#cs holiday

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Sleeps Ten, My Ass (1/2)

Summary: It's become tradition for Emma Swan to spend the holidays with her brother, their cousins, and their families. This Christmas was no different. The group booked a four night stay at a cozy mountain cabin to celebrate. The listing said it sleeps ten, but upon arrival they discover a small issue. The listing was wrong and now Emma and Killian Jones, the only two single people within their group, have to spend the next four nights sharing a bed. Fortunately... they've shared a bed before.

A/N: @eastwesthomeisbest it is I, your CS Secret Santa! Thank you for being so patient and understanding! I'm sorry I couldn't post this sooner, but between the normal busyness of the holidays and my entire family coming down with Covid, finding time to write was a struggle. I hope you find this worth the wait. It was lovely hearing about your traditions and I hope you had a fantastic holiday!

Thanks to @kmomof4 for looking this over for me and to the @cssecretsanta2020 for once again hosting a fantastic event. Side note, this fic also completes my Only One Bed: Holiday Edition CS Winter Bingo square!

Rated eventual E / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One

She was late. Super late. Incredibly late. Late enough that she was certain her brother had already called the cops to report her missing. Late enough that it was already pitch black on the back mountain road, forcing her to drive at a creeping speed so she didn’t careen off the side of a cliff, which was making her even more late.

In her defense, they should all have expected that she’d be late. She was always late. Every dinner, every holiday get together, every vacation, every celebration, Emma Swan was always notoriously late.

Not because she didn’t want to spend time with her family. Far from. She just… wasn’t always in control over her own schedule. Bail bonds and bounty hunting wasn’t exactly a 9 to 5 gig, and when a mark finally crawled out of whatever hole in which he (it was more often than not a he) had hid himself away through some dumbass attempt to avoid the consequences of his own dumbass actions, well… many times it meant a change in her plans.

Was it annoying? Yes.

Did she make sure to take out that frustration on the perp? Also, yes.

Was it even worse for the offender when he made her late for the Christmas get-together her cousin Elsa had planned for them all - a four night stay at a picturesque mountain cabin big enough to sleep three married couples and two singles with amenities that would keep them cozy and content over the holiday? Oh, yes.

Big. Fat. Yes.

To go with the big fat payout she needed in order to pay her portion of said holiday getaway.

Rounding another winding corner, the soft glow of the illuminated cabin stirred a strange mix of sensations in her chest; a swirl of relief at nearly being there and panic over what was awaiting her inside. Parking her bug next to the vehicles that signalled she was indeed the last to arrive, Emma fortified herself for a moment before exiting the vehicle, grabbing her bag, and marching up to the cabin as though she were about to face a firing squad.

David, her brother, and Liam, Elsa’s husband, would likely scold her with their hands firmly planted on their hips or their arms crossed tightly over their chests. The rebukes would be drowned out by David’s wife, Mary Margaret, and Elsa’ sister, Anna, who would both rush at Emma and force her into claustrophobic hugs while they expressed their worry and relief, offering Emma a blanket, a place by the fire, a plate of food, a cup of tea, all without taking a breath between them as Anna’s husband, Kristoff, tried to tell the women to let Emma breathe and get settled.

The only one who would not be making a fuss would likely already have a drink ready for her, a knowing smirk teasing his lips as he tried to stifle an eye roll at the group’s overreaction.

Killian Jones. Liam’s brother and the only other single member of their group.

Hand on the doorknob, Emma took a deep breath and opened the door to the expected chaos. And chaos there was, but… none of it seemed to be about her and her tardiness.

Elsa and David were in the kitchen. One of their phones, clearly on speaker, was held between them as they argued with whoever was on the other end of the line. Liam and Kristoff were seated at the dining table with a laptop open, the elder Jones frantically typing and clicking as Kristoff scrolled on his phone with a furrowed brow.

“There’s nothing up here that could be used as an extra one,” Anna called out from the top of the stairs. “Mary Margaret and I have looked through all the closets and checked all the furniture.”

None of them had noticed her presence yet, and she was about to say something when heavy boot falls sounded from the porch behind her.

“Ah, Swan. You arrived in one piece then?” Killian said cheekily with an arm full of firewood.

“Uh, yeah,” she replied, setting her bag down so she could help with the load he was carrying. “Sorry I’m late.”

“No worries,” he assured her, making his way to the fireplace and stacking their logs beside the hearth. “You missed the initial excitement, but you’ve made it in time to witness the spiral everyone has since descended into.” Emma glanced around the cabin at the said spiral, wondering what had set everyone off as Killian added a couple of logs to the fire, then grabbed the poker so he could stoke it. “I told them I’d make do on the couch, or even a pallet on the floor, but--”

“Sleeps ten, my ass!” Elsa shouted as she angrily hung up the call. “They swapped out the couch and forgot to update the listing!”

