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#tit thursday
endversescas · 20 days ago
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happy tits out thursday
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seffersonjtarship · 20 days ago
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tits out thursday coming soon
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jeanne-de-valois · 12 days ago
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It. It’s tits out Thursday.
Comic looks like it’ll be done neeeeeeeext Friday, probably!
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elizabeethan · 12 days ago
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TIT Thursday: Watch the Sunlight Fade
Part 7 coming soon!
Get caught up here
~~~~
Killian’s intention was not to sleep with Emma Swan. His intention was to lift her from the couch, gently and easily as he’s done before, and carry her to bed, leaving her to sleep peacefully. He intended to leave her in his room, tucked in and comfortable, and then sleep in his guestroom, listening for signs of nightmares.
He did not intend to sleep beside Emma Swan. When she clung to the collar of his shirt, sleeping as he carried her to bed, he intended to uncurl her fingers, perhaps place a gentle kiss to her forehead, and leave her in the privacy of his bedroom. He did not intend to let her look of sleepy desperation-- of a quiet, hopeless need to be held-- sway him when she pulled him close to her, refusing to let him leave. He did not intend to give in to her so easily, curling up behind her and letting her nestle herself against his front. He didn’t intend for her to fall asleep so effortlessly, and to sleep so soundly through the night as he held her close to him.
He didn’t intend for any of this to happen, but when he wakes with the sun and feels her warmth pressed against him, he can’t say he minds.
The battle that has plagued him internally since the moment he laid eyes on her rages on with her soft, contented sigh, and he wonders what she must be thinking. He wonders what the few moments of gentle peace before she wakes must be like for her. How it must feel to be tricked so easily into feelings of safety in the arms of another, only to wake and be faced with the painful reality that, to the man who is supposed to love her, she is nothing more than a means to an end. It kills him to not know what the end could be.
She stirs, and he knows that the bliss he felt when he first woke is set to fade as reality sets in for her. When she nuzzles her cheek against his bicep, the one attached to his tingling hand, he knows she must still be trapped in a dream, thinking herself cuddling closer to her doting boyfriend. He would give anything for that to be true for her.
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kmomof4 · 5 days ago
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TIT Thursday... Since I Forgot WIP Wednesday...
So I’m taking a few days off of writing because I’ve written around 10k words since the first of the month and I’m tired... 
But the last night I wrote, I wrote 2000 words and the ending scene was so stinking cute (imho), I wanted to share it. Kinda Captain Cobra, with a definite hint of CS 😏 This is from Secrets, the triplet fic I’ve been working on since April. I’m hoping to get it finished and started posting before school starts, but that's 2 1/2 weeks away, so we’ll see if that actually happens or not...
Tag list: Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.
@hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @snowbellewells @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @jennjenn615 @kingofmyheart14 @profdanglaisstuff @branlovestowrite @thisonesatellite @ultraluckycatnd @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @let-it-raines @shireness-says @kymbersmith-90 @darkcolinodonorgasm @bethacaciakay @searchingwardrobes @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @aprilqueen84 @qualitycoffeethings @superchocovian @artistic-writer @donteattheappleshook @doodlelolly0910 @seriouslyhooked @tiganasummertree @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @klynn-stormz @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @zaharadessert @elizabeethan @xhookswenchx @gingerpolyglot @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713 @sailtoafarawayland @justanother-unluckysoul @veryverynotgoodwrites @jonesfandomfanatic @deckerstarblanche @the-darkdragonfly @batana54 @purplehawkcaptain @k-leemac
And here we go!!!
Before he could claim her lips, she stiffened beneath him and pushed back against his shoulders.
“Henry,” she gasped, panic tingeing his name.
She vaulted herself out of bed and it was only when she left the room still tying her robe around her that he became aware of abject sobbing from Henry’s room.
He followed Emma across the hall, not that he expected she’d need any help, but wanting to be available just in case. What he found had his heart racing as a fervent desire rose up in him. Emma sat on Henry’s bed holding him close as he sobbed as if his heart would break. She was murmuring to him, too low for him to hear, but whatever she said, it was obviously working as Henry nodded into her breast and dried his tears on the fluffiness of her robe. She ran her fingers through his hair and placed a kiss on the top of his head.
Henry looked up, spying him standing in the doorway. “Can Killian stay too?” he asked.
