this-too-too-sullied-flesh:

omg “behind these hazel eyes” by kelly clarkson

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Dear Swan–

Your last letter left much to be desired. Tell me, what did you hope to accomplish in breaking this poor sailor’s heart? Details, Swan. I need details. What, exactly, were you wearing when “that rude jerk” spilled a beer on your head? What kind of beer? If it was American beer, I’ll risk going AWOL just to travel to the colonies and kick his arse for you, though I suspect you did your own kicking.

I’ll leave this letter short like your last. There, how do you like that? I need a nice, long letter in your chicken scratch for next time, then you’ll get one in kind. I think I’ve gotten far too used to your rambling and cannot possibly defend Mother England with any sort of true patriotism without your insipid American slang to keep me going.

-Your favorite seaman,
Lt. Killian Jones

Dear Swan–

Love, I hope I didn’t offend and I only ask that you belay my last. I was merely joking! I thought we’d written each other often enough that you’d understand my humor, but since it’s been months since I’ve received any word, I have to ask if my poor sense of what is both funny and acceptable has lost me a truly delightful friend such as you. 

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losttalongthewayy:

breathe

cs future family — ღ —
CaptainCharming II CaptainCobra — “I broke down crying in your Grandfather’s arms the night my daughter was born…” — or, you
know, the night the wee babies are born and how these guys handled the whole
thing. 

(slightly)angsty fluff? 🙂

This is obviously never in a million years happening in canon, but I’m still craving already all the Daddy!Killian/Grandpa!Killian
fluff, so here’s THIS anyway! I very selfishly needed it! 😀 Flashbacks are in
Italics. 

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    Killian
wishes he knew the exact way or words to help the lad. He knows in his heart
that everything is going to turn out fine regardless, but he still wishes Henry knew this as
well.

And
he knows, oh Killian knows rationally
Henry probably knows everything’s going to be okay already, but Killian also knows, from his own experience,
that right this second, rationality isn’t exactly first on Henry’s mind.

So
he waits it out. Killian doesn’t exactly want to approach Henry with his
unsolicited opinion, but he still knows the two of them are bound to exchange
some words at some point this day anyway.

Killian
knows it’s not the right time yet though. The lad is seemingly trying to appear so
tough and in control of the whole situation and Killian respects that.

Killian
has to commend him for it even; he’s doing a much more believable job than Killian
ever did once upon a time when he was in Henry’s shoes.

Needlessly
to say, Killian Jones can’t be prouder of his lad right now.

— ღ   —

He’s losing it.

He’s shaking and he feels as though
someone has a very tight grip on his heart right now. He feels sweaty
and tingly —as though he’s being suffocated from the inside out. He tries to
force himself to breathe but it comes out shallow and rapid. He shudders; eyes
squeezing against the tears he doesn’t wish to cry.

His chest almost hurts and he wants— he
doesn’t know what he wants —he just needs to do something, but he’s useless.
All evening he’s done nothing but watch and it’s —it’s too bloody much for him
to handle.

Killian turns facing a wall, his palm flat
on the cool surface steadying him. He doesn’t trust his legs to hold him up so
he leans heavily onto the wall, his forehead touching its surface. He breathes,
harshly and unsteady, he wants to scream really —cry perhaps too, out of
frustration and—

“Breathe,” a voice calls, and Killian
hears it muffled by the sound of his very own heart pounding in his ears.
“Breathe,”

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captain-swan-coffee:

Here is chapter 3 of my Royal Pains fic! Another day another problem in the Swan-Jones household. I hope you like it! Read chapter 1 and 2!

Rated M

Read more of my work here on Ao3 and FF! More to come next week:) There will for sure be one more chapter to this story! Let me know if you want me to continue.

Emma and Killian have been living together for over a year now. Once you cohabitate with someone for an extended amount of time, you start to learn their routine and even create a new one together. For them, every night they would watch a show on Netflix in bed before enviably having sex or bare minimum a goodnight kiss. But for the last two weeks their habits have changed, and some have stopped all together.

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unfolded73:

Captain Swan, Snowing, Captain Charming and Captain Snow broTPs, rated G, 2400 words

Let’s just all face the fact now that I’m gonna be posting this kind of happy beginnings garbage marshmallow fluff for the next several months. Sorry not sorry. Warning for a lot of discussion of babies.

