#exhaustedpirate
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Please help us welcome @exhaustedpirate back for CSSNS24!
Your Tumblr and other applicable names
exhaustedpirate on tumblr, beholdtherollyjoger on ao3
How long have you been a part of the CS/OUAT fandom?
Since 2013, caught it right at the end of season 3 and had to suffer through the hiatus
When did you start shipping Captain Swan?
Ever since that devilishly handsome pirate got his hair pulled by the beautiful badass savior
What drew you to this event?
I get to write Killian and Emma falling in love in a fantastical way, what's not to love?!
What inspired your topic?
It being the last year of CSSNS, I wanted to write the OG supernatural creatures. Besides, I have never written vampires or werewolves so why not?
If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.
At this early stage of the game, I can tell you I'll be giving you a range of environments: you'll be getting cozy, sweet and "snowed in" with my werewolf entry and dark, tragic and "spent my whole life waiting for you" with my vampire entry!
What kind of art do you like to do? Picsets, painting, digital, etc? Feel free to give as much info as you like.
Picsets and the occasional simple edit, anything that gives the reader the vibe of the story they're about to read!
What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?
Reading all the amazing work of my shipmates! Seriously talented people around here!
Totally agree @exhaustedpirate! We are so lucky! Make sure to catch their stories dropping on July 5th and August 16th, and their artwork dropping on July 11th and August 4th!
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Parent for Hire: A New Fic for @cssns by @exhaustedpirate
Y’all, I was privileged to not only make art for this story, but also to beta it and let me tell you, it is sooooo lovely!!! Caro has melted my Captain Cobra heart many times over already and I’m so tickled that her post date is finally here!!!
You can find her fic on ao3 here and on tumblr here.
Here is the artwork for the fic!
Enjoy the fic and please go give her all the love!!!
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Oooh, this is a great ghost story!! Both spooky and sweet!!
call disconnected
my first entry for CS Autumn/Spooky Bingo created by the lovely @hollyethecurious - the prompt was "ghost stories", i got a little carried away and made it into a bit of a crime solving thing! all my love and devotion goes to @belovedcreation for betaing!
rated T | 7849 words
also on AO3
summary: Sheriff Emma Swan gets a call about an accident in the woods, a man begging her for help. An hour later, Killian Jones is on his way to the hospital. Funny thing is, the call for help doesn't match the voice of the victim.
The call arrives just after 2 o’clock, which is lucky because there would be a whole other emergency if someone stopped Emma Swan from getting her grilled cheese.
Ruby is supposed to be on phone duty but there is an anniversary dinner to plan and she doesn’t want to be responsible for Mulan having an underwhelming night due to her wife’s rushed planning. So Emma is covering the phones when it rings.
“Sheriff Swan speaking.”
Static greets her on the other side of the line, tensing her body unconsciously before a voice rings out. “Help, I-I fell-” It’s a strange panicked voice she’s never heard before, an accent not common to their small town of Storybrooke, Maine. She feels a tingle in her spine all the way to her hands. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir,” Emma takes a deep steadying breath. “Can you tell me where you fell?”
“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” His guttural grunt of pain weighs on her chest and she feels like she’s having difficulty breathing. “I can see the bone, I-”
Static plays up again and she feels his panic in her veins. “I can barely hear you, sir,” Her knuckles are white as she tightens her hold on the phone, pressing it harder against her ear as if it will make it easier to hear. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”
“The river, Shepherd River,” His breathing becomes panicked and she knows she should keep him calm, urging him to take shorter breaths but she’d feel like a hypocrite. “I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”
The call cuts off and she is left with the sounds of her fast breathing. “Sir? Sir?”
Emma tries to redial, grateful for the old technology to allow her to do so. An automated voice informs her the number is not in service and she frowns in confusion.
Maybe it was a prank.
Maybe some of the local teenagers were trying to send her on a wild goose chase so they can vandalise another section of their lovely neighbourhood.
But the panic was real. The fear in that voice was real. The hairs on her arms are still raised as she remembers the voice, as she remembers all the alarms her body gave her.
Graham pokes his head into her office a second after. “Emma?” Her hand hurts from where she’s still holding onto the phone as if her life depends on it. “Are you alright?”
Maybe it is a prank.
The tight feeling on her chest tells her to go check it out nonetheless.
She drops the phone, with maybe too much strength, before she faces her deputy. “Are you up for a hike?”
---
It really is lucky that Graham practically lives in the woods. Emma was made for concrete roads and windows to keep the insects away. She wouldn’t last an hour alone in these woods.
The Toll Bridge crosses through the edge of the forest. The Misthaven Trail parallels the Shepherd River that flows under the bridge. It’s common to see vehicles on the side of the road - hikers leaving the last piece of civilization before venturing into the forest.
Emma parks the cruiser alongside a Chevrolet Chevelle and she’s almost sad to see it left to the whims of nature. But it probably belongs to their injured hiker. She places her hand on the hood of the car. She can still feel some warmth.
“This must be his.��� She points the car out to Graham. “It’s probably been like an hour since he left. Call the hospital, ask them to get an ambulance here.”
Graham nods and grabs his phone. She lets his voice become background noise as she inspects the car. The door is unlocked, the hiker probably wasn’t expecting to be long. There’s a satchel in the back seat. She opens the door and looks inside. There’s an ID in the wallet and a buzzing in her ears when she looks at the picture on it. Killian Jones.
“They’re on their way,” Graham breaks through her inspection and everything becomes clearer. “I told them to keep their radio on.”
She nods. “We’re looking for Killian Jones,” Emma turns the ID towards him before tossing it inside the car. “Assuming he’s our hiker.”
Graham has his tracking face on as she closes the door. There’s something on the driver side floor that causes that tugging in her gut that guides her to flare up.
“It’s a good thing it hasn’t rained,” Graham points out from the other side of the car. “There are some recent footprints leading west. They’re probably his.”
“The Misthaven Trail,” Emma nods, any investigating paused in lieu of finding the injured hiker. “Let’s go.”
“Stay behind me.”
“Go get him, Fido.” Emma presses her lips together attempting to hide the smile at her terrible joke, but fails at the sight of his unimpressed look.
They follow the trail in familiar silence. Graham’s experience allows them to travel at a fast speed through the trees. They pay close attention to any sounds out of the ordinary - which is to say, anything that isn’t birds, animals or the rushing river below them.
“Emma.”
Graham stops and she manages to stop before she runs into him. He gestures to the ground where a blanket is crumpled underneath a tree, still warm.
“Still warm,” Emma confirms before dropping the blanket. “He must be close. Maybe he fell.”
“After all the warnings the Mayor released, there’s still people who forget to respect the forest.”
“I thought those had only been around for the past year,” Emma frowns, looking around. “I mean, you both gave me an hour-long lecture about it when I started.”
“Everyone in town knows to be cautious of these woods but there was a, uhm,” And it is the first time she’s ever seen Graham sound uncertain, his voice trembling with emotion. He clears his throat before he continues. “There was a death in these woods.”
She sees the way he looks guarded now, in pain. “Oh.”
A flash catches the corner of her eye. With a hand to cover her eyes from the sun, she turns towards it. The sunlight has caught on a metal flask within throwing distance from the blanket, she assumes. Close to it is a pile of rocks. A strange pile, each rock deliberately placed on top of the other. It must have been a while since it’s been built there according to the moss growing on them.
Emma turns towards her deputy to point that to him but sees him a few steps away looking at the ground. “Drag marks,” he points out as if he could feel her eyes on him. “He must have fallen down-”
“Help!” A weak yell cuts him off and they whip their heads to the right.
“And ended up down by the river,” Emma finishes for him in a quiet voice, her heart beating faster at the sound of pain, as she stands next to the deputy.
Using caution, Emma follows Graham’s lead as he gets them to the river bank following the sounds of pain. Halfway down, they locate the hiker and for the first time, Graham’s confidence falters and so do his steps. A man is slumped on the side of the river, covered in dirt and blood. She can see tendrils of red flowing down the river.
“Don’t move,” Graham orders, recovering quickly, as he stands next to the victim who seems to slump at their arrival, the fight leaving his body in his relief. “We’re here to help.”
Emma kneels on one side of him and is instantly on alert at the sight of the gash in his head and the bone protruding from his leg. She looks up at Graham and he seems to read her thoughts.
“I’ll guide the paramedics here,” Graham says, grabbing the radio from his belt. “Keep him still and awake.”
She nods before he returns to the trail to guide the others to where they are. Emma places her hand on the man’s shoulder, careful to avoid hurting him further. His big blue eyes turn to her, pain and fear side by side with hope and creating a tug in her gut.
She clears her throat. “Are you Killian Jones?”
“Aye, I fell, broke my leg,” he explains in a hoarse voice. She frowns at the sound, a whole other type of tingle running up her spine. “The ground caved under me.”
There’s static in her radio before Graham’s voice rings out. “ETA is three minutes, is he conscious?”
“Yeah, conscious and lucid,” Emma answers through the radio. “Broken leg and head injury.”
“I thought I was going to die here,” Killian groans as she puts away the device. “How did you find me?”
“The Misthaven Trail is long and you weren’t exactly specific.” Emma breathes out a chuckle, her nerves slightly calmed at knowing help is coming. “But we found where you fell down. We would have been here faster but service in this area is crap. I don’t know how you called us in the first place.” She’s babbling. She does that when she’s nervous.
Killian’s eyebrows furrow together, confusion taking over the pain. “I called you?”
“Hmm, yeah, that’s how we knew to come find you.” She answers as if it’s obvious, even as a pull in her gut tries to tell her otherwise.
“I left my phone in the car,” he explains and she feels that tingle up her spine once more. “I didn’t call anyone.”