“What?” Emma said, but no one other than Killian seemed to have heard her, or even realized she was there.

“That’s ridiculous!” Liam bellowed. “What do they plan to do about it?”

“Can they bring an air mattress or cot?” Kristoff asked, still scrolling through his phone. “Because none of the local stores seem to have one, and even if they did, they’d be closed by the time we got back to town.”

Killian stepped away from the fire he’d coaxed back to life and into the metaphorical one building at the kitchen island where the rest of their group - save for Emma - had gathered.

“I already told you, the couch will be fine.”

“Don’t be silly, Killian,” Anna replied. “Have you seen that couch? It’s far too narrow and your feet are gonna dangle off the end.”

“Then the floor will suit me--”

“For the amount of money we spent renting this place, you are not sleeping on the floor,” Elsa declared. “I cannot believe this! How could they make a mistake like that?”

“What did the owner say?” Mary Margaret asked, setting out a platter of food she’d removed from the fridge and encouraging everyone to eat something… as though snacking would somehow fix the issue. An issue Emma still wasn’t sure was the cause of everyone’s upset.

“He won’t do anything,” Elsa snapped. “He said they had to replace the couch, which had been a sleeper, and apparently forgot to update the listing, but didn’t see the problem since we only have eight people, not ten, and there are four king size beds.”

“Didn’t you explain that there weren’t four couples, though?”

“Oh, she did,” David interjected. “But the man didn’t seem to care about anything other than getting back to his tropical Christmas vacation.”

“So what do we do?” Anna asked. “Where is Killian gonna sleep?”

“He and I can just share the bed.”

Seven heads collectively snapped in her direction, a mixture of shock and surprise being directed her way as her family, for the first time, realized she was there and then computed her words.

Words she would later blame on the fact that although no one seemed bothered by the fact she was late, she still felt the need to make up for it and therefore was compelled to offer a solution to the problem, even if said solution meant sharing a bed with a man she absolutely did not have feelings for and no one would convince her otherwise, not even her own treacherous heart, and thereby torturing herself for the next several days.

“Are you sure, love?” Killian asked, his eyes scrutinizing her, looking for any hint that she might be regretting the offer and wished to back out. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you weren’t completely comfortable with.”

“Are you planning to make it uncomfortable for her?” David asked in his overly protective, brotherly tone. “Because I’m warning you--”

“Warning him?” Liam braced his hands against the top of the island and leaned over it, staring David down as he asked, “Are you insinuating my brother is some sort of cad who would take advantage of--”

“We all know Killian’s reputation.”

“Okay,” Emma interjected before things could escalate further. “I think you’re all forgetting that I have a reputation, too. Of being able to take care of myself. Besides, I trust Killian. We’re both adults. There’s no reason for either of us to sleep on a couch or the floor when there is a perfectly good bed, big enough for us to share. So…” She marched back over to where she’d dropped her bag and collected it as she continued on, “If you don’t mind. I’ve had a long day and all I want right now is a shower and some sleep.” Directing her gaze to Killian she asked, “Where’s your stuff?”

“It’s uh…” he began, scratching behind his ear as he furtively cast a glance towards David. “It’s on the landing.”

“Great,” she said, turning towards the stairs. “Grab it on your way up so you can settle in while I shower.”

“Emma,” Mary Margaret called out. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat or--”

“I’m fine,” Emma answered back halfway up the stairs. “I’ll see you all in the morning.” Looking over her shoulder, she saw Killian hesitate at the bottom step. “Are you coming?”

“Aye,” he answered, following after her two steps at a time and grabbing his duffle before slipping into the room behind her.

Tossing his bag onto the bed, he glanced around the room and inquired one last time, “You’re certain you’re okay with this, Swan?”

“Yes, Jones,” Emma replied in an exasperated tone she hoped masked the nerves currently coursing through her. After gathering up her toiletry items, she straightened and faced him, a thought suddenly occurring to her. “Unless… You are uncomfortable with it and would rather--”

“No, no,” he insisted, his shoulders relaxing and his usual cocky demeanor coming forward. “It’s not that,” he said in a cheeky and slightly taunting tone.

“What is it then?” Emma asked, trying hard to not be taken in by his charm as he swaggered towards her.

“Well, I seem to remember you saying something about it being a one time thing the last time we shared a bed,” he crooned, twisting a section of her hair around his finger. “Seems you’ll have to eat those words now.”

