#cs prompts

[mediapen]

for anon: carlos, with his life split into two halves. how life feels cut when a major event occurs — before and after — maybe before and after silverstone ‘22?

[x] // richard siken, ‘straw house, straw dog’ // richard siken, ‘unfinished duet’ // [x] // jenefer shute, life-size // [x] // liz bowen, sugarblood // ethel cain, ‘strangers’ // warsan shire, ‘to swim with god' // the smiths, ‘paint a vulgar picture’ // richard siken, ‘saying your names’ // [x] // [x] // [x] // rainer maria rilke in a letter to lou andreas-salomé // phoebe bridgers, ‘garden song’ // [x] // [x] // r/Games // bhanu kapil, the vertical interrogation of strangers // [x] // [x] // [x] // [x] // cota, 2022 // [x] // clementine von radics, 'the fear.’

#carlos sainz jr #web weaving #cs55 #cs #m #i hope... this fills the prompt. #wanted to explore like. fulfilling the highest-stakes dream imaginable which you've worked towards for literally your whole life. ofc theres #a bigger dream still unachieved (wdc) but how do you handle it when the weight of your most realistic achievable dream is lifted #do you try to let it carry you? do you let yourself live in it for a little while? what if there's nowhere to go from here? #... what if you never get to feel like this again? #and THEN you immediately have the. like. most horrendous dnf a string of shit races ANOTHER horrendous dnf a FRUSTRATING dnf... #like how much do you want it now. what even is *it* any more. do you know. do you let yourself ask. #carlos is fascinating to me in ways i cannot will not speak on but i think like. he has an Awareness that he is willing to speak on that #nobody else is. and *i* wont speak on it because its real life but. anyway. #z #sorry for using the titsphoto in my defence. the concept of motorboating exists and we're clear on my feelings on it

[bluejones]

after hours

pairing: steven grant x reader word count: 800 a/n: cs prompt challenge, week 1: “you owe me a kiss” ~ steven gives you a call... | read on AO3 here~

Finally leaning back against the pillows you had been dreaming about all day, you let out a sigh, rearranging the covers and getting as comfortable as you could in bed. You were exhausted but pleased, you'd had a really good day. A great evening...

You wanted to dwell on the night you'd just had, but your phone buzzed on the bedside table. It wasn't that it was particularly late, but you still wondered who would be calling you right now, and more importantly, what would they want?

Your frown was replaced by a grin when you saw the name on the screen, although you still eyed it somewhat suspiciously.

Steven.

"Hello?"

"Hi. Hello. It's me, Steven."

You made an amused sound through your nose, "I know."

"I hope it's not a bother... that I called.. so soon after.."

"It's not. I'm just in bed."

"Oh." A pause. "Well, I wanted to let you know I got home alright. The train ride.. was a while.. no reception for a bit.. didn't want you to think.." He trailed off, seemed uncertain, maybe second guessing calling you at all.

Your own "Oh." was just as surprised as his when he learnt you were in bed, but you didn't let him dwell on it. "Great, no that's great. I guess I’m a little surprised is all, most people just text..."

"Ah, right... I guess, I just didn't want to leave you hanging.. if you were, at all.. hanging.."

That made you laugh into the phone. "I appreciate it. I'm glad you got home okay. I was just thinking about our evening while hopping into bed and getting comfy. How nice it was, how nice you are."

It was either tiredness or leftover giddiness from the night that set you on a path of messing around with him a little. After knowing him a while now, you knew little compliments made him just a tad shy.

There was a pause. "Oh, yeah?"

You answered with an affirming hm.

"I thought it was nice too. I think I'm gonna get into bed.. as well."

You couldn't help but sit up a little straighter in bed.

"Right now?" You asked, your voice was quieter.

His response turned just as quiet. "Yeah."

"Steven?" You heard some rustling on his end of the line.

"Hm?"

"Steven, did you call me so we could have phone sex right now?"

"WHAT?!" Something sounded like it crashed and you realised he may have actually dropped his phone. His voice was slightly muffled as he tried to get a grip on the phone again, or regain some composure. "No, oh my gosh of course not, no..."

An abrupt laugh came out before you could stop it and then you couldn’t contain the fit of laughter. "I'm just teasing, don't worry. I mean it would be okay if you did but..."

He promptly cut you off, and you sighed as you heard a little chuckle coming from him. "That was not my intention at all. Gosh I mean I've never… I’d never assume." That started your giggles again.

"But umm..." he started, but trailed off a little.

"What is it?"

"Well I, that is, it was really lovely being with you tonight and I think maybe, I regret... not kissing you." The last of his sentence came out quickly with the last of his breath, and it shocked you out of any other plans to continue teasing him, knowing he was being completely genuine.

You forced out a reply. "Really?"

"Yeah. I would have liked that."

You let out a small breathy laugh, if not to just fill your stunned silence. "I would have really liked that too, Steven."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. You should have."

"Well I'll... the next time I see you.."

"Yes, I suppose that means you owe me a kiss then." You managed to get out with all of your confidence back, even if it was fake - even if your cheeks were burning.

"I suppose it does." You could hear the smile in his voice, and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

There was a brief silence. a comfortable silence as you both, you hoped, were thinking about it - the potential kiss you could share. You had definitely been thinking of kissing him, had been thinking about it basically every day for weeks now.

"Let me meet up with you tomorrow?" You finally said. Now that it was out in the open, you really didn't want to waste any more time.

"I finish work at 6..."

"Perfect! I'll text you tomorrow, tell you where to meet me... and you can give me that kiss."

"Okay. Okay, great!" He sounded on top of the world and you wanted to silently scream in delight.

"I'm going to try sleep now. Cya tomorrow Steven."

"L-later."