Careful footsteps and cautious voices approach them and she lets the paramedics do their job as they put Killian Jones in the stretcher and cover his wounds. Their eyes remain locked until the last possible moment before Emma follows behind the stretcher being led by Graham.
A light flashes in her eyes once more and she looks up at it, the pile of rocks still standing proudly in the forest, a bird perched on the top stone, its deep blue wings fluttering. The hairs at the back of her neck stand in attention and she tries to make sense of what happened.
They found the hiker exactly where he told her he’d be. His leg was broken, just like the call said - she wouldn’t soon forget the sight of the bone piercing his flesh. The voice was different, Emma noticed it right away, but there were no signs of other hikers in the area.
But if the call wasn’t made by Killian Jones, then who called them for help?
---
Loud laughter rings out from the open kitchen window. An unconscious smile stretches Emma’s lips as she looks out at the dark heads illuminated by the fire pit she borrowed from Graham. Despite being disappointed at the cancelled camping trip, Henry seemed to have forgotten all about it when she reminded him of the comforts of home camping and the awesome backyard that came with their house.
After the day they had, Emma just couldn’t think of Henry in the woods.
“Emma?”
Speaking of, her deputy’s voice from the phone in her ear brings her back to the present.
“Yeah, sorry.” She turns her back to the window, leaning on the counter. “I got distracted.”
“I was saying that Mr. Jones should be going into his MRI scan right now and after that, they are preparing him for surgery on his leg. The doctors said that despite the trauma his body has been through, he’s doing really well.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Emma breathes out in relief. Against her best interests, she hadn’t been able to put this strange rescue away from her mind. There was just something about the call, his voice, his eyes, that just didn’t seem right.
She feels Graham’s patient silence on the other side and she nods to herself to gather up courage. “Doesn’t all of this seem strange to you? The whole situation.”
“Emma-”
“He didn’t call the station, Graham, it was someone else, I swear,” she interrupts, her hackles raised. “He didn’t have a phone on him either, this is all just-”
“Weird,” Graham interrupts this time and he sighs. “I should have told you earlier, but I know Killian Jones, we a- were friends.”
“What?”
“He used to live here until last year. His brother, he-” Emma waits in suspense as Graham takes a deep steadying breath. “He died while on a hike in that trail a year ago, I assume Killian went there to pay his respects. I didn’t even know he was in town until we found him.”
“Y-You didn’t say anything.”
“Well, I didn’t want to believe it was him and then, when we found him, I knew I had to stay focused. I needed to do my job.”
“Right,” Emma scratches her forehead, her brain full of conflicting thoughts. This was a lot to consider. “So who called the station? A ghost?” She asks her question sarcastically to disguise how the possibility doesn’t sound too ridiculous to her.
“All I know is that we had a long day, Emma,” Graham evades, his tone placating and calm. “We should get our rest and look at this whole thing again tomorrow, with fresh eyes.”
“You’re right,” she exhales. “Goodnight, Graham. Keep me updated.”
“Goodnight, Emma.”
Emma ends the call and throws the phone at the dinner table. She’s going to push those doubts away even if she needs to force them away. She’s got some happy campers to focus on. Emma pulls the popcorn from the microwave and picks up the platter she made with the components for s’mores before pushing the back door open carefully.
“Does anyone know any ghost stories?” Ava Zimmer is almost vibrating in her seat as she grabs a handful of chips Emma brought earlier. Camping is not synonymous with healthy food.
“Ghosts? Aren’t we too old for that?” Nicholas Zimmer, on the other hand, is trying to hide his fear with bravado.
“Come on, Nick, it’s almost Halloween.” Henry knocks shoulders with his friend’s and she can hear the grin in his voice. “And that means ghost stories. Besides, they’re not real.”
“Yeah,” Ava agrees. “It’s just spooky and Halloween is the time for spooky.”
“Just not too spooky,” Emma interrupts, ignoring the way Nicholas startles at the sound of her voice - no need to embarrass the boy. “Otherwise you won’t sleep tonight.”
“Have you heard the story of the Misthaven Ghost?” Henry leans close to his friends on the bench with a grin.
Emma is glad for her steady grip on the platter or there would be no s’mores tonight. “Misthaven Ghost? Where did you hear that sort of story?” She tries to keep her voice cool but even she can hear the edge in it - was she the last one to hear about this? -, focusing instead on placing the food down on the small camping table she opened.
“Mr. Booth is having us write a ghost story for class and he gave us that one as an example,” Henry answers and he must misinterpret her questioning as innocent curiosity but she’s not going to correct him. “Do you wanna hear it?”
“Would you mind if I joined you?”
“No, please join us!” Nicholas grabs her thankfully empty hands to pull her to sit between him and his twin after Henry stands up to stand on the other side of the fire.
“You’re such a scaredy cat.” Ava teases, looking at him around Emma.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
“Kids.” Emma warns, holding their arms to keep them from hitting each other.
“Listen up! For I am about to tell you the story of the Misthaven Ghost,” Henry calls from the other side of the fire before popping another popcorn in his mouth. Emma finds herself smiling at her kid’s dramatics. “It was a cold night in October, the 30th of October to be exact. An innocent man is walking the Misthaven Trail, determined to beat all odds and finish the hike. He is alone, nothing but his thoughts and the animals around him,” Nicholas plasters himself to Emma’s side. “He carries only a phone that won’t work this far into the woods and his bravery. He hears a presence to his right, to his left, all around, feels the hairs at the back of his neck stand in attention and a voice whispers in the wind,” Ava holds her right arm now as Henry lowers his voice. “‘Get out of the woods’, it says, ‘get out’, but the hiker is too fearless to heed their warning. Suddenly, a boom lights the sky and the ground gives out from under him, and then he’s falling. He’s falling and he can’t ask for help,” Emma feels the shiver running up her spine and, distantly, she thinks maybe Henry should focus on this storytelling ability he has. “He is floating on the river then, his body weak and leaving him, his last thought on the family he leaves behind, a last goodbye sent to the stars he loved so much.”
Henry finishes with a fluttering gesture towards the night sky. Ava and Nicholas on either side of her are gripping her arm, not willing to break the silence.
“He had a family?” Emma asks and even her quiet tone manages to startle the twins.
“Were you scared, Ava?” Nicholas asks as he looks at his sister, a victorious grin winning over his fear.
Ava huffs and crosses her arms. “No, you’re the scared one.”
“It’s a good story, isn’t it?” Henry asks, a bright smile on his face and a proud stance to his shoulders.
“Mr. Booth told you this story?” Emma tries again.
“Yeah,” Henry grabs another handful of popcorn, now that his story is done, eating one at a time. “He wanted us to have an example of what to write but he was probably also showing off.”
The kids laugh, everyone in town knowing of August’s designs of being a published author and his constant promises of finishing his novel soon. But there was still something niggling at Emma’s brain.
“Did he make up the story himself? Or did he hear it from someone?”
“He says he made it up inspired by a real event,” Henry shrugs. “I told Mrs. Nolan about it and she said that, about a year ago, someone did die in those woods and that’s when the Mayor put out the announcement.” He grabs the marshmallow sticks and passes them along to his friends who are still visibly spooked. “Apparently there had been lots of reports of injuries and lost hikers on that trail before that.”
“So it took someone dying for them to actually do something about it? Figures.” Emma scoffs and Henry shrugs, unaware of the turmoil in his mother’s brain.
“Okay, can we tell less spooky stories now?” Nicholas asks, begs almost, bringing Emma back to the present. The fact that Ava doesn’t tease her brother is telling.
“Why don’t I grab my laptop and put on a movie for you?” Emma suggests, standing up from the bench.
“Nightmare before Christmas?” Nicholas turns pleading eyes towards his friends.
Ava nods and then seems to remember herself. “Only if we watch ‘Monster House’ after.”
Her twin seems to think about it before nodding resolutely. “Deal! Is that okay, Henry?”
Henry smiles, seemingly just happy to have a fun night with his friends. “As long as it’s Halloween themed, I’m in.”
Emma grins, despite everything. “Double feature it is,” she chuckles. “I’ll set it up.”
‘This is Halloween’ drifts through the open kitchen window as the kids settle down making s’mores in the yard while Emma sits at the kitchen table. She finds Killian Jones’ social media easily enough - she wouldn’t have become one of the best bail bondsperson in the business without being able to find someone’s internet footprint with only a name and a date of birth. It might be slightly illegal to have taken a picture of the man’s ID but what is she gonna do? Arrest herself?
Maybe Emma needed to take a long look within herself if she was negotiating committing illegal acts to herself… After she got to the bottom of this mystery.
Killian Jones is even more handsome than she had previously thought. Considering the only times she’d been able to actually look at him were either a small grainy ID photo or him caked in dirt and blood, it wasn’t a high bar.
Seeing him on the deck of a small boat, a colourful shirt open to show his chest underneath, his eyes crinkled in laughter as he holds out a beer bottle in cheers to the person behind the camera is a welcome alternative. She has to force herself to scroll past the picture.
She notices belatedly that the last post - the Hawaiian shirt distraction - is from a year ago, September to be exact. In the middle of all the thirsty comments, she finds something interesting. ‘Don’t shut me out, Killian, I’m here for you’, was posted by one bookworm33 and it would have looked weird if it didn’t speak of desperation and worry.
Emma continues to scroll down and doesn’t have to swipe too long before she pauses at a picture of Killian Jones and a man that shares the same eyes and facial features. Her gut tugs at her and she taps on the picture once, a tag covering the man’s eyes. Bejewelled40 - whose real name is Liam Jones - aside from being a Taylor Swift fan, is also Killian Jones’ brother.
