just a little baby bit because i love when killian is happy
There is a morning not long after his return to Storybrooke when
Killian realizes upon waking that he has never felt so wholly content in all of
his years alive. The realization floats from his heart to his mind and spreads
warmly through his bones, gently coaxing him from his dreams and dropping him
comfortably back into his bed.
He slowly becomes aware of the other body pressed against his own,
his hand finding a smaller, softer one curled against the bare skin of his
chest. Hair is tickling his nose but he doesn’t mind all that much, not when it
surrounds him with the familiar scent of coconut and vanilla that he had come
to miss so much during his time away.
His time away, that’s
what he has taken to calling it in his head. Oddly enough, being dead and then
returning once more to the land of the living is not all that simple of a
transition, and it’s easier for him to cope with if he just imagines that he
had spent his time exploring a different realm. That’s what the Underworld is,
really, just another realm – no different from Wonderland or the Enchanted
Forest. Or here. Home.
Gods, how happy he is to be home.
Emma unconsciously shifts beside him and presses her nose to
his neck, her breath warm on the hollow of his throat as she begins to stir.
She is always like this in the morning, restless as consciousness grasps at her,
and it never ceases to make him smile. He is unsure if he will ever get tired
of the way she insists on sprawling across the entire bed, even if it means
nearly suffocating him in the process.
He feels her nose scrunch against him, and suddenly she’s
reaching back to pull the covers over her head and burrow deeper into his
embrace, groaning as a sliver of light from the window reaches her eyes. “How
long,” Her voice is rough with sleep and he feels her swallow, laughing quietly
to himself as she attempts to string together a coherent sentence despite her
barely-conscious state. “How long have—no. What time is it?”
Killian runs his hand from the crown of her head all the way
down to the base of her spine and back up again before replying. “Mm, I’m not
sure, darling. It’s early yet.”
“You’re just saying that,” She whispers sleepily, seeking
out his hand with her own before finding it and weaving her fingers through
his, “Because you think I don’t sleep enough. And you want me close.”
CS: No one told them how to share a heart, but they figured it out.
A/N: Captain Swan comfort and fluff with Captain Charming friendship because I needed this.
The first time she gave him her heart, it wasn’t as literal as going to the Underworld for him. It was an acknowledgement that she would love him always and that she wanted his love for just as long.
The second time is far more literal. They ask Regina to do it, the one with the most experience ripping out hearts and Emma’s protection, the one that kept Cora from ripping it out so many years ago, allows her. Emma gasps as Regina plunges a hand into her chest, tightening around her heart, and Emma chokes shakily when Regina rips it out.
Briefly, she relishes in the lack of emotion, the pain and weight of love disappearing.
She looks at Henry, so young to have seen so much, her first true love, who stares at her with wide eyes, attempting to mask his fear. He knows that his grandparents survived from it, but it’s one thing to know that something happened a while ago and another to watch it play out in front of him. Especially when it’s her.
She doesn’t feel anything but an echo of the tenderness and love she usually felt.
She looks at her parents, they watch her with hope and love so intense that she her stare lingers. The idea that she could fail or die isn’t an option in their minds, but maybe they just know better than anyone else the power of true love.
Oliver and Felicity are married and they are spies. Except they don’t know it! Oliver and his team (Saraaaaaa and Tommy) are out on some mission and they run into an oddly familiar hacker and the wisecracking muscle who helps her. It’s a standoff, until some tech glitch happens and she escapes.
The hacker is Felicity who recognizes her husband because 1) she is not dumb, she has seen you naked, Oliver, and 2) even if it had been dark, that little thing where he rubs his fingertips together—she knows how he moves. To be fair: she knew all of the real stuff about him—where he grew up, his favorite color, all of his passwords—she just never knew what he did for a living. (“I’ll level with you,” she says, later. “Whenever I hear the term ’CEO,’ I get so bored I just kind of stop listening.”)
SO. Obviously there are some problems, but they discover and unite in order to take down a common enemy: Malcolm Merlyn, who is a threat to every single agency.
“You know, everything about you just became incredibly clear,” Felicity says.
“I cannot believe the two of you,” Diggle interjects. He still has Oliver in a chokehold. “I did not sign up for this. Felicity, you should just have let me kill him.”
“Relax,” she says. “Now that I know what I’m looking for, I can find his records and see what he’s been up to. I probably could have sooner,” she admits, earnest as always. Oliver is a little gratified to discover that that isn’t an act. “Before I was even entitled to half of your worldly goods. But you were so cute, and so terrible at remembering the answers to you own online banking account, I just didn’t think there was much there.”
Meanwhile, Oliver’s team thinks this is hilarious:
“I always knew your wife was too good for you, Ollie,” Sara says. “Now we just have proof.”
“She’s been lying to me this entire time!”