#steven grant x reader #moon knight #steven grant #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #my writing #cs prompt challenge

[shadow-sandiego-shipping]

Daily Prompts - Day 2

The days gone by...

Carmen walked into the living room and saw Shadow-san and the twins looking over a mess of boxes, newspaper clippings, and what seemed like photographs.

"What's going on?" She asks.

Zack, who had been head deep in a cardboard box, perks up at the sound of her voice. "Carmen!" He stumbles a little trying to get up, almost tripping over a bunch of stuff, actually.

"Me and Ivy found a bunch of stuff from our childhood!" He explains.

Right, Carmen remembered Zack and Ivy had gone to Boston for a week.

Lately, Team Red hadn’t been busy at all. For some reason, VILE had been on the down low, and for a while now, the renovations for the Carmen Sandiego Brand Outhouse warehouse had been finished.

So the team had taken a little bit of time off.

Carmen had decided to visit Player in Canada, the twins (homesick) decided to stay in Boston for a week, and Shadow-san (after lots of reassurance) decided it wouldn't hurt to make a small trip to Japan.

Zack made his way over to Carmen, holding a bunch of photographs.

"Look! It's Ivy when we were little! Wasn't she a dork!?" He said between giggles and snorts, showing Carmen a picture with a little girl with freckles using what looked like an oversized mechanic outfit and holding a wrench way too big for her little hands. Muck covering her face and clothes.

"Aww, she looks cute in this." Carmen takes the pile of pictures from Zacks hands, skimming through the rest.

On the couch, Ivy, who had been showing Shadow-san an old album piped up. "Yeah, right! Come over'ere Zack let's see who's the real dork!"

Zack's laughs turned nervous instead of amused. "Aha~... Don't be mad, sis, you hear Carmen, she called you cute!"

Before the bickering can continue, Carmen covers her mouth to help disguise a loud snort.

"Oh no, what pictures did you give her, bro?" Ivy asks despite not making much of an effort to leave the couch. She even restarted her conversation with Shadow-san right away after scolding her brother.

"I, uh... what's you looking at, Carm?" Zack tries to look at what made Carmen lose her composure.

She gladly flips a picture of two little Boston ginger kids; dressed as funky little aliens, with plastic bags on their heads covered with cardboard circles poorly painted in blue and green and black hairbands with two sticks and a white pompom on top glued in each; green boas and fisherman boots, and lots of lipstick painted circles on their faces. In each of their little hands, a Red Sox knock-off bag, well... a bakery paper bag with the Red Sox logo painted in red lipstick.

"That must’ve been a fun Halloween." Carmen teased. Zack stared at the picture, mouth agape, and eyes equally as wide. His expression looked so goofy, Carmen couldn’t help laughing out loud at it.

At least, until Zack started tearing up.

Immediately, she stopped laughing and started apologizing instead.

"Zack, I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun." He shakes his head.

"That's not it, Carm. It's not your fault."

With the change in atmosphere Ivy’s chat with Shadow-san is put on hold, and Ivy makes her way to Zack.

"Bro? What's wrong?" She asks, concerned.

He looks at her with teary eyes. "This was the last Halloween we spent with mom and dad Ives..." He shows her the picture.

"Oh, Zack..." They hug.

Wanting to give the twins some space, Carmen goes to sit on the couch, next to Shadow-san.

"I think this was my favourite Halloween of all time..." Zack muttered after a bit, looking at the photo.

"What!? That Halloween was awful!" Ivy complained, separating from the hug. "Our costumes sucked and we barely got any candy, beside it rained while we were out..." She lists off.

Zack chuckled wetly. "Yeah, but we made the costumes ourselves. It was the most fun I'd ever had, back then. And we even got to use Red Sox bags! Even if they weren't the real thing... and I know we didn't get any candy, but the candy we usually had from our neighbourhood sucked anyway and... really, the only reason I went trick or treating was because I liked doing it with you. And I know it rained, but after the rain, mom and dad helped us clean up, and we got to coudle up in the couch all together and have hot coco and watch my favourite movie of all time!"

Ivy was speechless.

"So yeah... that was my favourite Halloween we ever had." Zack concludes.

Now it was Ivy's turn to tear up. "Yeah... you know what? When you put it like that, I guess that was my favourite Halloween we've ever had, too." They hugged again.

When they separated Ivy's nose was runny so she complained and went to the bathroom to clean up. Zack whipped his face on the sleeve of his shirt and went back to the task of sorting out the boxes.

On the couch, Carmen smiled at the twins. Shadow-san did as well.

He touches Carmen’s arm to get her attention. She looks at the newspaper clippings on his lap.

"Ivy was showing me reports of their accomplishments in the racing field." She notices several news articles talking about a sibling duo taking on the car racing game with their own hands. She smiles fondly.

After a while, she looks back at Shadow-san, who was frowning.

"What's wrong?" She asks him.

He looks at the mess of the room. "Sometimes I wonder how your life would've been if I had never taken you to VILE island..." Oh, oh...

"Shadow-san..."

"I know I can't change the past, but sometimes I can't help but regret you never had this... any of this." He gestures at the pictures. "And it's in great part my fault."

She knew he didn't just mean her childhood or the lack of pictures there of. He meant getting her involved with VILE, being on their hit list, and even the obligation she felt in stopping their affairs. But, in retrospect, she couldn’t imagine her life any other way.

"You're right." She says. "We can't change the past. But for all its worth... I liked my childhood. I know it wasn’t a regular childhood but, up until school, I have only good memories." She puts her hand on his shoulder, in what she hopes is a comforting gesture.

He lets up, sighing, then giving her a shy little smile. "Too bad there are no pictures of it then?" It sounds like a joke, but-

"I would KILL for a picture of Miss Booker wet after one of my pranks!" She says immediately.

It's so out of the blue and so sincere, Shadow-san bursts out laughing, soon being joined by Carmen.