There are pictures of them in boats, hiking, and visiting foreign countries, even some that include Graham. His posts also end a year ago and the ‘remembering’ on the top of his profile is an easy explanation. Clicking on the first photo - different angles to the September boat trip, focusing more on Liam Jones than his brother - she finds another comment hidden between thirsty comments and boat enthusiasts. ‘I miss you’, written simply and it’s the lack of emojis that catch Emma’s attention. Bookworm33 was clearly important to the siblings.
It doesn’t take her long to get a better picture of the situation. Belle French, the brother’s friend, has been a librarian at Storybrooke High for the past 4 years after a troublesome divorce made her move cities. Pictures and references to the Jones brothers start a few months after that, before there’s a significant lack of Killian Jones in her pictures a year later.
An article in the local newsletter, an announcement in the paper and a remembrance post on Facebook spells out the rest of the story. The Jones Brothers move to Storybrooke 5 years ago and join the community, Liam as the Sheriff and Killian as the Harbormaster; Belle and Liam start their romance and become engaged two years ago. A year ago, Belle’s father passes away and she travels back home and Liam is found dead on the Misthaven Trail three days later. Killian Jones isn’t seen in Storybrooke for a whole year after the funeral until Emma finds him almost dead by the river bank.
A message notification puts an end to her research. ‘Jones is out of surgery and we should be able to visit him tomorrow’, Graham texts and she looks at the clock. Emma sighs. Two hours researching and she still has so many questions.
‘Take the day off tomorrow, Humbert, I’ll follow up with Jones’, she messages back. ‘Don’t argue with me, I’m your boss, you deserve some rest’, she sends right after, expecting the argument.
‘Alright, Sheriff, I leave it to your capable hands.’ The reminder causes her to massage her temples. She has Liam Jones’ job; could this whole situation feel more like a horror movie?
Going back to Liam Jones’ instagram, Emma finds a picture of him with Graham in a nature setting. With a squint and a zoom, she recognises the setting. She swipes to find a video with Graham’s voice from behind the camera and Liam Jones struggling but determined to take his next step.
“We’re currently on mile 5 of the Misthaven Trail,” Graham explains, a very faint hint of tiredness in his tone as he sweeps the camera over their surroundings and Emma can’t help the eerie feeling at the setting sun behind the trees. “As you can see, this area is beautiful and peaceful, a great place to be at one with yourself and your thoughts.” There’s a scoff from the right and Graham laughs, turning the camera to his friend. “Liam here is having some trouble.” He earns himself a glare from his companion. “There've been a lot of accidents in this area so this is your friendly reminder to be careful where you step and to respect the forest.”
“You’ve lectured every single lost or injured hiker we pulled out of these woods. Friendly, my arse.” Emma sucks in a breath at the sound of Liam Jones’ voice. Graham’s responding laughter and voice seems to sound from underwater as he defends himself.
Please, help me, plea-
It’s the same voice. She feels the tingle in her spine and the raised hairs on her arms she had before. How could it be possible?
Sounds of yelps outside have her jumping from her seat, her heart beating rapidly against her chest. Subsequent cheering reminds her of her whereabouts. It’s the kids reacting to the anthropomorphic house finally meeting its demise on the small screen. Emma grips onto the kitchen counter, taking deep steadying breaths.
She needs to have a chat with Killian Jones.
---
It’s rainy and gloomy the next day when Emma arrives at the hospital.
Maybe the weather’s a sign. It’s not like she was ever a superstitious person but it’s hard to remain sceptical after the day she’s had. The nurse tells her he’s in room 13. Of course.
In the corridor, she sees a familiar figure.
“I thought I told you to take the day off, Humbert.”
Emma almost grins when he startles. Almost. She simply crosses her arms as she stares him down. Graham looks away, as if he just got caught in the proverbial cookie jar, it’s a cute look.
“I am taking my day off, Emma,” Graham defends and she raises her eyebrow. “I didn’t ask him anything that could be related to the case. I just-”
“Wanted to see how your friend was,” she finishes for him.
Graham stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and nods. “I just needed to make sure he was okay.”
“Because Liam would have wanted you to do the same.”
He looks up at her with wide eyes and parted lips. This might have been the first time she’s shocked her deputy in the year they’ve worked together.
“H-how…?”
“I did some research last night.” She uncrosses her arms to stuff her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I found Killian Jones’ social media, which led me to Liam’s, to Belle’s and then to yours. You were his deputy.”
“The four of us bonded over being away from home.” He shrugs, trying to hide the heartache over the loss. “After Liam passed, it all fell apart.”
“I’d never seen Killian Jones in Storybrooke before today, or Belle French.”
“Killian left after the funeral, said something about a family member in Boston even though I’m sure they didn’t have any family in the States. He rejected all my calls, I had no way to find him.” Graham sighs, scratching his forehead. “Belle isolated herself the first few months. After that she would go from home to work and back. She’s been trying to go out more, determined to live her life the way Liam would have wanted her to. It’s still a slow process but at least she’s trying.”
“And here you are in the middle of everything trying to be there for everyone.”
“I didn’t lose a brother or a fiance, Emma, I’m fine.” He crosses his arms and she recognises the look on his face.
“Right, if you want me to be ‘bad cop’, I will,” she threatens.
“Seriously, Emma, I’m fine, it’s been a year and-”
“Graham,” she interrupts, holding up her hand. “Go see Dr. Hopper or I’m suspending you.”
He groans and yet, it feels like a victory. “Yes, boss.” He mockingly salutes and yet it still shows his respect.
“Go home and enjoy the rest of the day off while I go and talk to Mr. Jones.” Emma pats his arm and he nods.
“I told him to tell you everything he could remember,” Graham informs her. “I know you can do your job but he can be very stubborn so I just wanted to make it a little easier for you.”
“Thanks,” Emma smiles amusedly and watches as he walks past her. “Hey, Graham?” He stops in the corridor and she can’t hold back her curiosity. “Liam was the sheriff before me,” Graham shifts in his feet, uncomfortable. “Did you apply for the job? I’d think you’d be a shoe-in to be the next Sheriff as opposed to an outsider.”
“Nah,” He shrugs and she can actually see the weight on his shoulders. “It wouldn’t have felt right.” His lips curl up in a small smile, a grieving smile. “Besides, you are a great boss.”
Emma rolls her eyes but her smile is wide. “Get some rest and go see Dr. Hopper.”
“Yes, boss,” he repeats before he leaves the hospital wing all together.
With a deep steadying breath, Emma knocks at the door of room 13.
“Come in.”
She nods to herself before opening the door. “Mr. Jones, I’m-”
“Sheriff Emma Swan,” Killian Jones nods at her. “Graham told me you were coming. Didn’t expect you here so fast though.”
“As it happens, you’re my only open case.”
She stands a few feet from his bed, arms crossed as she finally takes a look at the man they saved the day before, now no-longer covered in blood and dirt. There is a bandage on his forehead all the way down to the temple, his face, neck and hands - the only things visible - filled with small scratches, and his leg is in a thick cast. He looks tired but okay.
He looks handsome too and she’s trying not to remember his boat pictures. It helps that the hospital gown and robe cover his chest and what she knows is underneath. She’s really trying.
“Why don’t you take a seat?” He gestures to the chair next to his bed, where she assumes Graham had been seated minutes prior. “We’re probably in for a long chat.”
She should refuse, keep him at a distance. She sits down but not before pulling the chair back a few inches. Emma catches an amused smile on his lips and she wonders what else Graham told him about her. She clears her throat focusing on being professional.
“Alright, Mr. Jones-”
“Please, call me Killian.”
Emma nods, trying to look away from the soft smile he directed at her. “Killian.” His smile grows. Professional, Emma. “Do you remember what happened before we found you?”
“Aye,” It’s his turn to clear his throat at the wavering tone of his voice. “The ground slid out from under me and I fell, hit my head and broke my leg.”
His tone was distant, factual, and it sounded wrong in his voice. “What were you doing in that part of the woods?”
“I-uh, I went there to drink.”
“We didn’t find any evidence of alcoholic beverages and your blood alcohol levels were very low.” She raises her eyebrow at his half-truth. “Let me tell you a little secret.” She leans forward, her elbows on her knees. “I-”
“Have a thing with lies.” There is a small smile on his lips at Emma’s surprised expression. “Graham told me about that.”
“Right.” It takes her a second to recover from the surprise. “If you know, why don’t we avoid lying or, in this case, omitting part of the story and you tell me the truth.”
“Commanding, I like it.” He smirks weakly and at the roll of her eyes, he nods in preparation, his expression turning serious. “I was there to mourn my brother, Liam.”
“Why not go to the cemetery? I’m sure you’ve heard how dangerous that part of the woods is.”
“That’s where he died,” His voice is low and she can only just hear it over the beeping of the machines. “Graham and the others found his body wrapped around on a rock in the river the next morning. He’d bled out during the night.”
“So he got injured the day before? How did no one notice he was gone for so long?” She doesn’t mean for her voice to sound accusing but from the guilty self-punishing look in Killian’s face, that’s how he would describe it.
“A few weeks before he passed, I went through a break-up,” he sighs, settling carefully on the pillows at his back and Emma does the same on the cushioned chair. “I had fallen in love with a married woman.” She tries to contain her surprise and apprehension but it’s like he can see everything she tries to hide. “I know, I got an earful from my brother when we started dating. But she promised that she was going to divorce her husband as soon as she could find a good lawyer so she could guarantee a joint custody deal.”
“She has a child?”
He nods and his frown is enough for her to understand his conflict. “We kept it a secret. We didn’t want to do anything that would jeopardise her relationship with her son. Liam kept telling me how reckless I was being, how naive, but I kept shutting him down. I was in love.” He shrugs. “After a while he stopped trying and I was happy.”
