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yandere-writer-momo · 14 days

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Yandere Head Canons:

The Wishing Well

Yandere Kraken x Fem Reader

TW: Tentacles, teratophillia, monster fucking, etc

When you were a child, you were often told about a wishing well deep within a sea cave. A well that would grant you any wish your heart desired so long as you made a deal of equal standing with the magical creature that resided in it. Yet most of your fellow villagers said the price was always worth more than what you desired… and the forest was extremely dangerous.

There was a tale about a king who had wished for more riches, yet he returned from the well with no hands so he could no longer hold the gold he had so foolishly sought out.

There was another tale of a woman who went to the well to wish for a child, yet she returned from the well with a round stomach. The villagers all said her baby was a monster.

You were told only one good story about the well. A story of a man who had went to the well to wish for his wife’s health to improve. A hopeless romantic, your peers called him. A man who successfully made a wish and had his wife healed from her incurable disease… yet he never returned from that well. The villagers all assumed the worse, that he sacrificed his own life for his lover…

These stories terrified you as child so you never really thought about the well. At least not until you reached adulthood, anyways. When your village was being threatened by orcs from foreign lands. Your village would perish if they didn’t surrender all of their women to the invaders.

Your villages population was mostly elderly people so there were only ten options of women to send off and you were one of them. You didn’t want to be the whore of an invader, you wanted to marry your lover, Valo… a handsome young man who lived by the seaside on his own. He was a bit eccentric, but you could see yourself with him.

There was only one way to save yourself and your village. And that would be to use the well.

And so you journeyed deep into the frozen sea cave on your quest to liberate your land. Your hopes high despite the small bit of dread that pooled into your stomach. The price shouldn’t be too bad… no. It didn’t matter what the price was. Because you’d rather die than lose your dignity.

Your journey took over three hours, but you finally stood in front of the old well. It was so much larger than the stories had described… and it seemed bottomless from how pitch black the water was.

“H-hello? I’m here to make a wish.” You yelped when a masked face popped up from the well. The man’s muscular upper torso leaned on the edge of the well to stare at you.

“A wish?” The man’s voice was raspy, almost as if he hadn’t spoken in eons. “I haven’t received a wish yet… okay. I’ll grant your wish if I like it.”

What did this man mean by that? Was he the creature of the well? You tried to see what was behind the man’s upper torso yet it was impossible to get around this man.

“No need to be shy. I want to hear what your wish is. You’re the first human I have seen.” Oh? But this well has been here for generations… perhaps the creature within it changed every so often?

“I’m here to save my village from invaders.” You gasped when he grabbed your jaw to tilt your head towards him.

“How noble… I don’t believe that’s all you want though. You’re hesitant.” The man chuckled at your flushed cheeks. “Are you afraid of me?”

You cast your gaze to the floor which made the man burst into laughter. “Goodness! How fun! Please be honest or else you had made this journey for naught.”

“The other girls and I will be sacrificed to the invaders to be… to be their wives or slaves.” Your voice is so soft yet it echoed throughout the icy cave. “Please help my village! I don’t want to be with someone I don’t love-“

You felt your heart stop when the man’s masked face was now only a few inches from yours. His violet eyes studied your form in interest before he sat up. “You’re not lying and I find you quite pretty.”

The man snapped his fingers and a contract appeared from thin air, the words written on it were in an olden tongue you couldn’t grasp. “I will grant your wish but you must sign this contract. I don’t want you to butt out of our end of the deal.”

“Deal?” You’re puzzled by the man who laughed at your gobsmacked expression.

“Duh. Wishes aren’t for free otherwise more people would come to me.” The man nodded his head at her.

“But what is it that you want from me?” You asked the man who merely gave you a smirk.

“I’ll tell you once your little invader issue is resolved. Until then, you’re free to go about your life.” You bit your lip but ultimately signed, the man quickly snatched up the contract as his body spun in circles in the pitch black water of the well. “I’m thrilled! It’s been so long since I’ve had company…”

The man turned to her with a grin. “You said you’ll only be with someone you love, right?”

“Yes?” The man nodded his head and snapped his fingers, the contract disappeared into thin air.

“Then it’s settled. I will collect you when the time is right.” The man then waved you away as you made your long journey home. The man was now absolutely giddy. Was this how his mother felt when she met his father all those centuries ago? He was so happy that you were indeed the one.

You did go about your life and was surprised to hear how a kraken destroyed the invaders’ ships. It was a terrifying site to see the dismembered bodies and ship wreckage on the frozen shores of your home… yet it was satisfying. Everyone was safe, just as promised.

There was no longer the threat of foreign invaders… which meant you were able to spend more time with your lover. The violet haired man beamed at you when he invited you to walk on the icy beach with him.

“Once winter is over, why don’t we get married?” Valo blushed when you took his hand in yours. “The sea is always bursting with life in the summer…”

“I’d love to.” The two of you giggled in bliss. Yet you couldn’t help the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that the man from the well would call upon you soon to pay off your end of the deal…

After that day with Valo, you were plagued with nightmares of a creature from the deep. A violet kraken that wrapped its tentacles around your small body and plunged you into the depths of the dark ocean. The tendrils would squeeze you in ways that were salacious. The violet appendages would shove their way down your throat and into your poor hole. It was such a terrifying nightmare, one that always felt so real.

You’d often wake up with sore arms, legs, and sometimes sore nether regions from these dreams. Perhaps you should spend more time with Valo? Your lover always made you feel more comfortable…

And it was now summer! The two of you were going to get married soon, anyways. It wouldn’t hurt to see Valo…

And so you went to your lover’s home on the shore. Your fellow villagers quirked a brow at you. They never knew why you went to the beach so often with a smile on your face since you always came back empty handed.

No one had lived on that shore for centuries after the fisherman disappeared to save his wife at the well in the sea cave.

“Valo?” You approach the violet haired man who gives you a bright smile. His violet eyes eerily shine under the moonlight as his body remained half submerged in the sea.

“My dear, it’s time to pay off your debt.” You freeze when you hear the familiar voice of the man from the well leave Valo’s throat. “You said you’d only be with someone you love, so it’s time for you to pay your dues.”

You scream when violet tentacles shoot out from the murky water and wrap around you. What? But… how? These were the tentacles from your nightmares. The violet tendrils that wrapped themselves skeins your pliable body when you were in dream world… the tendrils that fucked you.

“V-Valo?!”

“I’m sure you’ll love our new home… it isn’t often a kraken finds their mate.”

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mydyspraxiablog · 4 months

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Having dyspraxia going Newphew comfim but Stafford to Golden Bridge got seat I was happy even didn't have disable railway card but wait then lift said if trying platform one please use stair so use stairs and was platform 2 didn't know how get platform 1 but some kind starager help show where stairs was to platform 1 then 3 trains was cannel saw someone nearly fall out train but his friend pick him up then trying get train but was fall could not get on train but guard whist haven't got on train yet " We got get on Christian go too." It so fall noughting to hold on felt wish wasn't here people push and trying going off both side off carriage end up with panic attacks fit on the train it was scare didn't have mobie phone no sunflower landyard card so if gone on own have panic attacks with no mobie phone no Sunflower landyard card with mum emergency number because of panic attacks have on trains not use train again too full and don't have seat never travel on trains again not going through trains again.

Do feeling let Georgina family down at movements got do some Easter to making up for that but not travel on trains got find away travel from bus Stafford to Harley not easy because Stafford buses only run in morning not on Sunday can't really walk up from Stafford to Harley might have be taxi but not worry.

Now going talk about bus pass at movent OAP and Disabled only can use bus pass only England not Wales, Scotland or North Ireland but for Eddler bus pass travel all round UK incude Wales and Scotland I got family and friends in Scotland and could have holiday in Wales too with bus pass travel on buses Do miss Greenach caravan park eat noughting but junk food then do miss Bedford step in Cornwall Hotel spead many happy time. IT something read on Internet don't know if true or not.

Now soon be Baptist nerves but looking forward too it only few family going but still got church family too and going let Jesus and God in my life. Even noughting do Stafford at movements after Baptist got write Easter Card to my sponsor child paid for Edacation , and health going on Compassionuk project really don't want say in Easter card sponsor child haven't ask it Compassionuk better want send before uk Easter with early this year. I haven't received letter from sponsor child so looking when arrived got log on Compassionuk but do website it bit better but not put all those need sponsor. I try not worry but do want pet hamsters would like cats and dogs again and sponsor child too and have sort out something with Lone Trefoil Guild as new cheques book only arrived today. Stupid Natwest bank there know this family living Victorian times only use cash paid delivery in cash too.

I not worry about further I know God chose me now how get out house going around stafford Town I miss Stone,Longton and Newcastle under Lyme missing going seaside want going holiday but won't be this year think mum might be eye done and time ask for caring look after me and mum as afraid using cooking but OK with microwave but got new Air flyer and yesterday made rock cakes try reduce suger as though YouTube Rock cakes was too much suger but do need turn Rock cakes over start with two each then mum had another one and two left " Want cut in half?"No you have it been gluten free food " so eat Rock cake nice bit need bit raising and bit more suger was nice. Why write this I think something did with Jigsaw badge which hadn't got yet I did cooking Gluten free pizza in oven ( This before oven exposed) Then in microwave did lemoncurd spone lemoncure cake in mug but can't find now because Google deleted those photo mum isn't happy about that.

