#csvalentines

[adriata-archive]

chasing down my lane

for cs valentine’s day

prompt: A Flower Shop AU where Character A is a florist and Character B keeps buying flowers just to see them more often, but now they have an apartment full of flowers and still no date

The first time is an accident. Emma is running late to Belle’s birthday dinner and she hasn’t had time to sleep this week, let alone go shopping for an appropriate present, but then she spots a cute little flower shop on the same street as her office and figures it wouldn’t hurt to pop in. She’ll get Belle a nice bouquet of flowers and claim her actual gift is still in transit, and make a purchase on Amazon Prime as soon as she gets home. She notices that the cashier is attractive, sure - she’d have to be blind not to - but she’s in too much of a hurry to pay too much attention to him, just stumbles through her thanks and tries not to stare for too long.

The second time is sort of on purpose. Her mother is coming to visit, and is known for her fondness of freshly-cut flowers, and for a reason unbeknownst to her, Emma can’t seem to get a particular florist out of her mind. She tells David she knows the perfect place and refuses his offer to go with her, saying she’ll be quick, and then she spends almost two hours “browsing” and talking to the employee - Killian, she learns, after hour one flies by - about the meanings of different flowers and colors and what got him into botany. He tells her that he’s seen enough sorrow in his lifetime that all he wants to do is create something beautiful, and Emma finds her heart breaking for this stranger who patiently answers every one of her absurd questions about the differences between tiger lilies and calla lilies, but then he makes a quip comparing her to the sun that shines in the sky and she resorts to calling him out on his cheesiness. They fall back into easy banter and Emma laughs until there are tears in her eyes, and it’s with great reluctance that she finally leaves (ten minutes after the shop is supposed to close).

The third time is definitely on purpose. She doesn’t even want flowers - her mother had loved the bouquet that Killian had put together, but she had left several days ago, and it’s not like Emma has anyone else to give them to. To be honest, she doesn’t even like flowers; they make her eyes water and her nose itch.

Of course, this doesn’t stop her from taking allergy medicine right before she leaves work and walking into Killian’s store (because that’s what it is to her, now - Killian’s store).

Emma’s stride is purposeful even as she runs through ten different reasons for her to need flowers in her head - someone is sick, she’s visiting a grave, it’s teacher appreciation week at Mary Margaret’s school - but she’s pretty sure that Killian will see right through her. Still, that doesn’t stop her from marching up to the counter and giving the bell a delicate ring to call him out from the back.

So when a woman she’s never seen before walks out instead, Emma has to do a double take.

“Hi, how can I help you?”

The woman - Tink - is pleasant enough, a friendly smile etched on her face as she looks at Emma expectantly, but all Emma can wonder is where’s Killian?

“Sorry, uh, is Killian not working today?” She tries not to look too eager, but she’s started to look forward to Wednesday afternoons, when she’d thought Killian was scheduled to work, so she dismisses her disappointment as that of her own deductive reasoning.

“Oh, something came up, so I’m covering for him. I promise I’m just as good at floral arrangements, if not better,” Tink says with a conspiratorial wink. Emma manages a weak smile in return, and she leaves with a bouquet of sunflowers that do nothing to brighten her mood.

The fourth time, she’s on a mission, and it doesn’t even occur to her that it’s February fourteenth when she goes looking for her florist.

(Just like how it doesn’t occur to her that she’s started to refer to Killian as her florist.)

Emma is baffled by the sheer amount of people crowded in the shop, men and women alike, clamoring for the attention of the next available employee as they try to get a last minute bouquet. She doesn’t stop to wonder why so many people need flowers today of all days, and heads straight for the bright yellow arrangements - Killian’s favorite.

She lingers there for a while, her hand trailing over the soft petals as she pretends to browse. Her gaze keeps shifting back to one bouquet in particular, and she begins to wonder when Killian had started using so many buttercups in his creations.

Someone clears their throat behind her, and Emma whips around, her mouth shifting into a sheepish grin as she attempts to hide what had been the object of her rapt attention just seconds earlier.

“Need any assistance?” Killian asks, a cheeky grin of his own in place as he takes in Emma’s guilty expression.

“Just looking,” Emma says hurriedly. “Um - you guys are really busy today. I don’t want to trouble you if someone else needs help.”

Killian’s eyebrows raise and Emma swears he’s trying not to laugh at her.

“Do you actually not know why we’re swamped today?”

From Killian’s tone, she can tell that the answer is supposed to be obvious, but all Emma does is blink at him in bemusement.

“Swan, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh. Oh.”

Killian’s definitely trying not to laugh at her - and failing, spectacularly.

“So I take it you’re not in the market for flowers of the romantic variety?” Killian teases, studiously ignoring the nearby customers who are rather obviously trying to catch his attention. “No date?”

Emma snorts. “Valentine’s Day is overrated.”

There’s no hiding his laughter now. “Then why are you here, today of all days?”

“You’re just full of questions today, aren’t you?” Emma shoots back, unable to mask her own smile. Killian reaches forward suddenly, her breath catching until she realizes that he is aiming for something behind her.

Her relief quickly turns into embarrassment as he studies the bouquet she had been standing in front of, her cheeks flushing of their own accord at Killian’s considerate evaluation of the flowers in his hand. His fingers brush against the buttercups, a mirror image of Emma’s own, and he turns his thoughtful gaze from the flowers to her.

“You know I used to not be scheduled to work on Wednedays?” Killian asks conversationally, heading for the counter and leaving Emma to decide whether or not to follow (she does). “The day you first came in, I was actually covering for Tink. Family emergency, you see. I understood, of course, but I was still a tad miffed about having to work on my day off, until a blonde hurricane burst into the shop and near swept me off my feet.”

Emma clears her throat to try and take some of the attention away from how red she must be by now, but from Killian’s knowing smirk, it doesn’t work. “A blonde hurricane, huh?”

“I thought it was an apt description,” Killian says, going behind the counter and ringing up the bouquet in his hand. Emma follows closely, cringing and smiling apologetically at everyone Killian (and her, by extension) is blatantly cutting in front of. “Anyway, the following week I asked Tink if she wouldn’t mind switching shifts again, in the hopes that you’d come back.”

Emma’s eyes widen at his open admission, and she’s certain she must be resembling a tomato.

“Interesting that you picked out the arrangement I made with you in mind, isn’t it?” Killian continues, either completely oblivious or choosing to ignore the fact that Emma is unequivocally, indescribably flustered. “I’d say it’s almost like fate.”

“Something like that, sure,” Emma says faintly.

Killian steps out from behind the counter and bows, the sight of which is so ridiculous that she has to laugh, and presents the flowers to her with a flourish. She takes them, hiding her goofy grin behind the petals, but she knows Killian can see right through her.

“Swan, would you do me the honor of going on a date with me, outside of this shop?”

Emma laughs and stands on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “I thought you’d never ask.”

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

CS Valentine’s Day One Shots: Day Eight

TWO IN ONE DAY, HEYO!

Prompt: First “I Love You”

AO3

The first time Killian says he loves her, it’s in his sleep. She’s having trouble keeping her eyes shut, her mind wandering all over the place, when suddenly he tightens his grip on her waist and mumbles into her hair.

“I love you.”

They’ve been dating for half a year, spending more time sleeping together than apart. Their friends have started joking about wedding bells and futures Emma isn’t ready to think about yet, but she always laughs along with everyone else, Killian squeezing her hand under the table when he senses her discomfort.

The truth is, she’s never been loved before.

It’s the oldest story in the book: unloved orphan never finds a home, lives out her young adult life completely independent, and unwilling to open her heart to anyone.

Killian could have stormed through her walls, forcing them down, but instead he’d pushed at them gently, patiently, until he’d found a crack through which he’d fit. The night when everyone else had gone home early and it had just been the two of them, he’d told her about growing up alone – a mother and brother dead, a father distant and then gone for good. She’d listened, eyes widening as she felt their connection forming and strengthening as he spoke.

She’d told him of her own past, and he’d cocked his head, as though seeing her for the very first time.

Afterwards, they were nearly inseparable.

It wasn’t like Emma had never been with anyone before. There had been Neal, the thief who’d tried to frame her but had screwed up his own plan, landing himself in prison. Then Graham, who’d liked her just fine but had been in love with someone else. She’d had flings and one night stands and everything else that fell just outside of the realm of an actual healthy relationship. But Killian was different.

He cooked her dinner and she washed the dishes. He let her pick the movies and the music, unless she was feeling particularly indecisive, and even then, he always chose something he knew she’d like. He held her when she was sad and cold and angry and also when she was happy and proud and excited. He laughed at her horrible jokes and shared her anger at her one co-worker who just couldn’t seem to pull their weight.

Maybe she does love him, actually. She thinks to herself, knowing that any shot she had at sleep is definitely gone now that he’s said those three words. She wonders if he’s thought it while conscious, but hasn’t voiced it for fear of scaring her off. He’s right to be afraid, as she’s definitely tried to push him away before when things became too much.

The first time she realized they’d spent a solid week sharing a bed at night, she hadn’t answered his calls for three days, until he showed up at her apartment with flowers and some version of The Princess Bride with extra scenes she hadn’t seen before, as though everything was normal. She hadn’t been able to shut him out when he barged in like that, and within an hour, she was in his arms on the couch, questioning why she’d wasted three days of her life avoiding someone who cared for her like this.

She’s still awake, wondering if she should tell him she heard him, or maybe just say the words even though she’s not sure, when light trickles in through her window. She’s glad she’s off today, that it’s a Saturday so she can be lazy and stay in bed for as long as she wants. He stirs beside her as she starts to finally drift off. She feigns sleep when he sits up, forcing her breathing to be even and slow.

“I love you,” he says again, but this time he’s awake and telling her when he thinks she can’t hear him.

He does mean it then, and is just trying desperately to let her know without sending her running for the hills. He kisses her forehead, and her eyes flutter. She pretends to wake up and he grins down at her.

They agree on breakfast in bed, and he goes to make pancakes and eggs to bring back for them to share.

She wonders if they should move in together. Maybe that conversation would be easier. It’s more logical than the emotions involved in the three words he’s whispered to her twice now. They spend nearly every night together anyway, so shouldn’t they save on time and rent and bills by just living under one roof?

Emma knows even as she thinks it that it won’t happen. She’ll never bring up cohabitating just like she’s not sure if she’ll ever tell him she loves him. She wonders how long he’ll stick around before he gets tired of constantly climbing the new walls that pop up around her. He’ll leave her, surely, when he realizes just how closed off she really is.

It’s just as well, since that would save her the trouble of trying to voice the fact that she's realized that she does love him. Undoubtedly and completely.

Shit.