“Her husband found out.” It wasn’t a question.
“I got greedy, selfish,” Killian’s tone turns hard, self-loathing. “We went to a cafe in town and she was nervous but I was happy, I was out in public with the love of my life.” He shakes his head with a scoff. “Her husband walked in with her son right behind him and I considered it luck that the cafe was almost empty. The boy came up to us first, asking his mom why she was there and who I was. I didn’t know what to say and her husband was looking at me like he wanted to kill me.” Killian sighs. “She asked me to leave and that she would talk to me later.”
“I’m assuming it didn’t go well.”
He actually laughs, a sharp, terrible sound. “I had gotten myself into a state when she finally met me. We yelled at each other, she accused me of pushing, I accused her of playing with my feelings. When she finally told me that she almost lost her son because of me, I shut up. She told me she was going to go back to her husband, that he was willing to take her back after the stupid mistake she made and then she left.” He finishes with a sigh and Emma leans back on her chair, overwhelmed. “I didn’t take it well.”
“Who would?”
His chuckle brings her eyes back to his and despite the pain behind them, there’s an amused glint in the blue eyes that definitely do not get captured well in pictures. “For the next few weeks, I started drinking. A lot. I didn’t want to see Liam’s disappointment or self-righteousness so I distanced myself. That day, he barged into my house, took one look at the half-empty bottle in my hand and went off on me.” He shifts in his bed, hissing when his leg moves wrong. “I can see now that he was scared but at that moment I was angry. We argued and I told him that I never wanted to see him again and he left my house.”
“Is that why no one filed a missing persons report?”
He nods and his eyes water. “I drank the whole night after he left and the next day, I woke up to someone banging on my door. It was Belle.” His breath shudders. “She had been trying to call him all morning. Liam had told her that he would be coming to my place so she thought he’d stayed the night, when he didn’t text her or call her the next morning, she started to get worried. That fear, the feeling that someone had gone wrong to someone you love, was the sharpest cure for a hangover I ever had.” They both shared a mirthless chuckle. “We called Graham right away and when he didn’t know where Liam was, it became a town wide search.” He takes a deep breath. “Graham found his car parked at Toll Bridge and searched through Misthaven Trail.”
“He fell.” Emma wrings her fingers as she watches the emotions in Killian’s face.
“He left his phone in the car so when he fell into the river, he couldn’t call for help.” He sniffs, staring at the wall in front of him. “So imagine my surprise when you and Graham showed up to my rescue despite the fact that I also left my phone in my car and no one knew I was even in town.” Killian turns to her, his eyes still full of pain but a curious small smile gracing his lips.
Emma tucks her hair behind her ear in a nervous move and leans back on the chair. “It’s like I told you yesterday, we received a call that helped us find you.”
“Right,” he frowns. “And as I just said, I left my phone in the car, so it’s impossible.”
She sighs. “I’m aware of that and, trust me, I’ve spent the whole night trying to figure it out and the only explanation I have is impossible.”
“Try me.”
Emma opens and closes her mouth a few times while Killian looks on patiently. “All our calls are recorded,” she says instead, pulling her phone from her pocket. “Before I came here, I went by the station to download the recording, so I’m just gonna play it for you.” Killian raises an eyebrow while Emma brings up the file.
“Sheriff Swan speaking.”
Static rings out from the speaker and she tenses up all over again. “Help, I-I fell-” Killian gasps and she gives in to his silent request and hands him the phone. “The cliff gave out. Can you hear me?”
“Uh, yes, yes, I can hear you, sir. Can you tell me where you fell?”
“I w-was on the Misthaven Trail, I-I think I broke my leg,” Killian’s eyes shine with tears at his brother’s voice, at his sounds of pain and Emma feels her chest tighten. “I can see the bone, I-”
Static plays up again and she is dreading the end of the call. “I can barely hear you, sir.” His knuckles turn white from where he is gripping the phone and a tear falls down his cheek. “Can you tell me precisely where on the trail?”
“The river, Shepherd River. I’m bleeding, please, help me, plea-”
Killian takes a shuddering breath when the recording ends and the phone drops on the bed. She should grab the phone and give him space. She should ask him questions about it. And yet, Emma finds herself grabbing his trembling hand with hers, her whole skin tingling at the touch. He grips her hand back tighter, forcing himself to take deep breaths.
“H-How-,” he whispers in a broken tone. “That’s my brother’s voice but-but how is it possible?”
Killian looks at her, pleading for an answer, for an explanation. But she can’t give him one. Emma shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know.” Her thumb moves unconsciously over his knuckles. “But if it wasn’t for this call, we wouldn’t have found you.”
To her surprise, Killian starts to laugh even as tears fall down his face, a disbelieving sound. “I can’t believe this.” He covers his face with his free hand and Emma squeezes his hand, silently asking for clarification. He sighs and looks at her, his eyes bluer than they’d been before. “I ran away after the funeral, they had barely finished covering the casket and I was crossing the town line. I knew Belle needed me to stay, Graham too, we should have mourned together, helped each other during this but I-I-”
“You blamed yourself.”
He exhales a laugh. “Aye, stupidly tried to find answers at the bottom of a bottle once again. I just kept replaying our last argument, kept seeing him bleeding out in the river and I knew I couldn’t grieve when I knew it was my fault.”
Emma opens her mouth to protest but Killian raises his hand, stilling the words she still wasn’t sure she would say. “After a night where I was almost inducted into this woman’s witchy cult,” and she really wishes she had the chance to ask about that, “I looked for help. Found a therapist, grieved. A week ago, I told him about the anniversary of Liam’s death coming up and he suggested I visit his grave, talk to him, ask for forgiveness.” He sighs. “I was on my way to the cemetery when I found myself on the Toll Bridge. I thought it was a sign when I found the marker Graham made to honour Liam. I sat there and talked to him, I didn’t realise how much anger I still felt towards him dying, abandoning me.” He laughed sarcastically. “Ridiculous, I know. I threw my flask and I felt the ground slide from under me and I thought ‘there it is, your revenge, Liam, you’re finally punishing your killer’.”
“And then we showed up.”
“And I thought that maybe you had appeared for a reason and now hearing that?” He looks at her embarrassed, shaking his head. “I sound like a crazy person but-”
“I thought I was crazy,” Emma interrupts him with a reassuring smile. “Common sense would have you think the call was a prank. But from the moment I got the call, my instincts told me something wasn’t right, that there was more to the story.”
“I’m really glad you decided to go with your instinct, then,” he smiles softly. “If you hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have made it.”
“But you did.” She squeezes his hand and they both seem to remember that their hands are still clasped together. She doesn’t let go and neither does he. “And if we are to believe in ghost stories, your brother is adamant that you get a second chance.”
They lock eyes, share a soft smile and she figures professionalism has been thrown out the window from the moment she took his hand. He nods and his smile widens. She kinda wishes they could hold hands forever.
Wait, what?
“You may be right.” His voice is soft and it feels like he’s trying to look inside her, searching. “He’d probably beat up the side of the head that it took me this long to get my head out of my own arse.”
Emma chuckles and his smile widens. “I don’t think he expected you to break your leg and your head to get the message across.”
“Well,” his lips curve into a side smirk and she’s not ready for it, “I’m guessing that the service in the afterlife is a little spotty.” She laughs, surprised at his joke, and he laughs with her. Nope, she was not ready. “My brother always gave me good advice, maybe I should follow this last one too and take that second chance he gave me.”
“Oh?”
Her heart hammers against her chest at the way he looks at her. He opens his mouth to answer when the room door bursts open.
“Killian Jones!”
Emma jumps from her seat, refusing to acknowledge how empty her hand feels now that it’s no longer holding his, to make space for the shorter brunette storming up to Killian’s bed.
Belle French.
“I haven’t heard from you in a whole year and then I have Graham calling me to tell me you’re in the hospital?!”
But Killian only smiles, clearly happy to see his would-be sister-in-law despite the guilt beginning to take root in his eyes. “I’m so happy to see you, Belle.” And it’s clear that the simple sentence breaks something in the librarian’s being. With two quick strides, she embraces him tightly. “Careful, love, I’m an invalid now,” he complains, even as his arms hold her closer, willing to ignore any pain it might be causing him.
“You’re in a world of trouble, Killian.”
His smile only widens and he turns to look at Emma, likely amused at the overwhelmed look on her face. Belle seems to realise that there’s someone else in the room - not that Emma blames her - and turns to her.
“Oh, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you, I-”
“No need to apologise,” Emma raises her hand to stop the apology. “I just needed to take Mr. Jones’ testimony.” He raises an eyebrow at her use of his last name, clearly unimpressed by her choice to be professional. “Sheriff Emma Swan,” she introduces herself before holding out her hand.
“Belle French.” Belle takes her hand, still somewhat surprised as she looks between Killian and her. “Is he in some kind of trouble then?” Her expression seems ready for a fight and Killian’s smile seems to grow.
“No, no,” Emma is quick to appease. “I just needed the full story, that’s all.” She stuffs her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. “I actually should go write up the report.” She takes a few steps back towards the door. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss French. Get better soon, Mr. Jones.”
She starts to walk out the door. “Emma,” Killian calls and she really should not have turned around so fast. “Maybe we can grab a coffee when I get discharged? You can tell me all about safety measures when hiking.”
Emma tries to ignore Belle’s curious expression. “I think Graham might be the better man for the job.”
“He’s been trying for years, it never stuck,” He grins and there’s only so much a girl can be expected to take. “Maybe you’ll have more luck.”
She bites her lip and focuses on the hopeful look in his eyes. The last time she trusted someone, that she gave someone a chance, she ended up in prison. She should say no.
Maybe she can justify this leap on supernatural activity too?