I feeling sleeping need be up early for church in morning so going say goodnight.

#dyspraxia #fear of trains #buspass

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tinydooms · 2 years

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I posted 2,333 times in 2021

437 posts created (19%)

1896 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.3 posts.

I added 1,356 tags in 2021

#the mummy - 197 posts

#personal - 189 posts

#art - 163 posts

#fashion - 134 posts

#writing - 129 posts

#decor - 124 posts

#my fanfics - 119 posts

#interiors - 110 posts

#ask games - 100 posts

#history - 91 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#egyptology as a practice did have plenty of europeans acting like they could dig a hole in the ground and take whatever they wanted

My Top Posts in 2021

"“I’ll take care of you.” “It’s rotten work.” “Not to me. Not if it’s you"" for Rick and Evy please

Cairo, some weeks after Ahm Shere, 1933

Someone was crying. Through heavy layers of sleep Evie could hear the low pleading whimpers; she pulled herself up to wakefulness and to Rick, twisted in the sheets beside her, crying out.

"No, please--"

Evie rolled over, pressed herself into him, wrapped her arms around his body. "Rick, love, it's okay. It's a bad dream, darling, hush now."

As usual, the physical proximity and her murmured encouragement stilled his erratic movements and causing him to curl into her, but Rick still whimpered. Evie cuddled him close, cradling his head and rubbing his back.

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm here. You did everything right; it's okay."

Slowly Rick stilled, slowly the dream faded. Good. She kept rubbing his back, willing the bad dreams away. Early in their marriage, Rick had often awoken screaming in the night, haunted by the death and carnage of Gallipoli and Hamunaptra. These nightmares had faded over the years, but they had come roaring back since the events at Ahm Shere, nightmares of not being able to save her from Anck-su-namun's sword, of not being able to get Alex to the pyramid in time to prevent his death. The nightmares would fade away someday, Evie knew, and in the meantime, she was here to hold Rick, to soothe him and remind him that Alex was alive because of him, that he had done exactly what he had had to do to save their child. Out out out, Evie whispered to the darkness. Evil spirits, get thee hence. Rick had been broken before, but before he had been alone. Evie pressed a kiss to her lover's face and rocked him gently back to sleep. She loved him so much. He would never be alone again.

64 notes • Posted 2021-09-03 05:07:17 GMT

Someone arrived in the post today:

Evie was delighted to find that her custom-made male counterpart has a much better haircut than his official version:

Tell me you're easily pleased without telling me you're easily pleased. ;-)

69 notes • Posted 2021-08-06 04:10:37 GMT

I want to hear all the details of the haunted Carnahan home in England and how Rick gets involved in all the routines involved in caring and living with the haunted corners of the mansion. Like a weird english version of Island of the Aunts.

The Thing That Lives Behind the Radiator didn't always live behind the radiator. Once, a long time ago, it lived in a seaside mansion in a place that was warm and sunny and that knew how to take care of household spirits. Once, a long time ago, it received offerings of honey cakes and wine and in return it looked after the family. There was always a lot of family, but it liked them: babies who grew into funny toddling things who became weird little kids who grew into interesting young people who eventually brought forth babies of their own to begin the cycle again.

Then, one strange day, a Foreigner came to town. The family that lived in the big house was in a bad way. They needed money to send the Old Mother to hospital for her health, and so they sold many of their books and trappings, including the little cupboard altar in which the little god lived. And so the little god was brought to a cold and dreary place, wrapped in a packing crate lined with straw, and it was desperately unhappy. Its new home was also a mansion, but it was big and cold and dark, and for a long time, the god sulked in its forgotten altar. At least there is a fireplace nearby. But it is never really warm here, and there are no children allowed in the library, and the little god is desperately lonely and sad.

There are other spirits in the house, of course; there always are. There is a White Lady upstairs, not the ghost of a murdered woman but that of a girl who loved ghost stories and spooky things and who is spending her afterlife comfortably haunting her descendants, just because she can (the lunatic). There are other ghosts who are less hospitable towards the living, but the White Lady keeps them away and none of them seem to be interested in the little god in the library. There is also a mummy in the downstairs study, whose ka came to look at its former body's whereabouts, shook its head, and reincarnated as a goat famer in Indonesia. The little god, who now guards nothing and has no one, mostly ignores them all.

One day there is a big family blowup, and that is the first time it really pays attention to the foreigners who stole it away. The eldest son, Alexander, brings home a woman with dark hair and shining eyes and brown skin, and the Family is Not Having It. Unfortunately for them, Alexander does not care and neither does his new wife. And fortunately for the little god in the library, Salwa comes from a land that is hot, and the first thing they do is install radiators all over the house. The other spirits don't like that, but they do not have the same power as the god who lives in the fireplace, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like asserting itself. The radiators are installed in good working order, and the little god moves into the space behind it, just under the window.

Alexander and Salwa aren't at the house much, but when they are, they spend time in the library and the little god grows to love them. The couple love books and each other; they are always reading and learning and laughing and talking. One day they arrive with a baby in tow, a healthy boy, and the little god creeps out from behind the radiator to look at him in his basket. It is only a little god, but it blesses the child: you will live a long and happy life. The baby blinks sleepily up at it and coos.

Five years later, another baby is brought into the library with its parents and brother: a sweet baby girl. The little god blesses her, too, and sits and listens while Salwa reads stories aloud to her children. For the first time in many years, it feels soothed.

The little girl, Evelyn, is always in the library. From a young age little Evie loves books: the look of them, the feel of them, the smell of them, the stories they contain. She comes in, first toddling, then skipping, then with purpose, and sits at the table or before the fire and reads for hours. One day, when she is quite small, she drops a pencil: it rolls under the radiator and hits the little god. Evie drops down onto her belly to look and the two come face to face.

This little girl has curly dark hair and glowing green eyes. She resembles less the foreigners who stole the little god from its home than she does the people it originally loved. For a long moment the two of them stare at each other, and then little Evie smiles and fetches out a biscuit from her pinafore pocket and slides it under the radiator. The little god slides her back the pencil. From that day on, they are friends.

Evie can't actually see the little god, of course, especially the older she gets, but she always knows it is there. And she understands the concept of offerings: whenever she comes into the library, she always leaves a cup of tea and a biscuit or something under the radiator. The little god appreciates this and looks after the books in return. It looks after Jonathan, too, though it never quite has the same relationship with him as it does his sister. Jonathan doesn't always remember to leave offerings, but he greets the little god whenever he comes into the library ("Hello, old thing!") and that's good enough.

When the War comes and Jonathan enlists, the little god creeps out from behind the radiator and blesses its boy as he spends his last night in his bed. You will survive; you will come home. And Jonathan does come home, but he is not the same: he limps about on crutches and can't sleep without screaming. Sometimes he hides in the library for hours, all the lights out, and weeps quietly. The little god does what it can, but the horror is too deep in Jonathan's soul. This is a wound that only time can heal.

And then, one terrible day, news comes that Alexander and Salwa are gone, killed in a terrible accident, and it is both Evie and Jonathan who sit sobbing in the library. The little god sobs too. It had loved the parents as much as it loves the children.

And then Evie and Jonathan go away for a long time. The little god sits behind the library radiator and mourns for its missing family, for the love and laughter that no longer fill the house. It awaits the day when they return. Please let them return.

The White Lady bangs on the pipes, bored that no one is there to appreciate her antics. The ka of the mummy in the study comes back to visit its former body again, scoffs to find it still propped against the wall, and reincarnates again, this time as an Italian opera singer. And the little god waits.

Evie and Jonathan come back one fine spring day, and they bring with them a new person. The little god peeks out from behind the radiator at Evie's new husband as its family take tea. When Evie brings a cup and a crumpet to leave under the radiator ("We're back, old thing! I hope you didn't miss us too terribly."), Rick O'Connell looks surprised, but he doesn't say anything. He is a big man and a kind one, and as the little god grows used to him, it begins to love him as much as it loves Evelyn and Jonathan. Rick has the air of a man well-traveled, one who understands that there are many unexplained things in the world and who doesn't mind the presence of a little god behind the radiator. He even leaves offerings sometimes: peppermints and bits of chocolate and occasionally even a slug of brandy or whiskey. Rick has his own spirit who follows him about: a woman with red-blond hair and a bright Irish face who looks after him in the way the spirits of Alexander and Salwa look after Evie and Jonathan. Will you look after my son? she asks the little god one day, and that night, the little god goes upstairs and blesses the sleeping man. You will live a long life and be happy.

And one day, a baby is born upstairs, as Rick and Jonathan wait in the library. The little god is not fretful the way the men are; it has blessed Evelyn and her child and knows they will be fine. Later, when Rick has met his child and kissed his wife and cried with happiness, the little god is surprised when the big man rolls a cigar under the radiator for it.

"Thanks, pal," he says. "Thanks for looking after us."