Emma wet her lips and tried to squash the delighted feeling surging through her at the way his eyes dropped to follow the motion. “Bad form bringing up our… what did you call it?” she asked in a mocking tone as she cocked her head to one side. “Our dalliance?” He winced at her terrible attempt to mimic his accent and they both chortled as she reminded him, “I thought we agreed to never speak of that night again.”

“You’re right, Swan. Bad form indeed,” he conceded in a soft timbre. “My apologies, love.”

He backed away and retreated to the other side of the room where he made himself busy unpacking his duffle. “Go ahead and shower, Swan,” he said. “I’ll hop in after you.”

“Thanks,” she threw out over her shoulder as she shut herself in the bathroom, suddenly very eager to have a bit of separation from him. From him and the memory of that night. The night they had shared a bed - and a whole lot more - with one another after copious amounts of alcohol and hours on a dance floor somewhere in the Caribbean during the cruise they’d all taken together earlier that year to celebrate Liam and Elsa’s wedding.

A memory that stubbornly refused to be cast aside, making for a very long shower - a fitful, highly inappropriate shower - especially considering the man she’d been fixated on was in the next room, waiting on her to finish so he could get naked and wet and��

Dear God, Emma. Get a grip!

Emerging from the bathroom, adorned in her pajamas with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, Emma hoped the red in her cheeks would be chalked up to the heat of the shower and not because her fantasies had gotten away from her.

“All yours,” she said, pulling her hair dryer out of her bag and plugging it into the wall at the makeshift vanity.

She combed through the wet strands as Killian hovered at the doorway to the bathroom. Pausing her actions, she stared up at him expectantly, trying not to remember what he looked like shirtless.

“About before,” he said, his voice deep with an edge of concern. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by bringing up that night, I just…” He left out a heavy breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I was just trying to bring a bit of levity to an otherwise tense situa--”

“Killian,” she said, waving him off. “It’s fine. Really. You didn’t upset me by bringing it up.” Shrugging, she tried to give off a sense of nonchalance about the whole thing. “It happened. We’ve both moved on from it. No big deal.”

“Right,” he said with a bit of a drawl. “Well… I’ll try not to take too long, so as to not keep you up.” Glancing towards the bed, he said, “I hope it’s okay that I took that side. I didn’t know if you had one you preferred.”

Emma turned to see which side he’d taken. Not that it mattered.

“Honestly,” she answered, “I don’t really have one. It’s not like I share my bed often enough with anyone to develop a preference.”

“Aye. Same,” he replied with that adorable lopsided smile of his.

Emma’s heart fluttered for several seconds after he disappeared into the bathroom. He didn’t often share his bed? Really? Like David had said earlier, Killian had a bit of a reputation as a ladies’ man. It was one of the reasons she’d pulled back after their night together; she’d hated being just another notch on his bedpost.

How many notches had he added since her, she wondered.

She had plenty of time to contemplate that question. It wasn’t until well after she’d dried her hair, set her alarm, and settled under the covers that Killian emerged from the bathroom. The last drowsy thought Emma had was whether he’d taken advantage of the memory of them together to help let off some steam whilst he was in the shower like she had. She didn’t get a chance to dwell on the thought, though. The tiring day had caught up to her and sleep took over the moment she felt the bed dip beside her.

~/~

“Morning, Emma! Sleep well?”

Anna’s voice was far too perky for the current early morning hour, causing Emma to grimace as she shuffled past the red headed woman on her way to the kitchen.

“Oh, sorry,” Anna whispered, tiptoeing behind her. “Coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot.”

“Please,” Emma grumbled, slumping down onto one of the barstools at the island. “A fresh pot? How early did you get up?”

“Mary Margaret and I got up with the guys,” she said, pouring Emma a cup, then placing it and a tray of fixings on the counter top in front of her. “We wanted to make sure they got a good meal and some coffee before they headed out.”

Emma nodded her understanding, adding enough sugar to her cup that it would have earned her a disgusted look from Killian had he been there and not out traipsing through the woods with an axe. It was an annual tradition at this point. For the past five years - ever since the Jones brothers had entered their lives through Liam and Elsa’s courtship - the guys went out on Christmas Eve morning and cut down a tree for them to decorate. While they were out finding the perfect specimen, Mary Margaret would lead - or in Emma’s case, berate - the girls in making the decorations. The guys would join in once they got back and set up the tree, and the day would be spent stringing popcorn or dried oranges or cranberries for garland as well as attempting to avoid tiny cuts from the origami-esque construction of paper or cardboard ornaments.