“It’s a date.”
The way his grin lights up a whole room does feel otherworldly.
Just as the door closes behind her, she hears Belle’s stupefied voice.
“Killian Jones, you have a lot of explaining to do.”
Emma laughs. Maybe not all ghost stories have to have bad endings.
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CS Fic Rec Monday: "Ruff Night" by: @exhaustedpirate
Oh my goodness!! This week's rec just completely charmed me, and I've already read it three times!! I realize it's Halloween-themed since trick-or-treating and costuming play a major role in this, but it's going to be fun to read and enjoy any time of year, truly.
@exhaustedpirate does a brilliant job with the Charming-Swan-Jones family dynamics (incredibly sweet and funny in turns! :) the CaptainCobra dynamics are heartfelt and AMAZING, and she makes use of a wonderful old-school Disney villain that the show itself never used.
I couldn't get it out of my head, so I even attempted a little cover art/banner of sorts for it. (Hope you'll like it @exhaustedpirate) And if you haven't read this one yet, definitely check it out.
"Ruff Night" by: @exhaustedpirate
#csfrm#cs fic rec monday#autumn bingo prompt fics#ruff night#capatain cora feels#cs one shot#charming family ff#major cs fic rec#such a talented shipmate#@exhaustedpirate
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WIP Game
RULES: Post the names of the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous (mine are not going to be funny or cool but, oh, well, here goes). Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Tag as many people as you have WIPs! (I am also not doing that 'cause I don't want to die either, thanks!)
-- -- --
I was tagged by the lovely @exhaustedpirate!
Also, I don't really sort my WIPs into folders so, instead, I'll organize them here by main universe/ship, since that's how I'd organize them into folders if I ever used them.
Also, asterisks means that I've started posting them; no asterisks mean that I had some degree of self-control and have not (yet)
-- -- --
Once Upon a Time (Captain Swan): - Life is a Storm*
Once Upon a Time (non-Captain Swan): - The Aletheian Chalice*
Good Omens (Ineffable Husbands): - To Fall in Flames* - Legally Ineffable*
Walking Dead (Caryl): - Ed Had to Die*
Supernatural (Destiel): - Sweet Revenge* - Our Love is God
MDZS/Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation/The Untamed - XiCheng fic apparently because jezebel is a rude problem child (and my boys are lonely :(((( )
Stranger Things (Steddie+): - Aperture* - Fight For Me (plz do I need help)
Doctor Who: - Midnight fic because the Hostess deserved better
And I shall tag the people with whom I interact most: @typicalopposite, @witchy-writer-lady, and @rightpastnowhere!
#that's less than i thought actually#i owe you great thanks btw @exhaustedpirate#this helped me organize my thoughts wonderfully
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JAMIE DORNAN AS GRAHAM HUMBERT -once upon a time (2011-2018) requested by @exhaustedpirate
#onceuponatimeedit#ouat graphic#grahamhumbertedit#graham humbert#jamiedornanedit#jamie dornan#userstream#dailytvfilmgifs#dilfgifs#myedit#userstorybrooke#once upon a time
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And we ALSO today have a brand new fic from @zaharadessert !!!!! Forget Me Not, with art by @exhaustedpirate !!! Enjoy and be sure to give them lots of love!!!
Forget Me Not
Prologue
Prologue
The village of Storybrooke is as unremarkable as any number of villages in the English countryside. It has a pub, a church, a post office and a village green. But one summer a little boy and his mother come to stay, and suddenly some remarkable things start to happen...
Mature, for now.
No idea of length yet because it's not done, but I'm already late putting this up!
Thank you to the @cssns Mods for running this, I like to think that the event won't be over until all the fics are completed, so I'm doing what I can to keep this event alive... And thank you to the wonderful @exhaustedpirate for the lovely mood board!
Have the prologue for now, and the rest when I'm done writing!
Thank you all in advance for your support! Love you all xxx
@kmomof4 @teamhook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandonfanatic @undercaffinatednightmare
@anmylica @elfiola @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @motherkatereloyshipper
@xarandomdreamx @myfearless-love @lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @xhookswenchx
@wefoundloveunderthelight @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s
@captainswan21 @spaceconveyor @pirateprincessofpizza @sparlecorn93 @hollyethecurious
As always, let me know if you’d like me to add you to my taglist for future fics :)
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kiss me goodbye, i'm defying gravity (several sentence sunday)
"So Daddy's up there?" Teddy asks, pointing at the sky. Not for the first time, Tommy wishes LA wasn't so polluted and crowded that they could see the stars. "Yeah bug, Daddy's up there," Tommy says, smoothing down the hazard blond curls that make his heart ache whenever he sees them. "Maybe if you wave, he can see you." Evan won't, but Theodore doesn't know that, and Tommy's desperate to bring comfort to his child who misses Evan just as much as he does.
tagging: @diazsdimples @theotherbuckley @tommykinard @actuallyitsellie @kinardsevan
@bidisasterevankinard @cafe-con-letty @desert--moonchild @bucktommyscones @bibibibuckleykinard
@lfjho @laundryandtaxesworld @tommiroccia @kinkykinard @kinard-buckley
@cinderellarhea @drcloyd @livelaughbuck @exhaustedpirate @geniusjester
@mayorjack @herrmannhalsteadproduction @itsametaphorok @keyweegirlie @kinardjr
@mintedwitcher @notacyborg @ohheyitsthatlfjrfan @prettyasadiagram @renytherat
@reyesranch @tiltingheartand @whentheresidentsareevil @wikiangela @pluvio-lj
#911 abc#911#evan buckley#bucktommy#tommy kinard#sunny’s works#astronaut au#evan buckley is a astronaut#bucktommy dads#bucktommy married#theodore kinard
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Part 1 here Part 2 here
@teabroomsandbooks @exhaustedpirate @bornunderabluemoonbaby @azaharinflames @adian-ua
Buck couldn't blame Amir for looking so agitated. He had heard similar claims from people during calls and always felt his own internal alarms go off...
But this was different.
He had proof.
"Mr. Buckley," Amir sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before crossing his arms, already on the defense. He had pulled Buck into the charge nurse's office since the other staffers were intrigued and invested in hearing how Buck was involved. "I'm not saying I don't believe you, but answer me this. You donated your sperm via the appropriate channels so that Mr. and Mrs. Johnson could have a child, correct?"
Buck nodded, his attention half taken away as he scrolled through his phone for the proof that he did in fact donate his sperm.
"Y-yeah."
"So in that case, I would hope that you and the Johnsons created and went through the proper legal channels when in came to defining your role in all this, is that also correct?"
Buck froze, he looked up and realized what Amir was asking.
He swallowed down the lump in his throat, he refused to cry but he could feel his eyes burn already in frustration. A part of him wanted to lie, but he knew how easy that would be for others to unravel.
"I-We-we did." He admitted gruffly, holding his phone tightly as Amir gave him a empathetic look.
"So is it safe to assume that you gave up your paternal right to their child and that you hold no responsibility to their child? Be it financially, emotionally, medically, and most importantly, legally?" Amir asked, his voice not as biting. He looked understanding.
Buck nodded, arms dropping to his side as he felt his adrenaline finally seep out of his muscles. He just felt tired. "I-I know I'm not anything to Daniel, not really. But-can't I see him? You and the other nurses mentioned that Daniel's family might not even make it to pick him up before CPS is called? Can't I- I don't know, can't i request to be made his emergency placement foster parent?" Buck begged, looking desperately at Amir for hope.
The older man looked flummoxed at that, Buck figured it didn't hurt to ask.
"Listen," Amir patted Buck's shoulder, "I can tell you care a lot about this child, and I want to believe you're a good person, but I don't want to give you false hope that-"
A knock and the door opening got their attention, "Amir?"
A tall woman with honey blond hair and dark rimmed glasses looked at them both. She wasn't wearing scrubs, Buck noticed, but did have a hospital ID.
"Hey Anita." Amir looked over at Buck, his expression grim as he introduced Anita Hernandez to Buck, the supervising social worker for the pediatric floor. "This is Evan Buckley." he cleared his throat, "He's the boyfriend of the first responder that rescued Daniel Johnson. He also happens to be the biological parent for Daniel." Amir noted dryly.
Buck watched Anita look taken back by all that as she went in to shake Buck's hand. "I'm going to guess you have the appropriate documents or some sort of proof to show you're his father?"
Buck gritted his teeth momentarily, "That's the thing, I'm not the dad I'm the-"
"The donor," Amir finished, looking between them with a unreadable expression. "Mr. Buckley has signed away his parental rights to Daniel but was wondering if he could be considered as an emergency placement."
Anita frowned at that, "No." she answered without hesitation, her expression barely softened as she told Buck, "I'm sure you understand that the Johnsons' do have family that have been contacted in regards to Daniel."
"Doesn't sound like that they are here yet." Buck retorted, trying to keep his patience and hope at a manageable level. He didn't miss the side eye from Anita, "Look, I know that I don't have any legal grounds here or anything, but I'm a firefighter, I know Connor and Kameron, I lived with Connor even. I just want to make sure Daniel doesn't go to some random person if his family doesn't come in time to get him. I have my own place, I've done background checks with my job and I even went through the classes to become certified as a backup since my friend and her wife were foster parents. I have all the documents to prove that too"
Anita looked unmoved by that despite saying, "Mr. Buckley, as touched as I am by all this," she put her hand over her heart to further emphasize her words, "We do need to follow protocol here, Daniel's family has been contacted and we trust that a family member will be here to retrieve him."
"But-"
"In the case they don't make it here in time, then please know that we are well versed in what steps we need to take in order to make sure Daniel is safe and taken care of by a vetted foster parent."