“Uh,” Tommy says. “Pretty sure you don’t have the moral high ground on this one.”
“I can’t believe I brought my actual family to our wedding,” Oliver says.
“It’s kind of cute,” Felicity says, leaning past him to flip a breaker. “I mean, it’s dumb, but I’m flattered. My parents are…as good as dead, I just hired an actor to give me away.”
“I thought I’d seen your mom on Lifetime!”
“I cannot even believe that you watch that channel,” Felicity says. “Like, how is that one of the things that isn’t part of your cover?”
“What do you mean, you’re not a field agent,” Oliver says, breaking one of their good plates and using the shards as the worst throwing knives in the history of projectile weapons.
“Computers! I’m good with computers!” She ducks a return volley and wedges herself behind him.
“Oliver, this is the same thing I’ve been saying for years, you never focus on the point of the argument! Years of you missing the point!” She ducks out from behind him and throws a drinking glass across the room; it hits one of the snipers across the hands. Oliver is pretty sure it breaks the guy’s finger.
First there is cold, and he has to help move the body.
Emma left it with Rumpelstiltskin when she went to confront the witch, but then three hours pass and there is still no sign of the Dark One. He hasn’t been seen in town, has made no effort to contact Belle – so, while the others continue to scour Storybrooke for any trace of Zelena, Killian and David go out to the woods to search.
Bae is lying where Emma left him; on his back, still and cold and white. If Killian were feeling poetic, he might have said that the man looks like he is sleeping.
But he is not feeling poetic and Baelfire is not asleep.
title: what does home look like? (I’ve only seen shadows of it in my dreams) category: arrow genre: family/romance ship: felicity/oliver chapter rating: pg-13/teen overall rating: nc-17/explicit prompt: ooh ooh felicity as lance’s step-daughter, growing up with laurel and sara, in love with oliver! - anonymous word count: 6,903 summary: (au) For most of her life, Felicity Smoak grew up with her father in Coast City, only visiting her mother Dinah and the Lance family in the summers. But when her father drops her off for an unexpected visit and doesn’t come back, Felicity is forced to figure out what ‘family’ really means. And, in the meantime, falling in love with the local billionaire can’t hurt, right?
“What do you mean a date?” Quentin wondered grumpily, frowning as he sat on the couch, a beer balanced on one knee and the TV remote in his other hand. He’d muted it when she walked out in a dress that Sara had helped her pick out specifically for the occasion. It was white with a floral print that she was sure Kelsey would’ve gone off about for days. In fact, her best friend would probably go on about cut and fit and how the little brown belt in the middle made her figure pop, and blah blah blah. All Felicity knew was that she felt pretty and Sara gave her a double thumbs-up. So, her outfit was a big fat go.
Fiddling with the cuff of her jean jacket while she sat on the arm of the couch, she said, “His name’s Oliver. We met at a coffee shop a few days ago.”
“And he asked you out on a date?” Quentin shook his head, his thick, dark brows hiked. “Isn’t there some kind of protocol to that? Shouldn’t he ask me first?”
Felicity smiled, glancing at a snorting Sara, who was sitting sideways on the armchair, her legs dangling over the arm.
With a lighthearted roll of her eyes, Felicity turned back to her step-dad. “He didn't propose. We’re just going out to a movie…”
Lieutenant Duckling AU. In a world where soul mates do exist and are marked with the same tattoo, a boy with a hook on his wrist falls for a girl with a beating heart on her chest.
(Just your typical soul mate au, except it’s different this time.
Rated M for sexy times (though more awkward first time smut but still) and oh, a little almost 6,000 words, hope you don’t mind - long author’s note at the end.)
It is said that back when the gods created the humans they had four arms, four legs and one head with two faces.
They were strong, so strong that the gods feared their power and decided to weaken them by splitting them in half.
They succeeded and the humans were left behind, incomplete, not really knowing what they were missing for quite some time, always searching for their other half.
They were miserable and unhappy and one of the gods finally had pity with them, forming a unique mark on their bodies that would eventually lead them to their other half.
To their soul mate.
To grow up as the child of the soul mate couple was a burden and a relief at the same time. It meant that she was never one of those people who doubted if there even was such a thing as soul mates. But it also meant that everyone was expecting her to find her own soul mate just as spectacularly as her parents had found each other.
A charity ball, a punch in the jaw, the discovery of the blood red apple mark on her mother’s shoulder and the happily ever after of the simple working class man David Nolan and well-liked billionaire’s daughter Mary Margaret Blanchard had been set in stone.
And indeed their daughter Emma Ruth Nolan found her soul mate about a year after she was born (or, to be more exact, her soul mate found her).
His name was Graham Humbert and he was Storybrooke’s sheriff, an honest, nice man in his early twenties and one of David’s best friends.