The new baby is blond and chubby and the worst handful of a child the little god has seen since his mother, and the little god just adores him. It blesses the boy--you will always be safe--but recognizes that it might have to do more for this one than simply sit behind the radiator. And one evening Alex puts on a magical bracelet, and men from a far away land come to harm the family, and the little god climbs out of its place behind the radiator and into it's boy's pocket and is carried off on an adventure, but that is a story for another day.

75 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 08:06:52 GMT

Not sure if this is true or not, but the mental image is hilarious.

99 notes • Posted 2021-07-01 17:09:31 GMT

belphegor1982 said: "That sounds like a fair assessment and a frustrating movie (in that the characters are better than their treatment by the story and writers). I am very curious about a character being allowed to be openly gay in a Disney movie, though! Could you elaborate on that, please?"

MacGregor is portrayed as a dandy, WW1-era English chap who full-on comes out to the Rock when explaining to him why he follows Lily on her adventures and supports her unconditionally (basically, she's the only one who doesn't disown him for loving men). It's actually a very moving scene and I'm surprised that Disney allowed it to happen, given their track record. Apparently this character was supposed to die early in the movie and become a catalyst for Lily's adventure, but Jack Whitehall did such a good job that they wrote him into the movie in full, and in that process, he became gay. And it is beautiful.

Also, Frank never treats him any differently for his queerness and consistently hugs and touches him and treats him as entirely human, and it's sad that something so simple as kindness and humanity is something we have to comment on as unusual to see in the plague year 2021.

121 notes • Posted 2021-07-31 06:56:21 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I do find it funny that my no. 1 post of the year was about #Jungle Cruise #ah well

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rhetoricalrogue · 4 years

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31 Days of Wayhaven, Day 26

Prompt: Past Rating: G, mentions of long ago off-screen death Words: 3,018 Characters: Bjorn EcklundCameron Buchanan, Marle Starling, Agent Fiona Note: This is the most self-indulgent little fic I’ve written this month, purely because Cam’s faceclaim is the same as a character that I killed off, then later decided to resurrect as a bigger role, then ultimately set aside on a shelf and I had a mighty need to bring him back as a cameo here. This, of course, meant that I needed to bring my small witchy Marle in as a cameo, seeing as she is the Thelma to Fiona’s (courtesy of @asaucyginger ) Louise (or is that the other way around?)

For the @31daysofwayhaven event.

Wayhaven, Cam discovered, was a quaint little seaside town that had charmed him the moment he stepped out of the car and looked over the docks. Closing his eyes, he felt the pull of the sea, the feeling still gentle and welcoming yet with an industrious air to it as if the waves had many things to do and very little time to do them in.

He and Penny walked hand in hand to the nearby historical home turned Bed & Breakfast where they were planning on staying the weekend, Penny pointing out a few shops she wanted to check out while they were there from her phone. Apparently the Mayor of the town was trying to make this a tourist destination and had revamped the single webpage from what looked to be self-taught HTML into a more appealing site since the last time Cam had curiously checked it out.

He paused on the front porch, Penny already entering to check them in. As much as he enjoyed an opportunity to be alone with Penny, Wayhaven was Unit Bravo’s home turf now, and it felt like stepping on their toes to be in town for Agency work. As part of their demotion to Unit Delta, Cam’s team had been given administrative fieldwork detail that was usually done by new recruits or lower level clearance units. Nicky had been insulted, muttering all manner of foul things under his breath as he took over the more clerical type jobs, and Penny had been irked at being given menial tasks that wouldn’t even challenge green field agents, but Cam had accepted their fate with more grace.

For example, this job that had brought them into Bravo’s new backyard. There was a green witch who had newly decided to not only make her home in town, but to open up shop. This wasn’t unusual for her, if her file was anything to go by. She followed Agency protocols for business owners to the letter and had a superior rating in every inspection her shop underwent. By all means, Marle Starling was a model supernatural citizen and this initial inspection of her new shop would be a formality. The only negative mark on her record was the fact that she was close friends with Agent Fiona, which only proved to Cam that even the straightest laced and professional people had need of a little chaos every now and again.

Turning to the front door, Cam joined Penny in getting their things situated into their room before heading out. The town was small and the weather pleasant enough that they both decided to walk to the shop.

Penny had gotten distracted at the sight of a cute little flower shop, so Cam opened the door to Tea and Tarot by himself, the gentle chime of bells above the door welcoming him in. The shop was small, but decorated in a way that made it seem cozy instead of cramped. There was enough room for several tables for patrons to enjoy their tea and Cam’s eyes flicked over to the till where there were advertisements for various teas ranging from High Tea to Afternoon Tea and even a birthday party tea. The counter featured a display case with a few baked items, signs advertising that many had come from Haley’s Bakery downtown, but there were a few scones and other treats that were made in-house. The lemon bars in particular proudly displayed a House Specialty! sign next to them. Even the large chalkboard with the various teas available written on them was pleasant to the eye, said teas charmingly organized in large glass canisters both behind the counter and on top of it for easy viewing.

Greenery from plants hanging at the ceiling crept along the white painted brick walls, and there was a back alcove with a Tarot Readings Here sign hanging over heavy green velvet drapes that when closed, would give both the reader and the person asking for a reading privacy. All in all, it was a peaceful, charming little shop.

“Hello! I’ll be with you in a moment!” Cam waited as a petite woman with dark brown hair done up in a Dutch braid emerged from a back storeroom, wiping her hands on a towel. She wore a cheery looking mustard colored dress with bees and flowers printed on it and looked exactly the way he imagined an owner of such an establishment would look. “Good afternoon, sorry for the wait. How may I…” Cam watched as she looked up at him, all the blood draining from her face and the towel falling from limp fingers.

“Are you alright?” he asked in concern, stepping forward and holding out a hand when he saw her sway forward, her own hand shooting out to catch herself on the countertop next to her. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

She blinked and cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said, putting a shaking hand to her throat. “For a moment there, you reminded me of someone I knew.”

“Do you need to sit down?” Cam pulled out a chair and offered it to her.

She laughed. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for your concern though.” She tilted her head. “Well, seeing as you’re not the person I thought you were, I haven’t seen you in these parts. Marle Starling, proprietor.”

Seeing that the shop was empty, Cam decided to forgo the usual pretend to be a normal human niceties. “Commanding Agent Cameron Buchanan.”

Her brow arched. “Ah. I was wondering when the Agency was going to send an inspector. Yet I wasn’t expecting them to send one of their unit leaders to do a clerk’s job.”

He shrugged. “Long story. May I have a look around?” He held up his phone, showing her the inspection document he had pulled up.

“Please, be my guest. Would you like a cup of tea while you work?” Marle moved behind the counter and flicked on an electric tea kettle.

“No thank you.” Cam began his report, watching out of the corner of his eye as Marle pulled a small French press out from behind the counter and filled it with one of the blends she had in stock. “So, green witch? Have you done any work in town?”

“Not directly.” She added a large dollop of honey into a ceramic mug shaped like a honeycomb, complete with a cheerful looking bee sitting on top of the handle. “I carry teas to soothe colds, unstuff sinuses, and help people fall asleep, but selling such remedies isn’t outlawed. My beeswax balms for chapped hands and lips are made from the same formulas that you would find anywhere else, even if the herbs and flowers used in the making are of better quality.” The kettle gave a beep as it reached temperature and she poured the contents into the French press, Cameron watching as the tea swirled to life inside the glass, tinting the water with a faint yellowish red color.

“You stock your own honey?” He pitched his voice to be heard as he wandered into the back stockroom Marle had come out of, making note of the local Health Department approved sink and kitchen area. Something had just finished baking in the industrial oven and the smell made Cam’s stomach rumble.

“Harvested fresh from my bees in my backyard.”

He came out in time to see Marle sitting at one of the tables, her face in her hands as she tried to catch her breath. He hung back long enough until she was composed before making enough noise to let her know that he was back in the front. “And your readings?”

“Standard tarot readings, nothing magical about them. I also do rune readings, though I haven’t gotten much interest in them. People tend to stick with ways of divination that they’re familiar with.”

“Well,” Cam finished the incredibly brief inspection report. “I can confidently say that your establishment passes all Agency requirements. Unless you have any questions, I think I’m done here.”

Marle’s eyes grew large. “Wait! Are you sure you can’t stay for a cup of tea? Perhaps something to eat?”

He smiled as he shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I’m meeting up with my fiancée and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” He winked. “Besides, I wouldn’t think that you’d want to spend more time with a person that looks like someone that clearly upset you.”

Marle opened her mouth, color rising to her cheeks. “No, I wasn’t upset.” She clasped her hands together, her thumb rubbing against her fingers. “You caught me by surprise is all. I haven’t seen the man you look like in a long time.” Her eyes went down to the table’s surface. “A very long time.”

Both of them turned towards the front door when the chimes signaled another patron. “Pour us a cup, Mar,” the woman said, unwrapping a scarf from her hair, the bright red curls bouncing around her shoulders once they were free. “And add some extra sugar in. Du Pain in My Ass Mortain fucked up my ribs something awful just now and it irks me that we ended in a draw this round.”