It calls Zack's attention from the reminiscence he was up to, and Ivy’s as soon as she comes back.

"Hey, Zack? What did I miss?" She asked.

"I have no idea..." He replies.

Previous day // Promps Aquired from Write App. // Next day

#carmen sandiego #shadowsan #ivy cs #zack cs #one shot #writing prompt #fluff #slight angst #comfort #family #found family #my writing

[jjunae]

#͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏ ͏͏͏(🎙️) — certified yapologist :3 #HELLLLOOOO LIKE IDKDKKKKKK #i have a couple of ideas but liekekkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk #ermm i might have to check a prompt generator or smth after the poll is done cs i dont wanna dissapoint ykwim guys

[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.

#cl #gr #sv #dr #cs #lh #pg #prompt #drabble #f1 smut #f1 imagines #ms

[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.

#killian jones #captain swan #emma swan #killian x emma #captain hook #once upon a time #cs fanfic #cs ff #ouat #fall drabble prompt list #jas answers asks #asked and answered #fics by Jas #autumn vibes

[naffeclipse]

When you finish the cryptid fic do you have any other AUs or fics planned?

Or any you're kind of considering at the moment?

I'm going to write a MerMay fic that's a spiritual sequel to Deep Dreams involving Sun and Moon!

I do have a few AUs that I haven't talked about yet, but I hesitate to bring them up as I still have a few fics that are currently published that I can/might add more to, like Syzygy in Dedication, but I also don't want to jump into another big writing project so soon after CS. I'm just going to focus on the MerMay fic and see what I'm feeling after that :)

#i do want to get to more of those SJ prompts #I have a little story line in mind for BH!Eclipse as well that would maybe be three parts? #i am also constantly haunted by my canon fic that i need to face one day #so yeah there are many options but thinking about it too much can be overwhelming #so i'm just gonna stick to CS then Song Fish #naff nuh huh

[capricioussun]

Underfell Papyrus with the prompt "Can’t stop shaking," please

Hope you feel better soon ^^ 💜

This one got away from me a bit so I'm sorry if it's a little janky but also ty ;; 🩵

Ao3

CW, sick fic, sick character's pov, hospital stuff

Prompt list

—

A strange sound filtered in through the darkness. Fuzzy and ticklish, distant in the back of his skull. When it happened again, pain bloomed there, bleeding down his cervical vertebrae to ache through his ribcage.

Feeling began to register as that pain traveled further. Every limb drawn taut like a wooden doll held together with too little string. Tremors held him in a vice grip, unable to think beyond the radiating soreness weighing him down like lead, stifled further by a heavy weight laid atop the length of his body. Not only heavy, but hot, smotheringly so, yet doing nothing to reach the chills shivering up his spine, exacerbating the aches further.

That sound happened again, muffled, but more familiar, a voice. He tried to open his mouth to speak, to question, when that tickling sensation jumped, right to his throat, jolting fully awake with a vicious bout of coughing.

"Oh-!" a large, furry paw smoothed over the top of his head as that sound came again, closer, words, but none clear enough to parse over his own choking. He could hardly open his eyes enough to see the distorted shapes above him, let alone make sense of them.

Something cloth passed across his teeth, and instincts abruptly urged to push his attacker away before they could gag him, but his arms were useless, weak and buried at his sides. As the coughing finally subsided he could hear the stifled rattling of his own bones beneath the thick fabric restricting him.

"It is only me, Papyrus-" still cloudy, but discernible at last, "Toriel. Calm down," her gentle voice finally clicked into alignment with everything else. Toriel, his...friend? His mind grappled for a word or phrase to define what she was to him, but thoughts seemed to jumble together, clinging uselessly to the inside of his skull.

"Do not strain yourself," she soothed again, brushing the side of her paw against his cheekbone. As disoriented as he felt, he could still hear the strain in her steady tone.

Blinking slowly, the stale magic lining his sockets prevented his vision from focusing, but the rest of his unease passed recognizing Toriel's silhouette. When the cloth pressed to his teeth again he made no move to struggle. Not that he could've – he'd become acutely aware he felt awful.

Soon enough, the light pressure disappeared, his eyes fighting exhaustion to squint back open.

"There," she sighed, and then went quiet for a moment. The battle was quickly lost, his eyes drifting back shut, when he heard the floor creak. "I will get you some water." She spoke so softly, not dissimilar to how she spoke to Frisk...it felt disarming to hear it directed at him.

As her steps faded, his own noise became emphasized in the silence. Any white noise of the house settling or Toriel's movements elsewhere went entirely drowned out by every wet, rasping breath drawn, the unrelenting rattling tremble of his bones. Dizzy and nauseous, unable to so much as sit up, dully he remembered what was wrong with him. He was sick.

Very sick.

Without warning, the nausea heightened, coiled below his ribcage and he shuddered, swallowing thickly as much as he could before a sweeping chill wracked him, gasping into another, weaker coughing bout. Even his mind would not cooperate, feeling like his head had been stuffed with static and cotton.

Back underground, pain was simply a facet of life. Being stabbed, broken, bruised and beaten; especially in the guard. Seldom a day went by he returned home plagued only by weariness. But it had always been his brother prone to illness. He could probably count the number of times on one hand he could remember being sick himself, and it had never felt like this. Like his own body trying to exorcise him.

A strange lightheadedness possessed him, whatever few thoughts he could cling to slipping rapidly from his grasp. Only distantly was he aware of Toriel’s return and her attempting to get him to drink, raising his head in a strong, careful grip. He tried to tell her not to, his body was disgustingly soaked in his own sweat, it would matte her fur, surely, but all that came out was a strangled groan as she finally lowered him back to the pillow.

