”

Emma smiles with devilry, nuzzling her head against his lips. “What if I am?”

Killian chuckles against her, his voice sending a pleasant shiver down her spine as he takes her hands, threading his fingers through Emma’s and encircling her in his arms. “Do you always use this tactic to get men to wrap their arms around you?”

Emitting a small laugh, she closes her eyes and sighs in content, enjoying his warm embrace. “So what if I do? It worked, didn’t it?”

“Like a charm.” Killian’s voice is smooth as silk, sending vibrations through her body.

“Actually, I’ve never really craved having a man’s arms around me before,” she admits, loud enough for him to hear over the fireworks.

“Never?”

She shakes her head. “Never.”

“And what changed?”

Emma leans her head back, angling her face towards him and murmuring softly in his ear, “I met you.”

She hears his breath catch and faces the ocean again as he tightens his hold around her, pressing his lips against her lobe. As much as she’s not supposed to allow him to effect her like this, Emma is overtaken with warmth from such a small affection, and she has to bite her bottom lip to refrain from making any sounds of pleasure.

When he turns his head, the stubble on his jaw scrapes against her skin, and immediately she feels the loss of his lips. She tries to focus on the fireworks, but his warm body pressed to her back and his strong arms wrapped around her frame inhibits her ability to think clearly. The heat is surging between them, but it has nothing to do with the warmth of the summer air.

Emma tries to adjust her focus on the game plan, but instead she can’t concentrate on anything but Killian’s hands entwined in hers, and the way his chest moves against her back with every shaky breath he takes. Emma leans her head back again and places a kiss on his cheek. She can feel him quiver against her body, the smell of his skin overwhelming her senses. Another round of fireworks screech above the water, and Emma decides to throw her promise to Milah overboard.

She reaches behind his head, sliding her fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to hers.

Given their recent luck, she’s half expecting to get interrupted, but instead, she’s finally feeling those delicate, soft lips on hers as he parts his mouth, responding to her advances. He tastes even better than she’d imagined, and she can’t bring herself to pull away. Sliding her tongue into his mouth and tasting the sweetness of his, she tugs on his hair to press him closer.

Once he lets a little groan tear from his throat, Emma is officially a goner. She spins around in his arms, cupping his cheeks in her hands as the kiss rapidly becomes heated, both of them breathing each other in. Killian’s hands are soon all over her back, and everything Emma keeps tamed inside her—emotions, desire, the way she has genuinely grown to care about him—erupts to the surface.

The fireworks are long forgotten.

Emma moans as he presses her against the railing, and rips his lips away, the prickly stubble around his mouth dragging across her skin as he leaves an assault of kisses in his wake, causing her head to spin. Making a trail across her jaw, he reaches her ear, speaking in a low, husky voice, “Do you trust me, Swan?”

Emma’s not sure exactly what he means by that—does she trust him not to take things too far? Or does she trust him not to break her heart? She’s not really sure, but she nods her head anyway.

Emma gasps in surprise when he lifts her up and sits her on the railing. He urges her knees apart and moves in, pulling her legs around his waist, his lips crashing into hers. Now she understands what he’d meant, because he has to hold her securely in his arms to keep her from falling off the railing and into the dark waters. And now she’s glad she’d shaved her legs.

Their bodies move instinctively, his groin pressing against her center as they eagerly devour each other. Despite the fireworks still going off behind her, their muffled moans, heavy breathing and the sounds of their lips smacking together are all they can hear.

Emma releases his lips and buries her face in the crook of his neck, leaving seductive kisses down the column of his throat. He dips his head back to allow her more access as she clutches onto him tightly, but it’s not because she’s afraid of falling. She’s wanted this man since the moment she’d laid eyes on him.

“Love, we shouldn't…” His slurred words are completely wrecked as she pulls back, struggling to catch her breath. “We should stop.”

She nods in agreement, licking her lips to savor the taste of him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

Killian offers a lazy smirk. “Please, don’t apologize. That was uh…” Killian stammers, scratching behind his ear.

Emma laughs when she sees the red lipstick on his mouth and wipes it off with her thumb. The possibility of her makeup rubbing off on him had completely escaped her after dinner, even though she knew the lipstick choice wasn’t made to last through everything.

“If we continue any further we might end up making fireworks of our own.”

Sharing a laugh, both are blushing profusely as Killian helps her down from the railing.

“If I’m being honest, I really like you, Emma,” he admits earnestly, and his words crack as he gazes into her eyes, “and I don’t want to screw this up by taking things way too fast.”

Emma stares back at him, and cups his cheeks in her hands, whispering into his ear, “I like you too.”

Killian smiles, caressing her cheek. She turns around in his arms after a moment and they watch the remainder of the fireworks display. They spend the rest of the evening dancing as he tells her about the upcoming tour, both of them deciding it’s best not to tempt fate by kissing again.

The night ends far too soon, and once the boat reaches the marina, Killian wraps Emma’s shawl around her shoulders and grabs her clutch and bouquet of roses, handing them over to her after Emma insists she can carry them herself.

Smee emerges from the cockpit as they’re about to leave, and his cheeks fill with blush when he looks at Killian. “Uh, Captain, you have uh…” he stammers, gesturing to his neck.

Their faces fall in confusion as she looks at Killian to see what Smee is referring to.

“What is it, love?”

“We seem to have missed a spot. There’s still some lipstick on your neck,” she laughs and pulls out a tissue from her purse. Taking his jaw in her hand, she wipes his neck clean, his breath hitching at her touch and their eyes connecting intensely.

“You both enjoyed the evening, I take it?” the man remarks with a smirk.

“We did, indeed,” Killian blushes and smiles as she gets off any of the remaining red and tears her eyes away from him to tuck the tissue back into her purse. “I’ll be escorting Emma to her car now. Could you—”

“No, worries. I’ll take care of the Jolly and tuck her in,” he reassures with a wink and a friendly pat on Killian’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Smee. You’re the best.”

“No problem. Have a good night, Miss Swan. It was nice meeting you.”

“You too. Goodnight.”

Killian and Emma leave the yacht and walk to her car, their hands entwined as she takes stock of the evening. She can’t remember ever having as much fun as she did tonight, and she’s sad he is leaving tomorrow.

“So, what do you think, love? Would you be willing to give dating a try? With me of course,” he adds with a small laugh when they reach her vehicle.

Pursing her lips in contemplation, she steps closer to him, fluttering her lashes flirtatiously and tilting her head. “I suppose I could. I had a really nice time tonight.”

“I’m glad… because I was hoping…” Killian begins softly as he takes her free hand in his. He opens his mouth to finish his sentence, but appears to be hesitant to continue.

“You were hoping what?” she questions a bit nervously, her words laced with concern.

Killian’s lips twitch into a small smile and he says simply, “Come with me.”

Her eyebrows weave, displaying her confusion. “What?”

“Tomorrow, when I leave for Ohio… I want you to come with me.”

Emma’s mouth falls open; she’s not sure what to say to that. They’ve made a lot of progress so far, but she doesn’t want to ruin anything by going with him just yet. It’s far too soon in the game. Besides, Milah would never allow it. Emma had already gone too far by kissing him, and she knows she’ll receive the wrath from Milah as it is. “But… what happened to taking things slowly?”

“Emma, I’m not proposing marriage, I’m just asking you to accompany me on the tour. You’ll have your own hotel suite and you won’t have to worry about the expenses. I’ll make sure you have everything you need for the trip. I just… I would very much like your company and I’m not sure when I will see you again otherwise.”

Emma gulps thickly. She had anticipated going with him, just not this soon and not without any type of notice. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I have obligations here,” she manages. “I have my job, I can’t just up and leave.”

Killian’s features fall slightly, his eyes flickering with disappointment as he offers a weak smile. “Of course, love. I understand. It was a shot in the dark, but I had to take it.”

Emma offers a reassuring grin, reaching a hand to caress his jaw. “It’s okay. I will miss you when you’re gone though.” She extends her hand to him, adding, “Let me see your phone.”

Killian quickly reaches into the pocket of his jacket and pulls out his phone, handing it over.

Quickly keying in her number, she adds it to his contact list. “There, now you have my number. Will you call me?”

Killian nods as Emma hands his phone back. “Of course I will.”

She leans in, capturing his lips and luring him in for a deep kiss. One of his hands curl around her hip, the other sliding through her hair, and their lips and tongues move slowly, memorizing the feel and texture of one another, making the moment last before having to break apart.

Killian groans in content, he bites her bottom lip and slowly releases it, pulling away and resting his forehead on hers. She licks her lips, clutching onto the lapels of his jacket, whispering breathlessly, “Goodbye, Killian. And good luck.”

Killian smiles, his blue eyes glittering under the moonlight as he caresses her cheek with his thumb. “Thank you, love. Goodnight.”

She reluctantly lets him go and gets in her car when he pulls the door open for her. But before he closes it, he hunches over slightly to catch her gaze, a trace of hope lingering in his eyes. “If you change your mind, takeoff from the airport is at 8 a.m. tomorrow. I’ll text you the address just in case, and I’ll wait for you at the terminal.”

Emma offers a soft smile and nods as he shuts the door. They wave at one another as she drives away, and a strange feeling courses through her body. She feels as light as a feather, her lips still tingling and her body buzzing with nerves and excitement. But she’s also feeling guilty, and her heart is swelling inside her chest; she really doesnt know what to do with all these emotions. She does know one thing for sure; for the first time since she and Milah had started conning, Emma doesn’t want the mark to get hurt. She doesn’t want him to suffer any more than he already has. For the first time in her life, she is falling for her mark.

Crap. She’s totally fucked!

#cs ff #heartbreakers au #csbb #captain swan #how to play the game (and in your heart) #my fic

[searchingwardrobes]

Natural Opposite: 11/16

This chapter has been a long time coming, and I am so excited to finally share it! Though Emma and Killian’s relationship doesn’t escalate in the physical sense yet, some walls still come down emotionally. This chapter is also one of the reasons for the M rating as we find out more of Emma’s back story.

Huge thanks as always to my awesome beta @distant-rose, and a shout out to everyone in the CSBB for the discord chat to help me pick the song for this Halloween dance. Especially @katie-dub who recommended “Dark Waltz” by Hayley Westenra. Be sure to check out her CSBB story, Princess of White Chapel, because it is SO good! Actually, everyone in the CSBB put out exceptional work, so be sure to give them all the love and attention they deserve.

I can not fully express how much I love the chapter art that @optomisticgirl did for this. It was the first piece she made, and I was just blown away the minute I saw it! So be sure to go over to her blog and like and reblog because she deserves all the love!

Here is her other chapter art for this story:Two Four Five Six Seven Nine

Summary: Dance is more than Emma Swan’s career; it’s practically saved her life on more than one occasion. But when it comes to reality TV shows, she’s always danced in the shadows of her twin brother David and her sister Elsa. Her first season as a pro on Dancing With the Stars was a disaster, and she enters her second season determined to prove herself. All she needs is a good partner. Hollywood bad boy and ladies’ man Killian Jones isn’t what she had in mind.

Rating: M for mature themes, steamy dance routines, and sexy times (But NOT smut)

Trigger warnings: discussions of online solicitation of a minor, bullying, statutory rape, and emotionally abusive/controlling relationships; stalking; anti-Rumbelle, anti-Neal

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be added to my tag list) @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @kday426 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @followbatb @onceuponaprincessworld @hollyethecurious @ohmakemeahercules

Chapter Eleven: Dark Waltz

Emma was a nervous wreck arriving at the studio to rehearse with Killian. She wasn’t sure how she should handle the gossip. Should she bring it up? Would he? Should she just pretend not to know and ignore it? Would it make things awkward between them? Killian was always flirting with her, trying to get her to open up, but he had never actually asked her out or made a move. She liked things where they were: friendship with innocent flirting. She didn’t want those stupid pictures to mess up the delicate balance they had struck.

But when she stepped off the elevator on the top floor, the sound of loud shouting from the studio at the end of the hall had all thoughts of paparazzi pushed from her mind. She raced down the hall, along with several other celebs and pro dancers towards the room where Jefferson and Belle rehearsed. Emma was shocked to find Robert Gold on the floor, Liam Jones on top of him. Killian was trying to pull his brother off as he threw punches at the older man. Belle was crying and begging Liam to stop. Finally, Jefferson and Graham joined Killian and the three of them managed to pull Liam back and calm him down. Security then rushed in and ushered Liam, Gold, and Belle out of the room. Jefferson followed along with his partner.

Once they had gone, Emma turned to Killian in shock. “What the hell was that all about?”

Killian ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Apparently Gold has been stalking Belle. Liam came to bring her coffee this morning, and he caught Gold in here with her. Liam said he was touching her somehow, but my brother wasn’t exactly focusing on talking, if you know what I mean.”

Emma’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “Poor Belle.” She reached out and laid a hand on Killian’s arm. He was clearly agitated. “Security will sort it all out, okay? We’ve had crazy shit happen before, believe me.”

“I’m sure you’re right. I just hope Belle’s okay. She has such a kind heart, and she’s good for my brother. I’d hate for him to have to go home so soon over all this.”

Emma just rubbed his arm in silence for a moment. “Do you want to cancel our rehearsals for today? Go make sure Liam’s alright?”

Killian shook his head. “We’ve missed so much rehearsal time already. And aren’t we choreographing the group number this afternoon?”

He had a point, so despite Killian’s obvious worry, they headed back to their usual studio. They jumped right into their waltz, working hard all morning. It seemed to calm Killian to have something to focus on. In the midst of everything, Emma never did bring up the TMZ pictures.

******************************************************

Emma and Killian had been teamed up with two athletes for the group dance: figure skater Aurora Briar who danced with Sean Herman, and NFL football player Lance Knight who was partnered with Gwen Pendragon. They had to dance to the song “Somebody That I Used to Know” by Goyte. Gwen had been on the show almost since the beginning, and kind of took charge. Emma wanted to do a vampire themed paso doble, but Gwen decided that they would do a dance patterned more after the song’s music video. So the number ended up being a combination of a tango and a modern piece, and the story was about three widowers looking at the paintings of their deceased wives. The paintings came to life, and the dance ensued.

Killian argued that after Emma’s incredible choreography with “Heart Shaped Box,” she should have more say. But Emma pulled him aside to talk him down.