Of course the huge age-gap between the new-born and the sheriff led to countless discussions in the small town but it was a known phenomenon that people had to wait for the birth of their soul mates and that it could take an entire life time for the perfect match to be born. It was a paradox but it was far from unheard of.
Emma grew up knowing that Graham was the one she was meant to be with, the man who had the same small heart tattoo (a real heart, not one of the drawn ones, no, it was an anatomical correct one, red and beating and it was actually really pretty) on his chest. She grew up, knowing that Graham was her soul mate.
But when she was fifteen the sheriff was had a heart attack that sadly led to his death. She hadn’t been in love with him then but he had been her friend (soul mate thing aside) and his loss hurt incredibly. Emma knew that once one soul mate died the other was bound never to find love again.
She never thought someone else could fall in love with her (or that she could fall in love with someone else, that was impossible, her soul mate was gone and there was no one else for her), so for her it was more than easy for her to become friends with guys. It was uncomplicated, there were no feelings involved and she didn’t need to worry about anything.
That was why, when she met Killian Jones she didn’t understand - or rather, didn’t want to understand (because she understood all too well, knowing that it shouldn’t be like this) - why her palms became sweaty or her heart beat quickened its pace or why her knees grew weak.
He was only her best friend, not her soul mate, she couldn’t be in love with him.
so like, i know we broke up and stuff but funny story, i haven’t told my family yet and they just assumed you’d be coming with me for my parent’s anniversary celebration and i really don’t know how to tell them and i know this is really selfish but i can’t break my mother’s heart like that (more like father’s really), they’ll probably have a heart attack- and wait what? you’d do that for me? holy shit, i love you…wait-
I’d like to thank my beta @blessed-but-distressed for everything she’s done and it has been more than just beta’ing. This story wouldn’t have been this if it weren’t for her!
Also thank to @captainodonoghue for thisamazing and lovely gifset she’s made which really does capture this fic so brilliantly <3 (go look at it and send her some love!)
Rating - M
Emma got out of the pool, wrapping herself in a thin robe she’d borrowed from Ruby. Killian was no longer with the group of guys she’d seen him with before, but they pointed her in the direction he had disappeared, towards the front of the house.
She followed, her heart beating rapidly and her palms sweating. She wasn’t going to tell him she still loved him or anything, that would be too much. But she was definitely going to ask if they could at the very least talk. She needed answers, and she needed them now. Why had he agreed to come and help her? Why had he kissed her? And perhaps most importantly of all, why he done that in the shower today?
She found him standing out on the front lawn, his phone up to his ear. Emma tip-toed nearer, not wanting to startle or disturb him while he was probably taking a work call. She could wait a little longer.
Only as she’d gotten closer, his words became clearer.
“Honey,” she heard him say, his voice low and pleading.
Honey? Killian never used Honey as an endearment. He had always been rather liberal with his use of Love, or Darling, from the barista who made his morning coffee, to the FedEx woman who delivered his packages. For Emma alone he’d sprinkle in the occasional My love, or even Sweetheart, but never Honey.
“I promise, it’s just for a week,” he said. “We can see each other then. You know I have this work thing right now. Once that’s done my time is yours, Katie.”
ok first of all you guys mean so so much to me, literally all of you are so sweet, like I can’t describe how much you guys mean to me (: like thank you for putting up with my ramblings and my music shit and liking my bad selfies and putting up with my love for a certain man with the first name of bryan… like why do I even have this many followers????
I probably forgot soooo many people, I love each and every one of my followers/people I follow!
allthepretenders: MADDAH I’VE MISSED YOU SO SO MUCH I LITERALLY CRIED WHEN I GOT YOUR MESSAGE IT’S BEEN LIKE TWO YEARS AND TBH I THOUGHT ABOUT OUR GROUP A LOT DURING THOSE YEARS LIKE I MISSED YOU AND GIA AND HANNAH SO MUCH BUT SOMEHOW WE FOUND EACH OTHER AGAIN AND IT’S SO AMAZING AND CRAZY LIKE WOW ILY AND I’M SORRY I HAVEN’T TALKED TO YOU IN A WHILE I’M AWFUL AT RESPONDING LIKE ALWAYS
raanta: okay mel (I’ve literally never called you that before so why am I now????) where to start… you’re like my fave person I’ve met on here, and it’s crazy how we even like figured out who we were (wow that sounds like philosophical or smth) and what’s even crazier is that we haven’t even met yet… BUT WE WILL we will find each other and party hard. okay? okay. love youuuuuu :*
raantastic: VENNI HI we haven’t talked in forever bc I’m shit at conversations :/ but we’ve been on-off talking for soooo long (remember the good ol’ days…) and you’re like one of my fave people ever and yeah we need to start talking again like rn bc ily (:
the ‘I-may-stalk-your-blog-more-than-once-a-week’ faves