Were it not for lingering common sense, he would've worried his bones were on the verge of rattling apart. His focus had nowhere else to tether as wakefulness loosened from him further, drifting back and forth often enough to keep him miserably aware of his own discomfort, but no more, not enough to *think.

Time lost all meaning between snatches of consciousness, if it could’ve been called that. Every brief moment of awareness lost upon every lapse. He wouldn't remember catching whispers of two voices, one he knows better than any other, tense and worried. Wouldn't remember cringing weakly as he was moved, carried by strong, shaking hands to a cool vehicle, trembling hard enough to whimper at the pain of it. Wouldn't remember strangers’ hands replacing trusted ones, or how they caught him as he convulsed, getting sick on unfamiliar tile floors.

None of that remained, nor the days that followed.

Nothing made sense by the time his mind feebly made its way back to him. A low beeping beside him, the warmth of sunlight on his hands. When he managed to pry his tired eyes open, clean, white, unfamiliar walls greeted him. The bed before him less unknown, a hospital bed, with clinical white sheets outlining his body underneath. Wires that must've been attached to him snaked out from beneath – he couldn't feel them, but he couldn't feel much of anything beyond an overwhelming fatigue.

The air brought into his ribcage with every breath felt oddly cool, eyes drifting closed to focused what little energy he had on recalling what had led him here. Nothing came back before that beeping changed, only once, two staccato chirps seamlessly flowing back into its prior rhythm.

Automatically, he tried to look to the source, neck stiff and unwilling but managing enough to see a screen displaying stats he couldn't make sense of. He was in a hospital, of course, but what would he need to be monitored for? Why-

"rus?"

Turning his head too quickly, he flinched with a sharp inhale, "whoa whoa, take it easy, papyrus, s'just me."

Vision clearing from the unexpected jolt, his brother came into view. Outlined in the early morning, or perhaps late afternoon light filtering in from the window behind him, Sans stood beside his bed, obviously looking worse for wear in spite of the easy grin plastered on his features.

"What-" the dryness of his magic choked him, coughing as Sans fussed, pulling a cup of water off a tray he hadn't noticed with a flick of blue magic to force upon him with a mild scold. The surreality of it made him question if he was actually awake.

Clearing his throat more properly, any questions fell to the wayside as exhaustion frustratingly took hold again. He laid back, half-breathless just from drinking, and watched as Sans moved to set the cup back down by hand, aimlessly picking at the few other items on the tray. It didn't seem he to actually needed to ask, watching Sans deliberately find things to do, carefully avoiding meeting his eyes. The blanket was his next target, returning to the bed to fix it, smoothing it, brow bones fixed in an unusually tight scowl.

He said nothing, perhaps too tired to be annoyed by the prevarication, or perhaps understanding something bad must’ve happened to upset his brother this deeply.

It wasn’t long before the tension cracked with a sigh. Sans stuffed his hands back into his pockets as he stared down at where a wire was surely attached to his brother’s soul under the sheets. What he was really seeing was anyone's guess, but the string was fully cut when Sans took another, deeper breath, clearing his throat and shuffling the few steps back to the chair he must've been sleeping in.

"you uh, you really don't do nothin' halfway, do ya, kid," he breathed a humorless laugh as he slowly lowered into the chair. That single working eyelight drew up to the gaze rested on him, his own weariness now plain as day.

Papyrus held the attention steadily, hoping the slight furrow of his brow bone asked well enough for him. A shadow passed over Sans' expression, gone again in a flicker as he looked away for a moment before returning, but he didn't miss the tightness of his brother's voice as he answered.

"you got sick, papyrus. really sick." His hands fidgeted where they were clasped in his lap, wringing each other sluggishly. "scared the hell outta tori. wouldn' even let the kid visit 'cause she..."

One hand moved to his knee, clearing the shakiness from his voice and making a poor attempt to cover it with a chuckle. "don' matter now. got a little outta hand ‘cause of a secondary infection, but the doc said yer improving real well so it don' matter."

A small measure of sincerity lightened Sans' smile, voice low and calm, "now ya just gotta rest, got it?" He didn't even realize his sockets were sinking shut as he listened.

"just gotta relax, 'rus, i ain't goin' nowhere. s’gunna be alright."

Of course it would, he didn’t say. He didn’t have to. This time, sleep claimed him much more gently.

#overcast moonlight #ty also for the prompt <3💫 #canvas-madness-txc #cs follower fics #underfell #underfell papyrus #underfell toriel #underfell sans #uf edge #uf red #uf toriel #sickfic #cw medical

[silvernyxchariot]

Dating Ghiaccio be like:

S/O: "No. No. You're embarrassing me. Stop. Sit down. *points to La Squadra's table*"

Barista/Cashier: "How do date someone like that? 😓"

S/O: "I love having power over him. Because now he knows he ain't gettin' head later."

*angry-sad Ghia noises in the background*

#anime #reader x ghiaccio #ghiaccio x reader #ghiaccio jjba #la squadra #works for any loud n angry F/O too #to all the cs workers out there... same 💀💀💀 #I imagine Ghia looking like a kicked puppy & it does things to me #f/o prompts #imagine your f/o #villain f/o #jjba

[cs-rylie]

Random idea to break the tie of who to ship Ruby with in my reader-guided fic.. Connect the Prompts (on ao3). Y'all get a preview in how I'll write the ships you've suggested, and maybe vote someone off.. (or you can tell me how bad an idea this is lol..)

