#cs drabbles

[safyresky]

Scrimbly Jacqueline 36/52: tfw you sacrifice yourself to save a pal from experiencing The Horrors™ too early and fucking up the ENTIRE timeline

She's seen the time fracture in action. She knows exactly what it wants to do. And she knows exactly what she needs to do. The moment she sees the fracture zero in on Lucy, she's running. She drops her staff (it disappears before it even hits the ground) and relies on her instincts. Shoves her hands back as the summer sprite glamour falls. The snow jumps up to aid her, but it's not enough, it's not enough, she needs to use her full power set or it'll be too late and Lucy— She grits her teeth. No. No. She's not gonna let that happen. The snow pushes her forward as she reaches up and tears the simple silver bangle with the small hourglass charm off her wrist, tossing it down into the snow behind her. The second glamour drops. Her powers are at her full disposal once again and she is flying across the battlefield, piercing blue eyes set on the large, dark, fragment hovering dangerously above Lucy. She'll make it, but only just. "Wait!" "What are you doing?!?" "J—Winnie! Winnie, STOP." She ignores every single warning. Mel, Jack, and her Lucy fall on deaf ears as she closes the gap between the splintered piece of time and pre-Horrors Lucy. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch," she says, and springs off her pile of snow like a diver jumping the high dive, arms out, crashing right into Lucy as the fracture hits her right in the back. It's breathtaking. Literally. She can't breath. Pain blossoms. In sharp succession. Onetwothree (all THREE?? REALLY? FOR FUCK'S SAKE, she thinks) shink-shink-shink and she is bleeding, she is bleeding so so bad but Lucy is tucked up against her and is safe, she's in one piece and she is there and she is okay. They fall to the floor with a thud, rolling for a moment. She grabs the snow, stopping herself, letting Lucy go. The redhead rolls once more before managing to stop herself and sit up on her knees, watching with horror as 'Winnie' pushes herself up. A puddle of blood is quickly spreading around her, and in the distance, Mel and the other Lucy are panicking, frazzled, wands out and at the ready as they rush across the field towards them. Blood seeps between her fingers. She coughs; a dribble of red creeps out the corner of her mouth. She moves her right hand away from her chest, blood glistening against her pale palm. She winces. Her left hand is still holding her stomach tightly, glowing a light blue now. There is a sharp cracking sound as ice blossoms across her stomach, a feeble attempt to stop the bleeding. Lucy can't help but let out a sharp gasp. She looks up at her, then; a sharp, piercing blue gaze, concern lining her features. She coughs; blood splatters. "Are you okay, Luce?" Lucy doesn't say anything. She is transfixed, staring at the blue eyes, the very very familiar blue eyes. She thinks back to that familiar warm presence, acutely felt as she sought to help Jack. The warm presence that had returned every time she was near older Lucy's friend. "Jacqueline?!"

I think this is number 3?? Of 5?? Of the @kscribbs suggestions! This one is delightfully angsty. I've mentioned before about how I bug her about a "The Forgiven" AU that involves ML Lucy and Jacqueline time travelling and nonsense ensuing? Yeah! This is where this is from 🤭🤭🤭

Quick Facts:

Mel knows from the get-go who Jacqueline is. Lucy, as well, but that's because she doesn't really need to disguise herself the way Jacqueline does!

The pair of them pop into this timeline to take care of a time fracture that escaped from their timeline, and immediately get their asses handed to them bc it was stronger than either of them expected—the question is, why?

They go to Mel after that immediate defeat and stay with her while they figure things out

They both have a glamour to appear younger; the little bangle I describe? FT gives it to them to help with said glamour and make their powers seem not as advanced as they are, since they're trying to appear the same age as Forgiven!Lucy

Jacqueline has a second glamour she wove into her staff to make her appear more summer spritey than winter spritey. Since she's dead in this universe, she disguises herself as a summer sprite and goes by Winnie (short for Winifred, she claims, and definitely NOT Winter which is definitely NOT her middle name because she's definitely NOT a very alive and well Jacqueline from another universe) for reasons. Which I have. But am too sleepy today to elaborate on, lol.

Forgiven!Jack and Lucy are sus but Jacqueline is okay at keeping her true identity on the DL, probably bc Lucy and Mel are a HUGE help with that bc let's be real, Jacqueline ain't SLICK

They drag her to the Springs and then CS General after this. She is a terrible patient and her non-existence causes problems in CSG and so does she

But she'll be okay! :)

Forgiven!Lucy finds out who she is after THAT stunt; Jacqueline asks her not to tell Jack while she's bleeding out so, y'know, given the whole bleeding out thing, Lucy agrees (for now)

Jack finds out a few days later after Jacqueline does more dumb shit bc post hospital visit, she gets fed up and misses her wife and kids (that's milf jacquie babes!) and is like I WILL GO FIND THE SPLINTER MYSELF and learns VERY VIOLENTLY why the splinter is so much more powerful than they expected!

Ends up on Jack's couch with a magic shortage and it all goes down then >:)

hmm...I think I'll leave you with that!

Will I ever fully write this thing? I don't know! It's fun to theorize and entertain K with, and this drabble sure was fun, but my GOD her writing is so fucking GOOD I don't think I could match the gorgeous style at all! Please read Miller's Law if you get the chance, it's so so SO GOOD! And The Forgiven, which is an alternate ending to the Jacqueline Dies AU! Which you can find Part 1 of, Blood Upon the Snow, HERE and Part 2: Ghosts of the Past, HERE.

(Like the titles? I've been trying to name that sucker for AGES. Still not totally sold on Part 2's title, but for now it works :)

Design wise, I bugged K for what she thought ML!Lucy would look like at this point as well as Forgiven!Lucy, and she showed me some lovely little doodles and I based them off of those! I really like oldML!Lucy's design a LOT! Look how cool her hair is!

Perspectives and proportions are all off but! A) this is a SCRIMBLY! I'm not supposed to THINK about that sorta stuff! That was the POINT to them! And B) I'm only just starting to refine doodles and it's baby steps! Practise makes perfect!