He comes back into the room, a smile on his face and a breakfast tray he’d purchased a week ago just for occasions like this, when they don’t want to leave bed for any longer than they need to. There’s a rose in a vase on top and when he sets the tray in her lap, she sees the pancakes are shaped like hearts. She looks up at him, confused.

“It’s, um… Happy Valentine’s Day, Swan.” He scratches behind his ear, clearly thrown off by the fact that she hadn’t known what day it was. Were holidays like this important to him?

Emma is torn between trying to make holidays like this important to her because she loves him, and figuring that they can’t be all that great for each other if he believes in corny Hallmark holidays. She’s unsure of what to say when he speaks again.

“I know it’s a stupid holiday, and I didn’t get you a gift or anything, but I thought at least our first Valentine’s Day together should at least have heart-shaped pancakes. Or something.”

“So it’s… Valentine’s Day isn’t, like, important to you?” She finally finds her voice as he sits beside her, arranging his pillows – his pillows? – so he can lean against them. He laughs, reaching for a forkful of egg.

“No, Swan,” he says after he swallows. “It’s a false holiday made up to sell more candy and flowers.”

She leans over to kiss him then, nearly toppling the breakfast tray as she does so. He reaches out one hand to steady it while the other hand buries itself in her hair.

“I love you,” she says. She’s amazed by how simple it is to say once she’s resigned the fact that it’s the truth. He’s done so much before to get her to open up and let him in, that she thinks maybe for once she should do it on her own. “I love you,” she says again with a laugh, and he’s grinning at her, seemingly as shocked as she is by the admission.

“You do?” he asks, her chin in his hand.

She nods once, realizing that he hasn’t said it back yet. He said it first, really, but it didn’t count since he didn’t know she could hear.

“Well I suppose it’s a good thing I love you back then, isn’t it?” He’s kissing her again, and the tray in her lap nearly crashes to the ground before they both stop and stare at it. She gently takes it and places it on the ground. “I made you pancakes…” he whines halfheartedly.

“To hell with the pancakes,” she says against his mouth, and their breakfast grows very, very cold by the time they’re ready to eat.

[emmandhook]

OH HEY OH HEY FRIENDLY REMINDING THAT: TOMORROW IS VALENTINE’S DAY AND YOU ALL HAVE TO POST YOUR GIFTS FOR YOUR CSSV. If you can’t by tomorrow, please, let your valentine know that you’ll delay a bit more!  (Or you can post your gift today, whenever you want.) SPREAD THE WORD TO REMIND THIS TO EVERYONE, THANK YOU.

P.S: The gifts can be tagged as #captain swan.

[hopeandbeans]

 So when I win your h e a r t, Emma - and I will win it - it won't be because of any trickery.           It will be because you want me.

For the lovely @tlynnwords, happy Valentine's Day!! ♥

[ouatxxxxx]

What’s Missing?

Alright @favoritefandoms, I’m your CSSV! I’m so sorry I’m posting this late! I really liked talking to you and getting to know you! It was great to make a new friend! I hope it’s worth the wait!

You mentioned you like AU’s so here’s a Coffee Shop AU. You also said you like friends/enemies to lovers, so I did a frenemies to lovers story! I hope you like it and I hope you had a great Valentine’s Day! xx :D 

Every Saturday morning for the last year, Emma comes to the quaint coffee shop a few blocks away from her apartment building. Her days as a deputy keep her busy, but Saturday mornings are reserved for her chance to wind down and take a break. Enjoy her one hour of solitude away from work.

That is until the black-haired, blue-eyed nuisance started to show up.

Every time.

She still doesn’t know his name, hasn’t even spoken to him. The only form of acknowledgment is a nod and small smile when he walks through the door and sits at the table across from hers. (And the hint of mischief in his smile when it meets hers at the little game they’re playing).

All she knows is he came sweeping in one day, with his cocky nature and flirty attitude (he hasn’t flirted with her, but she’s seen the way he acts with the other women fawning over him), disturbing her peace. He deliberately chooses to come at the same time and day she’s there. She has thought about coming in at a different day to avoid him all together, but Emma Swan is not one step down, she was here first. This was her routine.

Plus, she found their little game too fun to stop.

She doesn’t even know how, but somehow he managed to learn what she orders.

And that’s when it begins.

The first time he walked in, she paid him no mind. Didn’t even look at him. The second time, their eyes met when he sat at the table across from hers, but then she looked back down at the book she was reading.

The third time, she couldn’t help it. Her eyes wandered up from her phone to sneak a glance at him. Then another. And another. She’d noticed how attractive he was the first moment he’d swaggered in, but this was the first time she allowed herself to really look at him.

Damn.

That disheveled black hair and those tight black pants. She could tell he had a strong, lean body by the way his shirt stretched between his shoulders.

Suddenly, Emma is aware she isn’t just glancing  anymore when he looks up at her with those piercing blue eyes rimmed with eyeliner (that only makes him look hotter), a quirked eyebrow, and smug smirk on his face.

She looks down immediately and feels herself blush. Quickly, she grabs her things and makes a dash toward the exit.

The fourth time, Emma is making her way to her usual table when she’s confused to find a cup already waiting for her. She looks up to find Mr. Smug Face had arrived before her, looking at her with an expectant look and a smile that makes her feel wary. She sits down and takes the cup, uncovering the lid. It’s hot cocoa alright, the drink she orders every time, but it’s missing something.

The whipped cream and cinnamon.

How he knows her order is a mystery, but he knows about the whipped cream because he’d made a show of pointing out she had some on the side of her mouth last time before he’d caught her sneaking glances at him. (She doesn’t know he only caught it because he was doing the same).

Her face must have shown all sorts of offended for not having the perfect addition to her drink because she can hear snickering. Looking up, she finds that he’s trying (and failing) to hold back his laughter.

Emma narrows her eyes at him. Two can play at this game. Emma was never one to back down from a challenge.

And that’s how this back and forth started between them.

After his little stunt with her hot chocolate, the next time Emma makes sure to get there before him. She goes to the barista she always orders from and asks her if she remembers his order. She gives her a knowing smile, she doesn’t know why, and tells her he usually orders a coffee with cream and sugar.

Perfect.

Emma orders a black coffee and after checking to see he was nowhere in sight, she goes to place it in his spot. Smiling triumphantly, Emma sits back and waits for him to show up.

He walks in a few minutes later and she can’t help but admire his wind swept hair, the urge to brush it away from his eyes too strong.

As he takes a seat he spots her, then looks down at the cup in front of him. He raises an eyebrow in question, but she simply shrugs nonchalantly while smiling innocently. She can tell he doesn’t believe her act, picking up his drink anyway and tentatively takes a sip.

His face scrunches up in distaste immediately from the bitter taste and she can’t help the quiet giggles she isn’t even trying to hide.

And this continues on for the next few weeks. There’s always something missing from her drink, and she responds in kind. Once he really took her by surprise and managed to hide in the kitchen until she came. She was a bit disappointed to find her table empty, but waved the feeling away. He wasn’t important to her. She should be happy, now her Saturdays could go back to being peaceful.

She decided to order something other than her hot cocoa that day. She asked for a Frappuccino with caramel. The kind barista who always serves her hands her the drink and for some odd reason she looks like she’s trying to hold back a laugh. Unfazed, Emma takes a sip and notices that something is missing. Her caramel. She hears a chuckle and turns around to find him standing behind his chair. All she can do is gape at him. How could he have known her order? And it was different this time!

Both of them know what to expect when they come into the shop, but both continue to show up.

Every time. 

It’s another Saturday morning and Emma walks with a light in her step, knowing she’s going to see her… friend… enemy… frenemy? She doesn’t even know what he is and suddenly she stops as she realizes something. She no longer sees him as the annoyance he once was. She now looks forward to their “meetings.” She doesn’t know what to think about it. He’s handsome, she can’t deny it. It’s the first thing she noticed about him. But she doesn’t know him. Should she ask him out? Simply talk to him and get to know him? Change the whole dynamic of how things are between them?

Emma bites her lip, contemplating her next move. She runs when she’s scared, it’s what she’s always done. It’s what she’s had to learn to do after growing up with no one to love her and the one time she thought someone did, he sent her to prison for his crimes.

It’s what’s protected her. But it’s also what’s kept out love and pushed any potential friendships away. This is the first real “friend” she’s made and although she’s scared to break whatever it is they have going on here…

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, making a decision. For once in her life she’s going to be brave and not let her fear rule her. She’s not going to ask him out, she doesn’t want to seem too forward or eager. But she does want to talk to him, to have an actual conversation in hopes of becoming friends at the very least.

She continues walking, making her way toward the shop in anticipation. It’s packed with more people than usual. As Emma makes her way to her table she notices that although it’s empty, no one is sitting there because there are no chairs. She furrows her brows in confusion and looks around to find there are no other available spots, when a cough catches her attention. She meets the amused stare of her “friend.”

Of course, the only other available chair is at his table. This time instead of a missing ingredient, it’s a missing chair. She rolls her eyes, but takes a seat.

Well this is convenient, she thinks since she wanted to sit down with him anyway and he’s just given her the perfect opportunity.

He perks up once she’s seated since he probably thought she would decline his invitation. She smiles at him shyly and looks down, finding a hot cocoa waiting for her. When she looks at him, he just nods encouragingly and she tastes it, finding that it’s perfect and just the way she likes it. After giving him a questioning look, she takes another sip enjoying her drink.

He clears his throat, “I couldn’t give you a drink you don’t like on our tenth date. It’s quite the milestone.”

Emma chokes on her hot cocoa for a moment. Once she can breathe she asks, “Tenth date? Did I miss the first nine?”

“Aye, your hot cocoa with no whipped cream and cinnamon’s the first, my greatly distasteful black coffee’s the second, and well I’m sure you remember the rest, lass,” he jokes.

His accent. It makes her want to swoon. Hold yourself together, Emma.

All humor disappears when he continues, “In all seriousness, love, I was hoping to ask you out. To dinner, or something,” he mumbles shyly.  

It’s so different to see the man that oozed confidence, suddenly become this shy person whose cheeks have reddened. He’s rubbing his finger behind his ear, a nervous tick she’s sure.

“Oh,” is all she says.

Honestly he caught her off guard. She came in here, finally brave enough to speak to him, hoping he’d at least be her friend. He must think she’s not interested by the way his face falls so she quickly continues.

“It’s just you surprised me. I finally found the confidence to talk to you today, but you beat me to it,” she says with a reassuring smile.

Her words and smile have the desired effect. His face quickly changes from disappointed to relieved and a bright smile that reaches his eyes spreads across his face and she can’t help it when her smile widens just the same.

“Killian Jones, at your service,” he says as he reaches his hand out.