LMK if you want to be added/removed from this list @jrob64 @kmomof4 @teamhook @elfiola @anmylica @soniccat @booksteaandtoomuchtv @winterbaby89 @tiganasummertree @undercaffinatednightmare @zaharadessert @eddisfargo @oshii @xarandomdreamx @gingerchangeling @deckerstarblanche @hookedmom @dashingpiratesandswans @thenoveljunkie @djlbg @insanelydeadlybookcollector @grimmswan @veiled-in-moxie @hannahhook7744 @julesep3026 @onceratheart18 @theejael @jonesfandomfanatic @inspiredbystardust @huntressandlioness1 @cleme-art17 @qualitycoffeethings @thepiratething @xellewoods @caityrayeraye @amyveanie @tequedarasavinon @wateryouremu @clickingkeys @stardreamer28 @middlemistcs13 @avmsstuff @thepansexualdemonchef @poetryslam12 @normadcisba @anonymous-persona @kday426 @momontheice @andiirivera

#once upon a time #ouat #cs-rylie #fanfiction #ao3 #ruby lucas #little red riging hood #frankenwolf #red warrior #scarlettwolf #connect the prompts #rylieoriginal

[bluejones]

what about now?

pairing: santi garcia x reader word count: 576 a/n: cs prompt challenge, week 2: “i miss you. i miss you so much it hurts.” ~ turning a sad prompt into something cute and fluffy with cuddles | read on AO3 here~

The afternoon sun shone through the bedroom window. You'd woken from your nap a while ago, but was content to stay where you were for the rest of the day. It was the weekend anyway, and you didn't have any other plans.

The bare chest you were laying on moved steadily with his breaths and your cheek rested against a part of his gold chain, probably making some indent on your face, which it often did.

Santi's fingers ran up and down your back lazily. "I think I need socks." His voice was abrupt in the silence and it made you jolt. You groaned, dissatisfied, and made an ‘uh uh’ sound in your throat. He just chuckled, "Yep. Need em." all while he tried to slide out from under you.

You tried to grip onto him so he'd stay but he was quick, and before you could really do anything, he was standing up from the bed.

"You're so mean. I'll never get comfy again." It was muffled into the covers as you laid down on your front, but you knew he heard from his responding scoff.

"Oh yes, so mean," he said sarcastically. "How do you put up with me?" 

He started rummaging through the drawer. You turned enough to see him and pretend to glare at him. "With much difficulty, that's for sure." You muffled your face into the covers again when he laughed at you.

After he didn't return to you for what felt like at least 5 minutes, you moved around and sat up on your elbows. He had changed the pair of socks he had when you'd first looked at him and was putting on something different. "What are you doing?"

"Ah," he said, hopping on one foot trying to get the other sock on. "I changed my mind, I like these better."

Your groan in response was exaggerated and you flopped back on the bed, hard. You whined, and rolled back over onto your stomach. "I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts." That was also exaggerated, and you thought you might throw in a fake cry for good measure but Santi came jumping onto the bed on his hands and knees, knocking you around a little.

"Aww, you miss me?" He collapsed right on top of you and draped himself across you so you could barely move.

"You miss me now?" He said with a laugh and he poked at your ribs, making your squirm.

"Yes." You managed to squeak out as you were at least able to move your head to the side so you could breathe. Santi rest his head on your shoulder, pressing his lips into it before brushing his cheek against yours. "Guess I'll just have to stay like this then."

You made a pleased sound and caressed his arm with your hand, the one you managed to get out from underneath both your weight. It wasn't exactly ideal but the weight of him on you released some of the tension you were still carrying, the reason you wanted to take a nap with him in the first place. You relaxed into it, helped by Santi’s steady breaths again and the way he nuzzled your cheek every so often.

After a while Santi hummed and with a smile, lifted his head off your cheek. "It's cold up here… Now I'm gonna need a shirt."

You gripped his arm tighter. "Don't you dare!"

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #santi garcia #santiago garcia #triple frontier fanfiction #oscar isaac #santi garcia x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #my writing #cs prompt challenge

[shadow-sandiego-shipping]

Daily Prompts - Day 7

Curtains

"Something's missing..."

The gang gathers around Carmen, looking at an empty corner next to one of the base's windows.

Renovations had been going well, and almost all the base had been painted varnished and furnished. Just a few little details to make it extra homey were missing.

The corner they were looking at, for Carmen, was one, for instance.

"Maybe a reading chair?" Ivy suggests.

Carmen thinks about it. "That's not what I was thinking, but it would look good too."

"Maybe we should write it down so we don't forget?" Zack asks.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. Can you write it down for us, Zack?"

Zack looks for something to write with.

"Here, bro." Ivy hands him a pen she had on her ear to mark the wood on the table they were finishing.

"Thanks, sis." He looks around again. "Got any paper?"

"Just write it on your hand." She waves him off.

Shadow-san arrives and see them all huddled up in the corner. "What are you all doing?"

"Carmen thought of something for the corner, and we're trying to figure out what it was." Zack responds.

"I suggested a reading chair." Ivy turns to them. "Did you write it down yet, Zack?"

"Ah- you know I don't know how to write on my own hands! Here!" He takes Shadow-san’s hand and starts trying to write in it.

"What?" Shadow-san tries to take his hand back, but Zack pulls it back.

"Let me write in your hand, sensei!"

Ivy rolls her eyes, her brother always pulled the 'sensei' card when he wanted something from Shadow-san.

"Why?"

"Cause I don't have any paper and I can't write on my own hands and if I don't write it soon then I'm going to forget what it was!"

"..." Shadow-san looks surprised by Zack's flare.

"Ivy, what was it?"

"Reading chair."

"Right, see?"

Shadow-san sighs. "Fine." He turns his hand so Zack can start writing on it.

"Alright!" Zack uncapps the pen and starts scribbling on Shadow-san’s skin. The pen is ticklish, but Shadow-san stays still.

"Oh, Carm!" Ivy calls the redhead's attention. "If we're getting a reading chair, should we get a little table too? To put the books or a mug in?"

Carmen hums. "Sure, sounds cute."

"Right'o." Zack sticks his tongue out, scribbling the new item.

Shadow-san looks annoyed.

"Oh, and a lamp!" Ivy adds.