Colours wise, I am going to fistfight the purples I used for older Luce bc they looked lighter based on the caps and the test lines and when I used them? YEAH. NO. WAY DARKER! IT'S TWO DIFFERENT SHADES AND YOU CAN'T EVEN TELL!!! One day, I'll have a full set of the alcohol based markers I like and THEN I won't HAVE that problem, IN THEORY! AH. And Mel's SHIRT is too YELLOW! GRAHHHHHHHH.

Right. So. This is the FIRST September scrimble! One more and I am caught up to where I should be next week! And I PROMISE the next two are gonna be so cute and fluffy and silly I SWEAR!

[soov]

( 🧾 . . . 五条悟 )　　satoru is a silly boy.

despite being the strongest, he still runs to your arms, wailing, when suguru literally slaps some sense into him. even owning inhumanly powerful abilities, he gets sad whenever he watches a sappy romcom, thinking that the couple is just like you two. satoru has the world’s fate in his palms; nevertheless, he enjoys talking about how he hopes to someday live in a nice house with you, away from any curses and sorcery.

he wants everyone to see him as the mighty, super duper cool gojo satoru, except you. he likes being just your satoru, your angel, pretty boy, and whatever dumb nicknames you come up with.

gojo doesn’t mind it when shoko removes her cigarette from her lips just to tease him for being too clingy with you. nah, he’s way past that — too busy cuddling you and focusing on the selfies you took on your new cellphone (it even had a 26-lettered keyboard!). 

the snow-haired teen feels comforted as you treat him as just a guy, the playful fame he wants turning into old hags wanting to abuse his abilities as a sorcerer. he doesn’t even know what the hell is inside of him to make him so different from everyone, why are they pestering?

the only thing he’s sure of is how much he loves you, suguru and shoko. his underclassmen are pretty cute too… great pranking targets. knowing that is enough for satoru, and at the end of the day, it’s nice being just your silly boy.

⠀ ⠀ SOOV © 2O24

[onsunnyside]

So I stumbled over this and I just... Can you imagine cam daddy!Ari and shy!reader, coaxing her to do a stream with him, just so he can show off those big hands? Reader would be doing him such a big favour, her face won't be in it, he'll just touch her a little, "That's fine, right, bunny? Can you do this favour for me, I promise I'll be gentle..." (he adds "at first" quietly to himself because MMMPH he'd go wild for her eventually)

this is going in the fic 😵‍💫 what if I just… post the masterlist so all the asks are easy to find 🌚 totally not bc the fic is coming soon

it's the first time you're on camera, but you aren't showing your face. Just dressed in a cozy sweater and fuzzy socks, biting on the hem of your sweater to hold it up and "show everyone your pretty cunt, baby." You watch yourself through the screen, you can't read the comments without your glasses so Ari does it for you: "they're talking about how cute you sound, how small you are compared to me... someone asked if I have to force myself into your little hole."

"H-He does..." You manage, whining when he pushes away your hand to rub your swollen nub, his fingers slowly thrusting into you, "he sometimes goes slow, but I-I like it when it hurts."

"She cries when it's just the tip—it's 'cause I tease her." His beard brushes your cheek, his lips pressing soft kisses along your tear-stained skin, "she's just my little baby, my sweet dummy. Crying when daddy won't fuck you, rubbing your face all over my cock when you're needy," he laughs at a comment, "yeah, yeah, she gets real dumb. Can't even remember her own name."

He curls his fingers and hits that spot, and you cry out, your sweater dropping from your mouth. You almost fall over right there, but his other arm keeps you up and pinned against his bare chest.

"No, you won't see her like that tonight. This is just a test run, seeing if she likes it." He talks as if you aren't there, trembling on his fingers and making the most pathetic sounds. He lifts your sweater and places it between your teeth again, giving the viewers that filthy view of your drippy pussy, "and you like it, baby? You like all these people watching you cum all over daddy's fingers?"

[diorleclerc]

𝐠𝐲𝐦 - 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫

started this almost a year ago and never finished it oops 😔 dedicated to @thatsdemko bc of all our carlos thots 😌

warnings - oral (male receiving)

every time you join carlos while he worked out in your home gym, you always ended up getting distracted by him and you never get your own workout done.

you were doing your stretches when you heard his grunts. you looked up to see carlos sitting at the machine, working on his arms, with his legs spread.

you can’t help but stare and it doesn’t take him long to notice your gaze.

“see something you like?” he smirks, stopping for a moment, letting his hands fall to his thighs.

“maybe,” you tease, your eyes following the movement of his hands. “you wanna come here and tell me what’s got your attention?” carlos motions you over with his finger.

you climb onto his lap, straddling his thighs while your arms wrap around his neck.

“so what’s got you so distracted, hm?” he teases, his hands finding their place on your hips.

“just couldn’t help but admire,” you start, letting your finger trail down his chest. “yeah? admire what?” he smirks.

“how good your arms look in this shirt… and your thighs in these shorts…” you say, slipping your hand underneath his shirt to trace his abs.

you end up on your knees between his legs, pulling his shorts down just enough to take his cock out.

his hands tangle in your hair as you kiss his tip, your tongue swirling around it. you slowly start to take him into your mouth, your hand wrapped around what you couldn’t fit.

“that’s it honey, keep going. you can take a bit more,” he urges, pushing your head down a little.

you feel his tip hit the back of your throat as you try to take more of him into your mouth. you look up to see his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut.

“so good, princesa. you’re doing so good. taking me so well,” he praises.

he holds your head in place and starts to fuck your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat every time he thrusted up.

it doesn’t take much longer before carlos is cumming down your throat. you swallow everything he has to give you before releasing him from your mouth.

a string of spit connects your lips to his cock as his cock slips from your mouth. his thumb wipes it before he slips it into your mouth, letting you suck on his thumb.

“so pretty,” he mutters, pulling you up from the ground.