Marle rose from her seat and went behind the counter again. “Fiona, we have a guest.”

The woman, who was slightly shorter than Marle, smirked. “No you don’t. Agent Buchanan.”

He nodded. “Agent Fiona.”

Fiona, uncharacteristically narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you done with Agency business, selkie man?”

The hard tone of her voice was one he’d never heard before, especially since the handful of times they’d interacted had been light and flirty. “I am.”

“Then get out.” She flashed him a smile that was too full of pointed teeth. “Please.”

The protective way that Fiona rounded the table until she put herself between Marle and himself made him wonder what was going on. “Have a good evening. It was nice meeting you, Marle.”

“Likewise.”

Cam left the shop feeling oddly out of sorts from the strange encounter, but his spirits lifted when he saw Penny sitting at a nearby bench. He was about to make his way towards her when he heard Marle call out to him. “I’m sorry about Fiona,” she said in a rush, holding a white waxed paper bag out. “She’s a little prickly when she comes back from a -”

“An unofficial brawl with Agent Adam du Mortain?” He held up a hand. “Trust me, those fights aren’t as secret as the two of them would like to think. And don’t worry, I don’t take offence.”

She let out a breath. “Good. Here, for you and your fiancée.” She pressed the bag into his hands. “Lemon bars. They’re my signature treat.”

There was a strange prickle of magic as their fingers brushed together. Cam frowned as the hopeful look in her eye faded and her mouth turned sadly downward. “I thought you said you didn’t practice on people,” he murmured.

“Sorry, I sensed you had a headache and I didn’t say a word about practicing on Agents,” she countered. Her eyes flicked to a point behind his shoulder. “I take it that she’s your wife to-be?”

Cam didn’t need to look behind him to know that Penny was making her way towards them. After so long together, he could easily sense her presence. “She is.”

Marle looked up at him. “And you’re happy?”

There was zero hesitation. “I am. Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

She closed her eyes and smiled, her lips trembling the faintest bit. “Good.” She opened her eyes and Cam was surprised to see a sheen of tears when she looked up at him next. “I wish the two of you many more years of happiness to come.” Just as Penny walked up to them, Marle backed away, slowly turning and entering her shop again.

“That was...odd,” Cam said, watching as the Open sign on the door slowly turned to Closed.

“Did you get the inspection done?” Penny asked.

“I did.” Shaking his head, which he only then realized that the faint ache that had lingered for most of the afternoon was magically gone, he held up the bag in his hand. “Hungry? I heard these lemon bars are a house special.”

Marle stood at the door to her shop and watched the couple walk away, the blonde woman threading her arm through Cam’s and resting her head on his shoulder as they went. She couldn’t help the shuddering breath that escaped her as she locked the door and turned off the lights, leaving the main area dark save for the soft glow of white fairy lights strung around the perimeter of the room.

“Here,” Fiona said, handing Marle her mug.

“There’s bourbon in this,” Marle told her, taking a sniff. “Way more than a shot too.”

“I figured you needed it.” Fiona gently put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “That wasn’t him.”

“I know it wasn’t.” Marle made her way back to one of the tables and sat down. “Though, gods, at first I thought it was.”

“He does bear a striking resemblance.” Fiona puttered behind the counter and made herself a cup of tea, adding a liberal amount of booze from the flask in her pocket. Before joining Marle at the table, she slid open the bakery display and grabbed the plate of triple chocolate brownies that were still warm from the oven. “But he isn’t Bjorn.”

Marle twisted her fingers together. “I thought, maybe, that there may have been a chance…”

“Oh, honey, you didn’t.”

“I was smart enough to whisk his headache away so he didn’t know I was reading him for any other enchantment, maybe something that had caused memory loss.”

The plate of brownies and mug went down on the table with a clatter before Fiona pulled her chair close to Marle’s and took her hands in her own. “Your husband has been dead for over eighty years. His ship capsized in a storm and there were no survivors.”

“They never recovered a body.”

Fiona’s fingers squeezed. “And the two of us never recovered one either. I thought that you’d…”

Marle pulled her hands away. “What? Accepted my husband’s death?” She closed her eyes and took a breath. “I had. It’s just...when I saw Cameron walk into my shop, wearing the same types of sweater that my husband liked to wear and looking just like him…” She stopped to wipe at her cheek. “I had this hope that maybe, just maybe the impossible had happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” She sniffled and scrubbed at her eyes. “He’s been gone for eighty years, but I miss him. I miss him every day. Today was exceptionally hard, but to have even the briefest of moments where my Bjorn was brought back to me…”

She didn’t fight it when Fiona’s arms wrapped around her. “I’d hoped that you never had a reason to meet him,” she said, smoothing her friend’s hair as she cried. “He’s a good man, clever and polite when it comes to dealing with the fey, but I wanted to spare you the heartache when I realized he was the spitting image.” She pressed a brief kiss against the crown of Marle’s head. “I’m sorry, m’dear. Even if you’re not.”

“Thanks, Fee.” Marle moved away and used the towel Fiona had thought to bring with her to wipe at her eyes. Looking up at the ceiling, she let out a heavy sigh. “The only thing I’m sorry is that you decided to be friends with a woman prone to weeping.”

Fiona looked at her for a moment. People processed grief differently, and for someone who was for all intents immortal unless burned at the stake for being a witch - a practice that Fiona was glad to see fall out of favor, by the way - Marle had a great deal of time to carry the weight of her grief until she decided it was time to let it and her departed husband rest. She herself was no stranger to grief, she’d gained and lost a number of loves in her long lifetime and wagered that she would gain and lose a handful more before she was done having fun in this world.

“Please. You’re the one who thought it would be wise to befriend me.” Reaching over, she pulled the plate of brownies closer to them. “But I know what will lift your spirits?”

Marle looked at her friend. “Does it involve eating that entire platter of brownies and getting wasted on whatever you have in that flask of yours?”

“You know me too well.” She picked one of the brownies up and took a bite, closing her eyes at the flavor. If it was ever determined that she had one, Fiona would gladly sell her soul for a lifetime supply of these brownies. They were better than anything else she had ever eaten. They were better than anything else she had ever attempted to make herself. They were better than sex.

Okay, so that was up for review. It depended on the partner. The fact of the matter was that Marle’s brownies were damn good and she sold them at a shockingly cheap price to people who had better appreciate what they were eating.

“So what do you say? Let’s get shitfaced and sugar buzzed?” She hoped that it would be distraction enough to keep Marle from being upset all evening.

Marle picked up her mug and lifted it towards Fiona, who picked up her own mug and carefully touched it with a clink of ceramic. “Best idea of the day.”

“Hey now, you haven’t even heard my idea to use the fairy door I’ve got stashed somewhere to head to the all-male sauna in Finland. The locals know me by name.”

That made Marle snort into her tea. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

“Hey, a girl knows how to have a good time.”

“That you do.” She reached out and squeezed Fiona’s hand. “Thanks, Fee.”

She squeezed back. “Any time.”

#31daysofwayhaven #my writing #cameron buchanan #marle starling #shameless self-indulgence? in MY fanfic? It's more likely than you think.

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seriouslyhooked · 7 years

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Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 2/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1 Here. Also On FF Here.

A/N: So first and foremost I want to say thank you so much for the great response I got from so many of you! It makes writing so much easier on my end when I know I have people who are as excited as I am to get to the next chapter. That being said, this installment takes place on the same day as chapter one but from Killian’s POV. Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you all think!

What a difference six hour’s worth of highway makes, Killian thought to himself as he drove past the outer limits of Storybrooke and into the heart of this quaint town on the coast of Maine.

It occurred to Killian more than once on the drive to this sleepy little hamlet that this might be the making of a total disaster. He’d tendered his resignation at one of the nation’s greatest papers this week, where he had leeway on writing any story he wanted, and for what: a complete one-eighty where he traded in a ritzy Manhattan flat for a seaside cottage in a town with under a thousand occupants. Killian was almost certain that his old apartment building alone had more people living in it than the whole of Storybrooke, and if he had to guess, the impending culture shock would not be insignificant.

But even if this move was certifiably crazy, it offered something Killian had been desperately craving for a long time: change. He’d been stuck for too long in the same cyclical, boring life that never evolved in any way. Every story that he wrote (even the most abnormal ones that he wrestled for weeks to get just right) was formulaic. His hobbies were predictable and his poor attempt at a social life was totally contrived. There was nothing new in Killian’s world, nothing that gave him the rush that climbing the ladder at the paper once provided. Yes, Killian he had success in his profession, but what did it matter if he ended each day feeling unfulfilled?

“If you’re that unhappy, why don’t you go off and write that bloody book you used to talk about? You’ve got the money. You’ve got your health. What the hell is stopping you?”

His brother Liam’s opinion had come as a surprise to Killian when he offered it a week ago. Liam was a workaholic to the extreme stationed as an in-fighting consultant for the US Navy. He was never home and he preferred it that way so Killian assumed that Liam would fail to see why someone could want more for their life than their work, but his brother surprised him with his insight on their last Skype call.