“This is supposed to be fun,” she hissed at him.

“Your idea was way better, Swan,” he argued, “and the judges still score this dance.”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Emma told him, “but Gwen’s been on this show for a really long time. She’s already won the mirror ball twice and gotten three Emmy nominations for her choreography.”

Killian’s jaw clenched. Lance teasingly asked if they were finished kissing in the corner. Emma turned bright red, thinking back to those TMZ pictures they had never discussed.

“Shut up, Lance!” Emma shot back.

Killian deflated and gave Emma a sheepish smile as he scratched behind his ear.

“Sorry, love, I just see so much talent in you. I hate to see it underappreciated.”

Emma felt her heart soar at his words. She had worked so hard for so many years, yet always felt under other people’s shadows. Namely her brother’s and her sister’s. The fact that Killian saw so much in her was both encouraging and terrifying.

They went back to the rest of the group, and Killian behaved himself. He and Aurora were the stronger celebs when it came to picking up the choreography, but Lance was determined, as athletes usually were on the show. Killian provided good balance for the two intense competitors, getting both Aurora and Lance to laugh and enjoy the group dynamic. Emma marveled at his ability to get along with everyone so easily. She wished she had that quality.

The rest of the days leading up to the Halloween episode flew by. They filmed the requisite clips of their team trash-talking the other one and pretending to “spy” on the other group’s rehearsals. In the frenetic pace of everything, those pictures on TMZ never came up. Even the media seemed to lose interest as news that Belle French had put out a restraining order on Robert Gold consumed everyone’s attention. Killian had been worried that Gold would press assault charges against his brother, but when the obsessive content of the man’s texts and emails to Belle became public, the billionaire had other things on his mind. And Emma hated herself for even thinking it, but part of her was glad that the drama with Gold would be at the forefront of everyone’s minds in the studio come Monday afternoon.

*****************************************************

Emma and Killian, for the first time all season, were scheduled to dance first for the Halloween episode. The set department, like every Halloween, had outdone themselves. Emma had asked for a graveyard, and they had delivered. A black iron gate flanked the dance floor, and in between were an assortment of tombstones. Dry ice sent fog billowing throughout the scene.

“Did they have to use my actual name?” Killian whispered in her ear as she took her place in front of the largest of the tombstones. It read in large, block letters: “Killian Jones.”

Emma just shrugged at him. “Better you than me,” she teased, “now go find your mark.”

He squeezed her hand before walking to the other side of the dance floor and taking his place behind one of the iron gates. The premise of their dance was fairly simple: Emma was a bride widowed on her wedding day. The costume department had made her a gorgeous lace wedding gown that was tattered and stained with blood. Black roses adorned her hair, which was down in a messy mass of curls. Killian, the deceased groom, was dressed in a tux that was in similar shape, and the makeup department had rubbed his skin with white foundation. But the truly gruesome part were the bloody wounds they had added to his face.

“The makeup team sort of knocked the handsome out of me,” he had joked to Emma when she first saw him.

Emma had just shaken her head and laughed. “No make-up artist is that good.” She swore she could see him blush through his heavy foundation.

The video package this week was fairly innocuous. It focused more on the storyline of their dance and silly Halloween jokes than on the actual content of their rehearsals. As it wound to a close, Emma knelt before the tombstone, a black rose in her hand. Camera angles would make it appear to the viewing audience at home that Killian’s ghost appeared out of nowhere to dance with her.

The strains of “Dark Waltz” by Hayley Westenra began to play as Emma set the rose on top of the tombstone. As she always did when performing, Emma reached deep inside of her, to emotions that she normally kept buried. My character has lost her lover, Emma lectured herself internally, She’s alone and grieving.

Later, Emma would try to pinpoint exactly what opened the floodgates of pain, but she could never decide if were the first melancholy notes of music or the gentle touch of Killian’s hand on her shoulder. Whatever it was, she danced the waltz with a raw emotion she had never experienced before. It wasn’t just the grieving widow who was desperate to hold onto her lover, it was Emma as well. Killian fed off her energy, and they both grasped for one another in an almost desperate way. It was truly a dark waltz, just like the song said.

At the end, when Emma spun back around to find Killian’s “ghost” suddenly gone, her own choreography called for her to collapse to the ground in grief. It didn’t, however, call for tears. Yet they came anyway. Something about the character being so utterly, completely alone - abandoned forever -tore at Emma in a way she couldn’t explain. Emma choked, attempting to hold the tears at bay, yet they streamed down her face anyway. She put a trembling hand to her mouth, taking deep breaths through her nose, but they wouldn’t stop. Soon, Killian was there, helping her up to her feet. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest where her tears wet his shirt.

“Are you okay?” he whispered, making no move to steer her towards the judges.

Emma took a long, shaky breath and nodded as the tears finally stopped flowing. She gave Killian a wobbly smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

He gave her a gentle smile in return, reaching up to brush her tears away with his knuckles. “Are you sure, love?”

She nodded, her cheeks flooding with heat. She turned towards the judges with shaky steps, Killian’s arm a strong support at her waist. The judges and most of the audience were on their feet. Marco asked her a question – something about her emotions - and she stumbled over some kind of answer about being swept away by the story. She wasn’t entirely sure due to the roaring in her ears. She barely registered what any of the judges said. Tiana had to deduct points for an illegal lift, but otherwise, the feedback was positive. Upstairs, the roaring in her ears continued as Ashley interviewed them. It mostly consisted of Ashley marveling over Killian’s disturbing makeup. Emma had a feeling her partner was trying to intentionally pull the attention away from her and her emotional outburst because he laughed and teased Ashley for several minutes about his fake bloodied face. Then the scores were announced: two tens and a nine. Emma was still numb as Killian grabbed her in a tight hug, pulling her up off her feet. The second Ashley announced a commercial break, Emma dashed for the backstage area, ripping off her mic as she went.

Emma found a corner behind the plywood sets and lowered herself shakily to the cold concrete floor. She pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in the circle of her arms. She felt the black roses atop her head slip down over one ear.

“Please mates,” she heard Killian’s voice behind her, “give her some bloody privacy.”

She felt his hand on her shoulder, and thinking back to the start of their dance, shuddered at his touch. “I sent the camera guys away,” he told her softly, “so if you want to tell me what happened out there –“

“No,” Emma cut him off, “I don’t.”

“I’d like to help –“

“Killian,” she snapped, “leave me alone. Please.”

She heard him release a long sigh, then his hand slipped from her shoulder. It fell silent around her again, and she assumed he had done as she had asked. Then a hand touched her elbow.

“Damn it, Killian, I said –“ Emma’s words died on her lips when she lifted her face to see her brother kneeling beside her. “Oh,” she muttered sheepishly, pushing hair out of her face, “I didn’t know it was you.”

David shifted so he was sitting on the floor next to her, his arm around her. Emma sagged against him, resting her head on his shoulder like she used to when she was a kid. For several minutes, they just sat there. Ariel appeared at the far end of the corridor, her silhouette outlined by the stage lights behind her.

“David, we’ve got a troupe dance in five!”

“Gimme a minute!” he snapped back in irritation. Ariel shrugged and headed back towards the stage.

Emma dug an elbow into her brother’s ribs. “You better get going.”

David made no move to leave. Finally, he leaned over and whispered against her hair. “It was about Neal, wasn’t it?”

Emma stiffened.

“You don’t have to be so tough, Emma,” he told her gently.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Emma groaned, “and the last thing I want to do is talk about this on some therapist’s couch.”

David actually chuckled. “Oh, I think Mom and I have given up on trying to get you to do that. But you know, you’ve got a family of four people. Five, if you count Mary Margaret, which she would. And not one of us would mind being a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear. We may not be a conventional family, but we all love you.”

“David, come on!” It was now Ruby shouting for her brother.

“Go,” she told him, giving him a shove, “before you get fired.”

He kissed the top of her head and left her. Emma yanked the crown of depressing flowers off her head and threw them aside. Black roses. No wonder it brought back memories of Neal.

**************************************************

It was past two in the morning, and Emma couldn’t sleep. And after how the show ended today, she desperately needed to. The results had been a shock to everyone: no one had been eliminated. In retrospect, Emma should have seen it coming. The producers hadn’t given the pros even a hint of what the theme was for the week. Turned out, it was one that always proved dramatic: partner switch week. Instead of dancing with Killian, she had been paired with baseball player August Booth. Emma groaned as she stirred her hot chocolate. Baseball players were notoriously stiff dancers. It could be Leroy all over again. At least the guy was attractive.

Emma shuffled over to the couch and settled down with a heavy quilt draped across her legs. She took a sip of her cocoa as she sagged against the cushions. Retrospection wasn’t one of Emma’s strengths, but she attempted to at least pin down what was bothering her. Knowing she had to dance with a new partner was stressful, so it could be that. Or maybe it was the second dance she would have to do with Killian: a dance off against Elsa and Graham of all couples. They were definitely going for drama next week, that was for sure.

Then Emma remembered her embarrassing meltdown on a live television show. She set down her mug and buried her head beneath the covers. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t sleep because her emotions were too close to the surface. Fear and pain that she had pushed aside for ten years had come bubbling up without warning. Why now?

Emma’s phone, which was lying on the coffee table, lit up with a text message. She snatched it up, curious as to who would be contacting her at such an ungodly hour. She blinked to see a message from Killian.

I’m outside, but I didn’t want to wake anyone up.

Emma’s brow furrowed in surprise. Everything okay?

I’m actually here because I’m worried YOU aren’t okay.

Emma let out a long breath. She gnawed on her lower lip, considering, then rose from the couch with the quilt still wrapped around herself. She opened the door to see Killian on the other side, his gaze hesitant. She was surprised to see him in a baseball cap.

“How did you even know I would be up?” she whispered.

He shrugged. “Lucky guess? You seemed pretty shaken up today.” He shuffled his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “And I couldn’t sleep either.”

Emma gave him a teasing smile. “That worried about switching partners?”

He smiled back. “Maybe I am. I’m sure Jasmine is a fine dancer, but there’s only one Emma Swan.”

Emma felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, standing there in her plaid pajamas with a ratty old quilt draped over her shoulders. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Look, Killian, everyone’s asleep –“

“I know,” he interrupted quickly, “I was wondering if you’d come with me.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Not really in the mood for partying.”

He shook his head, his eyes sparkling. “I had something else in mind. You can even stay in your PJs, and . . . are those wookie slippers?”

Emma chuckled as she shuffled her feet, “A Christmas present from Henry.”

“Ah, I see.” She suddenly realized that Killian himself was in a long sleeve tee and jeans, in addition to the cap. It was the most casual she had ever seen him.

“Um,” Emma mumbled, letting go of one end of the quilt so she could tuck her wayward hair behind her ears, “I’ll go change. Just wait here.”

Emma quickly threw on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, then pulled her hair into a messy ponytail. She slipped into a pair of flip flops, joined Killian outside, and they headed downstairs to his car.

“Never seen you in a hat,” she commented.

He shrugged. “I didn’t want any more pictures getting out.”

Emma felt herself blush as he opened his car door for her. “So you saw those.”

“Aye,” he said as he slid behind the driver’s wheel, “I’ve gotten used to that sort of thing, but I know you’re not. I hope you weren’t too upset by it.”

“I was at first, but nothing came of it, so . . . “ Emma trailed off, unsure what else to say. The pictures honestly seemed like a whole lot of nothing compared to the memories that wouldn’t quit invading her mind since their waltz that afternoon. Silence settled between them, but not an uncomfortable one. Emma leaned her head against the window, looking up at the hazy LA sky.

“I just want you to know,” Killian said softly, “that I’m doing this as a friend. I can tell your heart is troubled, and I’d like to help if I can.”

Emma turned to examine his profile as he concentrated on driving. She pulled her knees to her chest as she took in the sincerity of his expression. Neal had made her cynical, untrusting, and yet here she was driving through LA with an actor of all people at 2:30 in the morning. She closed her eyes and waited for the panic to set in. She was shocked when it never came.

The rest of the twenty minute drive was a quiet one. Finally, Killian pulled up to a marina on the coast where a row of sleek yachts were moored. Emma got out, eager to feel the sea breeze on her face. Killian came to walk beside her, resting his hand at the small of her back to guide her up the pier.

“You have a boat?”

“Aye,” Killian answered, stopping in front of a yacht with gold trim and the name The Jewel of the Realm painted on the side in navy blue, “and here she is.”

“She’s not The Jolly Roger?” Emma teased as he helped her on board.

“No, but Jewel of the Realm,” he replied, emphasizing the first letters, “see what I did there?”

Emma nodded, “I get it.”

“Now, Swan,” Killian told her, guiding her up a ladder to a deck area on top of the yacht, “I want you to relax while I get us out a little ways from shore.”

Emma looked at the pile of cushions and blankets artfully scattered around. She arched a brow at Killian. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

Killian reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his expression earnest. “I meant what I said in the car. I find the sea calming. That’s all I want to give you, Emma. A little bit of peace from your troubles. If I can.”

Emma swallowed nervously, taking a quick step back. She hadn’t been expecting him to sidestep such an open invitation to an innuendo. This kind offering of friendship was almost harder to deal with than his flirting. Emma masked her discomfort with a joke. “Well that’s good because I may just fall asleep.”

Killian ducked his head with a soft chuckle. “If so, then my work here is done.”

He turned to go down to the wheel, but Emma stopped him. “Wait. You – you’ll come back up in a few minutes, right?”

He smiled softly. “Aye, love, as soon as I lay anchor.”

Once he had left, Emma sank down to the cushions and drew a blanket around herself. The air here on the water was a bit chillier than in the city. She leaned back, tilting her head up to look at the sky. As they headed farther out to sea, she could see stars twinkling overhead. Killian was right; it was calming. The rocking of the boat and the repetitive whooshing sound of the water caused Emma to drift off for a moment. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when the cutting of the engine and a loud splash awakened her. Killian came back up the ladder, smiling softly at her as he settled in next to her. They both lay there, looking up at the clear night sky. Killian said nothing, and Emma appreciated the silence. When she finally spoke, she could only manage a whisper.

“His name was Neal.”

Killian turned to look at her, “Henry’s father?”