Killian’s heart threatened to explode right then and there. “I’d be glad to, Henry.” He walked slowly, the light from the hallway barely enough lumination to avoid the toys scattered all over the floor of his room. He reached the bed and sat down behind Emma, reaching around her to pat Henry’s shoulder as she rocked him back and forth, humming a soft melody in his ear.
It was only a few minutes before Henry was safe in the arms of sleep once again and Killian stood so that Emma could lay him back down and tuck him in. He held out his hand to her as she rose from the bed and reached for him. He drew her into his side and held her close.
“Let's go back to bed,” he murmured.
She nodded, shutting Henry’s door behind her.
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elizabeethan · 5 days ago
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TIT Thursday: Watch the Sunlight Fade
Chapter 8 is coming soon... have an extra long preview!
Get caught up here
~~~~
Every night, she fights off the desperation to walk across the hall and join Killian in his bed, letting his strong arms consume her and blanket her with a sense of ease and contentment. Every night, she fights with herself as she crawls into bed with Neal, a man she thought she loved, and forces herself to put on an act of affection towards him. She forces herself to lie back and accept his convoluted attempts at showing her that he loves her, knowing that he couldn’t possibly. If he loved her, he would never have lied to her. If he loves her, he would let her go.
She also fights with herself through the anger she feels, directed inward rather than at anyone else. Sure, she’s mad at Neal for what he’s done, what he’s putting her through, but at the end of the day, she’s the fool to let herself be put in this position. It’s her fault. She should have seen through his lies from the moment she met him, but she was too desperate for love and family and acceptance. He knew that, too, and he exploited her weaknesses like she meant nothing to him.
It drives her mad to not know what he’s after. She’s hardly the most skilled person at finding people who don’t want to be found, so why he feels the need to target her specifically, she can’t say. It could be argued that, in some perplexing, psychotic way, he thinks he loves her, but she knows now that this isn’t love. It can’t be.
Lying at his side, wide awake through her inability to sleep, she can’t seem to shut her mind off. Each time she closes her eyes, she feels terror at the memories burned behind her lids. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees Neal on top of her, despite her resolve to squeeze her eyes shut each time he decides he wants to be with her. Usually, she’s able to go to another place, letting thoughts of the beach or her happy future serve as a distraction of her fear, but sometimes she can’t ignore the feeling of his rough fingertips burning her skin.
Sometimes, when she’s in Neal’s arms and struggling to get past the feelings that come along with being with him, she thinks of Killian. Not necessarily in a way of longing for him-- not because she wishes she was with him instead, although she can only assume it would be more pleasurable-- but because of the comfort that he always brings her. Being with him is like being embraced by warmth and safety itself. It’s like the rest of the world turns off, and all that’s on her mind is the soothing way his arms wrap around her and the gentle rise and fall of his chest against her cheek. She doesn’t have to worry when she’s with him. She only has to think about how good it feels to be in his arms.
And she’s noticed his physique, too. It would be difficult not to. She noticed that first night, when he lifted his sweatshirt off and pulled his t-shirt up with it. She noticed the other day when he visited her in her cave of an office, leaning his shoulder against the door frame with his arms crossed, muscles bulging out of his sleeves and a tempting smirk coloring his lips as he teased her over the dinosaur of a computer she was working on. She notices the way he looks with almost everything he does, and she knows it's a dangerous game that she’s playing.
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elizabeethan · a month ago
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TIT Thursday: Watch The Sunlight Fade
Chapter 3 is Coming on Monday!
Read the rest here!
It’s surprisingly even more terrifying to be in the shop during the day than it was at night. At least when she was here last night, the shadows kept the frightening details of the space hidden, but now that the sun is up and streaming through the small basement windows, she’s able to see too much.
She can see the aged and worn paint on the walls, giving her an automatic and infallible feeling of unease. She can see the decorative weapons proudly displayed on every inch of every wall. She can see the rugged violence on each of the men’s faces so clearly in the sunlight. Being here terrifies her.
“Morning, Miss Swan,” Peter greets as Neal leads her into the large meeting room. He’s already sitting at the table waiting for them, Gold at his right and an empty seat to his left. There are several other members at the table as well, and she can’t help but notice how bright Killian’s eyes look in the sun streaming through the windows. “Welcome to your first real family meeting.”
The others around the table laugh, everyone but Jones seeming to find his joke about her near death experience to be funny. “Aren’t you going to say hello?” Neal asks in her ear, his voice low and his teeth clearly clenched.