“Emma. Emma Swan,” she replies, placing her hand in his. He surprises her when he brings it closer, placing a kiss on the back of her hand, only giving her a cheeky wink when she shakes her head, but her smile never wavers.

It turns out Killian’s brother, Liam, owns the coffee shop which is how he knew her orders. The friendly barista is his sister-in-law, Elsa, who knew of Killian’s interest in her and the little game he started in the hopes of getting her attention, which explains those looks she’d give her.

She learns he works at the docks, he is good with ships, and moved to Boston a few months ago to be closer to his brother and sister-in-law as they are the only family he has. His mother died in childbirth and his father abandoned them when he was a child.

They sat talking for hours, getting to know one another. When Emma finally had to go home, reluctantly they said goodbye to each other and Killian told her he’d text her so they can set up a time for their first actual date.

She didn’t have to wait long since he texted her only ten minutes after she left and she laughed at how adorable he is.

Their first date is wonderful, both expected and unexpected. When they talked in the coffee shop, he seemed to be a gentleman and that’s how he acted on their date. When they played their game however, he was a different person. He was a mix of both on their date and she was happy to see that, see all of him. She also saw how easily she could fall for this man. And for once, the thought of falling in love didn’t scare her.

Many more dates follow and soon they find themselves celebrating their two year anniversary. Emma’s come a long way in the past two years. Not only did she find a man she loves and who loves her in return, she also found a family and friends.

Liam and Elsa were very welcoming, she and Elsa hitting it off straight away. When she didn’t have plans with Killian, she was with Elsa.

Since it’s their anniversary, Killian has a special surprise to mark the occasion. 

He proposes that night. With an empty box.

“Seriously?”

He gives her a mischievous grin, then pulls out the ring from his pocket and places it on her finger.

She sighs exasperatedly, but he just kisses her while pulling her close. She can’t help but wrap her arms around his neck, eventually smiling into the kiss. 

If you asked Emma what’s missing from her life, she’d say nothing at all.

She has everything and so much more. 

[piracytheorist]

Closer than Expected

Hi @hookedonapirate! I’m your CS Secret Valentine :) It was really nice talking to you and getting to know you over these days! I hope you enjoy your gift - Emma as a fashion designer and Killian as a model, and a small twist ;) Beta by @wingedlioness.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

AO3 | FFnet

For someone used to not depending on small things to make her mornings, Emma sure found it hard rising from bed before hearing her neighbor downstairs sing his early tunes. He never spent a morning without welcoming the day with a song as if he was the happiest person in the world.

Of course, the only reason she even heard him was due to a few loose planks on her floor and her neighbor’s very thin ceiling. Her landlord had warned her about it, saying that they were going to fix it soon. But in her two months living there, no notice came, and honestly, she couldn’t complain. It’s not that she felt like she was creeping on him either. She couldn’t understand the lyrics, only the melody making it through her floor, and nothing else. No discussions, no other voices, just melodies of various music styles brightening her mood.

Today was different, as her neighbor - she still hadn’t learnt his name - sounded like he had a sore throat. He still sang, but coughed between phrases and his voice sounded rough. She kept listening until the sound of his door closing let her know he was gone, and she finally stood up.

Emma may have been a semi-famous fashion designer, but her style never stopped being casual. She enjoyed how it felt like it protected her from the world without making her look fake, though that wasn’t a detail she was used to sharing in her interviews.

So she put on her jeans, boots, shirt and leather jacket and took the subway to Snow White’s Fashion House. Cheesy name, she admitted, but the conditions were great, her pay good, and her boss extremely friendly to everyone, even Emma herself. And most of the models were nice too.

Well, most of them.

As soon as Emma entered the building, the first person she saw was Killian Jones, one of the company’s well-paid and most trusted models, as well as the only one-handed model working for a fashion house in the whole city. Killian working there seemed to have a very positive effect on the company and he looked quite proud of it.

Oh great, he caught her staring at him again. She expected another sassy remark from him, his way of flirting, but this time he only smiled suggestively at her, his one eyebrow rising before turning back to continue his conversation with Ruby, the company’s receptionist who could very well be working as a model if she only asked.

Entering her atelier, Emma was greeted by an Elsa who was grinning ear to ear. “Good morning, Elsa,” she said.

“Good morning, sunshine. Today’s your lucky day,” Elsa said and raised her eyebrows.

“What?” Emma took her jacket off slowly and eyed her co-worker cautiously. She’s only shared very few with Elsa for her to know what a lucky day for Emma Swan could be.

“Killian Jones will be coming today for a new leather costume. And I will be over at David because he asked for my help with some new dresses, which means you will be here alone taking his measurements,” she said and managed to smile even wider.

Taking his measurements. Which would mean… seeing Killian Jones wearing only his underwear, her fingers touching his bare skin, his breath on her as she worked around his body…

“Have fun,” Elsa said and walked through the door before Emma could react.

“Wait!” she shouted and ran towards her. She leaned outside and watched her go with her grin still on. “Elsa! Come back! Who will I scream at until he comes?” she almost hissed at her, which caused Elsa to laugh, her back still to Emma.

“Shit,” Emma whispered and closed her door. It’s not that she hasn’t been around attractive males in her line of work… but Killian, well, she had thought of him so many times in the past two months she’d stopped using his last name in her thoughts and got used to the idea that his looks had really swept her off her feet.

His behavior, however, being so cocky and arrogant all the time, was the last she was prepared for. Said behavior was the reason he hadn’t yet worked with Emma. Everyone talked about how hard he was to work with, and how Emma couldn’t possibly handle it. How little they knew.

On her desk lay a paper with all she needed to know for his new costume - which apparently was described as “black and extra skinny”, hence the need for new measurements. Before she even had a moment to collect herself, Killian opened her door without knocking and walked in, chin held high.

“Good morning, love,” he said. Funnily enough, his voice sounded harsh.

“I assume your voice was lost along with your manners,” she said without looking up at him. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that his stance hadn’t changed.

“Aye, screaming at a rock concert late at night will do that to you,” he said without missing a beat.

“Losing your manners or your voice?” she said, finally glaring up at him.

“Apologies,” he said and took a bow.

A bow. Was he serious?

She looked at him warily for a few seconds, measuring tape in hand, wondering what to tell him to get started. Finally she said, “Undress.” It was the coolest verb she could find without making the command sound sexual.

His eyebrow went up anyway, for the second time in a few minutes. “As you wish.”

Come on, Emma, focus.

Killian finished undressing, and Emma had to put on all her professionalism to stop herself from doing anything out of line. He was just a handsome model, she’d seen plenty of them before. Few of them however were allowed to keep their chest hair. As Killian rarely posed half-naked, in favor of deep V-necks or half-open shirts, his chest hair was perfectly intact and just perfect.

She cursed herself for wearing tight jeans, as she felt her knees starting to tremble a little. Luckily, Killian was looking high up, so she approached him and put the measuring tape loosely around his neck. They were both used to it - Killian having other people touch him non-sexually and Emma touching models non-sexually. But she would lie if she said she didn’t feel his heartbeat raise for one single moment when her fingers touched his chest as she folded the tape between his collarbones. She felt goosebumps on her own as his breath caressed the skin of her arms.

She took off the tape and turned around to write the numbers on a paper, and she could swear she saw him raise his hand and scratch behind his ear. As soon as she turned back, he was smiling again, though this time it looked less suggestive.

Next came his chest. Great. Trained as he was, he raised his arms on his own so that she could wrap the tape around his torso. She definitely didn’t need to lean into him so much in order to do that, but as awkward as it was, she didn’t comment on it and went on.

“Hold it for a sec,” she told him after measuring and his hand flew to his chest, brushing her right one as she took it off the tape to write the next measurement. That definitely needn’t have happened, but he wasn’t complaining. She dared a look at him, and was surprised to not see him too amused by that. Well, he seemed fine, but the smirk he’d greeted her with seemed too long ago now.

After she measured his waist, he took care to not touch her hand, so that wasn’t an issue, but then came the time to measure his hips.

This time, she actually let herself wonder what could happen if she touched him there.

Oh crap, Emma, come on.

She felt relief to see that all went smoothly as she carefully wrapped the tape around his hip. The fact that she did feel relief actually surprised her.

She measured his legs, which was not weird at all with her hand actually going very close to his crotch, and then finally came the time for the arms. She would lie if she said she was never curious, so she threw a glance at the stump on his left wrist. She knew that she wouldn’t need to - and maybe she shouldn’t - touch it at all to measure the arm, but she felt the desire to touch it, not out of curiosity, but for the same reason her heartbeat had raised since she started working on him. She was glad she was standing behind him.

“Have you tried ice-cream from the parlor across the street?” he asked suddenly.

She looked up at him, focusing on his very soft looking hair. “Not yet. I’ll only indulge if I’m certain their rocky road is decent enough.”

“Hm, haven’t tried that one yet. Their grapefruit one is worth it.”

“Who even eats grapefruit-flavored ice-cream?”

He tsked. “It’s got lots of vitamins, Swan.”

“It’s full of sugar. Aren’t you supposed to, not eat that kind of stuff or something?”

“Don’t pressure a model on their diet, please,” he said with mock embarrassment.

“I never do and you know that.”

“I do, love.” His smile now seemed terribly nice and she couldn’t tell if he was faking it or not. But their casual discussion - quite possibly the first one they had since they met - distracted her from the nervousness she felt after touching him all over. She had finished measuring him yet she still stood next to him having small talk. While he was naked save for one piece of clothing.

She cleared her throat and turned her back at him, pretending to work on his measurements in order to give him the time to dress again. This would only be the first part, as later she would need to actually check the fabric while he would be wearing it.

It wouldn’t be a very lucky day if she got fired for unprofessionalism.

Luckily for her, Killian’s schedule changed before she’d finished the costume and he had to leave, so Emma went on with her other projects until she finished for the day.

Overworked as always, Emma entered her apartment and collapsed on the couch. She rubbed her eyes with her hands and waited until the relaxing tune of her neighbor’s rough singing was heard.

She suddenly opened her eyes in shock. Killian’s voice was also rough this morning, but that didn’t stop him from babbling all day. She’d never seen her neighbor and didn’t know his name, plus there were more than a few mailboxes without name tags on them in the entrance of her apartment building. But she had been living there for two months, wouldn’t she have seen Killian around if he really was her neighbor? Plus, she couldn’t believe an arrogant guy like Killian Jones would be singing silly happy songs like Mr. Sandman at seven in the morning.

Her neighbor coughed enough times to make Emma worry a little. If his apartment was as simple as hers, the chances of him having a roommate were thin, so he probably was living on his own. Emma turned her head and looked at the unopened Orange & Ginger Tea package that was lying on her kitchen counter. She heard another series of coughs.