Emma nodded, looking away from his gaze and up at the stars instead. “I was sixteen when I met him online. I had a MySpace page, and that’s where we started talking. He said he was eighteen.” Emma fiddled with the edge of the blanket across her lap. “I was young and stupid, shared too much personal information. He wanted to come to one of my dance competitions.” Emma let out a long, shaky breath. “That’s when I found out he wasn’t eighteen.”

Still Killian didn’t speak, but he brushed his hand against hers. Emma grasped it, threading her fingers with his like they always did on the dance floor.

“He was twenty-five,” Emma continued. She chanced a glance at Killian, but his only reaction was a slight clenching of his jaw. “Anyway, Ingrid never knew he was at that competition. He made me promise not to tell anyone about him. He said people wouldn’t understand. He kissed me and told me I was beautiful. Said that watching me dance was mesmerizing. I convinced myself it was love.”

Killian squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to,” he told her softly.

“No,” she said in a shaky voice, “I want to. I need to.” The next part was the hardest to tell. “It was always at my competitions that we would meet. This went on for a year. When I was seventeen, he asked me for a dance lesson. So I snuck out of my hotel room where the competition was being held . . .“

Suddenly, Emma felt as if a weight had settled on her chest. She sat up, struggling to breath. Killian sat next to her, rubbing her back soothingly. She put her head between her knees, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth, the way Ingrid had taught her.

“Did he rape you?” Killian asked gently.

Emma shook her head as she let out a long, cleansing breath. “No, but it was the night I lost my virginity. Like I said, I thought it was love. After that, he . . . changed. He became more demanding of my time, more intrusive, more critical. It became harder and harder to hide things from Ingrid, but Neal kept saying that she would never understand the way he loved me. But Ingrid knew something was wrong. I was skipping rehearsals, my grades were dropping, I was tired all the time. She and I were always fighting. It was the same with David and my sisters. I started pulling away from them. Neal encouraged it. Only now can I see that he wasn’t who he said he was.”

By the time Emma finished, tears were pouring down her face. She turned towards Killian, who let her fall against his chest as ugly sobs tore at her. She hadn’t cried like this in over ten years. His arms tightened around her.

“I’m so sorry, Emma,” he told her brokenly. “Does he know about Henry?”

Emma pulled back, rolling her eyes as she scrubbed at her tear-stained cheeks. “Why do you think he disappeared? I told him I was pregnant, and that was it. I couldn’t reach him; not online, not by phone. It was like he took what he wanted from me, and when things got complicated, just like that, he was gone.”

Killian said nothing, putting his arm around her again and drawing her close. She rested her cheek against his chest and listened to the soothing sounds of the water.

“I guess, that dance. . . Neal left me broken. Somehow, I tapped into that pain today.”

Killian still didn’t let her go, and Emma felt herself go limp against him. She had never felt so safe in a man’s arms before. “Did he go to jail?” Killian asked.

“No,” Emma breathed out shakily, “I was so freaked out, it was weeks before I told Ingrid about the baby. By then, I had deleted my MySpace page. I just wanted to erase him from my life. Maybe his name wasn’t even Neal. Who knows?”

“But you didn’t let him stop you from dancing. You are so strong, Emma Swan.”

“And I have Henry,” she added, a wistful smile spreading across her face. “Being a dancer, and young, I was pretty far along before I knew about him. When I saw his little hands and feet on that ultrasound, I knew I could never give him up.”

“Does he know?”

Emma nodded. “I’ve always tried to be honest with him; explaining things as he was old enough to understand them. And he’s had a heck of an internet safety talk, believe me. Multiple times.”

“He’s a tough lad,” Killian said, “like his mother.”

Emma pulled away from Killian’s embrace, brushing at tendrils of hair that had stuck to her wet cheeks. “Ugh. I’m not acting so tough right now.”

“I disagree, Emma,” Killian told her, “I’ve never seen such strength.”

#csbb #csbb fic #csbb 2018 #cs ff #cs modern au #dancing with the stars au #enemies to friends to lovers #Natural Opposite #searching wardrobes

[seriouslyhooked]

No Other Plans (A CS Birthday AU)

A/N: Modern AU where it’s Emma’s birthday and she never celebrates it with anyone. She’s been slowly falling for this new neighbor of hers, Killian, for a while now. Emma’s crafted a plan to ask him out after months of pushing him away, but because it’s me writing a fluffy fic, Killian already has his own plan in motion. The two come together in a sweet, lovely one shot and there is no angst anywhere ever at all, the end. Also on FF here and AO3 here.

Whatever special love the rest of the world had for birthdays, Emma Swan could never seem to understand.

Maybe it would make sense to her if she’d grown up in a loving home with the parties and the presents and the celebration, but there was none of that in her world. Her birthday was just like any other day, with no fuss and no grandeur and that was the way she preferred it. Even when she’d left the foster system, an adult in her own right now in charge of her own decisions and destiny, Emma still downplayed the day. What was the point of making a big deal? It wasn’t like she had a ton of friends to party with, and she definitely didn’t think that wishing on a candle would get her anything of value in life. It all just felt kind of pointless and arbitrary. Why should this one day of all days matter?

The truth was it shouldn’t, at least not in Emma’s eyes, but this year she was making an exception, because this year, for the first time in her life, she had a real regret that she was living with. As cheesy as it sounded, she actually had a birthday wish, a wrong to make right and a hope in her heart where hope had so long been absent.

It all started a few months ago when her closest neighbors unexpectedly moved out and a new tenant moved in. Emma hadn’t thought anything of it. This apartment complex had enough turn around to make it inconsequential. New people came and went all the time; that was the way things went in the city. But then she’d actually met the man who would be living across the hall and everything changed.

“You must be Swan,” this handsome foreigner had said as he dropped one of the boxes he was moving in and came to extend a hand in greeting. Clearly he had missed the memo on city dwellers in America – the occasional smile or hello in the elevator was just about as chummy as people got here. Still Emma found herself accepting the handshake all the same. “Well at least you are ‘Swan’ if the mail boxes are to be trusted.”

“They are,” Emma replied hesitantly, her thoughts distracted by the way his being so close made her feel. It was pleasant when typically she went out of her way to avoid people. “And I am. But it’s Emma actually. Emma Swan.”

In the moment she couldn’t understand why she was telling him so much. Emma never opened up to strangers. Heck this guy could be certifiably nuts. Lord knew she saw enough in her line of work to know there were some real sickos out of there. But strange as it was, her gut couldn’t seem to muster anything like repulsion at this new person in her life. Instead she felt comfortable, even safe, and that thought scared her half to death.

“Emma,” he’d said as his hand held hers just a little too long, leaving a warmth and tingling all in once in her palm and through her fingers. The way he said her name was delicate but also gruff. It had just a hint of gravel melted in with that sexy accent and it shocked the hell out of Emma, so much so that she barely caught his introduction: “Killian Jones, at your service.”

“You always talk like that? Like a pirate or something?” she’d asked, completely embarrassed when it slipped out but hiding it as best she could as Killian laughed.

“Aye, love. It’s one of my many quirks. Beware my tendency for swashbuckling and excessive exclamations like ‘argh’ and ‘ahoy there.’

Emma found herself laughing at his joke, which totally took her by surprise. But surprising didn’t cut it when it came to Killian Jones. He was… indescribable. There was just something about him that drew Emma in, that made her want to linger out there in the hallway when he greeted her, or made her debate if a little more neighborly visiting wouldn’t be a good thing. She could cook him something, right? Like a casserole or whatever the hell people brought neighbors in the movies. Well obviously she’d have to learn how to cook first but…

These were the kinds of thoughts Emma had been having for months as she slowly but surely caved to an infatuation with the handsome Brit. She would not call her feelings for Killian a crush – she would certainly not call it love – but she had to admit that there was something about him, something in those piercing blue eyes and that charismatic smile; something about the way he always held the door, not just for her but for everyone; something about the charm he had that was almost roguish even though he was always a gentleman. He was a flirt, but never crossed a line, he would tease her, but he never insulted her at all. Instead he boosted her up, whether he meant to or not, always leaving her with something – some small compliment or professed bit of faith that made her feel better and made her want more.

Killian had even been bold enough to make it clear that he wanted more too, asking Emma a number of times if she had plans during a weekend or a slower night of the week. She always said the same thing – “Sorry, I can’t” – any time he asked, but she also knew he would ask again even when he turned her down. No matter what he always asked again, and he managed to do so without ever pressuring her or making her feel like her boundaries were tested or infringed on. Emma could tell that he was patiently waiting for her to be ready, but she was starting to worry that that patience had run out, because for the past week she’d barely seen him, and when she had he hadn’t mentioned anything about hanging out at all.

“It’s my own fault,” she muttered aloud to herself as she nervously paced around her apartment. “I should have just said yes. I should have just gone on the date with the guy I like instead of turning him down over and over again. Now I’m that girl who makes a move on her birthday of all days. God this is so dumb.”

Emma was spared from further self-censure by the ding of her over timer, a sound she’d rarely ever heard since moving in. She went to open it up and found the vanilla cupcakes she’d put in there. They actually looked kind of okay and as she pulled them out she read all directions very carefully. She made sure they were totally cool and then she did her best (which was admittedly not very well) to try and frost them. The frosting she was using was blue, a blue not unlike the darker specs in Killian’s eyes, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of that or about Killian’s love of the sea when she chose it at the store. She knew all these little things about him, and unbeknownst to her at the time she’d been saving them up and keeping them all close because they actually mattered to her.

Finally Emma looked at the scene before her, finding two of the twelve cupcakes she’d made that looked slightly more passable than the others. She placed them on a clean white plate, added a couple of white sprinkles, and then she took a steadying breath and readied herself for this moment. Right now she was going to make a move – she was going to see if Killian was interested in spending the evening with her, and hopefully if the promise of her company wasn’t enough, then the cupcakes would bribe him into letting her back in. Truth be told she missed him, even though it had only been a few days, and accepting that was a big step for her, one that told her she should take the chance and see what happened.  

Emma headed out her front door, moving down the hallway the short distance to Killian’s place. Once there, she only hesitated for a moment, trying to steady her resolve. She was a big girl, a strong woman, surely she was brave enough to put herself out there. But just before she could raise her hand to knock, the door swung open, and there was Killian, looking as gorgeous as ever and totally taking her breath away.

“Emma,” he said, taking in the sight of her with an obvious tone of shock. “What are you – I mean I was going to – uh…”

Emma watched the expressions of his face. He started at thrilled to see her, something that made her heart flutter with excitement in her chest, and then he moved into surprise as he saw her cupcakes. Emma realized she was staring at him, and then it was her turn to notice that he was holding something too, a small light green cake with candles and everything not so unlike her cupcakes.

“Is that for me?” Emma asked, smiling as she saw him turn a bit red at the question.

“Aye, Swan. I know you don’t typically celebrate your birthday – you’ve told me as much before – but I hated to think it would go by and we wouldn’t commemorate it somehow. You deserve all recognition, love. Your too remarkable to go without.”

Emma was touched at how sweet his words were, and she ducked her head back down to look at the cake and to hide the mistiness that was coming to her eyes. This was honestly more than she’d hoped for. Killian hadn’t forgotten her at all. He wasn’t taking a step back from his admittedly closed off and guarded neighbor. He still cared – she hadn’t waited too long!

“I thought I’d make an exception this year,” Emma clarified, looking back up at him and finding so much hope and curiosity in his cerulean gaze. His hope emboldened her own as she said more. “But I realized the only person who I’d want to spend the day with was you. I mean if you’re not busy that is.”

“I’m not,” Killian rushed to say and Emma smiled at how he seemed to get flustered all over again before trying to regain his cool. “Trust me, I’ve no other plans, Swan. Certainly not when I could be spending time with you.”

“Good,” Emma said softly, stepping into his apartment and putting her cupcakes on the kitchen table. Killian chuckled at the sight of them, commenting on how they’d had the same idea. He said something about great minds thinking alike, but Emma wasn’t really listening. Instead she was thinking about how she’d already come this far and how she should just do it – she should just put it all out there so he’d know how she felt.

So when the cakes were safely on the counter, Emma made her move, cutting into Killian’s compliment of her frosting job and pulling him in by the leather jacket he was wearing, the one that she’d always wanted to grab onto. There was only an instant before she pressed that first kiss to his lips, a single moment before the world exploded into all the possibility that Killian had presented from their very first meeting, but in that second Emma watched as Killian understood her intentions, and she saw in his eyes an undeniable point of proof that she wasn’t in this alone. Then the kiss took that proof so much further, illustrating that not only did they understand each other, but that the chemistry between them burned so much brighter than she’d ever imagined possible.

All those nights that Emma lay awake wondering ‘what if’ had done nothing to prepare her for reality. She’d imagined what it would be like to be wrapped in Killian’s arms, but it didn’t hold a candle to the real deal. Here she was warm and safe, protected and cherished all at once. She might have started the kiss but he controlled it, showing this dominance and a need that woke her up inside and made that already present craving flare to something even more. She was desperate for this, desperate for him, but all they could have right now was a taste. There were still things to say, still steps to take, but this kiss would forever represent the start of something Emma now truly knew she wanted. She’d have this memory emblazoned in her mind forever, and she couldn’t help the smile that played at her lips as they broke apart. She felt like a kid at Christmas – or at least a normal kid at Christmas. It was foreign to her, but oh so delightful all the same.

“I didn’t want you to wonder about where I stood in this,” Emma said, her voice sounding breathy but strong as her words sounded out between them. Killian, meanwhile, ran his hand against her cheek, the feel of it a perfect mix of rough and tender and Emma had to fight to get the rest of her thoughts out and to not get distracted “I want you, Killian, and I’m tired of trying to deny that. I just thought you should know.”

“Thank Christ for that,” he muttered before kissing her again, but before they could get too carried away he pulled back making his own confession. “You know you really had me going there, love. I’d wait forever for this, but damn am I glad the wait is over. It is over, right?”

Emma laughed at his sudden bit of panic and nodded. “Yeah it’s over. We’re doing this. Well, we’re trying at least.”

“Oh we’re doing this,” Killian affirmed as he took both of her hands in his. “Because no matter what may come, Emma, my feelings will not change. This is it for me. You’re it for me. I knew it from that first day.”

“I think I did too,” Emma confessed happily, looking from Killian back around his apartment and feeling so satisfied as his arms came around her once more. Her eyes landed back on the cake, and so did his, prompting his question.