“You’ve only got one life, brother. Better to find something that matters and secure it than to wake up one day and realize you would do it all differently if you could.”

With those words in mind, Killian debated with himself about what choice to make. He wanted a sign or something more than simple suggestion from his brother that this was the right play, and when he got home that day he found one. For there, interspersed in the usual bills and flyers that came each day in the mail, was something unusual: a post card bearing an appealing picture of the ocean and the words ‘Storybrooke, Maine.’

The oddness of the piece of mail grew that much more bizarre when Killian flipped it over and found that it was handwritten with an almost child-like script and addressed to him personally. Not ‘current resident,’ not the name of the last tenant who once lived here, but Killian Jones. On the card there was also a short but informative message:

‘You’ll find what you’re looking for here.’

Maybe Killian should have read that and been skeptical. After all what was someone in a town in Maine doing sending him a personalized post card? But then he reasoned that it must be some kind of marketing ploy, and in his case they might just have convinced him. There was something about the earnestness and clarity this postcard brought even while being wrapped in mystery that intrigued him.

So Killian did the only logical thing he could think of; he hopped on his laptop and googled the place, scrolling deeper and deeper into what he could find of Storybrooke and falling into a fantasy of what life there might be like. The next thing he knew, Killian was searching real estate listings and sending an email to a woman named Elsa who appeared to be the only realtor in the whole town, hoping to find a house of his own despite having never even been to Storybrooke in his life.

Now, not even a week later, he was here. After spending a night in a hotel in Portland, Killian rose with the dawn and headed for Storybrooke, arriving at the town’s real estate office at the bright and early hour of 7:00 AM. And he knew he had the right place to, for just out front of the tiny office was Elsa (who he recognized from her website) awaiting him with her hand covering a yawn as she tightly gripped some coffee in a portable cup.

“Killian Jones I presume?” She asked when he approached and he nodded.

“Aye. And you must be Elsa,” she nodded and Killian made sure to thank her for doing this as they walked inside her office. “I appreciate you humoring me with the early hour.”

“Oh it’s no problem. Clearly you’re eager to call Storybrooke home,” she said cheerily before pausing a bit. He could see a question brewing in her eyes but she bit it back and moved to get the rest of the materials they’d be needing.

“You want to ask me why exactly it is that I’ve moved here at all,” Killian acknowledged and she blushed a bit at being found out before nodding.

“It is a little strange. We don’t get a ton of new people,” she said but then quickly she tried to rephrase. “I mean obviously there are new people sometimes. We’re not like barring people at the town lines or anything. I mean…”

“It’s just that this isn’t really a town on the beaten path,” Killian filled in.

“Exactly!” Elsa said with relief.

Killian decided it was best to give her a snippet of his past and his hopes for the future but he was glad when Elsa didn’t pry for more than the Reader’s Digest version. Instead she worked diligently so that in twenty minutes time they had all the paperwork for the sale completed. It was a quick and relatively painless process, and Killian was amazed at just how easy it was to solidify a life altering decision when one put their mind to it.

In all honesty, Killian had been what many people might call reckless with this whole affair, not bothering to go see the house in person before putting in an offer. But Killian had seen it amongst the listings and known that if he was going to do this, that was the house for him. He also figured the price was low, it was close to the coast, and if it turned out to be total rubbish he could find another place or take it as a sign to give up on the whole idea of small town living all together.

This property also had the added bonus of being fully furnished so Killian hadn’t had to buy new things. He’d chosen a similar set up back in New York (because he never gave much thought to the styling’s of the place he largely just went to sleep) and all his actual belongings of any sentimental worth had fit in his car in a matter of boxes. Killian hoped that the existence of furnishings in this new place would keep it from feeling too empty, but it was a risk to say the least. After all he could show up and the whole place could be done up in frilly lace or garish shades that hurt to look at.

“Well Mr. Jones, I’m pleased to inform you that you are now officially a Storybrooke homeowner. Here’s the key to your new place,” Elsa said happily when they were done, pulling him from his worries.

Killian accepted the key and it’s copies, feeling a level of excitement he didn’t expect when the cool metal grazed his palm. The action of holding the key eased away his earlier doubts instantly, and Killian decided to hold onto that and keep that faith close as long as he could.

After a basic farewell to Elsa and a promise on her behalf that she’d see him around, Killian departed from her office and headed back into the sunny, mild morning that now seemed filled with so much possibility. He’d just bought a house, an actual house, and Killian wondered if he shouldn’t go and see it now that all was said and done. But there was one part of this town that beckoned him more than his future home could: the seascape that had lured him here in the first place.

When Killian arrived at the Storybrooke Beach, there was no one else around, but he didn’t mind. The serenity he imagined when glancing at that postcard back in New York was made real in this moment. The slow laps of the waves on the shore were peaceful and even, embodying a rhythm that was familiar for Killian and evocative of the only real home he’d known back in England when he was a lad. Back then it was him and Liam against the world and the sea had been the back drop for most of their good memories.

Bringing out his phone for the first time since stepping into town, Killian decided it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take a picture and to send it to the brother that had largely gotten him here. Killian made sure to include the passing sailboats in the distance and when he was satisfied that their crisp, white sails were visible, he sent the picture and a short message to Liam:

‘Not even thirty minutes in and I’ve already found more enticement for you here than in all of Manhattan. Consider this a firm demand that you take leave early this go around instead of waiting like you always do.’

While Killian knew his brother wouldn’t respond for a week or so thanks to the missions he was on, it felt good to get that check-in off his list of things to do. Yet speaking of lists, Killian had a great many things on his plate at the moment, and while staring out at the sea might be more enjoyable, he had to get back to reality and face the music so to speak. So he departed the sands with one last look and thought to himself that he’d be back soon enough to enjoy the salty air and subtle breeze he’d already come to love.

Once back in town again, Killian decided that it wouldn’t hurt to stop for some provisions. Nothing major of course, but he was relatively certain that Storybrooke wouldn’t boast any twenty-four hour establishments as New York did. He had a full day ahead of assessing what needed changing and doing with his house, so he set off to get some food and tools to pave his way at least for a few days.

Crossing the street to where the one town grocer appeared to be, Killian noticed the continued smiles and ‘good mornings’ that were tossed his way, but there came a moment when he had this feeling that he was missing something. It wasn’t a concrete thought per se, but a pull to look at one of the storefronts just beside the grocer. When he did, he noticed a flash of blonde hair and the barest glimpse of a lithe figure moving out of sight, but the window was hardly empty despite the departure, and there staring at him were three women, one of them being Elsa.

It was clear in that moment that the women had been staring at him. Killian could read it all over the faces of Elsa and the shorter woman beside her who both had the decency to look guilty, but the brunette to Elsa’s right was hardly deterred by being caught. Instead of appearing ashamed, she just started to wave, which set Elsa and the other woman doing the same. Killian nodded in their direction and smiled, but he pushed past the place to the grocer all the same not wanting to get sidetracked.

“You must be the new import everyone’s been talking about all morning,” a voice said to Killian when he’d barely entered the store.

Killian looked over and found a man with a wide smile and easy disposition. He’d guess they were around the same age, and from the white coat the man was donning he was likely some sort of Doctor. It was funny to Killian though, because underneath the coat the man wore a flannel, jeans and sturdy boots, as if Maine living meant even the utmost professionals needed to be ready for a hike at the drop of a hat.

“Yeah that would be me,” Killian confirmed and the man extended his hand.

“David Nolan, town vet.”

“Killian Jones, resident new guy” he offered in response as he shook David’s hand. “So the gossip’s already in full swing, huh?”

“Don’t worry, it gets easier,” David promised. “When I got here a few years back the talk was pretty constant but eventually it fades. And hey, maybe you’ll get lucky and someone else will move here soon.”

“How often does that happen?” Killian asked, already guessing the answer.

“Every couple of years, give or take,” David said with another smile and Killian shook his head.

“Right. Well I’m afraid they’ll be disappointed. I don’t have that sordid of a tale to study,” Killian admitted.

“That’s alright, they can work with anything,” David teased before asking a genuine question. “So what brings you to Storybrooke?”

“I’m hell-bent on becoming a cliché,” Killian said sarcastically before filling in the rest of his plan. “I’m here for a change, pondering the big universal questions, thinking of writing a novel...”

“A novel? That sounds great!” David proclaimed. “I’ll have to tell Mary Margaret that. She’ll be thrilled to have a writer in town, and you’re moving next to Emma and Henry so you might just become her new favorite person.”

“Who?” Killian asked, not following David’s sudden enthusiasm.

“Right sorry. Your next-door neighbor Emma Swan is one of my wife Mary Margaret’s best friends. She and her son Henry live in the little blue house next door to you and she owns the Stay A Spell Café next door.”

“And why would my proximity to this Emma Swan make your wife happy?” Killian asked, his mind lingering on this unknown woman’s name curiously when it passed through his lips. Meanwhile, David suddenly looked like he’d given away too much and Killian sighed somewhat dramatically, having a sneaking suspicion of what it could be. “Let me guess – an eligible and undeniably attractive man moves to town and all anyone can think is who to set him up with.”