To hell with it, what did she have to lose?

She poured hot water in a thermos, took two porcelain mugs and two tea bags, placed them all on a serving tray and walked downstairs to his apartment door. She stood there for almost a solid minute, trying to find an excuse why she was there as she listened to him sing a variation of House of the Rising Sun. She sighed and finally rang the bell. What was she even going to do if it really was Killian?

“Coming!” she heard from inside. Emma froze. She was almost sure that was how Killian sounded like that morning but still, what were the chances-

Before she could finish her thought, the door opened to reveal Killian Jones, fully dressed in black silk pyjamas and hair wet. His mouth opened in surprise.

“Swan? What are you doing here?” His eyes scanned her up and down and focused on her fluffy slippers for a few seconds.

“I… live upstairs,” she said, her voice low. “I thought I could introduce myself to the neighbors.” She felt stupid for not also bringing the cookies she hadn’t opened since buying them last week.

“At nine in the evening? With tea?” He didn’t look like he was judging her, just a lot curious. Finally, he shook his head and stepped aside, letting her in his apartment.

“I… heard you cough,” she admitted without looking at him and bit her lip.

“What?”

She looked around at his apartment. It looked the same size as hers, though even cleaner than hers.

“Yeah,” she finally turned, her hands gripping the tray so hard her knuckles were starting to get white. “Your ceiling is very thin and some planks on my floor are loose so some noises slip through”. She bit her lip again when she saw him almost blanch. “Don’t worry,” she rushed to say, “I can’t actually hear what you’re saying. I can hear murmurs and… singing, and only today, your coughing.”

As if on cue, he started coughing again. Some of the color seemed to return on his face.

“So I thought I could bring you some tea,” she said and raised the tray for emphasis.

“Uh…” he said and dropped his head a little, “thank you for your consideration.” He actually blushed. Killian fucking Jones, famous model and beloved by thousands of fans, was actually blushing and smiling shyly. He scratched behind his ear, as she had sort-of seen him do that morning.

“I’m sorry, is it a bad time?” she said.

“No, no, I won’t be going to bed for an hour. Uh, you can… sit down.”

Emma couldn’t believe that he actually sounded nervous. She sat on the couch, opened the thermos and poured hot water into the cups, letting the tea bags soak it in. Killian sat on the armchair next to her and watched her silently. Emma stifled a yawn.

“So, you can hear me sing, uh?” he asked, the bravado in his voice returned.

“Yeah. Some of my favorites are those that sound like sea shanties…” she looked up at him. “They are sea shanties, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are. But you can’t hear the lyrics, you said?” He was leaning back on his chair and he raised his eyebrow, hand and wrist resting on his lap.

“No. Why?”

“Oh, nothing,” he replied with a shrug. “I gather you’ve learned this one,” and he started humming a melody.

“Yeah, you’ve sung this one many times. What do the lyrics say?”

He smirked. “You don’t wanna know.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Well, sailors weren’t known for being coy.”

“And you think that I haven’t heard lewd songs before?”

He reached over and took one mug. “Then, maybe I’ll sing it to you when I’m trying on the leather costume.”

Emma regretted saying anything. He was going to make it way harder for her.

“Hm, that’s very good,” he said after tasting the tea.

“One of my favourite flavors,” she replied. “Not one many brands have.”

“Thank you again,” he said and cleared his throat. “It was the last thing I expected tonight.”

“The tea or finding out we’re neighbors?”

He blushed again, though little. He huffed a laugh. “Both, I guess. How come we never met before?”

“You always leave for work and come back earlier than I do, and I’ve only been here for two months.” She shrugged. “Maybe it was about time we did,” she said carefully. For a few seconds, he was looking at her, as if trying to read her, and she relaxed when he finally smiled softly and nodded.

She didn’t realize how quickly time passed. She stayed there and they talked casually, she asked him to sing, and he did, until he complained with mock self-pity about his tired and sore throat. The night went by and the last thing she remembered was him talking about a fashion show in Paris.

Next thing she knew, she was waking slowly to the lyrics of Sweet Child o’ Mine. She hummed in satisfaction. Her neighbor’s - Killian’s - voice sounded less rough today. Actually, it sounded clearer than she’d ever heard it.

Then she started getting a scent that reminded her of sea, and leather, and... lavender. She never used lavender fabric softener for her sheets. She opened her eyes.

According to the alarm clock on the nightstand beside her, it was 8:15 in the morning. The bedroom was bright and simply furnitured, and completely unfamiliar to her.

Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place Where as a child I'd hide And pray for the thunder and the rain To quietly pass me by

She sat up on the bed. That was definitely Killian’s voice, and the structure of the bedroom reminded her of her own. She was wearing her clothes from yesterday night and had apparently been taking the whole bed.

Oh, sweet child o’ mine…

She rose and followed the voice to the kitchen. Killian had his back half-turned to her, leaning on the counter as he cut a pineapple into slices. On the table was a jug with fresh-looking orange juice, a few slices of rye bread and a jar with honey, along with silverware, two plates and Emma’s serving tray, with the two mugs from yesterday lying on it upside down.

“Good morning, love,” he said, turning to her. If she hadn’t known that he, as well as other Brits, used the word “love” for basically any acquaintance of his, and if she hadn’t been wearing her normal clothes, she would have been happy to imagine that this was a morning they were going to spend as something more than simple co-workers.

“Good morning. What happened last night?”

“You fell asleep on my couch. I tried to wake you up but you were dead to the world. So I… carried you to my bedroom, and don’t worry, I had just put new sheets.”

She was sure she was looking like an idiot but couldn’t stop her eyes from bulging and her eyebrows from rising. He had carried her, as in, bride-style and put her to bed? “And where did you sleep?”

“On the couch. It’s pretty comfortable, I have to admit.”

“Oh,” was all she could say. She sat down at the table. “Thank you.”

“I guess we’re even now,” he said with a soft smile. He looked happy.

She wrung her hands together. “Hardly,” she said. “I just brought you some tea and you let me sleep in your bed because I was too lazy to go upstairs in my own place.”

“You weren’t lazy, you were tired.” He sat on the chair next to her. “Pineapple?”

She obliged and took a slice. It was really tasty. “You work a lot, and it was Friday so it would make sense you would be a little extra tired,” he added.

“A lot? How do you know that?”

“Well, the Nolans are famous for their nice attitude towards their employees, but not for their lenience. If you weren’t hard-working you wouldn’t be where you are.” His voice sounded very calm, and his face looked warm, relaxed and happy. He seemed happy to just spend time with her. He was still in his pyjamas, a few buttons on the top undone, his hair a slight mess and his eyes a little puffy from sleep but he looked the happiest she’d ever seen him.

Quickly, she pulled herself together and raised from her chair. “I should get going. I have to go shopping today,” she lied. She didn’t even know why she had stayed that long and hadn’t run out the door the moment she realized she was still in Killian’s place.

“Oh, don’t you want some juice?” he asked as he raised as well.

“No, it’s- it’s okay, I…” she trailed off as she looked into his eyes, closer than ever before. They were blue, very blue, and they were twitching slightly, as he focused on each of her eyes at a time, and then they flickered towards her lips. They only lingered there for half a second but that was enough to send Emma forward, crushing her lips to his. She more felt than heard his soft oof at the sudden contact but kissed her back quickly. Her one hand grasped at his shirt while the other rose to touch the nape of his neck, fingers softly brushing his dark hair. She could faintly hear his breath getting heavier and faster as he opened his mouth for her, his hand barely brushing her middle, as if uncertain if he was allowed to touch her.

Suddenly, she stopped. Eyes closed, she leaned her forehead into his, lips almost still touching, his warm breath caressing her lips and chin. Her hand left his nape to rest just a little under his collarbone, and she felt his heart beat in a rhythm as erratic as her own. She opened her eyes. His body was leaning towards her as if asking for more, and his eyes were still closed. He definitely didn’t regret it, and if she was to be honest with herself, neither did she.

Slowly, she stepped back. He raised his eyes and looked at her with his lips slightly open, expecting her next move. Who the hell was he really?

“See you Monday,” she said simply and walked out the door without looking back at him. After closing the door, she leaned on it and let her body slide down, sitting on the floor. The kiss was… well, hot. He smelled like spice and sea salt and was actually kissing her back, not taking more than she was giving. He barely even touched her himself. She sighed. She felt like the infatuated school girl she never got to be.

They weren’t exactly friends. They barely even worked together, they’d barely spoken yet she’d felt so comfortable throughout the night, but how would he react if she kept avoiding him the whole weekend? For her, it would certainly be a hard weekend to get through, especially if he started singing again. She stood up and for two seconds contemplated knocking on his door before she turned around and almost ran to her apartment.

It was only after she’d closed her own door that she realized she had forgotten her tray at Killian’s place.

[therollyjodger]

To my Captain Swan Secret Valentine @imharryaf

I sent you a lot of messages, but then I saw you were having problems with them. I didn’t want you to think that I hadn’t sent you anything. I also didn’t want to not make you something, even though we had never talked. I hope you have a wonderful Valentines day. Maybe now we could talk?

From, therollyjodger, your cssv.

[shipsxahoy]

CS AU || Not What You Expect 

Your happy ending may not be what you expect, but that is what will make it so special.  - Snow White, 3x11

Princess Emma, along with her parents, ruled over the kingdom Misthaven in relative peace… until one night, the Dark One comes to collect on a deal that her parents had made to ensure her safety before she was born.

Emma decides to strike a counter-deal with Rumplestiltskin: if she could find her true love by the next new moon, he would leave their kingdom and her family alone for good.

Not one to sit around waiting for a prince to come save her, Emma then sets out to find the one who spent his whole life (and then some) hunting down the Dark One—Captain Killian “Hook” Jones, notorious pirate and scourge of the seven seas. Together, they go on a quest to defeat the Dark One once and for all… and perhaps find true love along the way.

Happy Valentines to @beautiful-unfolding! ♥ your CSSV, xoxo

[narniaandplowmen]

Neighbours

Also on AO3 Rated: General Audiences Fandom: Once Upon A Time

I rewrote the little drabble I wrote for csvalentine on tumblr in 2015, for @saaviorspirate 

When Emma meets David's new roommate and she accidentally agrees to go on a date with him, things do indeed go as bad as she thought. Or don't they? 