“now let’s head to the bedroom so i can take care of you, hm?”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 4 Rewatch Drabbles: 4x2 White Out

(Gif not mine. I couldn't find who to attribute it to. If you're the creator, let me know, and I'll credit you.)

Summary:  A series of 100-1000 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 4 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 662

Other Chapters: (1) (3) (4)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Emma had stopped shivering.  Surely that was a bad sign.  People who were dying of hypothermia stopped shivering, didn’t they? That, combined with the fact that the desire to go to sleep was overwhelming should have sent alarm bells going off in her head.

But she just didn’t even have the energy to care.  She watched dispassionately as Elsa found her magic and began to slowly open a hole in the wall.  

And then there they were, her father and her…well, whatever Killian was to her.  Her father looked concerned, of course, but Killian, Killian looked frantic, devastated, like his whole world was about to crumble.  He all but climbed into the ice wall himself to get to her.

A sudden warmth kindled inside her at the sight of him.  When had anyone, anyone ever looked at her like that?  Like she was their whole world?  Like losing her was the most terrifying thing he could even imagine?

And so, as soon as she was out, as soon as she was free, as soon as she was in his arms, she hugged him back, as fiercely as her depleted, frozen strength would allow.  

“You okay?” he murmured into her hair.

She nodded, too weak to voice a word.

Words had never been her strength anyway, so she used her actions instead. She cupped the back of his head–the same way her dad always did when he hugged her–pouring out all the reassurance and comfort she could muster.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killan’s heart gradually slowed to a normal rhythm.  She was here, alive, in his arms, hugging him and nodding in answer to his questions.  He felt the tears prickle the back of his eyes.

He’d been so afraid, so bloody terrified that he’d lost another woman he loved, and this time, he was sure he’d perish with her.  He couldn’t lose her; couldn’t.  It would more than devastate him. It would destroy him.

Her strength gave out and she sagged against him. In one quick swoop, he picked her up, one arm supporting her upper body and the other under her knees.  She was free from immediate danger, but she was still perilously cold.  He must get her to warmth, to safety.

And so he did.  He carried her to her father’s vessel, held her as Charming drove through the streets of Storybrooke, warm air pouring from the vents of the vehicle.  He carried her up to the loft, held her hand as her father and Elsa brought her a blanket, wrapped his arm around her..

When she laid her head on his shoulder and laced her fingers with his, he knew she’d accepted his comfort, knew she needed him as much as he needed her.

As her parents, her son and Elsa gradually went about their business, she turned to him.  “Hey,” she said.

“Hello, yourself,” he responded with a gentle smile, wrapping his arm around her again, and gently rubbing her shoulder.

“Thanks for saving me,” she said simply.

His smile grew more tender, and he planted a gentle kiss against her temple.  “It was Elsa who did that, love, and I suppose your father as well, as he was the one to talk her through it.”

“But you tried, you wanted to,” she countered.

“Aye,” he said.  “Always.”

Emma smiled up at him, raising a still weak and frigid hand to cup his cheek. She said nothing more for long moments, but he could see it all in her eyes. 

I’d save you too.  I care about you too.  I don’t know what I’d do without you either. It means everything to me that you’re here.

One day she’d say the words aloud, but for now, it was enough.  For now, she was safe and in his arms, and he was never letting her go again.

When she quietly, almost hesitantly asked him to stay with her that night, he didn’t even hesitate.

There was nowhere in the world he’d rather be.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[nova2kss]

Give me like 2 days yall🤭

[satinechristian]

drabble challenge - 39

“What color do you like better?” Satine knows that Christian is the absolute last person to ask this question to.

His dubious recollection of whether or not her eyes were green or blue leads her to believe that his grasp on color may not be the best.

She holds up a red slip dress, this one falls about midthigh and the middle is a light red mesh overlay, and the other is a dark navy one with a deep deep back. She likes the red against her complexion, it’s been a staple color in her wardrobe since she realized how good it looks on her. But she likes the feel of her long hair brushing against her bare back when she’s out in public, and the blue goes with her blue eyes.

“They both look good,” he says, proving her earlier thought of him being the last person to ask this to.

“But which one do you like better?” She asks, as that had been her question. She knew they both looked good and both looked good on her, that’s why she owned them.

“That one,” he points at the navy one. “You like your hair against your back.”

She grins at that, stupidly and without being able to help it. It always catches her off guard when he calls out specific details about her like that. No one else ever has. Unless you count them needling her weaknesses. “And?”

“And,” he reaches over, his hand pressed against the small of her back. “I like holding my hand here when you wear it.”

She rewards him with a kiss. She will love him forever, even if he’s hopeless about color.

[astrodances]

Olympics prompt

So I may end up regretting this, taking a long time, or maybe not even following through (fair warning XD), but I like learning about different Olympic sports, so, in an effort to do so, I thought of a prompt idea:

give me a character (or two) [for a fandom I know] + an Olympic sport, and I'll try to draw or write something for it! 😄⚽️🏊🏃🥇

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Scary Movies (CaptainSwan drabble)

requested by @totallyradioactive15

"A scary movie?" Killian asked.

"Yup." Emma said.

"We're intentionally seeking out something to watch tonight- for entertainment purposes- that's going to scare us? I don't see the appeal."

"Well, we could watch something else," Emma smiled, "but there's just something about watching a scary movie," she trailed her fingers along his arm, "something about being scared that just makes you want to cling to someone," she wrapped her arms around his arm, "and just wrap yourself up in their arms."

"Hmm," Killian smiled, tucking his arm around Emma. He kissed her forehead, then whispered, "I'll go make the popcorn."