“So… any thoughts on what you’ll wish for?”

“Not a clue,” Emma replied before looking back up at him. “I already got what I wanted. I don’t think I need a wish.”

“Everyone needs a wish, Swan,” Killian said, deftly finding a lighter and illuminating the candles as he still held her close, tucking her back to his front and letting her face the treats they’d both worked so hard to create as the candles glowed and waited for her. “I think you can rise to the challenge.”

Emma thought on it for a moment, loving that even with all this newness there was still that easy, playful banter between them. So much was changing, but the most important things would stay the same. She trusted Killian, she wanted Killian, and now they could be together because they were willing to make the choice. It was an easy choice to make too, once she’d let go of the fear and listened to her heart, just like it was easy to find another wish if she let it come from the same happy, hopeful place. Just before she blew out the candles Emma smiled at the realization that this was her first birthday wish in all the years she could remember. She only hoped as she got all the candles in one try that all those years of waiting would mean better luck in getting her heart’s true desire.

And sure enough that wish did come true, though it took a little time to come together. Because Emma’s wish was to make this work with Killian; to take the risk, to fall in love, and to find her happiness once and for all. She wasn’t looking for a fairy tale per se, but something honest and real and wonderful, and lucky for her, and for Killian too, they found exactly that.

Post-Note: So it’s my birthday today, and as such it felt right to treat myself to a little bit of writing. I carved out some non-existent time and wrote this little drabble because I needed some CS fluff today. Hopefully you guys will enjoy, and if you’re wondering about the title, it’s actually inspired by the song ‘No Other Plans’ by Jillian Edwards. I’m not including this chapter in my mixtape collection since there’s a lot of variance from the original lyrics, but figured I’d plug it here if anyone wants to listen. Anyway thank you all so much for reading and I hope you have a lovely rest of your day!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan au #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs ff #cs #cs au #cs oneshot #cs au oneshot #emma swan #killian jones #cs neighbors au #cs birthday fic #ouat au #CS modern AU #no other plans

[winterbaby89]

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter Twenty-Three

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones

Amazing Artwork by: @xhookswenchx (banner) and @flipperbrain (pastel below)

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe (probably) some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

A/N: We’ve taken some creative license when it comes to how a certain dagger works in reference to exerting control over the Dark One. We realize that it is slightly different in canon, but felt it a necessary tweak for our story. Just go with us…

Line breaks indicate change in POV or Scene.

The gif set that launched a fic…

Also available on ao3, my fic page, and Hollye′s fic page And if you want to catch up on the last chapter.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Killian stood at the town line with Emma, David, Mary Margaret, and Henry, silently cursing to himself. It wasn’t as if he’d truly wanted to leave Storybrooke, but he’d hoped it would be an option should the Darkness prove too much for him to overcome. Now it would only serve as a last resort, seeing as the dwarves had discovered that once one crossed the town line they would revert back to their cursed self.

Terrible news, indeed.   

When Leroy and the others had run into town hall with their dire warning, it had taken some time to calm the masses once again. Graham returned with news that he’d been unable to locate Regina, speculating that she may be hiding out in her vault. Cooking up all manner of nightmarish hell for them, no doubt. They’d left the sheriff in charge, and had proceeded to the town line to assess what needed to be done to ensure no one crossed it unwittingly.

Killian smiled ruefully at their little party. Mary Margaret and David had insisted on accompanying Emma, and she in turn refused to let Henry out of her sight while Regina was in the wind. Henry and Emma had both insisted that he join them, so there they were. Five people doing a job that would otherwise only require two at most.

Emma extended a can of bright orange spray paint towards Killian. “We should mark the boundary,” she told him, as the prince and princess continued to discuss how best to announce this news to the town without starting a panic.

Killian nodded and took the can from her, shaking it as he walked over to the welcome sign. Another smile crept over his face as he saw the patch Marco had done all those months ago, after Emma had crashed into it. Before her, no one had ever come to Storybrooke, except Henry, so the fact that they had a sign in the first place seemed absurd now.

With the sign as his point of origin, Killian began to spray a visible line to designate the point of no return. Hunched over and thoroughly engrossed in his task, he was oblivious to the car coming straight for him until it was too late. Killian heard Emma cry out his name as he braced for the impact, but the one he felt did not come from the vehicle. A flash of light blinded him before he was propelled backward, landing hard on his back against the pavement.

Slowly, he sat up and took in several things all at once. The car that had been barreling toward him now rested against one of the forest’s trees, its front end smashed in from the impact. David and Mary Margaret stood paralyzed with stunned expressions on their face as they stared at Emma who was staring at her hands with the same expression.

“Are you okay, Killian?” Henry called out from David’s truck, where he’d been told to wait.

“Aye, lad,” he responded as he stood, not taking his eyes off Emma.

Emma’s eyes snapped up from her hands and met his with wide astonishment. “What the hell was that?”

“That, Swan,” he replied softly as he made his way to her, taking her hands in his once he got close enough, “was magic.”

“Magic?!” she exclaimed. “I have magic? Why? Wha-? How?”

Killian cupped the side of her face in an effort to calm her as he spoke, “Those are all good questions love, but I’m afraid they’ll have to wait. We’ve another, more urgent matter to attend to.”

Dropping his hand from her face, he looked back over his shoulder at the wrecked vehicle, then made eye contact with the prince. “Best call for an ambulance. Looks like the outside world just came to Storybrooke.”

Magic. I have magic. Magic that wrecked a car. I didn’t mean to wreck the car, I was trying to save Killian. Wait. No. I didn’t know I could save him, I just…

Emma hadn’t moved from where she’d stood when a blast of something indescribable had shot from her hands when she saw Killian about to be run down by the red convertible. She’d thrown her hands out with some kind of innate instinct, and the force of that action had launched Killian backward as a blast of white light struck the car and forced it into the tree line. An action that had stunned them all. Except for Killian. Somehow, he’d known.

“The ambulances are on their way, love,” Killian said, startling her from her thoughts.

Ambulances?

It took a minute for Emma to register the fact that there had to actually be people in the vehicle she’d sent careening into the tree.

“Oh, god. Are they… Did I-” Emma panicked.

“Emma, look at me,” Killian commanded, his hands resting atop each of her shoulders as he waited for her to meet his gaze. “They’re unconscious, but alive. The paramedics will be here soon. They’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that!” she argued. She tried to pull away from him, but he kept a firm grip on her as he tried to calm her down. “Let go!”

An angry and pained expression crossed his face, and his hands seemed to involuntarily fall away. His jaw clenched, his hands balled at his sides, and it was then she realized what she’d done.

“Killian, I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, I wasn’t think-”

“It’s alright, Swan.”

“No. No it isn’t.” Emma now had her hands balled at her sides. The day’s events crashed over her in waves of frustration, and worry, and the last vestiges of her adrenaline were waning. “Very little about this day is okay, Killian. Henry was cursed and almost died! I had to slay a dragon! I just wrecked a car! I made you do something against your will. No wonder you didn’t want to be able to use magic. Look what I just did! I hurt people!”

“No, Emma.” The vehemence in Killian’s voice was palpable. “Your magic is nothing like mine. You saved Henry. You were trying to save me. You didn’t mean to harm anyone, and I know you didn’t mean to control me just now.” A smirk appeared at his lips as he cheekily added, “but, perhaps you could choose your words a bit more carefully? Given this world’s more colorful sayings, I could find myself doing all manner of unintended acts.”

Emma released an amused breath, and felt some of the tension within her drain away. The man always did know just what to say or do to ease her burdens, even temporarily.

Their attentions were pulled from one another at the sound of the ambulances making their way toward them. As Mary Margaret directed the paramedics to the convertible, David jogged over to them.

“I just spoke with Graham.” David stopped before them, his hands on his hips in an authoritative stance that Emma still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around. “He’s going to meet our new arrivals at the hospital. He’ll stay with them and keep us posted on their condition.”

“Any idea who they are?” Emma questioned.

“No. I didn’t want to check for ID and risk further injury by moving them.” Emma winced at the mention of their injuries, and David was quick to pick up on it. “Hey. Emma, this is not your fault. You didn’t know. None of us did. You didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“But it did happen,” Emma retorted. “How are we going to explain it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… what are we going to tell those two men when they regain consciousness? How are we going to explain the accident? What if they remember seeing this bright white light shooting out of some woman’s hands?”

“She’s got a point, David,” Killian stated. “What do we do if they remember seeing magic?”

“Well, let’s cross that bridge if we come to it,” David said. “We don’t know what they’ll remember, but just to be safe, let’s have Graham be the one to talk with them. Minimize the chance that seeing you triggers the memory.”

Emma nodded, her teeth worrying at her lip. She suddenly felt exhausted, and her shoulders slumped as she exhaled a heavy breath.

“Why don’t you go home,” David suggested, tentatively placing a hand on her shoulder. “Snow and I will head back to Town Hall and finish things up there. You and Henry should head home. You’ve both had a hell of a day.”

“We all have,” Emma grumbled. She’d love nothing more than to go back to her house, and pretend the day hadn’t happened, but she hated the idea that she was being sidelined.

“True,” David acknowledged, “but I’ve battled a dragon before, I know how taxing it can be.” His attempt at levity was almost as successful as Killian’s had been. “Go get some rest. We’ll all meet at Granny’s in the morning, and I’ll call you if anything urgent comes up before then.” David turned his attention to Killian and requested, “Look after them for me, Jones.”

Killian visibly startled at David’s words and subsequent clap to his shoulder, but managed to express an Aye, mate, before David headed back over to Mary Margaret and the two men being treated by paramedics.

“What say you, Swan?” Killian asked with raised brows, clearly deferring to her wishes over David’s.

Emma sighed and closed her eyes momentarily, her weariness weighing heavier upon her. Opening her eyes she met Killian’s expectant gaze. “Let’s go home, Captain.”

Killian sat in Emma’s living room watching the last embers from the fireplace slowly die. The house was quiet. Emma and Henry had retired some hours ago, and after the day they’d all had, a silent understanding that he would remain at the house passed between he and Swan when she’d turned in for the night.

It had been too early for bed when they’d first arrived back at the house. Not that any of them would have been able to sleep with the upheaval in their lives still so fresh. At first, none of them seemed to know what to do with themselves until Emma mentioned something about eating. Killian couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bite, and he was certain the same could be said for Emma and Henry as well. He’d insisted on cooking, telling Emma to go sit with Henry by the fire and just enjoy having her boy back. In truth, Killian needed something to keep himself from being idle.

The Crocodile had been stalking him throughout the afternoon. After the loft, the demon had appeared again at Town Hall and briefly out at the town line, before Emma’s magic had been revealed. Killian had hoped that being at Emma’s home, the Saviour’s home would provide him a sanctuary from the manifestation of the Darkness, but the imp was there waiting for him.

It was easier to ignore him if Killian stayed busy, so he’d thrown himself into the task of preparing their evening meal after he’d gotten a fire started in Emma’s living room. As he chopped, stirred, and sampled the provisions, he found himself watching Emma and Henry fondly as they looked through Henry’s storybook. Emma had confessed that she’d never really read much of it before, only looking at the odd pages Henry pointed out over the past few months as it related to the fairy tale character she was assisting at the time.

They’d only just settled before the fire to read over her parent’s story when Henry called out excitedly for Killian to come have a look. He’d been astonished to see all the pages that had once been removed, including his own, had now been restored to their rightful place within the book.

“It must be because there’s magic here now,” Henry had deduced. A deduction Killian felt sure must be correct, as he recognized the vibrations of magic within the book’s pages.

Had it not been for Henry’s never ending exuberance, dinner would most likely have been a quiet affair. As it was, Emma kept encouraging Henry to just eat so they could go to bed, the weariness of the day was etched on her brow and set in her slumped posture. Killian was glad for the lad’s constant chatter, though. Focusing on the boy allowed him to turn a deaf ear to the Darkness, which seemed to have as much to say about the day’s events as Henry did.

Now alone in the quiet house with little to occupy his thoughts, and sleep no longer a means of escape, Killian could no longer ignore the murmurings. Nor could he ignore the quiet whisper singing to him from upstairs. The dagger was calling to him, and the Darkness was urging him to go take it back.

“No,” Killian grit out through clenched teeth as he willed himself to remain on the sofa.

But without the dagger, how will you protect Emma from those two men? Surely they saw her use magic. What will happen to her, to the town, once that secret is exposed?

“We don’t know that they saw anything,” Killian countered aloud to the darkness of the room. “And even if they did, I won’t hurt the innocent. We’ll find another way.”

Can’t hurt the innocent, you mean, his mind hissed. No matter. You don’t need the dagger to stop the other threat in town… Regina, it drawled. The Evil Queen. This is all her fault, anyway. She released the magic. She wants to set the whole town against you, set Emma and Henry against you. Why… if she’d been honest about what would happen when you used the dagger for your revenge, you wouldn’t have become the Dark One in the first place. She’s no innocent. The Saviour’s command does not apply to her. You should go find her. Track her down and make her pay for what she’s done to you. Stop her before she has a chance to use her magic to hurt those you love. You won’t need magic to end her. You’ve killed dozens without it. What’s one more?

“Enough!” Killian spat. His heart pounded in his chest and a cold sweat came over him as he realized he’d moved from the sofa to the door. The knob held firmly in his hand, the intent to turn it and walk out into the night still rooted in his subconscious.

“Killian?”

Emma tossed and punched at her pillow. For the eightieth time. Despite how exhausted she felt, how fried her mind and nerves were, she couldn’t bring herself to actually fall asleep. Not with the Dark One downstairs.

Emma hadn’t truly understood what it meant. Being the Dark One. When Regina had mentioned it earlier in the storage room, the title had held no meaning to her. She knew, based on David’s reaction and Killian’s behavior in the loft that it couldn’t be anything good, but she trusted Killian. He was a good man, and clearly the fact that he was the Dark One hadn’t put Henry off of befriending or trusting him all this time.

She’d seen the fear in Killian’s eyes, the earnest pleading for her to help him try and control whatever sinister affect this Darkness was having on him. With just the quick rant about never being his own master, Emma knew what it had cost him to ask her to take the dagger. Using the favor he held over her was telltale in just how important her compliance was to him.