“Emma, can you open the door, please? I am just about to take a shower!” Mary Margaret called after the ringing sound of the doorbell startled them both. “Okay!” Emma walked to the door, one eye in her textbook: “Federal Rules of Civil Procedure”. Just one more year and she would finish her Law studies, something she was desperately looking forward to. She carefully moved towards the door, silently whispering the text as she read. Still eying the text, she grabbed the handle and pulled, revealing a handsome stranger. Suddenly, her exam tomorrow seemed a lot less important. The man had raven hair and intensely blue eyes, with cheekbones one could cut bricks with. 'Hello?' 'Hey!' The stranger held out his hand. 'My name is Killian. I just moved in next door.' He quickly nodded in the direction of his new apartment whilst Emma looked at him, with open mouth. Not only was he very attractive, he was also British? That was simply unfair. Suddenly her eyes fell on the still outstretched arm and moving her textbook from her right to her left hand she quickly shook it. 'Hi. I'm Emma.' A melodious sound came from behind her as Mary Margeret started singing her favourite song of the day. 'That's my roommate, Mary Margaret. Did you move in with David?' She had heard the man talk about his search for a new roommate to share the costs of the rent. Graham, his previous roomie, had moved out and taken a job as a Sherriff in a small town a little while away. 'I did, a friend of mine knew him and heard he was looking for someone. I just started my masters here and was looking for a bit more permanent place to live. My previous place was on the other side of town, and extremely expensive. This Mary Margaret is David's girlfriend, right?' Emma nodded. The story of how the two had met was actually quite funny. David had lost his keys and was waiting for Mary Margaret to come home, as their balconies were connected. He had hoped to be able to enter his home through the balcony door, but Mary Margaret had panicked when she saw a stranger leaning against her door when she came home from doing groceries and she had hit him with a packet of butter. After the situation was properly explained she felt so guilty she had invited him in for a cup of tea, and the rest was history. 'Yeah, she is. You'll see her around soon enough, she's busy now. What do you study?' 'Marine biology, you?' he eyed the textbook she was still holding. 'Law, I have an exam tomorrow.' 'Then I will not disturb you much longer. I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself.' he smiled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. 'I'll see you around?' 'Sure.' 'Good luck with your exam!' he turned and walked away as Emma stared. Shit. She was in a lot of trouble.

~~

'Who was at the door?' Mary Margaret asked as she came back into the room, all washed and ready. 'David's new roommate. He came to say hi and introduce himself. His name is Killian.' 'Oh! David told me, I am sorry, I forgot to tell you. You were so busy studying and I had to prepare for classes, it totally slipped my mind. How was he? David showed me a picture, he is very handsome.' Emma looked up and saw a familiar expression on her friend's face. It was Mary Margaret's personal life mission to get Emma happily married, sooner rather than later. 'He's nothing special, honestly.' she told her. 'He studies Marine biology. You'll meet him soon enough.' 'Nothing special. That didn't exactly cover the mischievous smirk, bright eyes, handsome beard, bulging arm muscles she was sure were hidden underneath the leather coat. But she kept repeating the words to herself anyway, as she resumed studying. Nothing special, nothing special, nothing special. She didn’t really know who she was fooling. She knew she couldn’t fool herself. But she couldn't, shouldn’t, wouldn’t allow herself to make that mistake again. No love for her. Not after Neal. She shouldn’t think about Neal. Nothing special, nothing special. Focus on her studies instead. Law was something she was able to handle. Rules, logic, argumentation. As a lawyer, she would be in a position of power. She would be able to defend those who couldn't defend herself, give others a chance she didn't get. 'No,' she berated herself, 'don't think of Neal.'

~~

A laughing voice echoed through the hallway as the door swung open and Mary Margeret entered after her date with David. 'Emma?! Why are you still awake? You have an exam tomorrow, you should be resting!' 'Hey MM, just revising the last chapter.' MM was the nickname Emma had given her closest friend. It was shorter, and 'Emma and MM' sounded nice. 'How was your date?' 'It was so romantic! He took me to Granny’s Diner, the cute little diner on Main Street, do you know it? There were fairy lights everywhere, it was gorgeous.' The brunette opened the fridge to grab some OJ but halted in her tracks. 'Pancakes?' she looked at Emma with a curious face. 'Why did you make pancakes?' 'I received my grade for the Criminal Law exam I sat last week. I got an A-! I thought we should celebrate.' A high scream pierced her ears as Mary Margaret enveloped her in a hug. 'That is so great! Congratulations! We should definitely celebrate that! You know what, I'll put on my PJ's whilst you revise your last chapter. Then I'll warm up the pancakes when you get dressed and we can have a PJ party.'

~~

'That Killian lived quite a dramatic life.' MM said as Emma shovelled a blueberry pancake in her mouth. 'Apparently he got his BA in Marine Biology in England, and he got offered a job at his fiancée's research project.' Emma felt her heart drop. He was engaged. Of course he was, how could anyone as handsome as him still be single? Not that it mattered, he was nothing special after all. 'That was two years ago.' 'Two years? That's a long engagement. I mean, I assume they aren't married because he's living with David now.' 'She died. Something involving her jealous ex-boyfriend, some completely mental guy who broke out of prison several times.' 'Wow.' 'Yeah. And he had lost his brother just a year before that. The two grew up together, they were orphans.' The 'just like you' hung in the air, unspoken. 'Shit man.' Emma simply said. 'Why is he here?' 'To get away from everything, I guess. Britain probably drags up too many painful memories. And the masters Marine biology offered here is the best in America, so I guess that helps.' MM shrugged as she drowned her own pancake in Maple Syrup. 'But what an awful life. I don't envy him.'

~~

“Happy birthday David!” Emma smiled and hugged the tall blonde. 'You're getting old, man!' she teased. 'Here is your present, but I should have bought you a rocking chair.' David laughed as he opened the package, hugging her tightly when it revealed a gorgeous watch she knew he had wanted for quite some time. 'Thank you so much! It's gorgeous! How did you know?' The apartment was already filled with people and Emma carefully made her way to the table with snacks. As she arrived she suddenly heard a British voice behind her. 'Hey! Emma, right?' She turned to face the handsome stranger that had rang the doorbell only a small week ago. 'Hey Killian.' 'How did your exam go?' 'Okay, I guess. I am not sure, I don't have the grade back yet. How are you settling in?' Before she knew it the two had talked through the night, and when she woke up the next morning with a huge hangover her phone somehow contained his number and her planner reminded her that in two days she would go on a date with one Killian Jones. She groaned and chugged a big glass of water before facing herself in the mirror. 'He's nothing special.' She told her reflection, 'You will not make another mistake again. Remember Neal. Remember-' she ran towards the toilet to puke her guts out. Forget Neal. Forget Neal.

~~

She had hoped that he would have been drunk enough to forget about it, but the following morning she had met him in the hallway and he had made it clear the date was still on. She didn't have a good excuse not to go, so she was stuck with it for the time being. She tried not to think of Neal and she reminded herself, once again, that he was nothing special. It seemed to have become a personal mantra. Nothing special. Don't think of Neal. Nothing special. He picked her up at home right on time and took her to a little Italian restaurant hidden in an alley off Main Street. As they sat down a small man with a heavy Italian accent, apparently the owner, approached the two, carrying a stack of menus. ''ello Killian, 'ello beautiful lady!' He greeted loudly, handing them each one menu. 'Killian, 'ow are you? Where did you pick up this beautiful lady? What is 'er name?' She smiled and introduced herself. 'Emma? What a beautiful name, fitting a beautiful lady! You are one lucky man!' The man turned around and started to leave them, but he bumped into a new customer that had just entered the store and dropped all of his menus. 'Mamma mia! Mi dispiace, I am so sorry!' Emma started to smile at the fact that the man actually used the phrase 'mamma mia', but she soon froze as she saw the face of the person who entered. 'Emma.' 'Neal.'

~~

As if it couldn't get any worse. She was on a date she couldn't even remember going on, with a man that she found way too dangerously attractive, the first date she had been on since Neal- And now he was there, right in front of her. She hadn't seen him since- She didn't want to think about it. She practically felt Neal's eyes bore into her skin as he looked at her and Killian. A wicked grin spread across his face. 'Emma, I haven't seen you in ages. How's the baby doing?' The words cut straight through her, piercing her heart like poisoned arrows. 'You- You know perfectly well. What are you doing here, Neal?' 'May I introduce you to my finacée? Tamara, Emma. Emma, Tamara.' She suddenly noticed the woman behind him. 'Hello!' Tamara greeted happily, completely ignorant of the tension in the air. 'Tamara, be a dear and get a seat. I'll be there soon, I just want to catch up with some old friends. Nothing interesting to you.' The woman smiled and turned, walking towards a table on the other side of the room.

'So, Killian,' Neal now turned towards the Brit sitting opposite of her. They knew each other. Of course they did. Because why would Emma ever be allowed to trave anywhere or meet anyone that was not somehow connected to her awful past. The universe didn't allow her to forget. Not that she ever could. Her hand briefly brushed her abdomen. 'How is it to fuck a used bottle?' Neal continued. 'Perfectly new once you’re 3 inches in.' Killian simply replied, his jaw tense. 'Oh really? Well, I suppose you are used to second-hand girlfriends, aren’t you?'. Emma blinked and suddenly the two men were on the floor, throwing punches. The owner, who had finally collected all of his menus, dropped them again and tried to tear them apart, but the man was way too small to have any chance of success. Emma simply stared at the chaos, frozen in place, unable to move, or think, or do anything, really. Neal was here. He knew Killian. He was fighting Killian. Now Kilian knew about- Neal was here. She could never escape him. He had a new victim. Neal was here. She wasn't safe. Neal was here.

After what seemed like ages, but must have only been seconds, a tall man rose from a nearby table as his red-haired wife looked at the fight in shock, and before Emma could take another breath Neal and Killian were separated. 'What the fuck is wrong with you two?! If you want to fight you can go take boxing lessons, don't do it in a restaurant where I'm trying to have a romantic dinner with my wife.' The stranger spat, obviously disgusted at the sudden outburst of violence. 'What are you two? Twelve? Get out of here, and take your fiancée. The blonde lady and her date were here first.' It seemed like Neal wanted to protest, but as he looked at the man towering over him he changed his mind. 'Tamara, let's go. I don't want to eat at the same place whores go for their date. Let's go somewhere else.' The diner seemed to hold its breath after the door slammed shut behind the pair. 'Thank you sir, you will get your dinner on the house.' The owner was the first to break the silence. 'Thank you so much for saving my restaurant, Mr...?' 'Eric. And there really is no need.' 'I insist!'