“You kid, but you’re not wrong. That’s exactly what everyone will do. The whole town is in love with love and Emma… well she’s been a town favorite since the day she got here,” David admitted and Killian found himself perplexed but also wanting to ask some more about his new neighbor. She wasn’t from here either? How had she ended up here? But before he could ask, David was making his excuses. “Anyway I gotta get to the clinic to open up, but if you ever need anything I’m around.”

“Lots of trials and tribulations lining my path here in Storybrooke?” Killian asked and David shook his head with another smile appearing on his face.

“No, but Storybrooke is… special. Things will come up and when they do I’m an excellent listener.”

With that David said goodbye and though there were some strange elements to the conversation he’d just had, Killian didn’t leave the man thinking less of him. Actually he figured he might have found a potential new friend, which would no doubt be useful since he’d up and left all his old ones in New York.

From there, Killian ran into a great many more talkative citizens of Storybrooke (none of whom were his mystery neighbor), and his quick jaunt to the market and the hardware store ended up taking far longer than he expected because of it. As an act of necessary self-preservation, Killian went straight home from there, pulling his car into the driveway of his new estate and taking it all in for the first time.

This house was the quintessential New England home, which was to say it was a few hundred years old and, but it had an air of being well preserved, as if the previous owner had given it a lot of tender love and care. Everything was new and fresh, with the white paint gleaming from a newly applied coat and the yard appearing immaculate in every way. It was clean and clutter-free, and for that reason it stood rather in contrast to the house next door.

Thanks to the blue color and its small shape, Killian was able to guess that this was the home of the neighbors David mentioned before, and while he wouldn’t call it messy, the cottage was definitely adorned with a good number of unusual trinkets. A uniquely decorated wind chime hung on the front porch, and tiny, colorful pinwheels dotted the lawn as did a number of little gnomes and figurines. From the front of the house Killian could make out a structure in the backyard that he assumed was an ornate kind of trellis covered in vines, and way in the back up high in an old oak tree was a tree house.

On top of that the whole property was nearly surrounded by flowers, some wild and some meticulously gardened, and Killian was amazed at most of the varieties. Lilacs, sunflowers, even a few roses were all thriving and growing at a rate he couldn’t imagine. He could have sworn a number of these blossoms weren’t in season, but here they remained, all in the apparent peak of bloom with September already starting.

Staring at the house his neighbors had made for themselves, Killian felt a sudden pang of longing. That was a home – a real home - filled with life and a vibrancy he’d never experienced before. It was captivating even in it’s busyness, and Killian didn’t have to meet Emma Swan or her son to know that there was a love in that house. Nothing less could settle in a place like that. There had to be a real kind of magic to bring something like this to life.

Killian couldn’t tell if he was comforted by the clear sense of rightness next-door or a little envious, be he decided on the former. Happy neighbors would probably be good to have as apposed to surly ones, and though his house might not boast the same level of inherent cheer, it did hold a comfortable ambiance that Killian appreciated. He’d worried that the furnishings would be to the taste of an old woman, but once inside Killian found nothing lacking. It was classic and appropriate for the house and though he found a few rooms he might change once he was settled, this would do very well indeed.

“Alright, so all in all not a heinous disaster yet,” Killian mused to himself hours later after he’d found a place for the last of his things and gotten some of the cleaning and organizing out of the way. He’d made a lot of progress, but there was still more to do with the rest of his afternoon and Killian was just about to dive into one of the actual building projects when a sharp rapping sound moved against the window, shaking the pane of glass at a dangerous rate.

“What the hell?” Killian muttered as he saw the shaking branches tapping vigorously against his window. He moved to get a better look but unfortunately his sight was obscured from this vantage point leaving him with no choice: he had to go outside and face the culprit himself if he had any hope of making it stop.

Moving through the upstairs and down to the first floor, Killian’s mind considered some possibilities of what the commotion could be, but when he stepped outside he was surprised by what had actually caused the ruckus. There was currently a small person trying to climb this tree and shaking the branches as he moved along. The person – nay, the child – in question was coaching himself aloud as he moved along the branch, and for a second Killian was too perplexed to come up with a way to address this perfect stranger trespassing on his land.

“Almost there. Just a little bit more…” The boy said with a hopeful bravado in his voice one didn’t hear outside of conversations with children, but Killian didn’t like the idea of him going any further. He was risking himself enough as is and a fall from that height could be dangerous.

“Something I can help you with, lad?” Killian called up to the boy who stilled at the words. After a second he looked down at Killian with a huge grin. Funny – when Killian had been caught making a nuisance of himself in his neighbor’s yards as a child his instinct had never been to smile, but this boy looked damn near delighted at his presence, and Killian couldn’t help but extend a smile in return.

“Actually yeah. There’s a kitten up here and she’s too scared to come down but I can’t reach her without doing something that my Mom would call ‘stupid reckless.’”

Killian chuckled at the phrasing and he appreciated the sentiment. This wasn’t the safest of activities for a young boy to be engaging in, but his mother’s words playing in his mind was a good sign. Hopefully it meant that even if Killian hadn’t stumbled upon him, the lad wouldn’t have climbed much higher and potentially hurt himself in his heroic pursuit.

“You wouldn’t happen to be Henry would you?” Killian asked and the boy looked thrilled at being discovered.

“Yeah! How did you know?” Henry asked excitedly.

“Ah well that’s easy enough – you’re Storybrooke famous. I couldn’t go even one morning in town without hearing of you. So why don’t you hop down from there so I can give it a try and you can spare yourself the scolding from your mother later?”

“So is this your house now?” Henry asked as he shimmied down the tree and Killian found himself aligning with Henry’s movements in case he should slip. “Did you buy it from Mrs. Hubbard?”

“Aye I did,” Killian confirmed.

“Cool! What’s your name?” Henry asked as his feet hit the ground. His eyes were wide with a real want to know and Killian had never felt quite so interesting in his life.

“Killian Jones.” As soon as Killian provided the answer, Henry was thrilled all over again, as if somehow the name itself was some kind of awesome occurrence.

“So Killian, where ya from?” Henry asked, the cat seemingly forgotten but Killian laughed to himself. If first impressions could be trusted, his new young neighbor was precocious at the very least.

“Originally Britain but I detoured in New York.”

Henry snickered immediately at the joke and Killian didn’t have time to wonder if perhaps he’d made a comment too high brow for the lad to understand. Still there was something about earning a laugh from the boy that made Killian happy. When was the last time he’d even had contact with a kid? And were all of them this prone to good humor? Killian could hardly tell the answer to either question.

“That’s cool. My Mom and I lived there too. New York I mean. I’ve never been out of the country,” Henry said sounding a little remiss, but not too heartbroken about it.

“I think there’s hope yet for you, lad. What are you? Ten? Eleven?”

“I’m ten going on forty, or so my Mom says sometimes when I make a good point.”

“I bet that happens fairly often,” Killian acquiesced and Henry grinned, his chest puffing out proudly as he did.

“You bet!”

“So, this feline that needs saving… is she a companion of yours?” Killian asked nodding towards the tree and seeing the small bundle of black fur still nestled high up on a branch.

“Nope. I just got off the bus and heard her meowing. I followed the sound and I ended up here,” Henry said. “Can you help?”

“I think I can manage,” Killian said, assessing the sturdiness of the tree and gauging how he wanted to go about this.

With a quick word of caution for Henry to step back, Killian started his climb and got to the part where Henry had made it, knowing the branches would no doubt be hitting his windows again. The real problem came, however, when Killian ran out of places to safely step. If he moved too far a branch could break and he’d go tumbling down. But the kitten was still a good arm’s length from him and shaking from the whole ordeal.

“Come on then, can’t you see I’m trying to help you?” Killian asked, knowing full well the animal had no idea what the hell he was saying, but what else was he supposed to do? Maybe he’d bought something from the store to lure it closer? As Killian considered the possibilities Henry spoke again.

“You ever rescued a cat before?” Henry asked and Killian gritted his teeth, not in anger but frustration at his own lack of ability.

“Not that I recall,” Killian replied, knowing full well that the answer was no.

“There’s a trick to it you know,” Henry offered. “You could sing something.”

“Sing something?” Killian asked, perplexed at the suggestion.

“Yeah. My teacher, Mary Margaret, says it’s kind of like purring and as long as your voice isn’t terrible it should work,” Henry said with an earnestness that Killian chose to believe.

“You weren’t singing a second ago,” Killian noted and Henry shrugged.

“That’s because my voice is too high. I’m only ten, remember?”

“Aye,” Killian said before resigning himself to the fact that he was going to have to sing if just to appease his energetic neighbor. “Any requests?”

“No country,” Henry replied adamantly as if Killian would somehow be well versed in that genre and Killian bit back a laugh.

“Yeah I can pretty much promise you that, lad.”

In the end Killian went with a song easily hummed to, and though the first few moments he highly doubted the merit of Henry’s claims, he was shocked to find that the small cat moved closer to him as he continued the song. Soon enough the cat was within arm’s reach, and with only a little bit of risk on his part, Killian was able to grab her safely and make his way back down. When he was safely on land once more, Killian debated handing the cat to Henry but then reconsidered.