Buck rubbed his faced tiredly, shaking his head in frustration as he tried to clarify, "Look, I'm not trying to take Daniel away or anything, I just want to make sure he's safe. I know Connor and Kameron wouldn't want their kid to be placed in foster care."
Anita nodded, "I'm sure no parent wants their child to be placed in foster care, Mr. Buckley. And as for now that's not the case."
Before Buck could say something else, Amir jumped in. "Is there a chance that Mr. Buckley can be considered as a placement in the case no family shows?" he asked, Buck couldn't help but notice Anita's glare towards Amir darken.
"I'm not making any promises, and considering there's no documentation proving Mr. Buckley's relationship to the parents, I doubt a placement can occur without taking hours."
Buck didn't want to give up, he didn't want to. He didn't want to lose Daniel like this.
"Can you at least tell me if his family shows?"
Anita rolled her eyes, "That's out of my hands." she glanced at her watch, "I need to meet with my supervisees." She looked over at Amir, "We'll talk soon."
Amir nodded and held the door open for her and Buck.
Buck felt dejected and more helpless as he tried to figure out what and if there was anything he could do. He knew he had to be careful here, Anita and Amir were right about one thing: he knew he had no claims on Daniel, not legally.
He wasn't the dad, just the donor.
But Daniel needed him as much as Buck needed him right now.
-
Buck was sure he had a heart.
Buck was sure he was capable of breathing.
He was so sure.
Before he saw Tommy, and now?
Now he could barely gasp for air. He was too afraid to even touch Tommy now.
He knew that Tommy was his ex. But he still wanted to touch him. Buck needed to know that Tommy was still there, still warm and strong.
His hand hovered over Tommy's chest, thankful that Tommy was at least breathing on his own now. The top of his head was bandaged up, he had a cast on his leg and he looked like he had something wrapped around his hips since there was bulk around his middle. Tommy was covered in bruises as well as stiches and bandages on his arms, neck, and face (those were just the places Buck could see). He bent over Tommy, gingerly touching his curls. Despite his brain screaming "Don't do it!", Buck gently brushed his lips against Tommy's forehead. He wanted to say something; how much Tommy meant to him, how much he missed Tommy, how grateful he was to Tommy was saving Daniel. He wanted to beg too, beg Tommy to come back to him, to wake up, to open his eyes again.
But all the words felt too much and felt too overwhelming to say. He gulped down a sob but knew it was useless.
He brushed away the tears that ended up falling on Tommy's face and hand.
A part of him knew this would be time in where he would call Maddie, Eddie, or Bobby. But he couldn't. A part of Buck felt like he couldn't call them, not now at least. It wasn't like they could anything anyway. They couldn't give Buck wanted he wanted the most.
He just wanted Tommy.
Awake and healthy and safe Tommy.
Buck pulled a chair as close as he could to Tommy's bed, careful to not lean or pull on a wire or cord, but close enough that he could keep brushing his fingers through Tommy's hair.
He wasn't sure how long it was just them in that small room, with the only sound was the murmur of the people outside the room and the beeping of the heart monitor.
it was just the two of them in their bubble...
"Mr. Buckley?"
Buck jolted in his seat, the voice was soft and low but the person attached to the voice somehow came into the room without Buck noticing.
Buck looked up to see short woman with a mass of bronze curls, she looked nervous but resolute as Buck peered at her hospital badge. Claudia Perez, pediatric social worker.
Buck stood up, "Uh, yes?"
"Want to take a walk?"
-
"Listen," Claudia starts as she leads Buck down to the pediatric floor, her voice carefully steady but her eyes were filled with the type of nervous energy that made Buck pay close attention to what she was saying, "I know you don't have any legal rights to Daniel, but right now he's inconsolable- he's afraid and he misses his parents, I'm worried we're just traumatizing him more if we don't bring him to his parents or Tommy."
"He's really asking for Tommy?" Buck asked, his voice cracking as he stopped in his tracks.
Claudia stopped to turn to him, giving him a sad look. "It makes sense, Tommy did save him, twice from what I heard. He trauma bonded to that man. I think at this point it's either we send him to his parents; which we can't. Or we bring him to his "Tummy". But since I can't do either, I can at least bring you to him." she stopped right at a door with a colorful green board that read D. Johnson, Buck could already hear Daniel's cry. "And I think he needs you as much as you need him right now. Am i right?"
Buck felt his words catch in his throat, he could only nod as Claudia opened the door and led them into the room.
Daniel.
Daniel looked just like Buck.
How Daniel looked in that picture.
It felt too surreal for Buck.
Buck felt numb all over, not even registering that Daniel was still crying as Claudia ushered out two sitters out of the room.
Claudia tried to comfort the young toddler, but Daniel only screamed harder, his cries drowning out Claudia trying to introduce Buck to him.
Buck wasn't so sure what he was doing, but he felt himself going on autopilot as he pulled out his phone. Scrolling through his camera roll till he found the picture that still made his heart flutter.
"Hey Daniel," he showed the toddler the picture of him and Tommy- the time in where they went to the zoo just for fun and bought matching elephant and hippo ear headbands. The picture was of the two of them wearing the headbands and their laughter barely contained as they leaned into each other for the picture. "Who is that?" he asked,
He caught the moment in where Daniel recognized Tommy.
The young boy reached out for the phone, "Tummy!" he cried, a sliver of a frenzied laugh/cry from Daniel made Buck nearly sob again. "That's Tummy."
"Yeah," Buck wiped away his own tears, "That's Tommy." he scrolled to the next picture- the picture of Tommy wearing both headbands as Buck made a face as he sat behind Tommy to wrap an arm around Tommy's neck. "He's my friend, he and I are both firefighters." he told the young boy. "Do you want to see more pictures of Tommy?"
Daniel nodded.
His next move made Buck's heart lurch, the young boy stretched out his arms, signaling for Buck to pick him up.
Buck looked at Claudia, wanting to make sure it was okay.
The woman gave him small smile and a thumbs up.
"C'mon buddy." Buck cooed as he picked up Daniel and sat him on his lap, "I've got a bunch of Tommy stories to share."
It wasn't a great idea, but it was an idea that in the end made Buck and Daniel feel better.
They were back in Tommy's room, Claudia had managed to sneak them back down again. She warned Buck that she had to stay with them in the case they were found out but it was worth it, Daniel had stopped crying since coming into the hospital.
He didn't cry when he saw he saw Tommy finally.
("We can't let him see his parents, can we?" Buck asked, already knowing the answer.
Claudia's expression and answer were both grim, "Tommy would be way less traumatic for Daniel.")
"Tummy hurt?" Daniel asked, his chubby finger pointing at Tommy as Buck carried him, rubbing his back in comfort as Daniel looked close to tears again.
"Yeah, buddy." Buck replied honestly, "But he's going to get better, he just needs to sleep." he sat down in his previous spot, with Daniel in his lap. "He's going to be okay, I promise."
Daniel touched the back of Tommy's hand. "Hi Tummy."
Buck would probably never stop tearing up now. "He's your hero, huh?"
Daniel nodded.
"Mine too." Buck confessed, he pulled out his phone again. "You know when he wakes up, I bet he'll show you how to fly a helicopter or a plane. He likes flying." Buck explained, he showed the toddler the picture of Tommy and his helicopter, Tommy in the pilot's seat, Tommy and Buck standing in front of the helicopter. "Would you want to-"
It seems as though sleep had finally caught up with Daniel.
He remembered the time Bobby had compared having kids to having one's heart walk outside their body.
Seeing Daniel cuddle into his arms and sleep against his chest was definitely like that.
Daniel was even grasping the front of Buck's shirt as though he was afraid of Buck leaving him.
"Looks like you and Tommy were just the people he needed." Claudia said in awe as she watched Buck pull Daniel closer, careful to not wake the young boy.
"Y-yeah, i guess so."
Daniel had managed to sleep for at least two hours, with Buck nodding off for an hour himself.
By the time they both woke up, Claudia had managed to snag them both a tray of food and cartoons of apple juice.
A small part of Buck knew what this was.
This wasn't real.
Daniel wasn't his kid, not really.
And Tommy wasn't his boyfriend.
But it was too easy for Buck to see himself having all this.
He had nearly tricked himself into thinking he had it till he showed a picture of Connor and Kameron to Daniel, causing the young boy to softly exclaim "Daddy!" as he pointed to Connor.
"Yeah, that's-that's daddy." Buck agreed, a bit uneasy and guilt stricken as the image and idea of him, Daniel, and Tommy being (possibly) an actual family fizzled.
It wasn't improbable.
It was just unattainable.
But at one point he had imagined him and Tommy having kids. Doing the whole house, picket fence, and 2.5 kids.
He was sure Tommy wanted the same.
Tommy wanted a family.
Buck wanted a family...
"And who's that?" Buck asked, feigning enthusiasm, as he pointed to Kameron.
"Mommy." Daniel replied happily and touching the screen.
"You're such a smart kid." Buck cooed, hugging Daniel carefully (the kid was still healing as well). "And who's that?" Buck asked, pointing to a picture of Tommy.
"Tummy!"
"Right! And who's this?" Buck pointed to a picture of himself
"Buck!"
(Just Buck.)
Buck forced himself to smile, he gave Daniel a high five, "You're right again, you're so smart."
Daniel smiled brightly, it was too eerily similar to Buck's smile.
A knock at the door had Claudia and Buck on alert, before they could do anything the door opened.
"Bobby?" Buck was taken back as Bobby and Amir came into the room. "What are you doing here?" he asked, getting up as he carried Daniel in his arms.
Bobby looked as though was assessing the situation, his eyes falling on Tommy before shifting back to Buck and Daniel. Buck knew that Bobby was more taken back by the kid.