There were also snacks and cocktails, the occasional break from crafting to watch a Christmas movie or play a game. Of course, every year, Emma and Killian would insist they watch Die Hard, which Mary Margaret would dismiss as not being a Christmas movie and an argument would ensue - mostly because it gave both Emma and Killian a perverse sense of pleasure to rile up Mary Margaret. Not that they didn’t love the movie or wholeheartedly believe that it was, in fact, a Christmas movie.

“Oh, Emma! You’re up!” Mary Margaret set down a stack of boxes on the island, the contents of which held various crafting supplies no doubt. “Did you get some breakfast?”

Emma shook her head and waved off the woman’s attempt to feed her. “Not yet,” she said. “I’ll get something after I’m sufficiently caffeinated.”

“Well drink up,” Mary Margaret ordered as she began to retreat back into the room she and David were using. “We need to get going on these decorations.”

A moment later she returned with several sacks and with Anna’s help, began organizing the supplies. Emma took that as her cue to find another place to enjoy her coffee.

Glancing out the French doors that led to the back deck she caught sight of a platinum blonde braid. Emma grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders before joining Elsa in the peace and quiet of the mountain morning.

“Hey,” she said, pulling Elsa’s attention away from the view. “Mind if I join you?”

“Please do,” Elsa replied, making room on the bench. “Do you want me to turn on the heater?”

It shouldn’t have surprised Emma that her cousin hadn’t already started the propane heater. The cold had never seemed to bother her like it did Emma.

“No, I’ve got it.” Emma cranked up the heat then sat down, snuggling into the blanket she’d brought out with her.

“Sleep okay?” Elsa asked. “Any problems with the room?”

“No,” Emma answered, taking a sip of her coffee before adding, “The room’s great. Very comfortable.”

“Good,” Elsa said, turning her attention back towards the snowy mountain view. “And sharing with Killian? That, uh… Did that go okay?”

Emma rolled her eyes and hid her knowing smirk behind her mug. “It was fine,” she replied.

“I mean, I’m sure Killian was a gentleman, I just hate that the two of you have to endure this awkwardness when I did my best to--”

“Elsa,” Emma interrupted. “It isn’t your fault, and we will make do. It’s fine. Really.”

The icy blonde’s shoulders relaxed and a puff of exhaled air lingered at her lips for a moment before she said, “Good. I’m glad.” With a furtive glance in Emma’s direction she muttered, “Let’s just hope David thinks it's all fine.”

“I’m a big girl,” Emma reminded her cousin. “David will get over it.”

“I don’t know,” Elsa replied in a sing-song tone. “He was looking pretty hostile this morning when Killian sauntered down the stairs with a whistle on his lips. I’m pretty sure Liam made sure to be the one who took the axe when they left.”

The two women shared a chuckle, both of them knowing full well there was no danger of the men resorting to violence, even if they did bluster a bit.

“I’m sure Killian is reveling in the opportunity to needle David, but I trust Liam to make sure cooler heads prevail.”

“And his needling wouldn’t have any elements of truth in it, right?” Elsa inquired, not so subtly.

Emma sighed exasperatedly. “No,” she stated adamantly. “Nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen.”

She shifted uncomfortably under Elsa’s scrutiny, her piercing blue eyes cutting through her assertions as she hummed a dubious sound.

“If you say so.”

Emma was about to double down on her words, but was cut off by Anna’s sudden appearance.

“Everything is ready! Come make decorations with us!”

Emma and Elsa shared a resigned look then followed Anna back into the cabin, after shutting off the heater, of course. The ladies then spent the next hour or so making handmade decorations whilst also prepping food items for the upcoming meals.

When the guys returned, Emma stayed out of the way. She’d learned from years past to just let David, Liam, Mary Margaret, and Elsa duke it out on the best way to set up the tree. While the four of them conferenced in the living room, she joined Anna in the kitchen, who was busy making everyone a hot cocoa.

“Need a hand?”

“Yes, please!”

The two women filled and garnished mugs of hot cocoa while every so often peeking outside to watch Kristoff and Killian clean up the tree. Once it was suitable for indoors - and they’d gotten the final word of where to set it up - the men brought it inside and secured it in the stand. Everyone stood back to admire the magnificent find as Emma and Anna handed out the beverages.

“Jones,” Emma said, offering him a hot cup as she came to stand beside him.

“Thank you, love,” he replied, slightly out of breath. A half-smile pulled at his lips and crinkled at the corner of his eyes when he noticed she’d adorned his in the same manner as hers - with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon. It was how she’d always taken her cocoa and slowly but surely she was converting the rest of their group to do the same.