"Can't miss a lamp." Carmen chuckles.

"How about a rug?" This time it's Player giving the suggestion through the intercom.

"Sure." Carmen gives the a-ok.

With each suggestion Zack's scribbles get longer and harder agaisnt Shadow-san’s hand. It starts to hurt a little but the ninja barely flinches. However he does grumble when Zack runs out of space in his hand and starts prolonging the scribbles to his arm.

"Oh! What about- "Curtains!" Shadow-san interrupts Ivy, before she can make another suggestion.

Ivy and Carmen turn around to look at him.

"I- I uh... The window could use some curtains?" He repeats shyly.

Carmen snaps her fingers. "That's the one!" She points at Shadow-san. "That's what I thought was missing."

He breathes a relieved sigh as Zack scribbles the last item.

"Nice going Shadow-san!" He says and puts his hand up for a high five Shadow-san does not comply to.

The ninja takes a look at his hand and frowns.

"What does this say???"

Ivy and Carmen approach them as Zack takes a look at what he wrote. The ginger squints, then turns Shadow-san’s hand one way and the other.

"Your handwriting sucks, Zack." Ivy states.

"Y-yeah I have no idea what that says..." Zack replies.

"You wrote it." Shadow-san’s sounds upset.

"Ahh uhhh... let me try again!" Zack grabs Shadow-san by the elbow.

"No! We are getting the curtains and that's it!" Shadow-san dodges the pen.

"Well most of the stuff we suggested was probably going to be used by you!" Ivy points out.

"I'm not the only one who reads." The ninja takes a hold of the pen so Zack stops trying to write on him. He starts trying to take the pen from Shadow-san instead.

"Yeah, but you do it the most." Zack grunts trying to take the pen with no success.

"Wouldn't hurt you to pick up a book..." he grumbles.

Previous day // Promps Aquired from Write App. // Next day

#carmen sandiego #writing prompt #my writing #shadowsan #zack cs #ivy cs #player cs #one shot

[killianxswan]

Prompt: “Oh, baby, you’re drooling everywhere.”

nice one, shazzy

He held her hair back behind her ears, fondling it and twisting it as he guided her head up and down his shaft.

She was sucking him mercilessly, keeping him just on the brink of his orgasm and slowing down at just the right time before he could soar over the edge. Kneeling in front of him, she used her hands to steady her grip on his muscular thighs, using the leverage to help him fuck his member into her mouth even faster.

When she finally stopped teasing him and properly finished him off, she slipped him out of her mouth and let the mixture of her saliva and his release dribble down his cock and his balls.

The sight was so erotic, Killian couldn't help but stroke her hair and admire her as she continued to devour him.

"Mmm," he grunted. "bloody hell, Swan, you're drooling every where."

She hummed softly on his skin, causing him to shiver. "I'm addicted to your taste."

#cs smut #captain swan #cs fanfic #i take prompt requests #abby writes #abby answers asks #when she gets them #thank you shannon<33 hi from vc #cockandballs.org

[iamstartraveller776]

Petrichor with Emma/Killian, please :)

Petrichor - The smell of dry rain on the ground.

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I hope a little Lieutenant Duckling will suffice.

In the Quiet Moonlight

Killian stumbles across her late at night in a secluded glade. This is the place he escapes to on occasion when his ship is in port—when the past digs its claws too deeply in his thoughts. She’s like a specter, her pale, slender fingers hiking her skirts up to her knees as she picks her way through the damp grass on bare feet. Her long flaxen hair is wild, glowing in the moonlight, and he thinks she might have been out in the downpour that passed an hour ago.

When she settles on a large worn boulder in the center of the clearing, when her face tips up toward the glittering sky, recognition makes an uncomfortable knot in his throat. He remembers the day his brother received his naval commission years ago—and the adolescent girl who had made faces at him behind her father’s back during the stuffy ceremony. A teenage Killian got an elbow in the gut when he snorted at her crossed eyes and wagging tongue. Her triumphant grin, more teeth than lip, was endearing, and for a moment, he forgot the asperity that seemed to have been inked into his bones from birth.

Her delicate features, once rounder with youth, have been honed with time, but they’re no less familiar. No less beautiful. She lets out a forlorn sigh, and he wonders what woes could beset a princess who has everything. He’s heard the tales, of course, of her impetuous nature, of the wild antics that gave her parents their graying hair. A sailor regaled the crew with the story of her stowing away on another vessel, playing a cabin boy for half the voyage before she was discovered. Another swore that he’d once been served by her under the guise of common wench in a seedy seaside tavern. Each account was more outlandish than the last.

But the rumors stopped some months ago. He supposes she’s finally grown into her royal obligations.

He spares another breath as a voyeur before deciding to leave her to her ruminations. He’s hardly in the mood for company himself when he’s in such a state. Unfortunately, his quiet retreat is stymied by the crack of a twig under his boot, and he curses under his breath.

She jumps to her feet, dagger in hand. “Who’s there? Show yourself.”

Her mettle draws a smile from him. He rather likes that his sovereign isn’t easily cowed, unlike the simpering political figureheads he’s had the disagreeable opportunity to bow before during his quests for crown and country.

Schooling his face to proper deference, he steps into the glade and offers her the expected obeisance. “I apologize, your highness,” he says. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Her lips purse briefly at the title, but she lowers her blade. “Yes, well…” She pauses, eyes narrowing. “I know you. Captain Jones’s brother.”

He swallows down the turmoil this familiar honor-by-association drums up. Sometimes he dreams of breaking free of the oppressive weight of his brother’s shadow. But he loves Liam fiercely; he’s desperate to make him proud. Particularly when it was his own flaws that nearly cost them this life of military glory before it could begin.

“Aye,” he replies. “Killian Jones, at your service.” Another bow seems to be in order, so he ducks his head.