---

He found David in the barn, grooming one of the two horses that he’d recently obtained. After so long in their cramped loft in town, the Charmings were certainly making the most of owning a farm on several acres of land at the edge of Storybrooke.

“I told you,” David said.

Killian raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“That you’d get bored with the girl talk eventually.”

“I’ll have you know,” Killian said, picking up a second grooming brush and holding his hand out for the horse in the adjacent stall to sniff, “that when I left, the ladies were discussing the best kind of magical bolt for taking down a foe at twenty paces.”

“Ah.”

Satisfied that Snow’s horse, Bluebird, recognized him, he gently rested the flat of his hook on the horse’s back and began to brush her flank. “Admittedly, there was also a protracted discussion of menstruation.”

“Uh huh, like I said.”

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phiralovesloki:

Summary: Emma Swan has worked hard to escape her troubled past and start a brand new life. But with that brand new life now involving a new fiancé, there’s something in her old hometown that she has to go back for: a divorce.

Rating: T

Notes: Sweet Home Alabamda AU commissioned by and written for @mishasbabyminion​. Thanks to @lifeinahole27​, @optomisticgirl​, @brooke-to-broch​, @caprelloidea​, and @swankkat​ for beta-reading, assistance, and support. Updated on Thursdays.

AO3/Current Chapter
Tumblr: 1 – 2 – 3 – 4 – 5 – 6 – 7 – 8 – 9 – 10 – 11 – 12 – 13

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The Jones’ house was right where Emma had left it all those years ago, down by the seashore, a half-mile’s walk from her parents’ house. She and Killian had worn a pathway between the two houses as young children, and when they’d gotten a little older, they’d gotten help from Dad and Killian’s brother Liam to clear the path better and even build a little official bridge over a small creek.

Emma felt strange taking the path. It felt fraught with meaning, like she was coming home to him or something. In reality, she just really didn’t want to drive the Bug during daylight hours, so everyone and their mother could gossip over the fact that Emma Jones née Nolan was back in town after running away for ten years, and she was seen driving over to her estranged husband’s house, probably to ruin his life even more.

So if Killian wanted to read too much into her method of travel, so be it. That was his problem.

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kat2609:

(X)

The minute I saw this image a fic idea popped into my head – but in true me form it took 2 weeks to actually come together into anything. Unbeta’d and about 1100 words of fluff. Post CS wedding with a side of Captain Charming feels.

A Picture Tells a Thousand Words

For close to three hundred years, the memories of Killian Jones had been curated solely by the power of his mind. Highly reliable, of course, with impressive attention to detail – as he frequently reminded Henry when he shared tales of his past life with the young author.

(And he had yet to find the lad’s eye-rolling any reason not to continue.)

With such a power of recall, there seemed little chance any of the intimate details of the day he married Emma Swan would slip into the shadowed recesses, no matter how many dark curses or damned fairies were thrown at them.  

Yet he found himself drawn again and again to the simple black frame that hung on the wall of their living room, a moment of utter bliss captured perfectly in the curve of their lips and the light in their eyes as they danced together for the first time as husband and wife. He had known many a treasure over his long years on the sea, but none of those would ever be more valuable than this image, he thought, lovingly tracing a finger along the contours of Emma’s face.

“You are going to wear a track in the glass, Killian, if you don’t stop doing that.”

Emma’s arms snaked around his waist, her chin coming to rest on his shoulder. Though he couldn’t see her face, he had no doubt of the smile she was wearing – yet another image firmly locked in place without need of a photograph.

“Of all the magic I have ever come across,”  he said, turning in her arms until their foreheads came to rest together, “I think these photographs are the most powerful of all. A single moment preserved in time and yet it tells so much more of the tale.”

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this-too-too-sullied-flesh:

“bei mir bist du schon” by the andrews sisters (listen to it and you’ll see why i picked this scenario)

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“Emma, are you sure about this?”

Emma smiled, keeping her lips closed lest she screw up her lipstick. She reached for her teacup, blowing across the rim and watching the steam dissipate with her breath.

“David, I’ll be fine. It’s an assignment like any other, right?”