"Amir called me."
"How did-"
Bobby looked momentarily uncomfortable, "We had a case together. When you said you were firefighter, Amir called me to ask if i knew you." he pointed to Daniel, "Who's kid is that?"
Amir cut in before Buck could reply, his voice gruff as he looked at Claudia and Buck and asked, "The better question, why is the kid here?"
Next part
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The best enemies to lovers
It's quite simple, but I like the idea
Tag people who may be interested: @killianxswan @teamhook @booksteaandtoomuchtv @exhaustedpirate @anmylica @hollyethecurious @kmomof4 @winterbaby89 @undercaffinatednightmare @resident-of-storybrooke @caught-in-the-filter @tiganasummertree @stahlords @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @jrob64 @beckettj @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @zaharadessert @bluewildcatfanatic @once-upon-a-happy-end @ultraluckycatnd @qualitycoffeethings @deckerstarblanche
#captain swan#killian jones#emma swan#captain hook#once upon a time#ouat#once upon a time edit#ouat edit#laianely's edits
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tease tidbit tuesday
tagged by @bidisasterevankinard 🫶🏾
December 1989
Tommy laid on the couch, with his head on Isabella’s lap as Melissa paced around worriedly and Robert, Melissa’s boyfriend, was on the phone.
“It’s going to be okay Tommy, just take deep breaths.”
“The ambulance will be here soon,” Robert said. Tommy tried to take deep breaths but it felt like his lungs were on fire.
“Mhmm,” Tommy closed his eyes tightly trying to stave off the pain in his lungs.
“Please, try and take a breath for me Tommy,” Isabella begged as she carded her fingers through Tommy’s hair.
np tags: @quintessenceofdust88 @perfectlysunny02 @peppermintquartz @unhingedangstaddict @swagmaster9k
@30somethingautisticteacher @weewookinard @wikiangela @merrylou-mas @exhaustedpirate @silversky9
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CSSNS Get to Know Me!
Please welcome @exhaustedpirate to the CSSNS!
How long have you been in the CS/OUAT fandom?*
Since 2013 officially.
When did you start shipping Captain Swan?
Episode 5 of season 2, 15 minutes and 34 Seconds in.
What drew you to this event?
The opportunity to share my work with other like-minded people and the fact that it provides me with the motivation to write.
What inspired your topic?
Watching the pilot episode of The Mandalorian and realising I could turn into a CaptainCobraSwan work - which is, as previous works can prove, my favourite relationship dynamic to write.
If you would like to share a snippet/sneak peek/summary of your fic or artwork, please use the space below.
"Where do you suppose we ought to go, lad?" "The fairies had always told me to 'follow the swan'." The child seemed to be more focused on the savoury pastry than on him. Killian couldn't blame him. "The swan? I'm guessing you don't happen to have a pet swan, then?" That seemed to catch Henry's attention as he snorted in surprise. It made Killian smile involuntarily. "No! Where would I carry it?" In a fit of giggles, he almost dropped his pastry. He tried to tame his own laughter but found himself unable to - the boy was charming. "Alright, alright." Killian attempted to sober him up in a mock chiding tone. "Then where do you propose we find ourselves a swan to follow?" "I don't know. I've never met a swan." Henry chuckles. "They didn't give you other clues?" "Nope, they just kept saying 'follow the swan'. 'Remember, Henry, follow the swan'." He spoke as if it was something he had heard too many times, which he guessed it was. (Think "The Mandalorian" in a fantasy setting by someone who's never watched the show).
What are you looking forward to most about participating in this event?
Finalising my project and reading everyone's entries!
Mandalorian/CS Mashup and CaptainCobraSwan! Sounds amazing! @exhaustedpirate will be dropping their fic on August 14th!
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12 (Actually 13 14) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!
HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!! I LIED!!!!
Sorta...
As I said on Day 1 of this fic rec series, the last 13 days have featured fics that are my comfort fics that I return to over and over and over again, but they are by no means the only fics and authors I love!!! So now, I'm reccing all the other authors that I love to read. Most of these authors are still active in fandom, but many have moved on. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this (REALLY) last day of my CS Fic Rec List and also find some new to you authors!!!
So without further ado, here we go!!!
@myfearless-love @jonesfandomfanatic @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked @wordsmith-storyweaver
@belovedcreation @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @goforlaunchcee @mie779
@xarandomdreamx @ohmakemeahercules @hookedonapirate @wefoundloveunderthelight @bromfieldhall
@4getfulimaginator2022 @eddisfargo @cs-rylie @exhaustedpirate @laianely
@kazoosandfannypacks @cosette141 @lenfaz @grimmswan @shady-swan-jones
@sotangledupinit @elizabeethan @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @veryverynotgoodwrites
@undercaffinatednightmare @motherkatereloyshipper @flslp87 @shireness-says @welllpthisishappening
@thesschesthair @pocket-anon @doodlelolly0910 @demisexualemmaswan @courtorderedcake
@ilovemesomekillianjones @duathadun @iamstartraveller776 @cocohook38 @kazoo5480
@stahlop @pirateherokillian @alexandralyman @everything-person @let-it-raines
@xerxes-rises @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @snidgetsafan @teamhook
@sailtoafarawayland @apiratewhopines @nachocheese-itsmycheese @justanother-unluckysoul @resident-of-storybrooke
@branlovestowrite @ohmightydevviepuu @swanslieutenant @beckettj @deckerstarblanche
@darkcolinodonorgasm @laschatzi @singingisfun @qqueenofhades @wyntereyez @caught-in-the-filter
And that is all I've got!! Merry Christmas everyone!!! For real this time!!!
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Ohhhhhhh, much perfect!!!! Thank you so much!!!
ring my bell
a little fix-it fic for that one scene in season 6 that needed to be handled better and without drama (aka 6x14) a big thanks to @ultraluckycatnd for being my beta!
rated T | 2679 words
also on AO3
summary: Maybe Killian has trained Emma too well. Maybe she doesn’t mind it so much.
Emma’s not human before her coffee. Her eyes are stuck somewhere between the end of the universe and the bottom of the sea. She can feel every pore on her skin and hear the walls whispering among them.
That’s maybe an exaggeration but no one should expect her to be alive before her coffee.
“Good morning, love.”
Not even her shirtless boyfriend can revive her and isn’t that a bigger sign than her vacant eyes? Killian chuckles behind her and she envies his ability to be so active so early in the morning. It’s nine in the morning but they only fell asleep around midnight, christening the new bed and all. Maybe Emma is becoming an old woman.
Killian places a cup of deliciously smelling coffee in front of her and she feels a kiss on her temple. She clutches the mug like it’s her only lifeline. The hot strong liquid coats her throat and connects some synapses in her brain, like the shocks of a defibrillator. Emma raises her head to look at Killian, a soft smile on her lips that he returns with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Good morning.” And really, what’s better than the soft kiss of the man you love? “How did you know?”
“Open book.” And he winks like he read it in her face that she needs coffee in the morning. “Breakfast?”
And that’s probably how it starts.
Killian moved in with her to the big house he and Henry chose. His sea chest almost empty at the end of the bed, his many books on the book shelves next to hers, his new modern clothes sharing the same space as hers and, best of all, his body sharing a bed with hers.
And every morning, after she shuffles down to the kitchen and plops down at the table, he’ll greet her with, “Good morning, love.” He’ll place a cup of coffee in front of her, kiss her temple and wait until she takes that first life-giving sip. He’ll wait until she looks up at him and smiles. “Good morning.” And then he’ll kiss her and offer her breakfast.
He adjusts when Henry stays over. Because her son takes after her, Killian now has two zombies at the kitchen table.
“Good morning, love,” There’s the thunk of a mug on the wooden table and a kiss to her temple. “Good morning, lad.” And another thunk followed by a rustle of brown hair.
Mother and son have a sip of coffee and hot cocoa, respectively, and turn up at the pirate. “Good morning.” They say in unison and Killian’s smile, that first time and all the subsequent mornings, is brighter than the summer sun coming from the window.
There’s still a kiss to her lips but also a soft pat to Henry’s shoulder and he still asks. “Breakfast?” And waits for their answer before returning to the stove.
It becomes instinct. Every morning, bar any unforeseen circumstances, she waits for the coffee cup to be placed in front of her after a loving greeting and for a kiss to her temple. A sip of her coffee and then a soft kiss to her lips. All followed by an amazing breakfast. She’s spoiled.
Maybe that’s why she notices something is wrong right away.
After her horrible trip to a universe created by a wish, she cherishes the return to the routine, to her cup of coffee and her amazing boyfriend. And it’s almost perfect.
“Good morning,” he says and places the coffee in front of her but there’s no weight of a kiss on her temple and when she takes a sip of the coffee, he isn’t there when she looks up to greet him, his back to her as he focuses on the stove, preparing them a delicious breakfast.
Then there’s no greeting, there’s a mug of coffee and a kiss but no smile and no kiss on her lips.
Then there’s none of it and the house is quiet when she wakes up, no pirate preparing coffee in the kitchen but a thoughtful man sitting on the living room couch, eyes on the un-lit fireplace and a dreamcatcher in his hand.
That’s a far rougher wake-up than a delicious coffee and a kiss on her lips. There’s a history to those entwined cords and beads, a bad history - a history of darkness and secrets. But she knows Killian, trusts him with her life.
Emma leans against the wall and takes a deep breath. “Good morning.”
Killian startles and his wide eyes find hers. “Emma,” he breathes out and stumbles to his feet, his bare feet and yesterday’s clothes, she notes and wonders if he ever went to bed last night - and beats herself up for being so exhausted that she didn’t notice. “I haven’t made your coffee. I’m sorry, love.”