The princess studies him for a beat, then nods as if she’s made a decision. She squares her shoulders and, despite her unkempt appearance, seems to become the very image of regal heir as she returns her dagger to its hiding place. “You may stay.”

Stay? He raises his brows, but doesn’t voice his bewilderment. “Of course, your highness.”

She rolls her eyes, nose scrunching in a way that is reminiscent of the impish child he remembers. “If you’re going to keep that up, you might as well leave.” She climbs back onto the rock and crosses her legs beneath her skirts. When he stands in place, she gives him a pointed look. “Well? Are you staying or not?”

He ought to go if he wants to keep his head—the king is notoriously protective of his daughter—but curiosity is a siren song he can never deny. “If it pleases you, your—” He cuts off at her glower. “I mean to say, as you wish…Emma.”

“I do.” She pats the space next to her, flashes him a small smile, and it’s the sun peeking over the horizon after a stormy night.

Odd that. He’s never short of comely lasses tossing him a wink and grin. Yet it’s never been like this, though he can’t name what this is. He joins her, leaning against the stone rather than sitting lest he has to make a hasty getaway. No doubt a servant or guard will notice her absence and come searching for her.

Silence stretches between them, marred only by the distant crash of the tide against the pebbled shore. He’s not keen to broach the quiet with frivolous conversation, but he feels he ought to do something. So he pulls the flask out from inside his coat, unscrews the cap, and offers it to her.

She eyes the bottle with suspicion, but accepts it anyway. It only takes a sip before she’s coughing and sputtering, shoving the drink back toward him. “That’s foul,” she says, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth.

He makes a noise of agreement as he takes a pull from the flask. The sweet, smokey liquor is an old friend, though as a naval lieutenant, decorum keeps him from becoming a lush. “It does the job of drowning your cares well enough.”

“Oh?” She turns to face him. “And what kind of troubles does a hero of the Nine Seas have that need drowning?”

Plenty, he lets his wry look say for him. “A mite more than a princess, I imagine.” The words are out before he can think better of them.

She laughs, though there is a brittle edge to it. “You’d be surprised.”

“Indeed?”

He notices her gaze follow him as he takes another swig of rum. She nearly snatches the flask when he offers it again. This time she only coughs once after a generous gulp.

“I didn’t ask to be born a princess, you know,” she says.

That’s true enough, he supposes. He didn’t ask to be born a pauper. And yet, “You have more than a poor sod like me could ever dream of.”

She makes a derisive noise. “More rules. More expectations. More responsibilities.” She waves a hand in the direction of the capital. “All that luxury comes with a price. My life has never been my own and it never will be.”

The defeat in her tone is a prickly bur behind his sternum, and he frowns. “What would you do with it if you were free to choose?”

Her eyes gleam with fervor. “I’d burn every damnable gown I own and only wear trousers.”

“Trousers?” He grins at the image it conjures. She’d look fetching in them.

“Yes,” she says. “And I’d sail away to find adventure. I’d command my own crew, and we wouldn’t be beholden to any crown.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “A mercenary, then? Or pirate?”

“An explorer,” she counters, gesturing wildly. “One who also comes to the aid of others.”

He gently pries the flask from her hands before she can pour out the rest of his rum. “Worthy aspirations, princess. But pray tell, how will you feed your crew?”

Her enthusiasm dips as she seems to consider his question. “I suppose we can take on cargo and passengers or the occasional job—so long as it breaks no laws.”

“Of course,” he agrees with feigned somberness. Truthfully, there’s a certain appeal to her fantasy. Perhaps when he finally grows weary of his regimented existence in the navy, he might chase the vision she painted. The thought has a tang of betrayal to it, though, as if he hasn’t the right to savor that freedom if she can’t.

“I’d…” she begins, gaze dropping to her skirts as she picks at the fabric. “I’d marry for love. I’d choose who gets my first kiss and who…” Her cheeks color over what she leaves unspoken.

The bur in his chest becomes a spiky vine twisting through his ribs. “Would your parents truly deny you a love match?” After all, King David and Queen Snow were famous for their own enduring devotion to one another.

“Maybe not,” Emma says, resignation bowing her shoulders. “But if there is a man with an acceptable pedigree that I don’t find revolting, I haven’t met him—and I’m pretty sure I’ve met them all.”

Killian can’t hold back a soft laugh at her candor, but he quickly sobers at the melancholy in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says helplessly.

“Why?” she asks. “You’re not the cause of my suffering.”

“I’m sorry that I can’t save you from it,” he says with all sincerity. For a foolish moment, he entertains the idea of helping her run off. But they’d be chased until the end of time, his own brother likely leading the charge.

“No one can.” She stares out into the shadowed forest.

He wants to turn away from the ache drawn in her features, but he finds he can’t. Why had the fates seen fit to lock such a fierce, vibrant soul in a gilded prison? Will all that passion be smothered one day by the weight of her birthright? If so, it would be a travesty.

She glances at him with a guarded expression. “There is something I would ask of you.”

He can’t begin to guess what it might be. “Anything, lass.”

Without a word, she grasps the lapels of his coat and drags him to her. Her lips are suddenly on his, and he’s frozen from the shock of it. As quickly as she ambushed him, she pulls back with an embarrassed apology. No, no. That won’t do at all. This can’t be what she remembers as her first kiss.

He brushes back the veil of hair that had fallen across her brow, hooks it behind her ear and traces a line to the hollow of her neck. Her breath quivers to match the erratic cadence of his pulse. Slowly, so that she can refuse him if she wishes, he leans forward, pressing his mouth over hers in a tender caress. Her skin is soft beneath his palms where he cups her jaw, her lips supple against his. That indefinable something swells in his chest as she slides her fingers through his hair, as she relaxes into the kiss. He’s never had an interlude so full of desire and yet so innocent before, and he wishes they could dwell here indefinitely.