~~

Emma and Killian ate in silence, but the mood for the night was pretty much ruined. 'I'm sorry about that.' He said as they were parked in the McDonald's parking lot with their McFlurries. 'I knew him back in the day. I assume Mary Margaret has informed you about my past?' Emma blushed and nodded. 'She's not very good at keeping secrets. And David shares everything with her.' 'I assumed so. He is the son of- of the man that killed my fiancée. He and I- We don't get along.' It was silent for a long time. 'I knew him when I was younger.' Emma started, not sure why she was telling this story to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger to her. But once she started, she couldn't stop. 'He was my boyfriend. I met him- I met him when I tried to steal his car. I- I am an orphan, I grew up in the foster care system. But I ran away a lot. I didn't have anything, so I stole to get by. We were a team, or so I thought. I loved him. I got pregnant. When I told him I thought he was happy, but less than a week later he framed me for stealing over $10.000 worth of watches. I only ever stole to survive, never- never something big, like this. He made sure I got caught, and I ended up in jail. He claimed he didn't know that I was a thief, and he broke up with me.' Tears were streaming down her face. 'I got an abortion whilst in prison. It was either that or let the child grow up in foster care. Death is a kinder fate.' They ate the rest of their ice cream in silence and then drove home.

~~

'I'm sorry for everything that happened tonight. I hope you still enjoyed the food.' Killian waited for a moment, and then looked down and whispered, 'and my company.' Emma smiled. 'I did. Thank you. And thank you for hitting him, I am sure he will have quite some bruises after what you did to him.' She bit her lower lip. 'And thank you for listening. For not judging. I haven't really told anyone about that before, save for Mary Margaret.' Killian looked up. 'Thank you for your trust.' It was silent once again. 'So-' 'Now-' they both started. 'Sorry, you first.' Killian hesitated, then nodded. 'Are you free, tomorrow night? Maybe we can do this over again. I mean, not this, but another date. Better. Somewhere where I don't have to punch someone to the ground. Don't get me wrong, it was very cathartic, I have been wanting to do that for ages, but-' 'I'd love to.'

Not a single thought in her head focussed on Neal. Only on the soft lips touching hers.

[adriata-archive]

to be drunk and in love

for cs valentine’s day

Prompt: Both characters are bartenders serving happy couples and miserable singles on Valentine’s Day. How ever will they make it through such an awful shift?

“This is quite possibly my least favorite day out of the entire year,” Emma says abruptly, startling a laugh out of Killian that almost makes him drop the bottle of rum that he’s holding.

“And why is that, love?” he asks, carefully placing the bottle in its proper spot on the shelf.

Emma shrugs and continues to wipe down the counter. “Why does anyone hate Valentine’s Day?”

Killian rolls his eyes and bumps her shoulder with his, grinning when she reciprocates with a great deal more force. He relishes in this familiarity, one that he’d never expected to receive when he’d first met Emma exactly one year ago, when she’d stumbled into the Rabbit Hole in a skintight pink dress to meet what he had presumed was a date and had ended up handcuffing the bloke to a stool.

(Definitely not a date.)

Needless to say, he’s been smitten ever since, and had been beyond thrilled when Emma had finally accepted Ruby’s offer to bartend on nights when she “wasn’t being an absolute badass.” An offer that was made because, according to Ruby, they could always use another female bartender who knew how to ward off unwanted company away with a mere look, and she’d always had a knack for sniffing out the downtrodden and picking them back up again.

She’d done it for Killian, after all.

“Swan, you just endangered top shelf rum. The least you can do is open up a titch,” Killian says, making a poor attempt to mask his distaste for the man who returns to the bar every ten minutes, sending a drink to a different woman each time.

Emma follows Killian’s gaze, openly scowling at the customer and rolling her eyes when he tries to wink at her. She knows she’d probably get a thorough scolding for her poor customer service at any other bar, and she also knows that Ruby will get a good laugh about it later. She turns to Killian to make a joke at the guy’s expense, but the comment dies on her tongue when she sees the hard look in his eyes and watches his jaw clench.

“Killian?” Emma tugs on his shirt (the sleeves of which are rolled up to his elbows, because Killian isn’t stupid and while his bartending is truly excellent, they all know that’s not the reason he makes so much in tips every night) and patiently waits for him to turn to face her. “Hey, the guy’s a cad, but it’s fine. Honestly.”

They both know that it’s a little less than fine, but they can’t do anything to remove Guy from the bar without just cause, so they settle for keeping an eye out for the women he chooses to approach and overcharging him for every drink.

“Aye,” Killian says, offering her a small smile. She can tell he’s still bothered, but willing to drop it for her sake, so she gives his arm a last squeeze before attending to the next customers.

This couple is sickly sweet, all doey eyes and yearning looks, and Emma makes a mental note to bet Killian that Snow White and her Prince Charming will be hooking up in a dark corner of the bar by eleven o’clock. She glances over her shoulder to catch his attention, but Killian is already looking at the couple with something akin to distaste and when his eyes shift to hers, his is a shit-eating grin. Emma has to suppress an eye roll when the Charmings ask for two poisoned apple martinis, the special for the night, and flashes them an ingenuine smile as she starts to make their drinks.

“I was going to say you still owe me an explanation for your abhorrence of this particular holiday, but after seeing those two, I’m inclined to agree,” Killian mutters, right into her ear, and Emma snorts.

“What about you? How’s short, gloomy, and bitter doing over there?” Emma asks, tilting her head towards the man they’d deemed Grumpy when he’d realized he’d been stood up and slumped up to the bar with a deep scowl on his face.

It’s Killian’s turn to roll his eyes. “He’s had about five beers, so he’s currently waxing poetic about the woman he was supposed to meet. I believe that at some point, he attributed her to a fairy. In other circumstances, I would, perhaps, sympathize with the poor sap, but by the gods is he starting to get on my nerves.”

Emma arches an eyebrow and risks a glance at the Charmings. “Switch?”

Killian bites his lip in consideration and Emma has to force herself not to stare. “Hmm...switch.”

It’s a tactic they only use in extreme situations, usually when one of them is being relentlessly flirted with, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

It’s funny because, for all that she’ll complain and gripe, Emma’s not actually supposed to be working tonight.

Ruby had called her rather unexpectedly that morning, slight panic in her voice as she’d asked Emma to cover her closing shift so she could go on a date with this girl she’d been working up the courage to ask out for months. Emma had been (rightfully) hesitant, but then Ruby had mentioned that Killian would need the help and she’d found herself agreeing before she realized what she was doing.

Coworkers had to look out for one another, right?

Right.

Of course, Killian thinks he has nothing to do with the fact that Emma is covering for Ruby, and credits her with being a model employee several times throughout the night. Emma brushes it off every time, but doesn’t vehemently deny it the way she might have any other day. Better for Killian to think she’s employee of the month than find out that she’d agreed to cover Ruby’s shift for his sake.

“Another beer?” Emma asks Grumpy, inclining her head towards his empty glass. She really should cut him off, but he looks well and truly miserable, and Emma can relate. She’ll just call him a cab when he’s finally ready to leave.

“You know it, sister.”

She fills his glass and slides it back to him across the counter, and when he starts to reach for his wallet, Emma shrugs and says, “This one’s on the house.” She smiles at Grumpy, who ducks his head in thanks, and turns around to find Killian watching her with unveiled amusement.

“Savior of the broken-hearted, are you?”

Emma tilts her head to the side. “You make handing out free beers sound like an act of virtue,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“And you still owe me an answer,” Killian says cheerfully. Someone waves a hand to catch their attention and when Killian sees who it is, his joking demeanor disappears immediately. Despite his obvious irritation, he goes to deal with the sleazebag who insists on flirting with every woman in sight so that Emma doesn’t have to.

“That man is the walking epitome of bad form,” Killian informs her upon his return, his hand grazing the small of her back as he passes her. She nearly jumps at the contact, the gesture such a strange mix of casual and intimate that she has to wonder if Killian even realizes he’s doing it.

“Bad form?” Emma echoes. “So what would the walking epitome of good form be? You?” She grins as she says it, because they both know the answer to that question.

Killian winks, and all Emma can think is that he does it so much better than any other guy in the bar. “You tell me, love.”

“I don’t want to make your ego bigger than it already is,” Emma teases. She’s well aware that she’s going against her own rules by flirting with her coworker and she’s not even sure why she’s doing it, but it feels good - it feels right.

“Well, Swan, I’ll have you know that exemplifying good form means more than letting a woman know you’re attracted to her. Good form is showing a woman you’re attracted to her, but not just physically. You have to let her know that you find other traits of hers just as alluring, like her wit, or her sense of humor, or the way her nose wrinkles when she’s making fun of someone…” he trails off, his smile positively sinful as he tilts his head until his forehead is resting against hers, and Emma’s pretty sure she’s forgotten how to breathe.

She clears her throat, and thanks all the stars above that her voice comes out reasonably steady. “Please, you couldn’t handle it.”

There’s a gleam in Killian’s eyes and Emma knows she’s in deep trouble now. “Perhaps it is you who couldn’t handle it, love.”

(And later, when the last customer has trudged out of the bar and Emma finds herself perched on the counter with her legs wrapped around Killian’s waist as he traces a path of kisses down her neck in his mission to prove that no, she can’t handle it, she decides that maybe Valentine’s Day isn’t so bad after all.)

[awkwardnessandbaseball]

CS Valentine’s One Shots: Day Two

Prompt: Revenge/Getting Back at an Ex

AO3

“Fuck Neal Gold,” Emma spat into the phone.

“Not that I disagree with you, love, but may I ask why?” Killian tried not to laugh.

Emma Swan had been dating Neal Gold for the better part of two years. Despite the fact that her best friend, Killian Jones, had been adamantly against it from the start. Neal was a spoiled, childish ass and Emma was… Emma.

Killian’s misgivings about Neal hadn’t had anything to do with the fact that he was in love with Emma. Not at first, anyway. As time went by, and he realized how strong his feelings for her were, his hatred for Neal grew and grew. Every time he bailed on her for “guys night” or nagged her for not having dinner ready when he got home from work, Killian’s blood boiled. And he knew about each and every one of those instances because Emma called him every single time.

He tried his best to avoid negativity in his life, but his feelings for Neal were the one exception.

“Just… he sucks. And I hate him.” Her anger dissipated and she was crying. Shit.

“I’m on my way, Swan.” Killian hung up the phone and climbed the three stories between his apartment and Emma’s. Neal had been crashing with her for six months or so, but he did technically still have a place of his own, so Killian was hoping he was gone.

The door opened before he even reached the landing, and there was Emma. Red-faced and teary-eyed, hair in a sloppy bun with pieces falling down all over. He pulled her into a hug and she sobbed against his chest. He slowly backed her into the apartment, not letting go, but knowing she wouldn’t want to be seen if one of the neighbors came up the stairs while she was crying. He gently led her to the couch in the living room, kicking the door shut behind him as they went.

“What happened? Last I heard, you two were…” Killian trailed off, leaving words like blissful, happy, in love left unsaid.