She knew he was Captain Hook. That realization hit her in the hallway of the hospital as Henry lay cursed, and really settled into her in the Town Hall when she saw the reaction of the town’s people when Belle had outed him. When she’d heard what he’d done to her, that he’d almost killed her and had murdered Rumplestiltskin, she’d had a moment’s difficulty reconciling the villain with the man she knew.

Then he’d reunited Jefferson with his daughter, and that good man was evident right there in front of her once more. He might have been Captain Hook, but Killian Jones was a good man. Except, he wasn’t just Killian Jones now. He was also the Dark One.

After she and Henry turned in for the night, Emma spent hours reading through the storybook. She found it served as a suitable distraction to the things her mind wasn’t ready to address or process just yet. Henry had taken her through her parent’s story, her story, but with the long night before her, there were other stories she was interested in.

The story of Killian Jones. Captain Hook and his Crocodile. Rumplestiltskin. The Dark One.

She’d poured over the pages. Stories of cowardice and betrayal were juxtaposed against loyalty and good form. Heartbreak that fueled villainy as they both quested to right a wrong, by whatever means necessary. Means, Emma knew, the stories only scratched the surface of; a chilling darkness running much deeper in acts too grievous to display upon the page. Acts that had spanned centuries.

David had been right to be wary, Captain Hook was not to be trusted. Neither was the Dark One.

Killian Jones, however… he was another matter altogether.

The sound of voices from downstairs pulled Emma from her thoughts. Had Henry gotten up and gone downstairs, waking Killian up in the process? Emma crawled out of bed with the intentions of getting Henry back into his, but when she passed by her son’s room he was in bed fast asleep. Then who is Killian talking to?

“Killian?” she called out as she made her way down the stairs, finding him stopped in the middle of the living room. “I thought I heard voices. Who were you talking to?”

“Just talking to myself,” he replied, clearly on edge about something. “Old habit from many nights on the lonely seas.”

“Hmm,” Emma hummed. It wasn’t an all out lie, but his words didn’t ring true either. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask the same thing of you, love,” Killian deflected.

“I asked you first.” Really, Emma? What is this, third grade?

Killian made his way to the sofa and sank down into the cushions with a heavy sigh. “The Darkness does not require sleep, so as the Dark One, it seems neither do I.” He played with his rings as he spoke, but stopped when he turned his attention to her. “Your turn, Swan. What’s keeping you up at this hour?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Emma scoffed sarcastically. “Maybe the fact that my parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and my son was raised by the Evil Queen. Or the fact that I helped Cinderella keep her baby, and her best friend is both Little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf.” She was pacing now, the reality she’d suppressed all night now flowing out of her like a tidal wave. “Not to mention that the person I am closest to in this entire town, or the whole world for that matter, is Captain freaking Hook, whom I saved from getting hit by a car. With. Magic.” Killian stared at her from over the back of the sofa, and Emma suddenly felt self-conscious about her rant. Moving to sit with him, she added, “I may have been reading Henry’s book.”

Killian’s slightly stunned expression became one of panic before it slowly transformed into something softer, with a wisp of smugness as he recounted, “Closer to than anyone else in the world?”

“Of course that’s what you would get out of all that.” Emma rolled her eyes as he chuckled, and for a moment everything felt so… normal. It felt like them. Emma and Killian, not the Saviour and Captain Hook. It could have been any other night, with easy banter and over-the-top flirty overtures. Any other night when Emma might get lost in Killian’s forget-me-not eyes and wonder if things would ever move past the stage of longing.

Emma felt a blush creep across her face as she remembered her efforts to try and push them past that stage. Had it really only been last night when she’d drunkenly tried to pull him into her bed? “Killian, about last night.”

“Swan, you don’t have to-”

“No. I want to thank you.” She cut him off and took his hand in hers, causing that stunned look to settle on his face again. “I want you to know that I appreciate you being honest with me. Wanting to wait until I really knew. And now that I do… now that I know you’re actually Captain Hook, and the…”

“The Dark One,” he supplied despondently, his eyes cast down with a hint of resignation.

“I want you to know that it doesn’t change the way I feel about the Killian Jones I’ve come to know.”

Killian’s eyes snapped up to meet hers, wide with a small spark of hope as he tentatively pressed, “But?”

“But,” she continued, intertwining her fingers with his in an effort to stoke that hope. “I’m going to need some time to process all this. I mean, my parents are Snow White and Prince Charming, and I have magic, and you are actually Captain Hook.”

“Without the perm and waxed mustache,” Killian teased, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Or the hook.”

“The one benefit of the curse, love,” Killian responded, both of them now smiling fondly at the memory of having the same conversation all those weeks ago.

“Just… be patient?” Emma asked.

“I seem to remember you saying that to me once before, too,” Killian reminded.

Emma shuddered slightly at the memory of her being suspended in the mine shaft, attempting to rescue Henry and the dashing rapscallion before her. “Yeah. Just before you nearly plummeted to your death.”

“Well, the one upside to being the Dark One is that I’m immortal now, so I quite literally have all the time in the world. Even if another car appears out of nowhere and tries to kill me.” He stared at her pointedly with raised brows, and Emma’s nerves spiked at the reminder of the car, and the two men, and the fact that she had magic.

“Hey,” Killian soothed, rubbing small circles over her wrist, perceptive as ever. “Everything’s going to be okay. No use worrying yourself until we know more about what those men remember, and we won’t know that until we meet everyone in the morning.”

Emma took a deep breath and nodded, offering him a small smile before she stood to head back upstairs. “You going to be okay?”

“Aye, love. You don’t need to worry about me.” Emma’s superpower wasn’t too sure about that statement. “Go get some rest, Swan. I’ve a feeling you’ll be needing it. Just know that whatever tomorrow throws at us, we’ll face it together.”

That statement, however… nothing had ever rang more true.

“Captain! Captain!”

Killian turned to see Smee crossing the street, approaching them just as they’d made their way to Granny’s the next morning. He told Emma and Henry to go on ahead and that he’d meet them inside shortly, then greeted his first mate.

“Ah, Mr. Smee. It’s good to see that you’re your old self again.”

“You too, Sir. I’ve been looking for you since the curse broke. Where have you been?”

“I’ve had things to attend to, Mr. Smee,” Killian replied sharply, not caring for his first mate’s impertinence.

“Of course, Sir,” Smee said apologetically. “I was just wondering if I ought to be rounding up the crew. If you planned for us to set sail soon.”

“Not quite, Mr. Smee. It seems there is no safe passage out of Storybrooke.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anyone who crosses over the town line reverts back to their cursed self. I’m not willing to test whether or not the same holds true if we stray too far out to sea, are you Mr. Smee?”

“Oh. Well… no, of course not.” Smee’s face fell at the news. “So what do we do now?

“Now,” Killian replied. “We bide our time and wait. I’ve business to attend to this morning and have no plans to open the shop today. Carry on as you wish, but stay at the ready. I may have need of you.”

“Aye, Captain.” With his orders received Killian made his way into the diner as Smee set off to do… whatever it was Smee did in his free time.

Settled in one of the booths next to Emma, Killian listened to the various reports of the happenings from the previous evening and overnight. The prince and princess relayed all that had happened when they’d returned to Town Hall, including the reunion of David’s wife Katherine, really Princess Abigail, with her love Frederick. It had been decided that the fairies would oversee the continued task of helping people reunite with their loved ones, while also compiling a list of cursed personas to real identities. Killian couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw an astonishingly rare expression of happiness and possibly a slight blush on Leroy’s face at the mention of one of the fairies.

The expression lasted only a moment though, as he was then tasked to give an account of the dwarves’ overnight stake-out on the Queen’s home. There had still been no sign of Regina, her house remained dark and quiet all throughout the night, leading all those present to believe she must be holed up in her vault. Emma and Graham agreed to go and check it out after they adjourned, which left Graham to give his report on the two men from the town line.

“How are they?” Emma inquired, wringing her hands beneath the table, which Killian stilled as he took one of them in his.

“Whale says they’ll be fine. They’re both conscious, but are being held for observation just to be on the safe side.”

“Who are they?” Mary Margaret pressed. “What did they say when you questioned them about the accident?”

It felt as though their entire assembly held their breath as they awaited the sheriff’s answer.

“They’re brothers by the names of John and Michael Banks. They were just on a drive up the coast and got distracted referencing their map when they saw the sign for Storybrooke. They said the last thing they remembered was double checking the route on their GPS then waking up at the hospital.”

“So they didn’t see the magic?” David clarified.

“No,” Graham assured them. “In fact they were worried I was going to cite them for driving while distracted.”

Killian let out a sigh of relief. “So how long are we going to have to endure their presence in town?”

“Whale said barring any complications, they’ll be released tomorrow morning.”

“And Tillman thinks it’ll take three or four days to get their car running well enough to leave town,” Ruby chimed in as she sidled up next to Graham.

“Tell him the sooner the better.” Killian squeezed Emma’s hand as he spoke, and she responded with a grateful smile that had his heart fluttering.

“Right,” David announced as he stood. “I think it’s time we all get to work, then. Snow and I will check in with Blue at Town Hall. Emma, Killian, and Graham will be on Regina patrol.”

The prince and princess took their leave, with Leroy hot on their heels expressing his desire to assist the fairies.

“Does that mean I get to come with you guys?” Henry asked excitedly as Killian and Emma made their way out of the booth.

“Sorry, kid,” Emma responded, dropping Killian’s hand as she pulled her coat back on. “But you’re staying with Ruby. She’s gonna watch after you while we look for Regina.”

“Actually,” Ruby hedged apologetically, “there’s something I need to take care of this morning.” She and Graham shared a significant look before she turned and inquired, “Killian, you haven’t, by chance, seen a red cloak at the pawn shop, have you?”

“Not that I recall. Why?”

Graham wrapped an arm around Ruby’s shoulder and gave her an encouraging nod, prompting her to continue. “The full moon is in a couple of days, and with magic being back there’s a chance that I’ll… you know.” Killian could see the fear in Ruby’s eyes. Compassion sparked within him, but the Darkness was quick to try and snuff it out. Greedy for a desperate soul to entice and entrap. “In our realm, the cloak kept me from transforming. I have no memory of ever seeing it in town, and if I can’t find it before the full moon I’ll need a place where I can transform without hurting anyone. Graham’s offered to let me make… modifications to a room in his cabin. I need to get started so everything will be ready in time. Just in case.”

Killian could see the Crocodile’s gleeful expression out of the corner of his eye and had to fight back the instinct, both as the Dark One and a pirate, to work Ruby’s anxiety to his advantage. There was a wardrobe of cloaks in the back room of the shop. Believing they’d be of no use or interest to anyone in town while under the curse, he hadn’t bothered to really look them over. If Ruby’s cloak was among them, what would she be willing to offer to get it back? What might he wish to extract from her in exchange?

Killian clenched his jaw and shook the thought from his head, throwing a glare at the Crocodile as a growl rumbled low in his chest.

“Killian?” Emma said softly, her hand coming to rest on his forearm. “What is it?”

Killian snapped back and hurriedly assured, “Nothing. Everything’s fine.” The confused and wary expressions staring back at him attested to their disbelief, and Killian let go a long suffering sigh before confessing, “The cloak may be at the shop. There’s a wardrobe in the back room containing garments, but I haven’t taken a good enough look before to assess what all it contains. I can go by there later and check, and if it is there… you are welcome to it.” He had to force out the last part of his statement, an itching desire crawled under his skin that not even Emma’s touch could alleviate, and flared at Graham’s question.

“What’s your price?”

Killian swallowed and steadied himself. “I’m no longer in the business of making deals. I won’t give in so easily.” Killian couldn’t help but direct that comment to the figment seated at the bar, even if it caused the others to cast glances that way as well. “Go and make whatever provisions you feel might be necessary, just in case the cloak isn’t there.”

“What about Henry?” Emma reminded.

“I’ll stay here with the lad,” Killian offered. “Might be best if I stay back anyway. Her Majesty has a way of bringing out the worst in me, and right now,” Killian faced them all with a self-deprecating smile and an attempt of levity rolling off his tongue, “I think we can all agree that’s something we ought to avoid.”

They stood assessing him for a moment. Ruby was the first to respond, surprising them all as she wrapped her arms around to hug him.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I knew you were still the same old Jones.”

Killian balked at her words, his eyes met Graham’s whose reflected Ruby’s sentiment in the way he now took in the pirate before him. Ruby kissed Graham goodbye, ruffled Henry’s hair, and called out a farewell to them all before heading out of the diner, but not before reminding Killian to let her know what he discovered about her cloak.

Killian felt Emma take his hand, her eyes searching his as she asked, “Are you sure you and Henry are going to be okay here?”

“Aye, love,” Killian assured. “The diner’s the safest place we could be right now. I doubt Regina would come after Henry in such a public place. Besides, I’d like to see her get past Granny’s crossbow,” he added cheekily, throwing a smirk at Granny who was stowing said weapon behind the counter. “Besides, I wouldn’t feel comfortable taking him out in town, let alone to the pawn shop just yet. There’s no telling how the newly released magic is affecting some of the items. Best for him to wait until we can have the fairies give it the all clear.”

“Okay, then,” Emma relented. “We’ll see you at the sheriff station later with David and Mary Margaret. Just… be careful. Regina is still out there somewhere.”

“I promise you, Swan. No harm will come to your boy whilst he’s in my charge,” Killian vowed earnestly, and he noticed some of the tension she’d been carrying leave her shoulders as she squeezed his hand one last time before turning her attention to Henry.

“Alright, kid. Be good for Killian, and I’ll see you later.” Emma wrapped her arms around her son as he said see you later, then watched him scramble onto the barstool Granny had just set a cup of hot cocoa down at. “Ready to go?” Emma turned to Graham, but a look of hesitation sat heavily upon the man’s face.

“Actually, before we head out… Jones, can I talk to you for a second?” Graham gestured them toward the back hallway and the three made their way out of earshot of the diner’s patrons.

“What’s up, mate?”

“I was wondering,” Graham began nervously, “since there’s magic here now, if you would put this back where it’s supposed to be.”

Killian drew in a sharp breath as Graham pulled his heart from the inside pocket of his jacket, and heard Emma gasp next to him causing him to meet her wide eyes.