(a/n and tags under the cut)

a/n: I hope you guys enjoyed reading this little drabble! I'll be posting the other fic that was requested in this ask as well, so stay tuned!

taglist: @zahara@kmomof4@jonesfandomfanatic@booksteaandtoomuchtv@jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @silver-the-phoenix @pawshapedheart @captainswanholidayspecialreruns [if you’d like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

🍂 fall drabble prompts

[f1tasies]

Good luck sex (before a race)

Charles:

One hundred percent. He is in desperate need of an outlet to relieve stress. Too much pent up tension and he WILL spiral. One way for him to focus is either to get you off, or make you get him off (Charles never learns that he can't make you do anything. You do everything of your own volition). Quickies in his room, you jerking him off under the table during a particularly boring briefing, him fingering you as you run simulations... Almost getting caught is half the fun. You're pretty sure the entire garage knows by now but the let you do it just cause it gets Charles in the zone, and now they can't deny their golden boy, il predistinato, anything, can they?

Pierre:

For him, sex is a hobby. You have to put in time and effort if you want it to mean anything. He looks at sex with you as the reward (or punishment, depending how it goes. Regardless, you aren't complaining). When he fucks you, he wants to do it right, so quickies are not his thing. Sometimes, if he's really feeling it, you'll spend the entire night before a race weekend experimenting, fulfilling his deepest darkest desires, but mostly, you get no d on the race weekend. After the race though, you better believe he's on his knees, hands tied behind his back as he services you with his tongue. You grab his hair and push him down on you, letting him work his magic.

George:

Ooh... This is a tricky man, because he never needs encouragement or external motivation before a race. If you want him, you have to seduce him, trick him into thinking it was his idea... And well, everyone likes to be chased, don't they? George thrives on praise, on your validation... If you know exactly what buttons to press, he might even miss the first few minutes of a practice session (because he was too busy doing you.)

Lewis:

The idea of good luck sex has always been appealing to him, but you've tried it out a few times and it doesn't work particularly well for him. It puts him out of focus, because why would he focus on driving when he can replay how soft your thighs feel, how sweet your lips taste, how desperate he can make you with just a touch. When he seduces you, he wants to do it the right way. Even if it's a quickie. (Especially if it's a quickie). While your sex life is never dull throughout the weekend, and he won't say no to a quick oral session (both giving and receiving), the main event happens on a weekday in a different country, where he's planned an entire day for just the two of you. (And maybe Roscoe and Angela)

Carlos:

He's very chill, for a chili but he does have an insane sex drive, and while it isn't always before a race, when it hits him it hits him. You can tell from the glint in his eye you're in for a good time. Sex isn't over until both of you finish, so while the foreplay can be a bit rushed, he makes sure you're well prepped, either by your own slick or the handy dandy lube he carries in his kit (You're surprised how his trainer still doesn't know). He likes it rough, he likes to take complete control, but he hates it when you give it to him. He wants to earn it- so sometimes he'll let you Dom him a bit before wrestling control from right under you (he isn't always successful, you're very good.) The reason you can't sneak around anymore is because your sex is always too loud- whether it's the sound of his balls hitting your skin, his grunts, your moans, or a combination of everything the two of you like is up for debate. His trailer is the only place you can do it without people knowing, but with the way Lando looks at you, you're going to have to find another way...

Seb:

Don't let his recent wholesome persona fool you, he's still a bastard when he wants to be. He's a big fan of edging- so that means you're always on the brink of collapse the whole weekend. Whenever he has a free moment, he'll come by, and make your life a living hell. He's invested in one of those long-range Bluetooth vibrators, so whenever he wants to, he can torture you. It's difficult balancing your job as a journalist, especially when you have to interview the other drivers and your beloved bastard of a boyfriend decides to make even walking unbearable, but it's all worth it. Because when the chase is on, Seb has less time to focus on what he couldn't achieve in his career. During his redbull days, when you were just friends with benefits, it was easy. You'd pull him into a broom cupboard and he'd fuck your brains out. But once he got to Ferrari, and the frustrations began, he just couldn't take it out on you. So you suggested the game. And he smirked at you and questioned if you'd really be able to do it. You never shy from a challenge now, do you?

Mick:

Hey, he's a gentleman through and through, but sometimes, he reminds you that yes, he is a Schumacher, a legacy of hard and fast and dirty. Mick's always been one for privacy, growing up famous, but that means he knows the perfect spots to get down and dirty. He's in love with your lips, especially when you take his dick. So pre-race sex? Of course. He's got decent stamina, which means it takes you quite a bit to get him off, but don't worry. He's a man of his word, and when the weekend is over, he's putty in your hands. He'll do everything you say. (You've even asked to peg him, and he said yes without hesitation.)

Daniel:

Redbull Daniel? Oh he's drowning in pussy 24/7, but when the season is over, he's all yours. You've opened up your relationship because you can't travel around the world with him despite how much you want to, and well, both of you have needs that sometimes can't be satisfied with your fingers. While he isn't there to fuck you every race day, he does send you material. Sometimes audios of him wishing you were there, wishing it was your pussy instead of his flesh light, it was you he was watching online, not a random girl. But sometimes, you get videos, of him in nightclubs, grinding on a girl (you've had the occasional boy, too); of him in a hotel room, making sweet sweet love to a girl who has the same hair as you; of him going down on a woman who was clearly going nuts with the things he did to her. Did it make you jealous? That was an understatement. But it helps knowing that he's always thinking of you, and seeing the shock on the girls' faces when he calls out your name when he cums is definitely hilarious. You always check to make sure the videos are consensual, and sometimes, you send him a little something of yourself too. When he's back in town for your home race, there's an entire week devoted to your body. Not even his sacred car is spared.

[safyresky]

I completely forgor about the June Prompts, sorry! I'm gonna go with Midsummer pls ☀️

Oh don't worry at all! I was thinking of writing a thing for this one, but brain went head empty, no thoughts, only Aunt Summer soooooo here! Have a scrimbly Summer:

She's chillin, straight up VIBIN. She's halfway through her shift and she's treating herself to a mini-vacay. Hey, today's the Summer Solstice--did y'all know that?!?! Happy ding Dang BIRTHDAY Aunt Summer! Ouuu CS denizens are PARTYING TONIGHT!!

okokok this became more than a scrimble so some design/art notes:

So this isn't TOTALLY her final design but it's CLOSE! She's got a really long braided ponytail that she usually sets on fire--so I tried to mimic a sunshine doodle with her hair colours! Putting some orange in the yellow corona-y bit would've probably worked better

that is a very tiny waist. I WILL IMPROVE IT WILL BE LESS TINY

Summer is VERY BUFF. I did my best at BUFF. Which is not very good as I'm still TRYING MY DARNDEST! AH!