“There’s no telling if she’s sick with something, mate. We should see about getting her to Doctor Nolan first just to be safe.”

“You know David?” Henry asked surprised and Killian nodded.

“Aye. He’s the one who told me about you and your Mum.”

Henry’s face broke into another smile at the mention of his mother, and the look in his eyes was filled with something. Killian’s instincts told him that there was a plan brewing in the boy’s head, but before he could comment on that, the sound of a woman’s voice cut through everything.

“Henry, there you are!”

In that moment of first seeing the woman he assumed was Henry’s mother, Killian found himself at a loss for words. There was no means of understanding the beautiful sight before him. Emma Swan, if that was who this was, was more alluring and initially striking than anyone he’d ever met. It was like one second he was half asleep and the next he was jolted by this sudden sense of rightness. Everything about her was made of equal perfect parts, from her blonde flowing hair to her expressive green eyes. Even in this moment when worry was only just finding relief at her son being okay, she was stunning and so much more than Killian ever expected or knew how to handle.

Bloody hell! He thought to himself, not knowing what to say or do. Suddenly he was awkward when that had never been a problem for him, but for the moment he was spared by her continued attention being given to her son. She hadn’t so much as looked his way yet, and if Killian had any hope of not appearing a total fool, he needed to steady himself before she deigned to do so.

“Hey Mom!” Henry greeted, looking fully pleased with himself and the turn in situation.

“What are you doing here, kid?” Emma asked in a softer, but still firm tone. “You’re supposed to get off at Grace’s stop on Monday’s, you know that.”

“Oh. Am I still doing that this year?” Henry asked, but there was something less genuine in the lad’s voice than Killian had experienced since meeting him. If he had to guess, Killian would say that Henry knew what he was doing and that he’d gone against the original plan willingly.

“Yeah Henry, you are. I’m supposed to be working until five on Mondays, same as always.”

“Okay, Mom. I’ll remember next time,” Henry promised, and his mother seemed to trust him in that, giving him a nod and bringing him in for another hug.

This level of understanding reached between mother and son, however, prompted that next gloriously terrifying step Killian had been anticipating. Finally, after what felt like forever, Emma looked his way, and the connection he’d anticipated was like a punch in the gut and the warm rush of sunshine after a cold, dark winter all at once. He was thrown for a moment as they stood there silently gazing at each other, before Henry stepped in and saved the day.

“Mom, this is Killian. He’s out new neighbor from New York. Killian, this is my Mom, Emma Swan.”

“It’s nice to meet you Killian,” Emma offered kindly, her hands remaining on Henry’s shoulder’s in a protective way, as if she was still trying to convince herself that she’d found her son and he was truly okay.

“You as well, Swan,” Killian replied back clumsily.

Killian nearly smacked himself in the forehead for that lack of cool and his strange use of her last name, but then he remembered that wasn’t an option, not when he still held this small, furry beast in his hand. He looked down to the small puff of fur at the same time Emma did and when he looked back her way, he saw how much easy affection she had for the animal. She’d been a practical ray of sunshine since the moment he saw her, but now she was even more than that, exuding this kind of power he couldn’t readily explain.

“This your friend?” Emma asked in a way that simultaneously teased him and offered appreciation of the small kitten in his grasp.

“Not exactly,” Killian said, casting a glance at Henry who was making a sign for him not to rat him out. Killian didn’t want to lie to Emma in any way, so he chose his words carefully and selected only part of the story to share with her. “I just got her down from the tree with some guidance from your boy here, so I’d say we’re really acquaintances at best.”

Emma laughed at the joke and if Killian had thought it felt good to earn that sound from her son, there was nothing to compare earning one from Emma. It felt like he’d just won every damn prize in the book, and he immediately had this want to make Emma laugh like that again. He wracked his brain trying to think of something funny to say but he couldn’t form the words. He was too consumed with that lingering smile that played at her lips to formulate anything of sense to say.

“Well she seems to have taken a liking to you,” Emma said. “Are you a cat person?”

“I never gave it much thought to be honest, love,” Killian answered and Emma’s smile widened, filling his whole being up with light as she did.

“You might want to. I don’t think you’ll be shaking her anytime soon.”

Killian knew Emma was likely right about that given the fact that this little creature was purring up a storm and cuddling further into him with every given second. It was nice though, and even though he hadn’t had a pet since he was young, the thought of this little thing being in that great big house with him lent a level of comfort. He’d just have to ask David when he eventually got to his clinic if anyone had reported a missing cat. Then he’d have to figure out how exactly to care for a cat since he didn’t have even a remote idea.

“Hey Mom, you know what would be a great idea? We should have Killian over for dinner tonight!” Henry said excitedly and Killian actually really liked the sound of that. But his hope for such an invitation faded when in that moment Emma’s face fell, causing Killian’s heart to clutch painfully in his chest. She looked stricken by the proposition, and here he was thinking things had been going rather well.

“Maybe another time, kid. We have plans at Belle’s tonight, remember?” Emma said, offering Killian an apologetic look as she did. He clung to that expression, hoping it meant that she wasn’t counting out the idea on the whole.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that” Henry said disappointedly. “ So tomorrow then?”

“Let’s give Mr. Jones the chance to settle in a little before we beat down his door with invitations, okay? Now go grab your backpack. I’ve got to get back to the café and you’re coming with me.”

“Alright. See you later?” Henry asked Killian earnestly, as if he was a little afraid that Killian might make a run for it after everything.

“Aye, lad, I’ll be here,” Killian promised as Henry ran back into his house presumably to get his stuff. Both Killian and Emma watched him go but then something dawned on Killian – she’d just used his last name and Henry hadn’t mentioned it in their introduction.

“What?” Emma asked when he looked at her with a smirk on his lips. She went a little pink under his gaze and Killian immediately took to that with the same intensity that he had her laugh. God she was something else.

“You knew my last name already. Someone’s been gossiping about their new neighbor.”

It was a risk to put that theory forward, because perhaps there was a chance that she’d merely spoken with the previous owner or stumbled upon his name in passing at that café David mentioned, but when her jaw dropped and she went fully red Killian knew he was right on. Emma Swan had been curious about him, and now he just had to hope that she wasn’t disappointed with the results.

“I wasn’t gossiping. I just happened to hear a couple of things that’s all,” she said, her eyes struggling to meet his when she did.

Killian could have pressed her on this, but as it was he didn’t want to push. Right now he was in this incredibly easy, almost blissful state with a woman he’d only just met and he didn’t want this feeling to fall away. The last thing he’d ever want to do was cross a line and move this from playful banter to a misunderstanding and so he allowed Emma to pivot to a different subject.

“Anyway, thanks for watching out for Henry. I hope he wasn’t too much trouble. He can be a handful.”

“Not at all, love. You’ve done a good job with him. From what I can tell he’s bloody brilliant.”

The pride that Emma displayed at the compliment to her son was profound, and Killian could tell that she was the kind of mother who truly loved her boy more than anything. That was as it should be, and Killian certainly hadn’t told a lie. He did like Henry a lot, and he hoped to see him and his mother often.

“Yeah he is,” Emma whispered happily.

Before Killian could say anything more, and before he was even remotely ready to say goodbye to her, Henry was coming out the door again, and the moment was broken. Emma was back in the mindset of getting to work, and as much as Killian would love to make an excuse to go and see her and Henry there, he knew he shouldn’t. Coming on too strong too fast was a bad move and if he had any chance of continuing to get to know Emma, he had to give himself the space to figure out just exactly what he was feeling.

“It was a pleasure to meet you, Swan,” Killian said when she was just about to go and Emma turned back at him offering an enigmatic smile that had so much behind it that Killian was dying to figure out.

“Chocolate or vanilla?” She asked, the question totally taking him by surprise.

“What?” he asked, not knowing if he’d just dreamed up the question all together.

“It’s a simple question,” she clarified. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate, Swan. What do I look like a mad man?” he asked and she laughed again at that, this time in a lower way that tantalized the very fabric of his being when it washed over him.

“Chocolate it is,” she said and with that Emma Swan and her son were off, leaving Killian standing there and wondering what on earth she could have meant.

He discovered the answer to that a few hours later though, after he’d made a visit to David and gotten some more supplies for this surprising new roommate of his, when a basket arrived on his front door along with a note. Within the confines there were a substantial amount of treats that all had one single flavor in common – chocolate. He knew right then that they were from Emma, but the note she left with them sealed the deal.

Welcome to Storybrooke, neighbor. Glad you’re not a ‘mad man.’

And all night long after that Killian spent the evening enjoying the sweets he’d been left and thinking to himself that he was so incredibly right in coming here. For there was something truly special about Storybrooke and her name was Emma Swan.

Post-Note: So there we have it – Killian’s POV of the first day in Storybrooke. The nice thing about the coming chapters is that I am planning to go back to a dual point of view installment. This will mean more CS interaction and a faster pace, but I had a lot of things to set up for in this chapter and as such it ran a little long. Anyway, I hope you guys all enjoyed and thank you for reading.