“He cheated. The fucking bastard.” The anger was back now. “Apparently it’s been going on for weeks. Maybe even longer. She’s like, the daughter of some businessman his dad works with. They met through their parents and Neal ‘didn’t have the heart’ to break up with me.” She shook her head. “I hate him.”

Me too, Killian thought to himself. But Killian had hated Neal since they’d gone to high school together. Neal had been an ass then, too, and a bit of a bully. He’d never done anything to Killian himself, but he’d had enough of a reputation that Killian hated him anyway. That Neal had now broken Emma’s heart, after treating her like garbage for most of their relationship anyway, only increased Killian’s strong hatred for the man.

“We should get back at him,” Emma said suddenly, looking directly at Killian for the first time since he’d arrived. “Ruby’s having that party next week. We should go together. He’ll be so mad.”

Ruby Lucas was notorious for having parties that started off classy – 3-course meals, at least three wine options, and occasionally even a waitstaff if she could get the employees from her grandmother’s diner to do it for cheap – and ended up with half the guests passed out on the living room floor. Killian was sure her Valentine’s Day party would be no different. And while he wanted to be there to support Emma, and he’d love to see the look on Neal’s face when they walked in the door together, he also didn’t want to watch Emma and Neal get wine-drunk and rekindle their romance.

“I don’t know, Swan. Maybe give it some time and he’ll—”

“Killian, I am not getting back together with Neal. Not after this. I want him to feel the way I feel right now. And you were going to the party anyway, weren’t you?” Her eyes were bloodshot from crying, but she looked more alive than she had in… probably weeks, Killian realized.

“I wasn’t planning on it, actually,” he admitted. He found himself continuing without thinking. “But if you want me there—”

“Yes! Killian, I do. I mean, I did anyway, but now I positively need you there.” She stood suddenly. She was plotting and pacing. “We’ll show up, holding hands, acting like we’re dating. I bet Neal brings this new bitch, too. I wonder if she knows I exist. Oh man, if she doesn’t… maybe she’ll dump his sorry ass, too. Wouldn’t that just be perfect?” She stopped her laps around the room and looked at Killian expectantly.

“Yep, perfect.” Killian couldn’t help but feel like he’d just signed up for a battle he wasn’t quite ready to fight.

~~

The night of the party, Killian was still unsure if this was the right move. But Emma looked incredible, wearing a skintight pink dress that she must have purchased post-breakup, because it looked brand spankin’ new.

Oh no, Killian could not think about spanking while out with Emma Swan, pretending to date her. Nope.

He sighed as she grabbed his hand while he knocked on the door. He’d wanted Emma to hold his hand for years, but not as a prank to make someone else jealous…

“Hey you guys! I’m so glad you could make it!” Ruby embraced Emma as soon as she opened the door, and then froze as she noticed their hands, still intertwined. “Oh my God did you guys finally—”

“No, we—”

“Yes!” Emma cut Killian off, squeezing his hand so hard that her nails dug into his flesh. “I know, Neal and I just broke up, but I’ve kind of had a thing for Killian forever. Seemed silly to wait, so here we are!” She held up their linked hands in a victorious motion. Killian forced a smile.

“Ugh, it’s about time!” Ruby hugged the two of them together. “You two have been making goo-goo eyes at each other for like, years.”

Killian turned his head to look at Emma as Ruby released them, allowing them entrance. He caught a blush forming on her cheeks before she shook her head, causing her hair to block his view.

Neal was surprisingly absent, leading Killian to wonder how much longer he’d have to put on the most painful charade of his life. She clutched his hand, sat in his lap, and clung to him like a life raft. After about an hour, Killian started ignoring the pang in his heart. Instead, he squeezed her hip and nuzzled her neck and purposely forgot that this was all an act to make someone jealous. Especially since that someone wasn’t even present to witness any of the over-the-top flirtations going on as Ruby refilled wine glasses over and over again.

Killian generally didn’t get wine drunk, but Ruby just kept bringing him more every time he finished a glass, and soon he was warm from the alcohol and from Emma Swan’s body pressed up against his just so. She was more sober than he was, and sitting up completely straight, mindlessly running a hand through his hair. She turned to look at him, a sparkle in her eye and a small smile on her face. And before he could talk himself out of it, Killian leaned forward to catch her lips in a kiss.

It was quick and chaste, but they may as well have had each other right there on the armchair they shared for the amount of stress he suddenly felt in his chest. There was tension in his shoulders and Emma’s hand had stopped moving. She was staring at him and he couldn’t read her expression—

And then she was kissing him. It was soft and slow, almost lazy. But she was smiling against his lips and his hands were creeping up her back. Her fingers were in his hair again, but where before they had combed, now they tugged. Killian was lost in the moment, in the wine, in Emma Swan kissing him.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Neal.

The whole room – every couple who’d been snuggling on a separate piece of furniture, Ruby with her ever-present and seemingly endless bottle of wine, each and every person – stopped their conversation, their movement, everything on the spot. Everyone stared right at the newcomers: Neal and a girl no one had met before. Killian felt his hands curl into fists from beneath Emma’s shirt, and his jaw clenched as Emma’s eyes lost their sparkle and her lips turned downward.

“What I’m doing is none of your business,” Emma said flatly.

The girl Neal had brought was looking around the room in confusion.

“Neal, who is that?”

Oh dear, did the other woman not even know she was the other woman?

Emma seemed to come to the same realization, and a wicked smile formed on her face as she stood from Killian’s lap. He felt cold immediately, and wished she would come back. He found himself unable to move, mesmerized by whatever plan Emma had concocted so quickly.

“I’m his ex. We broke up a week ago. My name is Emma.” She was positively grinning now, no doubt waiting for everything to blow up in Neal’s face, just as she’d wanted from the start. Just as Neal deserved, really.

“Last week? No, Neal and I have been dating for almost three months.” The girl, who still hadn’t been introduced to anyone, shook her head in disbelief.

“Oh wow, he didn’t tell you? Yeah we were together for two years. He practically lived at my place.” Emma was shaking a bit and Killian reached forward to grab her hand. She couldn’t lose her nerve now. She surprised him by squeezing his hand once and then continuing to hold on.

“Tamara, don’t listen to—”

“Um, hi, did you forget that you’re in a room full of people who saw you with Emma at Christmas? And New Year’s? And literally every Tuesday for Trivia Night?” Ruby picked up an empty glass from the coffee table, filled it with wine, and handed it to the girl – Tamara, Neal had called her. “You’re welcome to stay, but he has to go.” She placed a hand on her hip and cocked an eyebrow at Neal.

For his part, Neal looked completely shocked by the order of events that had occurred since he’d walked in the door. But Ruby would never let an innocent girl get hurt by a liar like Neal if she could help it, so Killian wasn’t remotely surprised. Tamara took the glass of wine and sat in one of the few empty seats left in the room.

“My dad probably won’t like this very much.” She took a sip and stared at Neal for a moment, considering. “If you leave right now, I might not tell him that you lied to me for our entire relationship, and he might not break off his business dealings with your father. Maybe.”

“This is—” Neal stopped himself when Tamara pulled out her phone with her free hand, never once taking her eyes from him. Her finger hovered over the screen, ready to make a call. Neal grumbled a bit, but saw himself out before he could dig himself an even deeper hole.

When he left, the entire party cheered and clapped. Ruby hugged Tamara, who looked like she might cry despite how tough she’d been to Neal’s face. Emma collapsed back on top of Killian’s legs.

“That was… well it was bloody brilliant, Emma.”

“It wasn’t… I didn’t mean to hurt that girl…” She was staring over at Tamara, who was downing her glass of wine while Ruby yammered on about what a loser Neal was.

“She had to find out, else she would have been even more hurt later. Just like you were.” He reached up and gently turned Emma’s face back towards him. She smiled. “Listen, Emma, about before. I was… we were…”

“Did you not like it?” She tilted her head.

“I didn’t say that.”

They stared each other down, a standoff to see who would speak first or move first or just fucking do something already first. In the end, Emma won. She crashed her lips back into Killian’s, her nails scraping his scalp as she tugged at his hair again.

“I’ve wanted to do that for an embarrassingly long time,” she whispered against his shoulder when they finally pulled apart. She adjusted her body so she was curled up against him.

“Me too, Swan. Probably even longer.” He spoke into her hair.

“We could probably do it again sometime.” Her voice was muffled and strained, like she was falling asleep but wanted to get her thoughts out first.

“Yes, I’d like that.”

[captainodonoghue]

Hello, I am your Secret Valentine. I send you an ask before but maybe it got eaten. So, how are you? How is your month so far? Do you have any specific request about your gift? And finally, what is your top three cs moments? -CSSV

Hello I am you CSSV . How are you? I hope that February is treating you well. I have some thoughts about your gift but what would you prefer to receive? Also, what is you top three captain swan moments? Have a great day.

Hey!!!!! I got it!! I waited until I was on desktop to answer in case I messed something up with the app!! 

I’m good!! What about you?? xD

I don’t really have preference! Anything CS is welcomed!!! I have so many favourite moments, it’s hard to choose!! haha

Off the top of my head, the scene when he came back in 5x21, both scenes where Killian dies (5x08 & 5x11), their wedding. But if you start telling me moments, I’ll be like ‘oh I love that scene, and that one and that one too’ !! hahaha What about you??

Edit: I want to add that I also love the pancakes scene!!! xD

[emmandhook]

CS SECRET VALENTINE 5th edition fuck yeah! Ahoy! We’re in the fifth edition of this game, it’s a great time to spread and share love about these dorks up there! NOTE: IF YOU DON’T READ THE RULES OR “HOW TO PARTICIPATE” CAREFULLY, CHANCES ARE THAT YOUR MESSAGE WILL BE IGNORED (it’s just the way tumblr works, please, respect it.)    WHAT IS THIS GAME?

CS secret valentine is a gift exchange, where you gift something to a random person and receive a gift from another random person! This event is open to everyone, regardless of skill level! The only requirement is a love for Captain Swan.

You will be assigned a person to send nice anonymous asks until valentine’s day! You can woo your valentine, send her pick up lines, fangirl with that person, send her jokes, question about their day, share headcanons, get to know her… Then, on Valentine’s day you can reveal yourself off anon.

HOW TO PARTICIPATE?

Enable the anon option for obvious reasons.

(if the anon option isn’t enabled, I won’t be able to assign you a valentine)

Send me a message ->HERE <- saying you’d like to participate.

ex: emmandhook, I'd like to participate.

SIDEBLOGS CAN PARTICIPATE. 

I IGNORE CHAT MESSAGES.

If you have A particular skill and you only want to do that as a gift: let me know in the same message.

Also, if you want to receive a certain type of thing, let me know in the same message too.

I’ll answer you with a blog that will be your Valentine.