But the need for air eventually overcomes them. The need for reality too.

She rests her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Words tangle on his tongue. There are promises he wants to give her—of the independence and recklessness she craves. But he can’t give them any substance. “Aye,” is all he has left to say.

She doesn’t speak as she slides down from the rock. He doesn’t chase after her when she disappears among the trees, though he’s certain she’s taken something precious from him all the same.

The Jewel of the Realm takes to the sea once more, and he ignores Liam’s concern each time his gaze drifts in the direction of Misthaven. Because it isn’t gloom that darkens his thoughts when he recalls the scent of loamy earth mingled with the scent of her beneath the stars. No, it’s the seed of a treasonous story that’s taken root in his heart.

The tale of a navy deserter who steals away with a princess.

~FIN~

#captain swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #lieutenant duckling #prompt #my fic #cs fan fiction #cs fanfiction

[booksteaandtoomuchtv]

CS Sleepy Prompt One-Shots (2/?): “Those energy drinks really aren’t good for you.”

PART ONE | A03 | PART THREE

Emma’s stomach growled, breaking her concentration from the pages and photos laid out before her. The smell of garlic mingled with onions and lamb suddenly seemed to surround her, with a frown she stood from her position at the desk. Her back protested her movements joined shortly by her knees and her jaw. 

Apparently, more time had passed than she’d initially thought. She reached for her drink on the far side of the desk, just a few more glances at the photos and she’d figure this case out. The can was empty. 

“Of course,” Emma sighed, and walked out of her home office toward the kitchen for another drink. The smell of lamb was mixed with thyme and rosemary now, her stomach reminded her once more that a meal was becoming a need. But, she needed to figure out what was happening because she was the only saviour this town had.

Music greeted her as she entered the kitchen, a guitar and soft vocals, accompanied by the smooth singing of her pirate. She smiled as she watched him swaying and cooking, tears pricked at her eyes that they were able to have moments like this - perfect and so… domestic. 

Maybe, one day, moments like this would not steal her breath. She wouldn’t be hit with the overwhelming feeling that this surreal moment was actually happening to her. She’d watched the town traumatised by snow monsters and travelled back in time to the moment her parents met, but those moments felt more real to her than the scene playing in front of her now. 

Quickly, she shook the tears away and cleared her throat. The late nights and early mornings were clearly starting to play with her emotions. She crossed to the fridge, reaching for another Monster to get her through another evening of trying to figure out the newest threat to Storybrooke.

Before she could turn away from the fridge, Killian had appeared behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist and he tugged the drink from her hand in one fluid motion. He set the drink on the counter tsking in her ear, “those energy drinks really aren’t good for you.”

She spun around in his arms, “I am so close to figuring this out.”

“A real meal and some sleep will do more than that, that,” he scowled at the drink on the counter behind him, not bothering to finish his thought. 

“I suppose that is my real meal?” She tried to look at what was cooking with doubtful suspicion, but her stomach growling gave her away.

“Aye,” Killian said with mock indignity before extracting himself and walking toward the range and placing a glass baking dish in the oven. “It’ll be shepherd’s pie and bed for you, Swan.” 

“Killian, I need to…”

“You have forty-five minutes while this bakes and that will be all for the night,” his voice was sterner than he’d intended. But the dark circles under her eyes and the way she swayed on her feet destroyed him. She would work herself to death to protect this town she’d made her home. He sometimes felt that he was the only one that would protect her from the pain she could inflict on herself. 

“Swan, you need to rest,” he said gently, a bit of apology and pleading in his eyes. “Please, love.”

“That’s not fair,” she pouted. 

“I promise, I'll make it advantageous for you,” he smirked, waggling his eyebrows with playful suggestion. 

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

Let me know if you want to be tagged when there are updates. @kmomof4

#sleepy prompts #cs fanfic #captain swan #captain swan fanfiction #cs canon compliant #ouat s6 #killian x emma #killian jones #emma swan

[doomingthenarrative]

JULETHIEF AND THE STARS!!! THE GALAXY!!!!!!!!!!! THE UNIVERSE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

julia wasn’t sure exactly why the mysterious notes were leading her to the planetarium, nor why she had suddenly gotten 5 days off of work. did she have a sneaking suspicion? well, yes.

perhaps a better way to say it would be that she had a sneaky girlfriend.

she stepped out of her car, the cool night air causing a slight blush in her cheeks - it definitely wasn’t the red silhouette she saw leaning against the door of the planetarium.

“hey jules,” carmen sandiego called, opening the door. “almost didn’t think i’d see you tonight.”

“i may be a quick study -” julia paused to lean on her tiptoes and kiss carmen’s cheek. “-but it takes me a while to decipher your clues. can’t you ask me on a date like a normal person, la femme rogue?”

“where’s the fun in that?” carmen teased, grabbing her hand and pulling her inside.

“well, then, pop quiz,” julia grinned. “when was the first planetarium opened?”

“august 1923,” carmen responded automatically. “at the deutsches museum in munich.”

“close.” julia clicked her tongue as she followed behind her girlfriend. “that was when it was first established and tried as an idea; it opened to the public in october that very same year.”

carmen chuckled, opening the doors to the dome. “i should’ve just said the year.”

“yea,” julia agreed softly, staring at the stars, a content feeling filling her. “you should’ve.”

“going soft on me, jules?” carmen sat down against the wall, pulling julia down with her. “what happened to catching the great crimson thief?” she put an arm around her.

julia leaned into her side. “i’d much rather go on a date with my brilliant girlfriend.”

#julethief #carulia #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego 2019 #i hope that this is stars/planet -y enough?? #thanks for the prompt tho<3 love u shamsi #my writing #cs #asks #compressed stars