#captain swan #captain swan au #captain swan fic #cs fic #cs ff #cs fluff #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #david nolan #elsa #the meddling friends #henry #ouat au #some call it magic #some call it magic au #some call it 2 #captain swan ff

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justauniform-blog · 6 years

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Beret (Similar) | Boring Jumper | Name Necklace

Well didn’t that come around quickly? 2018 is here and I tell you what, I can’t wait to get stuck in! I know it is oh so cliche but I have a really good feeling about this year. It’s an even number for starters and I had a really epic New Years Eve, the best in a long time, so ya know, it all looks pretty good from here.

This post is going to be filed under a new little category for Just A Uniform, called “My Thoughts On Life.” A category that I intend to develop throughout 2018, I want you to get to know me a bit better and vice versa. But before I get carried away with what’s to come, I just want to say 2017 was epic. I feel like it was the year that I really found my feet with Just A Uniform. It was a year of discovery, a year of growth and the year of laying solid foundations.The last month of 2017 was particularly phenomenal. I hosted a Facebook Live for HQ hair and Uni Days, was featured in Blogosphere Magazine by the ever so lovely Emma Mumford and took part in a live Style Panel, a la Blogosphere magazine also. Oh, and after what felt like I had been campaigning to become Prime minister, I hit 10k on Instagram. A goal I had secretly set my self at the beginning of 2017 and one I seriously couldn’t have met without you lovely lot. I was absolutely overwhelmed by the features on your social media channels and it made me realise what an amazing community I had grown during 2017. So thank you so so much for all your support, you truly rock!

Right so let’s go for it, twenty eighteen, what do I have planned?

justauniform dot com – It seems only fitting to start with justauniform.com. A new website is coming your way with a rebrand, well, with actual branding that you will associate with Just A Uniform. The past couple of years have been building up to this, I didn’t want to rush in to the branding of Just A Uniform till I truly knew what Just A Uniform was. I have been playing around with ideas throughout 2017 and I now know what Just A Uniform represents. Of course it is going to be bold and colourful, what you have come to expect from this part of the internet, but it is also going to be whole lot more profesh (as she says by writing a made up word). There is going to be a brand new website, which my amazing husband is in the process of building, it will more user friendly, allowing you to enjoy all my content in one place. It is also going to be a really fun place to be. I’m not going to let any more cats out of the bag on the design front, but you know I’ll be screaming about it from the rooftops as soon as it ready to go live.

Content wise for justauniform.com I am getting a whole lot more organised, a theme you will see running throughout this post. I’ll speak more about that in a bit. There will be 2 posts a week, a regular fashion post on a Saturday, then a post pretty much about anything and everything on a Thursday. This could range from beauty, to travel, to a post just like this about my thoughts on life. I can’t wait to create more content right here, justauniform.com is the only part of the web that is 100 percent mine. I love love love reading blogs, each day throughout 2018 I am going to read a blog a day, so keep leaving your links on my posts.

YouTube – 2018 is the year I up my YouTube game. During 2017 I dabbled in the weekly vlog and I blamin’ loved it. Creating videos makes me so happy, it’s a place where my personality can shine through and a place where you can get to know me better. I think some content is better on video. It appears that I may have lost the plot as I have planned to vlog every day in February, vlogbury as it will be known. Two of my favourite events happen at this time of year, my birthday and fashion week so it should be full of fun.

For the rest of the year expect to see the continuation of the weekly vlog, this will be on a Wednesday and then there will be another video on a Sunday too. The Sunday video will alternated between sit-down videos on a whole caboodle of topics and LookBooks. I really want to push style onto my channel, so stay tuned.

Presenting and Working with Brands – At the end of 2017 I started presenting for other brands on their social channels, and although being rather nerve racking to start with, I really loved it. I have always loved presenting and I am still convinced I would make an epic Children’s TV presenter. So yes, I would love to do more of this please universe. I’m really eager to do regular Instagram Lives on my channel too, collaborating with other influencers discussing subjects we’re both passionate about. I also dream of being on a TV advert for a brand. I’m just putting that out there, you know, in case you’re looking for someone?

Social Media and building a Community – So much has changed over the past year in terms of social media, I’m sure a word beginning with A has been the most typed word of 2017. Wind the clock back to this time last year, I was posting to Instagram daily and pretty much having heart palpitations if I missed a day. I no longer feel that way and I now aim to post 3 to 4 times a week. This year is quality over quantity on the ‘gram. And by quality I don’t just mean quality photos, I also mean quality time. Quality time engaging with you guys, taking time to reply to your comments / messages and to also taking time to check out your content too. Because let’s face facts, it’s not very social if it’s all one sided. Last year I aimed to interact on Twitter more, and I did, however I feel I can be even more interactive over there during 2018. It’s a great place to be involved in discussions, if you have any fab chats that you could recommend, do let me know. This year I have eradicated the dreaded number of followers target I have set myself in the past. As long as I am growing, my content is improving and you lovely lot are enjoying what you see, I will be one happy lady.

Jeans | Boots (similar)

New Ventures, Managing Time and FOMO – This year myself and the hubster (Jay) have set up our own social media management and website design company, which means there are now going to be two businesses on the go. I am soooo excited for this as it means I will get to work with Jay more and become the absolute dream team that I just know that we are. It will also be amazing to share Jay’s talents with the world and share my experience of social media with others. This business will also involve organising events with brands and influencers, particularly in Kent. In December I organised our first Kent influencer event for Iconic jewellery shop in Canterbury. It was a huge success for the brand but also for the Kent influencers. I am forever scouring the #kentblogger hashtag to find local influencers to be involved, so please do send me a mail if you’d like to be included. Equally if you’re a local business that needs help with your website or social media, we’re here… hello!!

So with all this going on of course I am going to have to manage my time better, there is a schedule and everything. To be honest I’m pretty good at working from home, I always get up early and go to my office as if I would if I worked in an actual office. The part that messes this up completely is my inability to say NO. I have complete fear of missing out, something my Dad highlighted a couple of months ago. So this year I only have time for ONE day a week for events, no more London 3 times a week. I assure you I am going to struggle with this, but there just aren’t enough days in the week.

Our Home – A few years ago we were lucky enough to build our house in the Kent Countryside. Due to time and my love of going on holiday A LOT, (sorry Jay) we haven’t got round to finishing it. Well 2018 is the year that this is going to happen! I will be documenting the progress along the way, with a interiors element to Just A Uniform, all I have to say right now is pink tiles.

Travel -Because of our house plans, travel is now on hold, well abroad anyway. I am a huge lover of travel, so to have a year off is going to require some severe will power. To ease the pain I plan to do the staycation Just A Uniform Style, visiting all of the colourful spots in the UK. I’m thinking cities, country retreats, seaside splendour, festivals, spas, basically if it’s in the U.K I want to know about it. This will also be an added section to justauniform.com and the YouTube. I’d love to know where you think I should go? I plan to make my first stop in Glasgow, I was born there and I have been desperate to go back. Expect to see a Glasgow Colour guide very soon.

Health – Nope this isn’t about loosing weight or getting back to the gym, new year, new me style. This is about looking after myself. You may be aware that in 2014 I got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes and ever since I’ve been up and down with how well I have been managing it. My current HbA1c (google it) levels are too high and well, they need to be better, that’s me being matter of fact about the whole thing. Basically I need to stop eating all the bad carbs, in fact, I could probably do with cutting most carbs out all together for a while. Health is never really something I talk about with you guys, as I don’t want diabetes to define me or stop me doing life. I am interested though to find out if you would like me to share my daily goings on with my health, maybe you have type 1 diabetes or maybe you’d like just to learn more. Anyhow let me know and I’ll see what I can do.Making Time for Offline – Here it is, the one that can be measured, the one that sort of is a New Years Resolution and the one I am failing at miserable so far. The problem with having a job that you love and therefor a job that never feels like a job is…… I AM ALWAYS WORKING, even if I don’t actually realise it. Yes that’s right, from the moment I wake up, to when I go to bed, actually normally when I’m in bed too, I am doing work. I am actually convinced the main reason I love baths so much is, you guessed it, because I can work from the bath. Oh and obviously because Lush bath bombs are what they say, the bomb. In 2018 I need to set some boundaries, have some time when you know, I don’t have a screen in my face. I’m considering having a day a week without said screen, yeah I have all the crazy ideas but I am pretty sure it is the right thing to do.

So there you have it 2018 (Okay 2006) words on what I hope 2018 will look like.

This time last year I left you with some quotes that I then lived my life by throughout 2017

They were:

1.Your vibe attracts your tribe.

2.Be a radiator, not a drain.

3.You only get what you give.

This year I am adding this to it:

Be everything to someone, not something to everyone.

Right, well I suppose I better get on, I’ve got rather a lot to do.

BIG LOVE,

Siobhan

Be Sure to check out my NEW shop my style section in the menu bar (top right).

Here’s a few of my style picks to get you going

[show_shopthepost_widget id=”2976029″]

2018 It’s Going to be Anything but Boring Well didn't that come around quickly? 2018 is here and I tell you what, I can’t wait to get stuck in!

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