Killian swallowed and remorsefully replied, “I would if I could mate, but I-I’m afraid I can’t.”

“You’re the Dark One, don’t you have magic?”

“Aye, but it’s complicated.” Graham had seen the dagger the day before, had heard Belle say that it was the only weapon that could kill the Dark One, but Killian wasn’t sure how much the man might know about its controlling affects, and as much as he may have come to trust the sheriff, Killian wasn’t ready for that secret to be shared by too many people within town. Besides, he didn’t need Killian’s magic. “Not to worry though. I might not be able to put your heart back, but Emma can.”

“Emma can what now?!” his Swan hissed next to him.

“You have magic Swan, you can do this.”

“Killian!” She stared at him incredulously. “That’s Graham’s heart.”

“Aye.”

“That Regina ripped out of his chest.”

“Aye.”

“And you expect me to put it back?”

“Aye.”

“Stop saying that!”

Killian winced at the unintended command, and Emma’s eyes screwed shut, “Damn it! Killian, I’m sorry. Say… say whatever you want,” she affirmed apologetically.

“Wait. Sorry for what?” Graham asked. “Why can’t you-”

“Do you want that heart back in your chest or not?” Killian interjected curtly.

“Aye,” Graham replied, earning him glares from Killian and Emma both. “Sorry,” he muttered before handing his heart to Emma.

Emma stared down at the heart in her hand, shaking her head as her voice nearly betrayed her in its denial. “I-I can’t do this.”

“Yes, Swan. You can.”

Killian glanced past Graham and saw the Crocodile looking on. Emma may have commanded him to not use magic, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share the inherent knowledge he now possessed in how to wield it. Something in the demon’s eyes gave him a moment’s pause, but Killian brushed it aside. He wasn’t asking Emma to do anything dark with her magic, and despite her doubts, he knew that she would want to do whatever she could to help Graham.

“How?”

“Will it,” Killian instructed. “Magic isn’t an intellectual endeavor. It’s emotion. Look inward and ask yourself, why am I doing this? Who am I helping? Just… feel it, Swan.”

Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, Killian saw a flash of resolve in her eyes just before a quick burst of magic allowed her to place Graham’s heart back into his chest. The sheriff gasped at the sensation, eyes blinking wildly before they fixed themselves on Emma’s astonished face.

“I did it,” Emma stated, her stunned tone matching her expression.

“You did it,” Graham astonished back.

“I knew you could do it, Swan,” Killian affirmed. A sense of pride welled in his chest at her accomplishment, and perhaps at the part he’d played in it. A part that was met with the greatest reward he could have imagined when Emma threw her arms around him and whispered an earnest thank you into his ear.

Chapter Twenty-Four 

Tagging some lovelies that have asked to be tagged, as well as some we believe might enjoy. Please let us know if you do, or don’t wish to be tagged.

@abeylin1982 @best-left-hook-jones @eala-captian @aprilqueen84 @artistic-writer @branlovesouat @captain-k-jones @captain-swan-coffee @cocohook38 @downeystarkjr @flipperbrain @florenzu @freakassbuthunter @gingerchangeling @goldengirlschildhood @golfgirld @greenleaf777  @ilovemesomekillianjones @in-spirational @jennjenn615 @joneskillian @jsilva0117 @juliakaze @kmomof4 @kymbersmith-90 @laschatzi @leiaswanjoneskid @lifeismadeup-ofmoments @like-waves-on-the-beach @linda8084 @mariakov81 @natascha-remi-ronin @onceuponaprincessworld @resident-of-storybrooke @rookiehookie @seriouslyhooked @smutqueen27 @snidgetintheapple @supergirl42universe @teamhook @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @ultraluckycatnd @whimsicallyenchantedrose @wordsmith-storyweaver @xhookswenchx @yayimallamaagain

#cs ff #cs canon divergent #cursed killian #dark hook #season 1 #dark hook comes to storybrooke #cs #cs fic #captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #winterbaby89writes #words by hollye

[hazelwilliamsblog]

Boutique Scents: The Luxury Fragrance Houses You Should Know

Discovering that someone else wears the same scent as you is kind of underwhelming. OK, if you like the person it’s bearable, but many iconic fragrances have been killed by bosses from hell, idiot classmates and irritating colleagues. Fragrance is often a very personal, considered choice and we like to pretend we’re the only ones who know about it. Of course, this is pretty unrealistic given that the major brands lurk on every continent, in every duty free, in every department store across the globe. Retaining exclusivity for the major houses comes down to restricting the availability on a single line or special collaboration and customisation services in the form of engraving or ribbons to make your bottle seem unique, while pumping the rest of the product into as many outlets as possible: it’s boring and predictable. Meanwhile, a truly bespoke scent is so expensive it’s reserved for kind of people who snap up a Tom Ford suit on their lunch break.

These days consumers are often missing a sense of discovery and a product that feels personal to them – and this is where the niche, luxury fragrance house comes in. The shopping experience is usually a more rewarding one with well trained, knowledgeable staff able to guide you through the collection. These brands tend to ignore gender marketing, eschew paying dead-eyed celebrities megabucks to front their creations and expect the customer to judge a scent on the quality alone (plus the sexy packaging, naturally). Clearly, you will pay a premium for the privilege of wearing something less people have access to. Still, it’s better than catching Dave from accounts wafting around in your signature scent.

So, if you’re in the market for something both interesting and personal, here’s our rundown of some of the finest – old and new – luxury perfume houses.

Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle

During the 1990s perfumer Frédéric Malle became frustrated with the commercial direction of some of the major perfume houses. To help preserve the creativity in the industry, he established the Editions de Parfums Frederic Malle as a “publishing house for the industry’s very best Perfume Designers”. Over the years the house has given a platform to some of the biggest names in the business including Dominique Ropion, Jean-Claude Ellena and Edmond Roudnitska (the fabled creator of Dior Eau Sauvage) and collaborated with fashion houses such as Dries Van Noten and the former head of Lanvin, Alber Elbaz.

The collection now contains a veritable list of modern classics. If you get the chance, the standalone boutiques are worth a visit too.

Try: Musc Ravageur by Maurice Roucel

One of the most well-known scents in the collection, Musc Ravageur is powerful, sweet and sexy; heavy on vanilla, spices and animalic musk.

£175 for 100ml; fredericmalle.co.uk

Clive Christian

Sometimes it feels like Clive Christian perfumes are more well known for diamond studded lids and gold-plated bottles than for the actual juice inside. We’re not always convinced by the old, “it’s so pricey, it must be good” theory. Certain natural ingredients, like orris or jasmine, might cost more than gold but truthfully, beyond a certain point you’re paying for the name and the halo of mystique. Still, the perfume heads approve, so if want to drop £500 on a good scent, Clive Christian won’t disappoint.

It’s a house with a history that stretches back to Queen Victoria’s reign. In 1872 she gave permission for the image of her crown to be replicated on the bottles of The Crown Perfumery. Clive Christian acquired the company and archives in 1999 – and set about making reassuringly expensive scents that often come in pairs. The 30ml bottles are a good entry point for those on a budget – use sparingly.

Try: X Masculine Edition

From the original collection launched in 1999, X is a woody, spicy vetiver with amazing staying power (due to the high 20% concentration).

£375 for 100ml; clivechristian.com

MiN New York

Chad Murawczyk and Mindy Yang launched Scent Stories, a collection of 11 scents, in 2014 that’s now grown to 18. Having curated and sourced unique fragrances for private clients since the late 1990s, Murawuczyk had access to some to the top perfumers in the world.

Known for its innovative, abstract fragrances, it’s the scent destination for customers who want something modern and conceptual. With evocative names like Moon Dust, Long Board and Dahab, each scent is like like a chapter in a bigger story and a long way from stuffy, traditional perfume.

Try: Chef’s Table

Imagine a chopping board full of fresh herbs and produce and you’ve got this: fresh, green and very edible.

£60 for 15ml; min.com

Creed

The French fragrance house was established in 1760 and is still run by the Creed family, with Olivier and son, Erwin, currently at the helm. It’s long attracted an exclusive patronage of Royals and celebrities alike and creates scents that the rest of the market scrambles to “emulate” (read: shamelessly copy). Silver Mountain Water, Green Irish Tweed and Millésime Imperial are all solid performers that deserve their spot in any gentleman’s collection.

Try: Creed Aventus

Accept no substitutions: this fruity, woody scent was launched to celebrate Creed’s 250th birthday, honouring a long tradition of ground-breaking fragrance releases.

£265 for 100ml; creedfragrances.co.uk

Kilian

Perfumer Killian Hennessey comes from good stock: he’s part of the famous Cognac family and the “H” in LVMH (Louis Vuitton Moët Hennessey). He swerved joining the family business to concentrate on bringing his own passion project to life in 2007: a luxury fragrance house. His innovative designs have also included scented cuff links and accessories. Behind the scenes, he works with big names like Alberto Morillas. Since the early days his fragrance bottles have been refillable, so you only need one – unless you want to collect them all…

Try: Back to Black, Aphrodisiac

Honey and tobacco are not the most likely combination but this works like catnip – on some!

£225 for 50ml; bykilian.co.uk

Vilhelm Parfumerie

Before Swedish/American Jan Ahlgren founded New York-based Vilhelm Parfumerie he was working in fashion. Then, in 2015, a collaboration with perfumer Jerome Epinette to create scented leather accessories led to the swift decision to establish his own fragrance label. Packaged in squat bottles with signature orange caps and simple labels, VP is an exercise in minimal luxe.

Try: Morning Chess

A smoky, leathery patchouli with a dark green undercurrent that’s inspired by Ahlgren’s holidays in Falkenberg, playing chess with his grandfather. Also worth investigating: Basilico & Fellini, Dear Polly and Dirty Velvet.

£155 for 100ml; libertylondon.com

Trudon

Cire Trudon are known for their cult scented candles but the fragrance line still flies a little under the radar. We were surprised when the fragrance collection launched with seven entirely new scents, and not eau de parfum versions of the home fragrance lines (we’d love the chance to wear Ciel, but there you go). Sophisticated in scent and design, there’s a fragrance here to suit even the most discerning of tastes.

Try: Olim

Clove, benzoin and myrrh are the main components in smoky, spicy Olim.

£180 for 100ml; harveynichols.com

The Perfumer’s Story by Azzi

Azzi Glasser is known as the private perfumer to the stars. She’s spent much of her career creating bespoke scents for private clients including Hollywood actors Orlando Bloom, Tom Hardy, Jude Law and Johnny Depp. She’s also created fragrances for Topman, Bella Freud and Agent Provocateur and London hot spot, Chiltern Firehouse. In 2015 she launched her signature collection and has since collaborated with creatives such as Rankin, James Lavelle, Jonas Äkerlund and Kingsman. She matches her scents to characters and style to help customers navigate the collection.

Try: Old Books

Bookworms who love the nostalgia of vintage paperbacks will appreciate this earthy patchouli accord.

£95 for 30ml; theperfumersstory.com

Floris London

The British answer to Creed is Floris London. It was founded in 1730 by Juan Famenias Floris, and opened his first store at 89 Jermyn Street, where it still stands today, run by his direct descendants, the Bodenham family. Floris obtained its first Royal warrant in 1820 for a smooth comb made for King George IV. Winston Churchill wore Stephanotis and Special No. 27, whereas Bond author, Ian Fleming, preferred No.89. These are classic perfumes, steeped in heritage.

Try: Santal

Vanilla and lavender with a fresh bergamot opening and spicy undertones of clove. It’s rich and smooth in equal measure.

£80 for 100ml; florislondon.com

The post Boutique Scents: The Luxury Fragrance Houses You Should Know appeared first on Ape to Gentleman.

Boutique Scents: The Luxury Fragrance Houses You Should Know syndicated from https://manscapedshop.wordpress.com/

[killian-whump]

Once GTKY

No one tagged me that I know of. I just like answering questions and doing whatever the hell I want :) Also, I don’t know what this has to do with the Greater Kentucky Credit Union, but I’m here anyway.

Rules: Copy the bolded questions and answer them yourself! Don’t forget the specific question that was posed to you by the person who tagged you. (See “Individual question for the people you tag”). Then tag up to 7 people, one for each season. Or just, like, do whatever you want. - kw

Musical episode: Yay or nay?

Definitely yay! There were parts I liked more (Revenge, the opening Snowing number, the wedding number) than others (the Regina/Snowing duel song, Emma’s song, Zelena’s number (sorry)), but overall the whole thing was so much fun to watch and I wish there were, like, 20 more of them.

When did you start watching Once, and do you remember why?

4a for the Frozen arc. Not what you were expecting, eh? ;) I was a casual watcher from the pilot up through 3b, and my faves were Regina and Hook (yes, in that order ;)) but I started watching religiously for the Frozen arc, because Frozen actually holds a VERY dear place in my heart. Once I was in the habit of watching, I kept watching... and in the S5 hiatus, I went Hook-mad (can’t imagine why ;)) and re-watched everything. Later, I made this blog :)

What made watching Once worthwhile?

Colin O’Donoghue. Hook. All versions. Regina. Meeting you guys <3

First + Current Main Ships?

First ship... Hooked Queen, original recipe. I was so pissed that they were putting the sexy pirate with Emma instead of my favorite character. During my rewatch, I saw the charm of CS and started shipping it. But I’m a multi-shipper at heart. My main ship now is Hooked Queen, new recipe ;) I favor CS for Storybrooke Hook.

First + Current Favorite character?

Regina was my favorite. Honestly, I LOVED her and was “meh” about everyone else in S1, hence my only casual viewership and ultimate dislike for that season. One good character is not enough to get me watching a show :/ From S2 on, it was Regina and Hook. I added Zelena as a third fave in S3. Currently, my faves are Hook, Regina, Zelena in that order :)

Favorite arc (Why?)?

Underworld arc, for super top secret reasons.

Favorite plot twist?

Killian being a Dark One. I dunno, man, I just didn’t see it coming until it was coming, and I was absolutely making that shockedmonkey.gif face the whole scene.

Hardest death to watch?

Hook’s... umm... third death? Because the first two were obviously “non-sticky” deaths you knew he’d come back from, but DAMN that third one looked pretty fucking real and I legit thought he might be leaving the show. Then Emma said she was going into the Underworld to get him back and I was like, “Oh, okay. This might be excellent, actually.” And then it was.