She clears her throat and gives Peter the fakest smile she can muster. “Good morning.”
“That’s a good lass,” he praises, setting free a flock of anxious butterflies in her stomach. “Come sit. We saved you a seat by Neal.”
They sit side by side, and it’s becoming easier and easier to question his ranking within the group of men at the table. She finds it impossible to see him as a simple lackey when his name is carved into the table in intricate lettering in front of his chair, directly to the right of Peter's seat at the head.
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sailtoafarawayland · 5 months ago
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Get your TITS out, it’s Thursday...
Did you guys know that Today I’m Typing Thursday is a thing? I didn’t, but I’m typing something most days, so here’s a fun little drabble/not drabble based on some fun discord chat and a book cover that was too good to pass up. 
The Premise: Killian is a successful children’s book author, and while no one else knows it, each best seller he writes is a pointed jab at the one man who urged him onto greatness...revenge is indeed a motivation as old as time, and everyone knows revenge is best served cold. Here’s the book cover that inspired this little tidbit. 
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Success is the Best Revenge
Gold knew what was in the package without opening it. It sat there innocently on top of business mail and store flyers, a modestly wrapped brown package hand addressed with spidering, ornate script. It had been some time since he’d received the last…gift…and he’d hoped that the sender had changed careers, or fallen into the bottle, or perhaps even died.
It seems he’d been too hopeful.
Gritting his teeth, he snatched the offending package up, his nails pressing small tears into the thick paper.
He should just throw it in the bin.
His jaw aching from tension he couldn’t release if he wanted to, he tore open the package, revealing a gaudy red book, a sickly-looking crocodile front and center with crooked teeth and large, weeping eyes.
Why did he torture himself?
The title “What Made the Crocodile Cry?” looped across the top of the cover in a child-friendly font.
As if it were someone else moving his fingers, Gold eased the cover open, the spine cracking as he revealed the message scribed in elegant writing within.
‘As always, I wouldn’t be the success I am today without you, Crocodile. – Killian Jones’
Gold slammed the book closed, his temper only spiraling further when his eyes alighted on the bottom corner where numerous accolades were displayed—from The New York Times Best Sellers List to the Charlotte Zolotow Award to the Caldecott Medal itself.
And who would have thought his one-time rival, Killian Jones, was the recipient of them all—and with Gold himself as the tragic, insipid, reptilian inspiration behind each book.
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hollyethecurious · 5 months ago
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TIT Thursday: A Scandal at Swansdown Part Three Sneak Peek
Hooray! It’s Things I’m Typing (TIT) Thursday! Today’s sneak peek is dedicated to @jrob64 because she’s been oh, so patient with me about Killian and Emma’s son’s name 😘. 
The final installment of A Scandal at Swansdown posts Sunday! Catch up on Tumblr (Part One / Part Two) or on Ao3!
~/~
Opening his pocket watch, Killian checked the time just as the parlor door opened. His head snapped up to see his Emma enter, a slightly frantic aura surrounding her as she apologized for her tardiness.
“Forgive me. I did not mean to make you wait.”
“Is everything alright, love?”
“Yes. Fine,” she assured him. “I just… that is… my son was not too keen in letting me leave him with his nanny this morning. He has not yet settled into his new surroundings.”
“I can only imagine such an upheaval would be rather traumatic when one is too young to understand--”
The parlor door banged open, and a small boy came running in with cries of Mama! as he sprinted towards them. Emma scooped the boy up into her arms, and with a visible inhale of fortification, met Killian’s stunned expression. 
He had been expecting a wee babe, or a child no older than a toddler, not one of about four years old. A child with dark hair and familiar blue eyes, with points tipping his ears and a dimple he clearly inherited from his mother, denting his chin. The boy asked who the man was, and Emma took in another deep breath as Killian held his.
“Sweetheart,” she cooed softly at the lad. “This is my friend, Killian Jones, the Earl of Hookshire.”
The boy’s face lit up. Pointing at his chest he excitedly announced, “That’s my name! Mama named me after my Papa.” Killian’s held breath whooshed from his lungs, and his eyes snapped to Emma’s when the lad asked with an innocence only a child could deliver. “Are you my Papa?”
Seeing the truth shimmering in Emma’s gaze, Killian turned his attention back to her son - his son - and found himself unable to answer.
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