“I suppose.” David shifted his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable with both the scenario and the civilian togs he was forced to wear. “It’s just…”

“I know. It’s dangerous, but this is our best shot at,” and she dropped her voice for the last word, “infiltrating.” David joined her in lowering his head; neither wished to be overheard. Meeting in public was the best way at this stage–Emma was still an unknown on the continent, and Mary Margaret was an excellent document forger; even still, they needed to be careful.

“You’ll find travel papers for the two of you along with some cash and the new cipher,” David murmured, stirring his tea before removing his spoon with a sigh. He sat up and fixed her with watery eyes full of blue concern. “I’ll ask you one last time: are you sure about this?”

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ofshipsandswans:

Inspired by a day-in-the-fic-life of the lovelies @mahstatins and @katie-dubHuge thanks to @swanandapirate for beta-ing ❤

Summary: It’s Robin and Regina’s wedding; Killian is late, Emma’s not happy and Henry likes cake. Enjoy! 

Word count: 2k 

There were a lot of advantages, Emma would argue, to being Regina Mills’ friend.

The lavish dinner parties with the expensive champagne notwithstanding, Emma had come to admire Regina for her determination; building her own empire in a male-dominated world.

Though admittedly, “friend” was a term Emma used in the loosest sense. The two women couldn’t be more different, though they both had a stubborn streak that could rival the best of them.

And then, there was Henry. The main force keeping the Mills and Swan women in each other’s lives but Emma had to admit, there was a sense of comradeship which had developed from a mutual fondness for Henry.

It still didn’t explain why Regina had given Emma the enviable task of bridesmaid.

And that was something none of them saw coming. Regina Mills marrying Robin Locksley, the person she’d swore up and down she wouldn’t be within spitting distance of.

C’est la vie, no?

Robin had proposed, Regina accepted and Emma found herself thrown head first into wedding planning. Seven months, a whirlwind of white dresses, cake tasting, flower arrangements, the hen-do from hell and Emma was ready to fling herself off the window ledge, stiletto heels and all.

Not to toot her own horn, but she had the wedding planned to a T, thank you very much. Regina would’ve had her head otherwise. (There was that one incident with a broken ankle and a missed dress-fitting that no-one wanted a repeat of.)

No, that wasn’t the reason why Emma felt like pulling her hair out.

It was more to do with the fact that tall, dark and absent hadn’t graced the congregation with his presence, leaving Emma floundering last minute and cursing Killian Jones to the moon and back.

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whimsicallyenchantedrose:

Rating: T

Summary:  With the Black Fairy defeated
and the Final Battle won, Emma and Killian are able to focus on the
important things—like their honeymoon.  Thanks to a souvenir from the
latest curse, Killian comes up with a way to give Emma the wedding trip
of their dreams.

Missed the Beginning? (Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

One month later

Killian woke slowly,
stretched, and then turned onto his side to toss an arm over his wife…only his
arm met empty sheets.  Odd.
In the entirety of their marriage, had Emma ever woken before him?  He didn’t think so.

Killian sat up, ran a
ragged hand through his hair and then tossed on a pair of jeans and a blue
shirt.  He couldn’t deny the slight
shiver of alarm that coursed through him.
It was ridiculous, he knew, but after all that had happened to them, all
that had come between them, all the villains who had tried to harm her, he
couldn’t help a spot of unease when his wife was not where he expected her to
be.

As he opened their
bedroom door, the delightful scent of coffee and what he supposed to be
pancakes wafted up to him, and Killian smiled.
The mystery of his wife’s whereabouts was effectively solved.  Emma was not much for preparing meals
normally, but she rather had an affinity for breakfast.

Padding lightly down
the stairs on bare feet, Killian stepped up behind Emma as she slid her spatula
under the final pancake and tossed it on the plate.  He snaked an arm around her bathrobe-clad
waist and buried his nose in the nape of her neck.

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allofthismatters:

Hi so I just had a lot of feelings about how emotionally tired our babies must be after all this nonsense, and thought some angst and hugging after The Final Battle was in order.

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Dazed and buzzing with fresh relief, it feels wrong for the
lot of them to simply part ways for the night. At some point, it’s agreed on that there’s no need to
wake Granny this late at night when the loft has a perfectly good stove, and so
that’s where they all go. Killian holds Emma tightly as they walk, feeling her
exhaustion in the heaviness of her steps—so at odds the radiant peace on
her face.

He wishes he were in such good shape. He feels like he’s holding
hysteria only just at bay.

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