This character should have gotten more time?

Hook. I mean, there will never be a time when you’ll ever hear me say, “Oh, there was just enough of Colin O’Donoghue in this” because I will ALWAYS wish there was more of him. Always. But I think they should’ve kept Hyde around as a “redeemed” villain. His backstory was begging for it, and watching him and the Evil Queen flounce around town was so delightful.

How do you summarize the show to your friends? (max. 3 sentences):

Silly fairytale show and fairytale people and fairytale stuff. Has that guy I like in it.

Favorite Once specific trope (think Memory Wipe, Family Trees, Glowing Walkey-Talkey Hearts, Head Achey Timelines…)

Heart-ripping. It looks so dramatic onscreen and is so ripe for whumpy fics and art, but at the same time, the bts reality of it is hilarious to me XD “Dig your fingers into his chest and then YANK your hand away really violently. Then hold still while a stage hand runs over and sneaks a rubbery heart into your hand. It’ll look all glowy and cool in the show, but it looks like a mis-shapen bouncy ball for now. Just go with it. Major drama. Annnnnnnnd action!”

Three quotes that mean a lot to you?

Honestly, I don’t think there’s a lot of quotes from the show that mean a lot to me. For some reason, I’m very fond of the “You’re impossible.” “And you love me for it.” exchange in 5x14. It seems to make its way into my fics a lot. Honestly, there’s more quotes of Colin’s that mean something to me. All the times he mentions how much he likes getting knocked out or how he’s not averse to Hook getting tied up... because I would be genuinely upset if I thought he would be uncomfortable with the subject of my blog, but I legitimately think he'd be okay with it - and that means a lot to me. It also means a LOT to me whenever I hear other actors talk about how kind Colin is and how great he is to work with. It warms my heart to know I’m supporting such a good guy. Also, there’s something Colin said at a convention about love itself being a spiritual thing to him and I can’t find it now and that makes me sad, but it really meant a lot to me that he feels that way, because it’s something I feel very strongly about. I’ve got it somewhere. I’ll probably find it 30 seconds after I post this.

Favourite funny scene?

Zelena hitting the Black Fairy with her car. Hands down.

Favorite Platonic Ship:

Captain Charming.

Favorite dish from Granny’s?

Hook. What? He’s a dish, and he lived in the B&B for awhile.

What part of the newly merged realms would you like to live in?

Storybrooke. Never underestimate indoor plumbing.

SherlockianWhovian’s Question: Favourite version of Hook?

Tortured Hook. Although as more traditional versions go, I have to admit I have a soft spot for Detective Rogers, because his sweet smiles and guileless muffinness just... I just wanna pull him to my bosom and love him.

I’m not gonna tag anybody, so just do this if you like answering questions and, you know, just wanna do it cos you feel like doing it :)

#tag games #without being tagged #this is how i roll #not whxmp #about me

[hollyethecurious]

Dark Hook Comes to Storybrooke - Chapter 13

A Captain Swan, Season 1 Canon Divergence Collaboration by: @hollyethecurious, and @winterbaby89

Beta’d by: @ilovemesomekillianjones / Artwork by: @xhookswenchx

Rated M for language and dark themes (and maybe some sexy times… later ;o)

Summary: Moments before the Evil Queen’s Dark Curse whisks our beloved fairytale characters to Storybrooke, Captain Hook finally gets his revenge on the Crocodile. Twenty-eight years later, Killian Jones awakes in Storybrooke expecting just another ordinary day, that is until a number of abnormal occurrences disrupts his otherwise scheduled life. The greatest of which is a new face in town. A young woman by the name of Emma. Emma. What a lovely name…

Disclaimer: Canon dialogue and scenes from various episodes will appear within this fic. To Adam, Eddie, and the OUAT writers goes all the credit.

Line breaks indicate a change in POV or scene

Also available on ao3, winterbaby89′s fic page, and my fics page  / Chapter 12

Chapter 13 

Killian made his way down the stone steps inside Regina’s mausoleum that led to the vault below. The musty, earthen air permeated his senses, sticking in his throat causing it to dry out. Stifling the urge to clear it, and risk drawing the Queen’s attention, Killian watched as she drew a box from a collection amassed in the wall of an alcove. Opening the box revealed the glowing heart of the Huntsman. Killian took a deep breath of resolve and stepped out from the shadows just as she grasped the enchanted organ.

“I wouldn’t do that, love.”

Regina’s head snapped toward him, eyes wide with indignation as she spat, “Get. Out. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Afraid it does,” he sighed as he sauntered toward her. “See, I made a vow. A vow to the lad. He asked for my help in retrieving that heart, and I mean to see it through.”

“Henry?” Her voice shook slightly as she realized the implication of his words. “Henry knows that I…”

“Indeed he does,” Killian replied. “He knows the truth. About us both. And he’s tasked me with a mission of saving our good sheriff from your clutches, so I’ll be returning that to its rightful owner.” He opened his hand toward her expectantly, but Regina hesitated. “Don’t make me have to say please,” he taunted menacingly, forcing her to hand Graham’s heart to him.

“Extraordinary isn’t it?” he mused, more taunts dancing at the end of his tongue. “All these hearts. All this power and control, hell, even a curse to do your bidding, and it still isn’t enough. It’s all slipping away, Your Majesty. Tonight’s altercation is proof enough, even if you choose to ignore the signs around you. Your reign is coming to an end, and when it does… you’re going to lose everything.”

“And what about you, Hook? You can play hero all you want, but you and I both know the kind of man you truly are… what you are,” Regina sneered.

“Aye. We do,” he acknowledged with a feigned air of apathy. “But unlike you, Regina, I can admit my villainy. My quest for vengeance cost me everything. That’s how I know you’ll lose in the end. Just like I did. But worse.”

“Worse? What could possibly be worse than being the Dark One?”

“Resigning yourself to it,” he answered, and in that moment Killian knew that not all hope for him was lost. He could still fight. Fight the darkness. Fight his own villainy. Fight for Henry and Emma, fight for himself. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets. “My name might be scrawled across that dagger, but that doesn’t mean I have to give into its darkness. I’ve already endured several lifetimes living up to a persona of darkness and villainy afforded to me by a piece of hardware. I won’t do it again.”

“You really think you can change that easily?”

“I never said it would be easy,” he countered. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Graham to decide a different path with a dark and sinister hold on his heart, but he did it.”

“Sure. Because of her,” Regina groused indignantly, and continued to mutter her displeasure as though he weren’t there, “I still don’t understand what’s so special about that woman.”

“Don’t you?” Killian smirked smugly with a lifted brow.

“What?” Regina demanded, her attention once again on him. “What do you know?”

“I know a great many things, dearie,” Killian taunted, but then cringed at the crocodile’s vernacular.

Killian could see speculation beginning to swirl behind Regina’s eyes as she considered that Emma might be more than a mere nuisance to her otherwise perfectly planned and structured existence.

“She’s important, isn’t she?” It was more a statement of fact than a question.

“Important? Well, I suppose in as much as she gave birth to Henry, aye, she’s important,” Killian deflected.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Are you asking why everything seems to be crumbling now that Emma Swan is in town?” Killian asked rhetorically. “Well, to answer that Regina, you may want to take Swan’s answer into consideration. Maybe it isn’t her. Maybe it’s you,” he suggested, attempting to redirect Regina’s thoughts, lest she figure out the significance Emma held in breaking the curse.

“No,” Regina rebutted. “It’s her. It has to be. None of this started until she came to town.”

“Really?” Killian shot back. “So, Henry didn’t already suspect you were the Evil Queen who cursed us all? Come now, Your Majesty. You know none of this is Emma’s fault. Just pure coincidence.”

Killian used every bit of bluster and pirate deception he possessed to sell the idea that Swan was of no greater consequence than Henry’s birth mother, but he was fairly certain that Regina wasn’t buying any of it. She’d begun pulling at the thread of possibility that there was more to Emma than met the eye, and no amount of misdirection would deter her until she’d unraveled it.

“No. I don’t believe in coincidence,” Regina continued on, following her speculations as though they were weaving themselves within the walls of her vaults. “Pretend all you like Captain, but there is something about Ms. Swan, and I will get to the bottom of it. I’ve lost all I’m going to lose to that woman.”

“Including the Huntsman’s heart. Which I ought to be returning,” Killian needled. He took the opportunity to excuse himself before he said anything more that could aid Regina in putting the pieces together about Emma. “Pleasure as always, Your Majesty.”

“Do you really think she’s going to choose you over him, Captain?” Regina inquired after him as his boot hit the first step that led out of her crypt. “Give Graham his heart back and it will only intensify the feelings he has. Are you really willing to risk Ms. Swan preferring his attentions over yours?”

“Swan must have hit you harder than I thought, Regina,” Killian scoffed. He kept his expression neutral, despite how much the Queen’s comments flustered him. “Who Swan chooses to give her attentions to is her affair. I came here on Henry’s behest. Perhaps you should concern yourself with his attentions from now on. It’s going to be rather difficult to pretend this is all a figment of his imagination now… Your Majesty.”

Taking a moment to revel in the reaction his parting blow had achieved, Killian offered Regina one last pointed look before turning once again to make his way up the stone steps. The Huntsman’s heart weighed heavily in his hand, the pulsating glow and flutter of life sending an unnerving current up his arm. The man’s life literally rested within the palm of his hand. So fragile, so vulnerable, and yet so intoxicating in its offer of power. The power of control, over life and death, all resting within that organ and with the one in possession of it.

Killian would be lying if he said that kind of power wasn’t tempting. The power to end the man’s pursuit of the woman Killian desired, whether by crushing his heart into dust, or merely keeping it to maintain control over him. Tempting, yes, but Killian knew first hand what is was to be in the control of others, to be powerless and at another’s mercy. Enslaved.

He didn’t want that kind of power. Not now. Not ever.

Even if it meant giving the man back that which could ultimately rob Killian of his chance with Emma, Killian would not be that man. Regina had said they both knew what kind of man Hook was, and she was right. Hook was a scoundrel, a pirate, a villain, but Killian Jones had been something else once. Something he desperately wanted to be again.

A man of honor.

Renewed in his purpose, Killian stowed Graham’s heart safely within the zippered pocket of his jacket and set off towards town. It was time to reunite the Huntsman with his heart.

Killian pulled his bike to a stop in front of the Sheriff’s Station. He wanted to give the heart back quickly, so he could be done with the man. He strolled into the bullpen to the sound of a phone being slammed into its cradle, and a very frustrated growl from a rather irate sounding Swan.

“Everything alright there, Swan? You seem vexed.” Killian questioned as he looked about for the sheriff.

“What? Oh, um.” She was clearly frazzled, hair pulled back haphazardly, and a small bandage over her eye. She was frantically pulling her jacket on as she searched for her keys and badge. “I’m sorry, Jones. Now isn’t a good time.”

Killian tried to swallow down his disappointment at her dismissal. The second he’d received from her in twenty-four hours time. He wasn’t sure how things between them had become so strained, and he had no clue as to how to fix it.

“Right. Of course,” he replied. “I was just looking for Humbert.”

“Well, good luck,” Emma snapped, her irritation grabbing Killian’s attention. “Graham ran off, and I have to go break up a bar fight.” Finding her badge under a stack of paperwork, she clipped it to her belt and turned to face him, a softness he wasn’t expecting, given her tone and manner, set within her eyes.  “Look,” she continued, “we need to talk, but I’m afraid it’s gonna have to wait.”

“I find any time a woman says that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation,” Killian teased in an attempt to alleviate some of her tension. He was rewarded with a slight half smile, still radiant when coming from Emma Swan. “Where did the good sheriff run off to?”

“Hell if I know,” she answered as she made her way to the door. “He was helping me get cleaned up from an… altercation, started prattling on about remembering something after he kissed me, named me as acting sheriff and split.”

Killian clenched and unclenched his fists at the news that Graham had again kissed his Swan again. He attempted to tamp down the gnawingly possessive instincts he knew he had no right to feel. Before Emma exited she turned back to address him one final time.

“Hey, I’m sorry about last night, and that I can’t stay and talk right now. I promise we’ll talk soon, I just…” she trailed off, her features had again softened as she apologized, but then turned hard once more as she added, “If you find Graham, will you please tell him to call me and explain what the hell is going on with him?”

“Aye, Swan. I’ll tell him.”

“Thanks, Killian,” she replied as she headed out into the night, leaving more than just promises of reconciliation in her wake.

Graham said he remembered. Remembered what, exactly? Killian mused, although he had a pretty good idea. Time to go find out.

It didn’t take Killian long to track Humbert down. The sheriff rented a cabin in the woods, a cabin that belonged to Killian, courtesy of the curse. He approached the cabin cautiously, unsure as to what state he might find the Huntsman in, and how much the man, who already fostered a severe disliking for him, would be privy to in regards to Killian’s true identity.

It took several moments after Killian knocked on the cabin door before it swung open. Shock and apprehension were apparent on Graham’s face as he regarded Killian, though he quickly schooled his expression to the standard cool yet slightly hostile demeanor usually reserved for him.

“What can I do for you Mr. Jones? I’m certain I’m not behind on my rent.”

“Afraid I’m not here about your rent, mate,” Killian replied as he pushed past an incredulous Graham and welcomed himself into the man’s domain. “I’m here on a more personal piece of business.”

“You and I have no personal business, mate,” Graham clipped.

“You’re right,” Killian acquiesced. “This business is more between you and Henry, but seeing as how the lad asked me to intervene on your behalf, you’ll have to endure my involvement… Huntsman.”

Graham’s eyes widened and the color drained from his face as he began to stammer, “How? Did Henry… I don’t know what you m-”

“I know you’re awake,” Killian responded, affirming that they both knew the curse to be real, and that he too was no longer under its effects. “I believe this belongs to you.”

Killian removed the heart from his jacket and Graham seemed to pale even more as he stiffened in panic.

“What? You have it? How did you get it from Regina?”

“Doesn’t matter mate, all that matters is I did.”

Graham visibly swallowed, clenching his fists as he asked, “What do you want?”

Killian cocked his head to one side, casting a confused look towards the Huntsman, prompting the man to clarify, “We both know you didn’t come here to just hand that over. So what’s your price… Hook?”

