The Doctor - You Bested Me
Tallahassee - I Was Hoping It’d Be You
Into the Deep - I Think He May Care For You
Queen of Hearts - When I Jab You with My Sword, You’ll Feel it
In the Name of the Brother - I’d Pick You
And Straight on Til Morning - You and I, We Understand Each Other
Heart of the Truest Believer - I Quite Fancy You, From Time to Time
Lost Girl - Perhaps I Would
Quite A Common Fairy - My Boyfriend? Hook?
Good Form - As You Wish
Ariel - Until I Met You
Dark Hollow - When I Win Your Heart
The New Neverland - The Long Haul
Going Home - Good
New York City Serenade - I Came Back to Save You
The Tower - It Means it Still Works
The Jolly Roger - I Swear on Emma Swan
Bleeding Through - Boom!
Kansas - Killian, Come Back to Me
Snow Drifts - Oh Now That’s Much Better
There’s No Place Like Home - So Are You
You know what the issue is with this world? Everyone wants a magical solution to their problem, and everyone refuses to believe in magic.
today I burned my tongue on a piece of pizza and I think that it’s a very strong metaphor that sometimes the things you love most in life will hurt you.
a/n: this is for i-know-how-you-kiss as she helps me dig my way out of my writer’s block
prompt: cs + cold
The apartment was quiet when she got home, far too quiet for an average afternoon in the Swan-Jones household. Usually she came home to Henry battling some sort of zombie or knight or dragon on his newest video game or him and Killian yelling nonsense at whatever game was on. Some nights, the ones when she would question having a 300 year old pirate move in to her modern home, Killian would have attempted to cook something new and the air would smell acrid and burnt and an innocent smile would greet her by the door.
But tonight there was no sound whatsoever. Henry was with Regina tonight, it was Roland’s birthday and the foursome had insisted on a private family dinner. She’d grinned, pressing a kiss to her son’s head and warning him against too much cake.
“Killian?” She dropped her coat off in the closet, noting that both his long leather and the shorter pea coat were still in their place beside hers. Shucking off her boots she saw his own by the door (his days as a lieutenant leaking in to the cleanliness of their home) and frowned. “Killian!” She heard a groan from the living room and her hand hovered over her hip, ready to unclip her gun.
Silent footsteps padded along the worn wooden floors until she peered around the corner and relaxed. “Hey.” He was laid out on the couch with her favorite fuzzy blanket wrapped securely around his entire body. “Did you fall asleep?”
Heavy eyelids blinked until his blue eyes, appearing hazy and confused, trailed up her form and landed on her face. “Swan?” His deep voice croaked and she melted a little. “Love, don’t come near me. I’m afraid death is coming and I couldn’t bear the thought of ailing you as well.”
Emma snorted, ignoring his grunt of protest and sitting on the little space he’d left on the cushions. “Are you sick?” She pressed a hand against his forehead, lines creasing over her forehead when she felt out hot is skin was. “Oh my god, Killian! You’re burning up!”
He nuzzled his face further into the pillow and tried to pull the blanket over his face. “I told you I’m dying. Leave a man with his dignity and- ”
“His dignity and a big, fluffy blanket?” He scowled up at her, the last remnant of his fearsome days at sea, and it took every ounce of self-control not to grin down at him. “You do know we have medicine for stuff like this, don’t you?”