Message your valentine anonymously until it’s Valetine’s day (aw!)

WHEN WILL I ANNOUNCE WHO’S YOUR VALENTINE? I’m a busy girl now, so this year, I'm getting help from Ally (@snarkycaptainswan, go and say hi to Ally) AND there are going to be only three days where we'll be able to send you PRIVATELY the name of the blog you’ve been assigned. jan 29th (monday) feb 5th (monday) feb 7th (wednesday) RULES AND SUGGESTIONS

REBLOG THIS POST TO SPREAD THE WORD.

DON’T tag in #captain swan. It can be annoying for many people. Tag your messages as #cssv or #csvalentines instead (use whatever you like).

WOO YOUR VALENTINE (get to know her, make her some pancakes, send poems, compliments, buy her onion rings or you can always give your sibling’s ring to say ILY)

Be relatively active in sending asks / answering asks! You don’t have to send daily asks but at least 2-3 times a week. It’s unfair if someone puts a lot of effort in and you don’t or if you don’t reply to your secret valentine. Let’s make this game enjoyable for everyone!

Ask your valentine what they’d like to get! Your valentine chooses the content of gift, the gift is for them, not for you. (What does this mean? It means that your valentine makes a wishlist and you’ll do your best to surprise her by choosing one -or more, whatever suits you- of those wishes. Don’t ask her to pick a certain thing when you never asked her what she’d like to get or see, for example).

Don’t tell your valentine you’re her/his secret valentine. Pretend you’re a random follower who’s interested in that person. This is a great way to make friends without feeling commited (this is a suggestion, do whatever you want).

ABOUT THE GIFTS:

1. We’ll post our gifts on Valentine’s Day (and with that, we’ll reveal our identities).

note: if you can’t post your gift on 14th, it’s all right as long as you alert your valentine.

2. The gift can be whatever are your skills. Again: ask your valentine what she’d like to get.

3. And, again, if you have a especial request about the gift (you only like stories, you only like drawings, you only like…) let me know and I’ll assign you a especial valentine.

4. Your valentine can get all the gifts you’re willing to make. Deadline to join us: February 7th If you have any other questions feel free to send me messages here. There will be days I won’t answer that quickly, don’t freak out if you don’t get an answer soon. Let the game begin. ;D

[therollyjodger]

Hey, Jess! I love your idea, what're your favorite quotes/songs that fit cs? And how about favorite colors? I just realized we are the some age. Ha! But shhh that's a small clue. I hope you had a great week! Love, cssv.

Right… quotes:- “love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another.”-“Before I met you, I never knew what it was like to be able to look at someone and smile for no reason.”- “I can’t promise to fix all your problems but I can promise that you won’t have to face them alone.”

And songs:- This Love by Taylor Swift- arms by Christina Perri - the words by Christina Perri

I hope this has given you some ideas CSSV. As for colours, I’m going to leave that up to you. Go with what you feels right as I know gifs can look weird in some colours. So I’ll leave that up to you. I hope you have a lovely week too. Sorry this took me a few days for me to reply… it’s been a busy week.

[suzylwade]

Bogus Studio “We’re serving elixirs and booze that you can mix into the coconut water,” - C. S. Valentin, Creative Director ‘Bogus Studio’. The way C.S. Valentin sees it, there are enough cafés in Mexico City. What the metropolis really needs is a coconut water bar. Specifically, a street cart in the middle of the new store ‘Colima 159' home to 'Bogus Studio'—the furniture and textile brand Valentin runs with fellow creative director Alexander Diaz Andersson—as well as a showcase for emerging local talent, like ceramics studio 'Cerámica Suro' and leather accessories line 'Ruiz Musi'. ‘Bogus Studio’ has arrived in Mexico City peeps. #neonurchin #neonurchinblog #dedicatedtothethingswelove #suzyurchin #ollyurchin #art #music #photography #fashion #film #words #pictures #neon #urchin #interiordesign #furniture #softfurnishings #blancocolima #mexicocity #hotelesencia #alexanderdiazandersson #atra #csvalentin #bogusstudio https://www.instagram.com/p/B8OMgiLg-Qa/?igshid=sp1uw28hpjit

[adriata-archive]

CS Valentine’s Day Countdown: Secret Admirer

The package is gone when he gets back from the gym. He’d hurried out of the building as soon as he’d dropped it off, lest the beautiful blonde in apartment 20 saw him and asked him why he was leaving things outside her door. What he really wants is to ask her out on a proper date, before, during, or after Valentine’s Day, he doesn’t particularly care - he just wants to get to know her, make her laugh, learn what makes her tick. But, like a damn fool, he always gets so tongue-tied in front of her that he ends up seeming like a complete arse.

The amount of knowledge he has about her is on the verge of being stalker-ish, but he can’t help the way his eyes track her whenever she’s in the room. He’s a bumbling idiot around her, and when he’d finally gathered up the courage to strike up a conversation (three whole months after he’d moved into the building) and ask how her day was going, she’d stumbled while carrying a bag of groceries and he’d barely reached her in time to prevent a fruit casualty.

She had given him a small smile and quietly said her thanks, and Killian had floated on that interaction for weeks. She’d been wearing gray sweatpants, her hair in a messy bun and her glasses sliding down her nose, and she had looked absolutely glorious.

Who’s he kidding? She always looks glorious.

So glorious, in fact, that Killian reverts to a blushing schoolboy under her gaze. Hence, him leaving copious amounts of chocolate on her doorstep the day before Valentine’s day instead of asking her out like a sane person.

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from leaving a fresh bouquet of red and white carnations for her that evening.

He drops them off outside of his door and knocks twice, then books it down the hallway towards the elevators. He feels like a bloody stalker, but he wants to see the look on her face when she receives the flowers and figures he’ll casually stroll by like he’s just getting home and nonchalantly ask who they’re from. He’ll be eloquent and charming and drop subtle hints that the flowers are from him, and she’ll be so flustered by his flirting that her eyes will follow him until he closes his apartment door behind him.

He has a plan, and he’s determined to see it through.

This plan naturally fails as soon as Killian begins to execute it.

The blonde - Swan, according to her mailbox, and because her name couldn’t be anything less than the epitome of grace and elegance - opens her door just enough to poke her head out into the hallway. Her gaze falls to the flowers on her welcome mat and she looks down the hallway, and then towards the elevators, and Killian’s heart leaps into his throat because he’s certain that she’s looking directly at him and he’s so bloody embarrassed that he’s been caught -

But then she looks back down at the flowers, her eyebrows furrowing as she frowns and gingerly picks up the bouquet. He can see her mouthing the words as she reads the card, and can even hear her voice saying the ridiculous pun he’d thrown together.

If you ask me, we’d make a great pear.

He’d scribbled something vaguely resembling a pear below the writing and had signed the card a secret admirer, thinking it to be mysterious and romantic, but Swan’s mouth twists into something like distaste and his plan of charming her and revealing his identity flies out the window. Instead, Killian makes a ridiculously conspicuous amount of noise as he turns the corner, walking towards his apartment with purpose and stopping next to Swan as though he’s shocked to see her standing there.

“Evening,” he says in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice, a polite smile fixed onto his face as Swan’s own shifts into a grimace.

“Hey.” Her tone is friendly enough, but he’s heard her laugh - a joyous, carefree thing - and seen her genuine smile, and desperately wishes she’d direct either of those things at his undeserving self.

“Lovely, those,” Killian says, motioning towards the flowers awkwardly. “I presume they’re from a suitor.”

This time, Swan begrudgingly smiles the tiniest bit, and Killian almost floats.

“Seriously, what kind of twenty something year old guy says stuff like that?” She says it jokingly, so as not to cause offense, but she could insult his very essence and he’d be thrilled. “No, they’re not from a suitor. They’re from a secret admirer.” She rolls her eyes and he thinks he’s forgotten how to breathe because he’s talking to Swan and she’s teasing him like they’re friends and it’s too much for his poor heart to handle.

“You sound displeased at the prospect,” Killian observes, casually - very, very casually. Too casually, probably, but he hopes his acting is better than his fruit puns, because apparently those left something to be desired.

Swan shrugs and waves at the bouquet. “It’s nice and all, sure, but I have no idea who sent these and there was another package this morning with really good drinking chocolate in it and it’s too much of a coincidence to not be creepy, you know? Like, I don’t know who this person is, but they obviously know something about me? Is it just me or is that weird?”

“I...suppose, when you put it like that, it does come off as rather...off-putting,” Killian says carefully.

“Yes, thank you! I said the same thing to Mary Margaret but she kept insisting that it was this grand romantic gesture.” Another eye roll, another instance of Killian’s heart skipping a beat.

“I don’t pretend to know the bloke sending you flowers and chocolate, but I can’t blame him for trying his absolute best to woo someone such as yourself.” He winks, or tries to - he’s pretty sure it looks like his face is suffering from a spasm, but then Swan’s cheeks turn pink and he figures his mini seizure comes across better than he thinks.

“And what does that mean?” There’s a smile threatening to break its way to the surface, and Killian wonders a) if she’s flirting with him and b) if this is what heaven is like.

“It means,” he says, daring to lean in a little, “that if I had the opportunity to be gifted a bit of your time, I wouldn’t need to resort to material things to win your affection.”

He’s lying through his teeth, because that is exactly what he’s done, but he hopes that this will go completely unnoticed.

Swan squints up at him, standing her ground and refusing to give him even an inch, which means if he tilts his head down enough he could be kissing  her (get a grip, Killian, get back to the plan, you have a mission).

“Is that so?” She’s definitely smiling now - smirking is a better word for it, really - and Killian finds himself grinning in return.

“You’re welcome to see for yourself.”

“We don’t even know each others’ names,” Swan says, but she laughs a little and Killian jumps at the opportunity.

He leans away from her, just enough to hold out his hand, and says, “Killian Jones, at your service.”

She’s trying to smother her smile again, but it’s too late, so she reaches out to take his hand and doesn’t even bother going through the actual motion of shaking it. “Emma. Emma Swan.”

“Now that we’ve cleared up your main concern...what do you say, Emma? Willing to try something new?”

Emma - her name is a sigh in his mind - unleashes the full force of her smile on him and it is dazzling. “How does Friday sound?”

He manages to contain his glee until Emma is safely back inside her apartment, but as soon as he hears the door closed he’s fist pumping the air and practically skipping the short distance to his own residence because somehow his plan had worked perfectly - just not the way he had intended, but he finds he doesn’t mind.

A/N: Alt. scene courtesy of my friend:

Emma: “Is that so?”

Killian: *leans in really close, closes his eyes and seems like he’s going in for a kiss*

Killian: *suddenly opens his eyes and screams* BET