I made her scrunchie a mini sunshine 🤭🤭

I was originally gonna make the surfboard have colours reminding her of her sisters but then I didn't do that. the middle stripe is a more orangey colour but alas! i don't have a good place to take photos so...yeAH

the hang loose hand is deffs one of my top 3 hands ever drawn, hands down lol

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

#20 "isn't that my flannel?" for Captain Swan please, if you're up for it? :)

Isn't That My Flannel?

AO3

Summary: A ficlet about chilly mornings and borrowed coats.

This prompt is from the Fall Drabble Prompts List.

Tagging others who might enjoy: @anmylica, @deckerstarblanche, @elfiola, @goforlaunchcee, @jrob64, @kmomof4, @pirateswhore, @stahlop, @teamhook, @tiganasummertree, @undercaffinatednightmare, @xarandomdreamx, @zaharadessert

Most of the clothing available in this realm left much to be desired after a lifetime of wearing the lightest linens, finest silks, and softest velvet a pirate could pilfer under the incomparable comfort of a well-worn leather duster but whatever made up this hideous coat that Killian lifted from Emma's car this morning was a surprising luxury. 

As he walked through the town on this brisk morning, thick with fog, the cosy warmth of something this lightweight had become a bit of a marvel. His duster weighed about the same as a half barrel of rum and seemed stiff in comparison. It almost made up for the brightly striped pattern with pockets set such that the pattern clashed with the rest of the coat. Perhaps he could find one in black or a deep blue. 

Breathing in the salty air and listening to the lap of water against the docked boats settled things in Killian he hadn’t known were unmoored. That feeling of belonging, of home, was exponentially multiplied when he caught sight of the gorgeous woman he was fortunate enough to call his wife. 

Emma narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at him as he approached, his boots heavy on the dock. Something flashed in her eyes for a moment, but she tucked it away before he could place it. She’d tell him when she was ready, she always did. 

"Hi, love," Killian greeted and held up the warm, spiced lattes to her. She smiled in appreciation before taking a sip from her cup. 

“You look,” she paused, a smile tugging at her lips, “cosy.”

“I stole it from your vessel, Swan,” Killian said defensively, but a blush crept over his cheeks. He knew this brightly coloured monstrosity was not his most flattering attire but surely it wasn’t so awful as to warrant her jesting. 

“Mmmhmm.” Emma returned to her drink as they fell into step, walking along the docks as the sun rose over the water in brilliant shades of reds and orange. 

“What was the emergency this morning?” Killian asked.

“The alarm at the school went off. We checked it out. Nothing was missing or damaged.” Emma shrugged. “It’s probably some kids getting ready for their class prank.” 

“Hmm, clever kids to get in without causing additional destruction.” 

Emma cut her eyes at him. “Do you think that I don’t know Henry can pick a lock? That you taught him?” 

“I am certain that I have no idea what you are talking about, love.” Killian smiled proudly, contradicting the innocence that laced his words. 

“Of course not,” Emma muttered. 

“As it happens, I do know Henry is innocent of this particular crime.”

“I know. Henry is getting the sheep.” 

“He told you?” 

“No. Dad did. Can you believe Henry asked him if he could borrow his sheep to fill the freshmen classrooms?” 

“Actually, I can,” Killian laughed, shaking his head. Sometimes it was difficult to imagine that Henry was the child of thieves and the step-child of a legendary pirate. “Granny should have her first batch of pastries baked by now. Let’s eat before you go back to the station.” 

“Ooh, yes.” Emma licked her lips at the thought of the fresh bear claw she was about to inhale. 

When they walked into Granny’s, David was already at the counter getting his morning takeaway before heading to the station himself. He turned when they walked in, smiling at them. But his smile faded into an expression somewhere between bewilderment and confusion, “Killian, isn’t that my flannel?” 

For the second time that morning, Killian felt his face heat as his cheeks burned red

-----------------------

@killianjonesz THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS ASK, LOVE!! I really hope it makes you smile. Let me know what you thought and feel free to ask for more. I don't know why this prompt SCREAMED silly at me, but it did.

[owl127]

You’re probably so over the prompts about 3Cs but god you have a golden story here, I can’t stop thinking about it literally every day, imagining what could happen you know ? I’m a big fan of your work but this one is addicting, can’t wait to read more about this one, I’m looking forward anything, any prompt, any CRUMB

Anya was the luckiest woman alive.

She kissed Raven’s giggles as she tossed her wonder woman mask away, finding the girl’s mouth in a fit of laughter of her own. Raven sighed contently and made more room for them in the passenger seat. The 20-year-old Malibu groaned, but held firm as she spread her legs on top of Anya. Raven was always blabbing about how soon the car would be vintage, the old grandma holding firm for two generations of Reyes. That seat had seen its fair share of college kids making out on top of it, and Anya didn’t mind adding a few miles tonight.

As the windows fogged and pants grew unnecessary, Anya was ready to invite Raven back to her apartment, but a loud noise outside made them stop.

“If anyone hit grandma, I swear to God…” Raven said as she rolled the window down, the music from the Halloween party they had abandoned filtering inside.

“Lexa, wait!”

Anya was so ready to ignore whatever commotion was going on, but Clarke’s voice broke her away from Raven’s neck.

“Griffin?” Raven asked, but Clarke ignored the girls in the car as she ran past it.

“Clarke, let that shrimp go.” Another voice joined Clarke’s, and Anya peeked out the window.