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me,” Killian replied, a false grin at his lips as he tucked his thumb into his belt and rocked back onto his heels, displaying his pirate swagger even as he bristled at the contempt the Huntsman continued to throw his way.

“Yes. I’ve heard of you,” Graham sneered. “I heard about how you killed Cora. That you even murdered your own fath-” Graham clasped a hand over his chest as he doubled over in response to the added pressure Killian applied to his heart.

“Then you know not to cross me,” Killian replied darkly, letting up on his grip and allowing Graham to take in a breath.

“Are you going to kill me now?” Graham accused.

“I have no such intentions, mate. Just a warning… stay away from Emma.”

“What?!”

“Emma,” Killian repeated, his possessive pirate nature flaring once more in the face of the man who had taken liberties he’d had men lashed for, or worse, in the past. “It’s bad form to trifle with that which does not belong to you.”

“She’s a grown woman,” Graham countered, “and she doesn’t belong to you either. In fact, she’s too good for you… pirate.”

“On that score we agree,” Killian replied. “She deserves to know the full truth about us before getting caught up in matters of the heart.” Both men cast a glance at the still fluttering and luminous organ within Killian’s palm, the irony not lost on either of them. “All I’m saying is,” Killian continued, “it isn’t fair to Emma to expect her love and affection when she doesn’t even know who you really are.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Graham questioned, assessing Killian with a new look; one he’d never seen the sheriff apply to him. “You don’t have to worry about that. Emma is not the one I plan on giving that to.” Graham nodded towards his heart, and an understanding passed between the two men as Killian handed it over to him.

“Without magic, I’m afraid there isn’t a way to actually return it to you properly,” Killian explained. “Though having it in your possession, under your control, will afford you the same benefit as if it were residing within your chest. Keep it somewhere safe.”

“I will,” Graham responded. “And... um… thank you.”

“Oh, I didn’t do it for you, mate.”

“I know,” Graham affirmed. “But still. I owe you one.”

Something prickled along Killian’s skin at the Huntsman’s words; a compulsion to strike those words into a deal that would later serve some dark or selfish purpose, a favor to extract at some future date. Currency of the controlling and manipulative specters that, though currently dormant within him, occasionally stirred and rippled through Killian’s consciousness, urging him to entrap desperate and unwitting souls into bargains that would ultimately be their downfall.

Burying the sensation, Killian firmly stated, “No. You don’t,” before taking his leave. A snarling disappointment that was not his own welled up within his chest as he made his way out into the night.

Killian set out the next afternoon in search of Henry. It wasn’t lost on him that he’d needed to make amends with the lad more times over the past fortnight than in the several years they’d kept company under the curse. Probably wouldn’t be the last time either, given Killian’s tendencies to fall back into old, dark habits. Habits, he hoped, would diminish over time as a more honorable man emerged. Well, as long as the Land Without Magic kept the Dark Ones at bay.

Killian could see Henry’s despondency as he approached the wooden castle on the beach, the boy’s sanctuary, and a blade of guilt twisted in his gut. How many times would he call upon this boy to forgive him? At what point would Henry’s accepting nature run out when it came to offering mercy to the infamous Captain Hook? Would today be that day?

Elbows on his knees, head in his hands, Henry didn’t even look up as Killian sat down beside him. Fiddling with his rings for a few moments, he wracked his brain for the proper opening. Something that might alleviate the tension, and open the lad up to him. With a heavy sigh, Killian decided to simply share the news of Graham’s heart and leave the lad to his thoughts.

“I retrieved the sheriff's heart from Regina,” he began softly. “Delivered it back into his hands last night.” He paused to gauge the lad’s reaction, then tried again as Henry remained quiet.  “Apparently he ran out of the Sheriff Station after kissing your mother again, leaving her as acting Sheriff. He’s fully awake now.” Henry still had not moved or shown any response to Killian’s statements, his chest tightened with grief. So this is it, then. “For what it’s worth, Henry,” he continued forlornly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Henry murmured into his hands. “You did the right thing in the end. That’s what matters.”

Taken aback by Henry’s words, Killian assessed the lad with fresh eyes and saw something that looked like a newspaper sitting in his lap. Before he could ask about it, the boy continued.

“Thank you for getting it back from my mom. She really is the Evil Queen, isn’t she.”

It wasn’t a question. Killian knew that Henry had suspected that truth for quite some time, and that his own confession had only solidified it. Still. The full weight of that knowledge seemed to have finally settled upon the lad, and Killian’s heart felt all the more heavy at the boy’s burden.

“Aye, she is,” he replied. “But she isn’t as powerful here. Especially once Emma breaks the curse.”

“She can still hurt people, though,” Henry argued, finally turning to look at Killian, and he could see clearly that it was in fact a newspaper in the boy’s lap. “Look at what almost happened to David. What could have happened to Graham. She can hurt people. Like you. Like Emma.”

“I’m not going to let that happen Henry,” Killian reassured, laying a hand on the young shoulders that were carrying far too heavy a weight.  

“She’s the Mayor. She owns the town. How are you going to stop her. How can anyone stop her?”

“Henry?” Killian began questioningly. “What’s this really about? Has something happened since you and I quarreled yesterday? Something I don’t know about?”

Henry picked up the paper from his lap and handed it over to Killian as an answer. Splashed across the front page was Emma’s mugshot from when she’d been framed, and arrested, for stealing Dr. Hopper’s files, with a large headline that read: Ex-Jailbird Emma Swan Birthed Babe Behind Bars.

The article revealed that Emma had served an eleven month sentence for being in possession of stolen watches when she was a mere seventeen years old, and while incarcerated had given birth to a child. The child currently sitting next Killian.

“Sydney wrote it,” Henry said. “But I know my mom put him up to it.”

“Most likely,” Killian agreed. Most definitely, Killian knew, and all because of him. He’d planted the thought in her mind the night prior and clearly Regina had wasted no time investigating Swan. Bloody hell! “Have you talked to Emma about this, lad?”

“Yeah. We met at the diner after school. She said the records were supposed to be sealed and wanted to make sure I wasn’t scarred for life.” Killian chuckled, it was such an Emma thing to say. “Then she said she was going to go talk with my mom, but it’s no use.”

“Why would you say that?” Killian asked. Henry’s words sounding nothing like the infernally optimistic boy Killian knew and loved.

“Because she’s the Evil Queen, and Emma is The Saviour. Good can’t beat evil because evil plays dirty. Like this,” he emphasized with a gesture at the paper. “Emma is good, and good loses. Good always loses because heroes play fair and villains don’t.”

“Good thing you’ve both got a villain for an ally, then,” Killian quipped. “Or did you forget who you were talking to, lad?”

“But you’re not really a villain,” Henry argued, filling Killian’s heart with a different sort of sensation than had been there at the start of their conversation. “Not anymore.”

“I’m still a pirate, though. And as I told you yesterday,” he reminded with a wink, “a pirate’s life is forever.”

Henry gave him a small smile and hummed an amused sound before challenging, “I thought pirates only cared about themselves.”

“Well, you’ve a lot to learn boy,” Killian answered with a smile of his own as he ruffled Henry’s hair. “Why don’t you run along home, and let me worry about Regina. Contrary to your earlier assessment, she does not own this town, and it’s high time she was reminded of that fact.”

“What are you going to do?” Henry asked with a hint of trepidation.

“Nothing unsavory, I assure you,” Killian promised. “I’ll be operating well within my legal and documented rights. Not even Emma will be able to find fault with my actions.”

Satisfied with his assurances, Henry headed off toward home while Killian made his way to the Jolly Roger. He needed to collect a certain something before making his way to the Mayor’s office. Something that would wrest even more control out of Regina’s grip.

Emma tapped her foot as she waited outside the Mayor’s office. She’d been told upon her arrival that Mayor Mills was in a very important meeting, but would be available shortly. That was forty-five minutes ago.

“How much longer is it going to be?” Emma asked, again.

“Shouldn’t be too much longer,” the receptionist replied.

“You said that fifteen minutes ago,” Emma snapped. “Who’s she meeting with, anyway?”

“Sydney Glass,” the receptionist replied offhandedly.

With that revelation, Emma decided she was done waiting. Despite the receptionist’s protests, she slammed through the office door, rattling the glass that read MAYOR in ostentatious print, and squared herself off against the two conspiring figures within.

“This was a juvie record,” she attested angrily, while waving the day’s paper in the air. “It was sealed by court order! I don’t know how you got it, but that’s abuse of power as well as illegal.”

Sydney shrank back and attempted to disappear into the wallpaper at the use of the word illegal, but Regina cast her usual unaffected, yet condescending gaze at her as she responded. “Oh, I'm sorry. You didn't want people to know you cut his cord with a shiv?” Regina attempted to be coy, but failed to hide her perverse satisfaction at the quip.

“I don't care what people know, but this hurts Henry,” Emma stated emphatically, slamming the newspaper onto the middle of Regina’s pristine desk.

“He would've learned eventually. We all lose our heroes at some point,” Regina declared with an air of cool indifference.

“He doesn't need to lose anything. He's depressed, madam mayor. Don't you see that?”

“He's fine.” Emma’s heart broke for Henry as she continued to observe Regina’s callous behavior in regards to their son. The boy she espoused to love so much.

“He's not fine,” Emma all but shouted. She paused to take a deep breath, to keep from reaching across the desk to do something rash. “I mean, think about it, watching his adoptive mother attack his birth mother with illegally obtained records on the front page of the paper? You don't think that would be the least bit upsetting to him?”

“All I did was expose him to the truth. And as for the legality, I did nothing wrong.”

“No, but Sydney did,” Killian stated as he entered the office. His dramatic arrival drew the attention of everyone in the room.

“This is none of your affair, Mr. Jones,” Regina addressed coolly.

“Yeah, Jones,” Emma replied tersely. “I’ve got this. I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“Of that I have no doubt, Swan,” he acknowledged before proceeding. “I’m actually here to see Sydney. The paper was kind enough to inform me that he was here meeting with the Mayor.”

“M-me?” Sydney stuttered. “Why were you looking for me?”

“Why, to fire you of course.” Emma could see the self-satisfied smile on Killian’s face at that pronouncement.

“What?!” Sydney yelped.

“You don’t have the authority-”

“I think you’ll find that I do, “ Killian interjected, cutting off Regina’s protest. “You’ll see from this document that I own the controlling interest in The Storybrooke Daily Mirror.”

Killian handed the paperwork to Emma and continued as she and Regina looked it over. Well, I’ll be damned, Emma thought.

“I’ve always been content to leave things in the seemingly capable hands of my editor. I see now that has been a mistake.” Killian turned to Emma and she was struck by the hard, yet sincere look he gave her as he said, “My sincerest apologies, Sheriff Swan. Mr. Glass’ last act as editor will be to issue an apology on the front page of tomorrow’s paper. He will then cooperate fully with any investigation you wish to pursue in the matter of your sealed records.”

“I will?” Sydney asked in an astonished tone.

“Of course not,” Regina scoffed.

“Aye,” Killian countered, shooting the man a dark look that had Sydney recoiling. “You will. And you’d best get to it, as I’ll be expecting a copy to look over in the morning before it goes to print.”

Sydney cast a furtive glance between Killian and Regina, probably trying to decide who he feared more in that moment.

Jones won.

Tail tucked firmly between his legs, Sydney scurried out the door and down the hall.

“Miss Swan, I need a moment with Mr. Jones,” Regina insisted, and the thick tension rolling off both her and Jones was enough to make Emma want a few minutes to herself as well.

Emma stepped into the hall, but didn’t move too far from the door after she closed it behind her. Angry, yet hushed words she couldn’t quite make out seeped through the door, and Emma couldn’t help but lean in a little closer. As she did she heard something quite unexpected.

“This is not over, Hook.”

“Oh, I think it is. Good day, Your Majesty.”

Hook? Your Majesty? Has everyone in this town lost their minds? Why would Killian and Regina use the personas Henry believes them to be? Was it some petty, name calling thing they’d adopted in light of Henry’s beliefs? Wrapped up in her thoughts, Emma didn’t notice Regina’s office door opening, until Killian was veritably on top of her.

“Apologies, Swan,” Killian offered, clearly startled to find her standing so close to the door.

“No, no. My fault,” Emma replied. “I just, uh… wanted to say thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”

“Actually, I did,” Killian countered. “Ever since you came into town, you’ve opened my eyes to things. Things I cannot let stand. Regina’s reign has lasted for far too long.”

“You don’t have to take up a crusade against Regina on my account,” Emma stated, a bit of defensiveness making its way into her tone.

“I assure you, I’m not,” Killian replied, earning him a knowing look from her that conveyed the reminder of her superpower to him. “That is to say, not entirely,” he amended. “I have a long history with Regina, with my own issues and battles to resolve.”

Emma could see the truth of his words even without her special little gift. He wasn’t trying to fight her battles for her, he wanted to fight a common foe alongside her, and that realization settled the remaining uncertainties she’d held towards him.

“We never got to talk about the other night,” she said, and then went on to clarify when she saw the perplexed look on his face. “At the docks. After my fight with Graham. I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that.”

“It’s alright, Swan,” he waved off. “No need to explain. I intruded. There’s no need to discuss it further.”

“Well, there is one thing I’d like to discuss,” she replied, worrying her lip for a moment.

“What’s that, Swan?”

“Is that offer of the house still on the table?”

Killian quirked his lips as he reached back to scratch behind his ear. He took a slow step forward to bring himself closer to her. “There are a great many things I’d like to offer you on a table, Swan,” he purred salaciously, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he arched his brows. His audacious flirtation earned him an amused eye roll. “Aye,” he continued on with a bit more seriousness. “Why don’t we meet at Granny’s for breakfast in the morning and we can discuss it.”

“Sounds like a date,” Emma responded flippantly.

“No, Swan,” he answered earnestly, “when I ask you for a date, you’ll know it.”

Realizing what she’d said, a blush made its way up Emma’s neck. She let out a scoffing breath hoping to distract him from her flustered reaction. His brows lifted in response and she could feel the flush deepen at her cheeks.

“See you in the morning, Swan,” he said, winking at her before turning and heading down the hall.

As she watched him go, Emma contemplated how much she’d rather be following him out into the night, rather than heading back in for round two with Regina. Some other time, she told herself.

Chapter 14

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