He doesn’t look at her, his hand tightening its grip on the dreamcatcher as he tries to walk past her to the kitchen, his movements jerky and tortured. She stops him with a hand on his arm, the same arm that holds the cursed object in a shaky grip. “Killian…”
He looks at her then and she almost loses her breath at the emotions displayed in his eyes - he may consider her an open book, but she’s just as good reading him. But she sees the way his breathing changes, the way he wants to say it all, to tell her everything, but doesn’t know how.
So she doesn’t let him. Emma pulls him to the kitchen, makes him sit in her chair, takes the dreamcatcher from his hand and places it on the table. She sends out a thanks to the timer on the coffee machine before she pours the hot beverage into a mug. She places it in front of Killian and kisses him on the temple and ignores the smell of rum.
Slowly, he takes a sip from the coffee and looks up at her, the love and fear in his eyes making her breath catch. “Good morning,” he whispers and what else can she do except kiss him on his beautiful lips.
“Breakfast?” she asks.
“I don’t want to ruin it.”
“I’m the one making breakfast, Killian, you can be sure it’ll be ruined.” Her teasing tone is barely there, her need to deflect a difficult conversation with humor cemented by the intensity of his eyes.
“Emma…”
She can’t.
She goes back to the coffee machine to pour herself a coffee. “I’m guessing you were out with my dad until late, should I be worried?” She lets out a poor imitation of her laugh as she sits at the table taking a sip of her coffee. It only increases her anxiety.
“Emma.” His hand covers her free one and she stops.
She has to stop.
“What happened?” she asks in a blank tone, her heart prepared for the pain.
“I helped your father yesterday.” He is not looking at her, focused on the coffee in his mug but his hand is still over hers. She turns her hand around to hold onto his, a show of support but also to draw from his strength, his love. “The Evil Queen brought up his father’s disappearance and I helped him find out what really happened. We, uhm, we-” His eyes glance at hers and she sees shame. “We took magic from the shed. I distracted you while David went in.”
“Oh.”
Maybe she should be more hurt but she’s thankful to have an explanation for his strange behavior. Maybe she should be angry but he’s already feeling guilty enough as it is.
“I didn’t want your father to get into trouble on his own and he almost did, he-he found out who was the last person to see his father alive and he almost, he almost killed him. I saw the anger in his eyes and I recognised it.” His hand is gripping hers like a vice but she barely feels it, grateful that he feels comforted by her touch as she does his. “He got some closure, even if he didn’t find out what happened exactly.”
“That’s not why you haven’t slept all night.”
Killian shakes his head and takes a deep breath. He raises his head to look at her, his eyes resigned but determined. “The puppet, August, he brought me pages from the book, pages he had been so ashamed of that he ripped them from the book.” Emma nods, she remembers the evidence of that ripping. “Those pages they- they brought forth a memory. Emma, I-” His voice cracks and she places her other hand on top of his. “I killed David’s father.” His eyes were shining with unshed tears. “I’m the reason your father grew up without his.”
“Killian-”
“I-I didn’t even know who he was,” he continues, his eyes glazed over in memory and guilt. “He spoke of going back to his son and still, I-I killed him.”
“Killian.” One of her hands cups his cheek and she watches as he blinks away the haze, his eyes returning to the present, to her. “Breathe.”
His eyes are wide but still he obeys and takes a deep shaking breath and then another and another, each more stable than the previous. His eyes fall on the dreamcatcher between them and he sighs. “I wanted to get rid of it, that memory. I knew it would ruin all that I have tried to build here. Your father seemed content to let go of that ghost, he even gav-” He stops himself, his eyes glancing between hers, a secret hidden in his gaze - a different secret, one that gave him hope but a secret nonetheless - and she let him keep it. “I could have just gotten rid of it, spare all of us the pain but-”
“You don’t have the magic to make it work,” she finishes for him, her lips pressed tight.
“No,” he sighs, shame taking over the blue. “So I sat on that couch all night, thinking.”
She lets the silence rest between them for a moment. “You need to tell my dad.”
He looks at her then, his eyes wide with fear and panic. “Emma, I-”
“He’ll forgive you, Killian.” She wipes her thumb over the apple of his cheek. “He’s the only one who can.”
“What if he doesn’t forgive me? What if he can’t bear to see my face again? What if he takes back his blessing?” He rambles on as he removes his hand from her grip and runs it over his already disheveled hair and Emma tries to contain her surprise at his slip of the tongue. “What if this is the thing that destroys all the happiness I found?”
His eyes are desperate and panicked and she decides to let his accidental revelation pass by. “I don’t know, Killian,” she confesses, her tone reassuring and her hand laying over his brace. “All I know is that I love you and I’ll be by your side in this.”
“No.” He shakes his head and tries to move away from her touch but she doesn’t let him. “I can’t let you do that. He’s your father and I was the villain who destroyed his family, I-”
“But that’s it, isn’t it?” Her lips tick up in a small smile, a smile meant to ease his worry. “You were a villain but you’ve changed so much. You died to save us, Killian, and we’ll never forget that.”
His eyes are wide in wonder, this time, his lips parted. “How can you be so calm over this? How can you stay by my side when I’ve fucked everything up?”
“I love you,” she shrugs. “And we’ve fucked things up before. I killed you, babe,” she laughs self-deprecatingly, ignoring the still regular nightmares over that night. “At this point, there’s nothing else we can do except face the consequences.”
He is quiet as he looks into her eyes and she knows that he’ll see nothing but love and trust. “I love you, Emma Swan.” His hand finds her jaw and he pulls her into a soft, loving kiss and her morning finds its balance. “I’m going to talk to your father right now.”
Killian stands at once and she almost laughs at his determination. “Actually, babe?” She stops him with a hand on his. “You should take a shower first.” Her nose scrunches up and she presses her lips together as he smells himself.
“Right.” His cheeks grow red. “Thank you, my love.” He kisses her temple, a hard push against her skin, showing her his gratitude in a way other than words.
She has a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her by the time he rushes down the stairs. He almost skitters to a stop at the doorway and turns to her, anxiety in his eyes and pages clutched in his fist. Spearing a generous forkful of eggs, she holds back her grin at the way he thankfully takes her held out fork.
“You’re going to be okay.”
He nods at her vow of confidence and his grip on the paper loosens. There is another moment of silence before he makes his way out of the house. Despite her confidence, she shares his nerves.
It takes time. Everything takes time.
But, soon, there is a zombified Emma plopping down on the kitchen chair, a handsome pirate wishing her a good morning, a cup of coffee, a kiss on the head and, finally, a revived Emma can wish him a good morning as well and they can share a kiss. There is a lovely breakfast that they share and make them ready to face the day.
Balance is restored and the bonds of their family are made stronger.
The next time the routine falters - a small delay, a burning of breakfast, a rushed kiss - she is less surprised. Less worried. Because she knows why, what she doesn’t know is when.
Emma blames her lack of coffee as the reason why she doesn’t notice him sitting down next to her after giving her a coffee, she doesn’t notice the way he fumbles with a velvet box in his lap. Doesn’t notice it until she’s kissed him good morning and his eyes go to his lap. About time.
“I wanted to make it special, something incredibly grand and too convoluted to reflect my love for you,” Killian says and his voice is filled with nerves. When he looks at her, his eyes are filled with that love she knows so well because it’s reflected on hers along with their unshed tears. “This is where we’re building our future, our happy ending, and it felt right to do it here. After you’ve had your coffee, of course.”
They share a watery laugh and her hand finds his right wrist, hoping to give him the courage to say what he wants to say, to say what she wants to hear. Killian takes a deep breath and she does the same, in preparation, in quiet excitement.
“Emma Swan, you are the loveliest being I’ve ever met in the morning, in the afternoon, in the evenings and at night.” His lips tick up in a trembling smile. “And I would be honored to share all those moments with you. Will you marry me?”
Emma takes another breath, her heart pounding against her ribs and she has to stop it from yelling out her answer. Because there is no doubt in her mind, in her heart of what it is. Her hands cup his cheeks, her eyes staring into his.
“Yes, Killian Jones, I will mar-” He doesn’t let her finish and really, there are better things she can be doing with her mouth than talking. Like kissing her fiancé.
They share smiles that reflect a future together, a happy ending. Smiles that reflect a future with morning coffee and morning kisses. Smiles that reflect a future with the love of her life. She can get used to that, the smiling, the kisses and, of course, the coffee.
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Not sure what this says about me lmao
Tagged by @perfectlysunny02
Rules: go to Spotify and search for your daylist, then post a screenshot of the title + description!
Tagging: everyone should do it and tag me if you do! Oh and also some mutuals
@shxiao @exhaustedpirate @weewookinard @crestsofwavess @mmso-notlikethat @crowleying @leashybebes @tevantarlos @merrylou-mas @bambi-buckley @sugdenlovesdingle @bucktommyverse
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Blackberry Summers - Chapter 3
What’s this? Another chapter and it’s not even Wednesday? 😱
The chapter count is up!
Tag!
@jrob64 @resident-of-storybrooke @lfh1226-linda @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @motherkatereloyshipper @soniccat @beckettj @zaharadessert @winterbaby89 @earanemith @everything-person @elizabeethan @elfiola @anmylica @booksteaandtoomuchtv @tiganasummertree @teamhook @caught-in-the-filter @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jonesfandomfanatic @kmomof4 @laianely @stahlop @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @exhaustedpirate @ultraluckycatnd @xarandomdreamx @belovedcreation @shady-swan-jones @ohmakemeahercules @bdevereaux-blanche @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @poptart-cat-78 @snowbellewells
#undercaffinatednightmare fics#captain swan#let’s get kraken#cs blackberry summers#writing weekend#captainswanwipwednesdays
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