She saw Lexa’s bee antenna stomping away, and Clarke was trying to follow in her cumbersome honey jar costume, but another woman stopped her. “Come on, Clarke, stay. I’m sure she’s fine.”

Anya growled when she saw Nia, the party host and also the host of one of the greatest sticks up her ass. Everyone on the lacrosse team hated Nia. She was on the team because of nepotism alone (her aunt dated their coach) and she made everyone’s life miserable with her lack of talent and many opinions.

She threw a mean party, though.

“Let’s go back.” Nia reached for Clarke’s arm, but Clarke shook it away.

“Everything alright, Griffin?” Raven opened the door, face steeled. She was the meanest pirate Anya had ever seen, with the fake parrot dangling from her shoulder adding to the character.

“Everything good, ladies?” Anya followed Raven outside without missing a beat, crossing her arms and glaring at Nia. Both Clarke and Nia seemed surprised at the couple leaving the parked car, though while Clarke showed relief at the sight of her friend, Nia bared her teeth in annoyance.

“Woods. Great to see you,” Nia said with the delicacy of a hammer. “Your sister just stormed out of here.”

“Clarke, do you need a ride?” Raven asked Clarke, ignoring the dick measuring competition going on between the two alphas.

Clarke sniffled, a tear falling on the rumpled card box that was her honey jar, and Raven helped her friend inside the car.

“I’ll drive her home.” Raven fished her keys from Anya’s back pocket — who knows how it ended there — and kissed her cheek.

“I’ll go after Lexa with my bike,” Anya said, returning the kiss.

Give it to Lexa to cockblock her sister.

Spotting the shaking bee was easy, but convincing Lexa to go back to Anya’s apartment took some time. Lexa finally relented under the frosty rain, her bee antenna squashed under Anya’s spare helmet as they drove away.

“I’m fine,” Lexa said between trembling teeth, though she sighed in relief when she held the steaming mug Anya placed in front of her. Her red, hard fingers thawed under the warmth, and so did her rage.

Anya eyed her sister, noticing the running makeup, the red nose, the stained bee costume. It wasn't always that Lexa looked like a mess, but that night was one of those days.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Anya asked, pouring honey into her own mug.

Lexa took the tiniest tea sip.

Anya would hate this so much less if making Lexa talk about her feelings wasn’t like pulling overgrown wisdom teeth. “Why did you storm out?” Anya probed, searching for an angle. “And why is Clarke upset?”

“She’s upset?”

Bingo.

Lexa’s red eyes widened, but then she frowned.

Anya checked Raven’s texts since they parted:

Raven Babe 00:37am

Griffin is crying.

I think they fought. Ask Lexa.

We stopped to get chocolate and honey. Her costume is surprisingly effective.

“Raven is with her now,” Anya said, flipping her phone face down on the table before Lexa could peek. “So, are you still drunk or?”

“Ugh,” Lexa said intelligently, lowering her forehead to the table. “Do I sound drunk?”

“You sound miserable.” Anya sat next to her sister, touching her shoulder and squeezing it. “So what? You had an argument while a little tipsy. That’s normal, Lex. Apologize to Clarke in the morning and it will all be good.”

Lexa lifted her head from the table, her eyebrows knit. She looked like a bee who had been expelled from the hive and left to die in the wilderness if that bee was also a little drunk. “I don’t want to apologize.”

A simmering kind of emotion bubbled in Anya’s stomach, and she recognized it as anger.

“What did Griffin do?” Her tone didn’t betray the surge in protectiveness for her younger sister.

Lexa’s head hit the tabletop again with a muted thud.

“Maybe I’m just overreacting,” she mumbled to the abused wood that had never seen a single coaster.

Anya breathed through her curiosity, giving her sister time to process her thoughts. Lexa had always been slow to make her opinions heard, but alcohol made it like walking through molasses.

Anya waited, as some big sisters were known to do. The good ones, at least.

“She laughed at me,” Lexa said, her voice as small as she looked. “Nia was talking shit about the team, as usual, but then she said things about me and Clarke—” there was that knot between her eyes again “—Clarke just laughed.”

“I’m sorry,” Anya said, the frown on her forehead the same as the one on Lexa’s. “But maybe she didn’t mean it that way?”

Lexa nodded solemnly, processing the idea in her inebriated brain.

“Clarke adores you, Lexa. Did she apologize?”

Pink blossomed over Lexa’s cheeks.

“Is that when you stormed out?” Anya asked, one eyebrow up.

Lexa nodded, but shameful consolation replaced her serious posture.

“Sleep it off,” Anya said, standing up. “It will make more sense in the morning.”

Lexa took an hour showering and used all the hot water. Anya would be mad about it another time, though she will hold against her sister the whole cockblocking thing. Anya had been looking forward to fuck Raven in her wonder woman costume.

Anya let Lexa sleep on the mattress that was usually under her bed, a little wet clump of teen hormones on the floor of her bedroom. She pretended not to, but saw the text exchange between her sister and her girlfriend, and sighed with a heavy sense of completion as Lexa drifted off to sleep.

Another night of being the best big sister ever.

Lexa 2:15am

I'm not mad

Clarke, I love you.

Clarke 2:15am

I love you too.

[diorleclerc]

argument that turns into sex ft. Carlos

i finally had some time to go through and work on some old requests :))

you don’t even remember what the stupid argument was about now that you’re bent over the counter.

you can feel the bruises forming on your hips from carlos’ grip. he’s pounding into you while you try to grip onto the marble counter.

one of his hands moves up to your mouth, sliding two fingers in to muffle your moans.

even with his fingers in your mouth, you can’t help letting moans slip out with how hard he’s fucking you.

his fingers leave your mouth to wrap around your throat, tilting your head back so he could kiss you.

“are you close, princess?”

he knows the answer. of course you are. but he wants to hear you say it.

“come on, tell me what you want, darling.”

“tell me what you need and i’ll give it to you.”

when you don’t answer him, his thrusts slow and his fingers leave your clit, making you whine in frustration.

“wanna cum. need you to make me cum,” you whimper. “good girl,” he tells you before resuming his thrusts, bringing his fingers back to your clit.

his lips connect with yours as you cum, moaning loudly into his mouth.

his movements start getting sloppy and you know he’s close too. you clench around him, making him curse under his breath as his grip on your hips tighten.

you feel him pull out and look back to see him stroke himself before his cum covers your back.

you shiver as his finger drags up your skin, collecting the cum on your back. he brings his hand up to your mouth, letting you suck on his cum covered fingers before he kisses you softly.

“always making a mess but never cleaning it up,” you mutter. “hey, that’s not true. i always clean you up,” he says, grabbing a towel to wipe you clean.

“can’t say the same about the trash,” you remind him of why you were arguing in the first place.

“if the arguments are gonna lead to this every time, i might just stop taking the trash out now,” carlos jokes.

[nocentis]

Sown Fresh to Bloom┆ X793

╳ ┆A beautiful dawn. Its fingers splayed over the horizon in brilliant golden streaks, flexing heavenward in decorous praise. Their warmth graced his face; cupped his cheeks with the airiness of a lover's caress and tilted his chin toward infinity. A gentle so overindulgent and undeserved.

Still, he felt the spread of his own fingers in time with the sun's stretch. A vigor reignited from skin to soul. He felt victory and defeat in equal measures. Love and life at last, free to take, and yet he'd never felt less qualified to seize either.

Familiar steps approached. He need not turn to know. She was the only one who might seek him out now, as the rest were well on their way. He watched them embark just before new light, smiling fond, waving kind, yet he could only see past as they walked toward future.

“When will you be leaving?”

Meredy chuffed, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, like she wasn't expecting his ask. “Is that your way of telling me the guild’s disbanded?”

“No,” he answered honest, “Everyone is leaving. I just assumed...“

"Right. You assumed," she chastised, never shy. “Where will I go?” She mused, stabbing forth, “I have no village to return to. Few other friends, and none more important than you. I’ve got nowhere to be but by your side. Why would I leave now?”

“You've grown. Any legitimate guild would be lucky to have you. You don’t need me anymore.”

“Maybe I never did,” she posited simply.

“Maybe so,” he returned evenly.

Her hand curled around his shoulder, light enough that he could pull away and yet present enough for comfort. “You’re my family. What’s left of it, anyway.”

“Family?” He repeated, testing it on his own tongue. It was honey-tart. Sweet dressing to an open wound.

“Like an Uncle,” she clarified with a half-shrug. She smirked, nearly teasing, “A young one, of course. But you’re all I have left in terms of kin.”

So simple. So light. So free. Her voice was airy and unburdened despite how much she'd lost. In that way, he envied her. She made peace with her transgressions, made proper sense of them, and moved to become someone radiant and inspiring. Whatever was left of her hurt was buried; deeply personal and harshly constrained. Perhaps he wanted that for himself — to become a beacon for those harboring remorse or regret and to lead them to peace.

The horizon blurred into something grey and sallow. His own voice sounded foreign when he droned, “And that means you’ll stay?”

Meredy’s light-hearted demeanor dropped. She sighed, combed a hand through her bangs, and took a seat in the grass beside him. Rather than answer his, admittedly, redundant question, she issued one of her own. “Aren’t you happy for the Seis? They’ve finally been awarded their due freedom. They can do what they truly want now.”

“Of course I’m happy for them. Beyond happy. I’m elated,” he answered in truth. "I only wish it could've happened sooner."

“But there’s something else, too,” she gathered. “There’s always something else with you.”

“You’re right." His gaze dropped to his worrisome hands, diligently rubbing themselves raw. In comparison to the blownout blur, they almost looked too real. "It has nothing to do with the Seis though, I'm afraid."

“So, what is it?" She prodded, insistent. "What plagues you?”

“I’m not sure how to describe it," he admitted. "Guilt, perhaps."

“May I?” It was more of a suggestion than a question. Her finger flared a soft pink as she pointed between his wrist and her own. “Maybe I can give it a name. That ought to help. At least a little.” At his blatant hesitation, she coaxed, “Come on. You said it yourself. I’m grown. There’s nothing you could be feeling that I haven’t felt myself.”

“Alright,” he conceded, though he remained less than thrilled.

She closed her eyes, released a stalled breath, and their wrists came alight with shared rosy charms. Her impatience was a fading whisper, quickly replaced by a mix of curiosity and concentration, and then his own hesitation echoed back to him twofold.

“You don’t have to say anything," she coached, nothing but patience in her instruction, "Just... think.”

Just think. Right, then. He could do that, couldn't he? It was one of the things he did ceaselessly, second only to breathing.

Meredy's concern was latent, flowing into him unbidden. More dominant than that was concentration—no, determination. Her focus on sorting him out indirectly fueled his own internal redirection, gently nudging him back into his own head from whence he came.

It felt entirely too open, though he probably should have expected as much. He made her worry, and vulnerability was the unfortunate consequence. He shouldn't have been so presumptuous, assuming she would leave simply because the Seis were ready to move onto bigger and better. He knew better than that. She wasn't so fickle as to spring such a lofty switch on him without first discussing it at length.

His insecurity was eating at him again. What he deserved was hardly his reality. He knew that to be true, though on occasion, he allowed that thing in his chest to paint the scene a ghastly pallor; a delusion of death owed.

But true justice wouldn't award him death. It would have him live all of their lives in succession. It would have him live their pain, their futility, their trust and betrayal and their earth-shattering moment of clarity, an endless loop of agony for naught, and then—then it would spit him out at their feet and have him beg for their mercy.

His life should be in their hands, and yet, because of the strength he coveted under the influence of the damned, because of the strength he cultivated in his selfish desire to preserve the ones he so loves, he still held a power he wasn't so sure he'd earned. A power that kept him almost untouchable.

His own magic was a cruel irony. A reminder of the standard he could never embody so long as he breathed and evermore. For all the Heavens he'd drawn from, he was himself the false-prophet, undeserving of the stars' forgiveness. Undeserving of peace. Of light. Of love.

And yet it followed him still.

“This isn't guilt. It's shame,” Meredy chimed in.

“That’s… warranted.”

“To an extent." Her hand rose to her chest, idly rubbing circles just beneath her collarbone. Her face twisted in despair, and he could feel his own sorrow amplified and echoed back to him through their link. Meredy's voice wavered when she argued, “This is exorbitant. It should be debilitating.”

"Break the link," he suggested. Tears brimmed her eyes as her nails sunk into her shoulder, yet he could feel her reluctance to let go; to leave him alone with it. "Please, Meredy."

Despite her obvious hesitation, she honored his request, rubbing her wrist where they were only just connected. There was pity in her eyes, so much of it that it was sickening. Her words came out wet, strangled, like she was still choking back the tears he wasn't willing to shed, "Is that really how you feel all the time?"

"No," he attempted to ease her concern, but it was utterly unconvincing. "There are moments of joy, and pride, and hope."

"What about peace? Calm? Silence?"

He opened his mouth only to close it again.

"Why haven't you..." she stopped herself and started over like she already knew the answer to her initial question, "Do you think it's doing you any good, holding onto this?"

"I don't know how to live without it," he confessed. "It's my burden to carry. I cannot forget. I cannot separate myself from what I've done."

Her face pinched, somewhere between anger and upset. For the first time in a long while, she seemed disappointed in him. "You're not carrying it. You're letting it consume you."

"I don't want that."

"What do you want?" She bawked, voice riding the line between irritation and incredulity. "From life, from yourself, from anything?"

"I want to help others," he answered immediately, no rumination required. "I want to find others like me, like us, and lead them to light."

"How can you do that if you can't find it yourself?"

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Season 3 Rewatch Drabbles: 3x10 The New Neverland

(gif by just-be-magnificent.tumblr.com)

Summary:  A series of 100-500 word drabbles to accompany my    rewatch of season 3 of Once Upon a Time.  There will be a drabble–either a deleted scene, a “fix it” fic or a character musing for each episode of the season.  Focus will be on Emma, Henry, the Charmings and Killian–with an emphasis on Captain Swan’s epic love story.

Word Count: 736

Other Chapters: (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) (17) (18) (19) (20) (21) (22) (23) (24) (25) (26) (27) (28)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Killian sat brooding on his bar stool at Granny’s diner nursing a mug of beer.  As he watched Emma converse with her lad, his heart sank.  He loved her, wanted her more than he’d wanted any woman in centuries.  He wanted to be with her, be the man she came home to at the end of the evening, the man she confided in, loved, gazed at adoringly, the man she allowed in her life and in her bed.

But more than anything, he wanted to see her happy.  They understood each other, that was true enough.  Though the circumstances couldn’t have been more different, their lives were similar in a heartbreaking way.  Like him, she’d seen too much pain, too much hurt, too much fighting just to survive.  He deserved the fate he had, but she didn’t.  She deserved everything, every happiness life had to offer.

Even if it wasn’t with him.

He’d had hopes when they were in Neverland that he could be a part of that happy future with her–especially after the earth-shattering kiss they’d shared.  He’d been quite serious about pursuing her, courting her, winning her heart honestly and with no trickery.

But it had all been a beautiful but unattainable dream–as odd as it was to have one of those on a land seemingly built on nightmares.

He’d seen that clearly as soon as the Roger had touched down upon the waters of Storybrooke and his passengers had disembarked.  He hadn’t expected a ceremony in his honor, effusive speeches of gratitude.  He hadn’t even really expected thanks, but he had hoped for…something.  Some acknowledgement, some camaraderie, some, any, sense of belonging in the group of triumphant heroes.

For a split second, he thought he’d get it.  The lady Snow had spoken of someone they needed to give credit, someone they needed to thank, and his heart had lept, thinking it was he of whom she spoke.

But he should have known better.  It was Regina who was the focus of her gratitude.

No, Killian could see it clearly at that moment.  Pan had been right.  He was, and would ever be in their eyes, nothing but a pirate, a villain, someone with whom they could make temporary alliances when the situation called for it, but someone to never truly trust or allow within their inner circle.

He couldn’t blame them, truly.  He’d spent centuries committing the vilest of acts in pursuit of his revenge.  There was far too much in his ledger that he could never wipe out.  Swan deserved someone worthy of her.  Henry deserved a better father figure.

Whether or not Neal fit the bill, he didn’t know.  Swan hadn’t given him details of how Baelfire had hurt her, but it was clear he had, deeply so.  Perhaps the wound would prove to be too deep to overcome, but Killian had to give the lad the opportunity to try.  He owed him that much at least.  He would not be the cause of another family breaking apart.

Maybe a miracle would happen.  Maybe in the end, Swan would choose him, but in the meantime, Killian knew what he had to do.  He had to back off for the sake of the boy–both the boy Baelfire had once been, the one Killian had betrayed, and Swan’s own lad.

Aye, perhaps a miracle would happen, but Killian didn’t trust to hope.  He’d long since lost the right to wish for miracles.

Note:  Grrr!  If there’s one thing (other than Neal just being…well…NEAL) that makes me crazy about 3x10, it’s the fact that the heroes just seem to dismiss Killian.  Look at what he did for them: He went back to Neverland, the place he’d spent centuries of the worst years of his life.  He chose to bury the hatchet and work with his sworn enemy.  He’d offered his ship and his services for as long as they needed them, and in exchange?  In exchange they took it all for granted, not even thanking him, barely even acknowledging his presence.  They’ll give Regina credit for the role she played in saving Henry, but they won’t even acknowledge the far greater role Killian played, and it just makes me both sad and angry for him.  Thus this fic.  We know Killian suffers from a good deal of self-loathing.  This is what I assume led to his decision to back off when it comes to Emma.

NEXT CHAPTER->