“It’s a great looking tree,” she commented, sipping her hot chocolate nonchalantly so he wouldn’t read too much into her compliment.

“Aye,” he said, taking another long look at the fruit of his and the other men’s labor. A fruit that was quickly filling the living room with a pungent pine scent that tickled Emma’s sinuses. “And what of your efforts?” he asked, turning his attention onto her. “Care to show me what you lasses have been working on and how I might assist?”

Emma rolled her eyes and led him to the dining table where he prompted her to give him a demonstration of the crafting. Soon, the others joined them and the day went on just as Emma knew it would: completing the decorations, stringing lights and garlands, decorating the tree, gorging themselves on a big meal, partaking in snacks, then some drinks, then some more drinks, and arguing over then watching several Christmas themed movies and shows. Unfortunately, no Die Hard.

“You know, Swan,” Killian whispered in her ear as everyone began to disperse from the living room to turn in for the night. “We have a TV with streaming services in our room…”

The feel of his breath against the shell of her ear, as well as the way he said ‘our room’ sent a thrill up her spine.

Fortunately, he didn’t seem to notice.

Was it fortunate?

“Your point?” she said, her voice a little too breathy, but maybe he’d think it was because they’d just climbed the steep steps to the second floor.

“My point,” he continued, following her into their - THE - room, “is once we’ve showered and readied ourselves, we can watch Die Hard in bed and celebrate the season properly.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jones,” she replied, even as her heart skipped a few beats at the reminder they’d both be taking turns getting naked and wet with only a flimsy door that did not lock between them.

Ever the gentleman, Killian let her go first. While he took his turn, she busied herself with getting ready for bed, queuing up the movie, and adding an extra blanket to the stack of covers. In no time, they were settled on their respective sides of the bed, enjoying watching John McClane run around Nakatomi Plaza barefoot whilst being a ‘fly in the ointment’ to Hans Gruber.

They both barely remained conscious, but somehow got to the credits before crashing. The constant recitation of dialogue probably helped.

At some point in the night, a rustling sound in the corner of the room stirred Emma. Instinctively, she reached over to feel for Killian, only to find his side of the bed empty.

“Killian?” she croaked out, his name heavy on her tongue from sleep. “What are you--”

“The heat went out,” he told her, making her aware of her own shivering and the frigid air of the room. “Elsa is having kittens over it,” he went on to explain. “Giving the owner a right earful as we speak.”

A low hum and soft glow began to fill the room. Killian stood and visibly shook himself before heading back to bed.

“What’s that?” Emma asked, shifting in bed and moving closer to the middle.

“Space heater,” Killian answered, still shivering from the cold. “The owner relented and gave us the code to the storage closet. There were a few of these in there.”

Emma hummed in response, her mind weighing whether to bring up the idea of--

“Swan?”

“Yeah?”

“Would you mind if we… that is,” he hedged, clearing his throat. “Until the heater manages to raise the temperature, would you be okay if we…”

“Sure,” she said, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically as she scooted closer to him.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured, his chest already plastered against her back and his face buried in the crook of her neck.

Emma moaned in relief, the heat of his body already warming her and staying the chills that had made her tense. In an effort to find a comfortable position for her legs - without entangling them with his - she rocked her hips back into his and felt…

“Bloody hell,” Killian grumbled in an embarrassed tone as he pulled away. “Apologies, Swan. I didn’t intend--”

“Killian,” she laughed, rolling over to face him. “It’s fine. It happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I just don’t want you to think I have ulterior motives for suggesting--”

“I don’t,” she assured him. “I know guys can’t always control… that.”

“Well, I am usually much more in control of such things, I assure you.”

“I’m sure you are,” she said in an appeasing tone, earning her a side-eyed glare. “Seriously, though,” she continued, trying to coax him back to her. “Your morning wood doesn’t offend me, so will you please come back here.”

He relented after some not so gentle tugging, and a moment later they were once again entwined in the other’s arms.

“Mmmm,” Emma hummed, nestling a bit further into his chest. “How are you always so warm? I feel like I’m always cold.”

As Emma drifted off to sleep she was certain she heard him say, “I know, love. But I’ll always be here for you when you need to keep warm.”

Part Two

[cursedslimecicle]

Day 30: Happy Holidays

[midnight-mourning]

DECEMBER IS OVER!!! New Year, What's Next?

Well chat, with literally three minutes to spare we finished out DCA December IN December, and then of course you got a little bonus thingy as well hehe :)

So! Having said that, wanted to take a moment to talk about some plans, what to expect to see from me next, and so on

BUT FIRST, I would like to take the time to thank everyone who sent in requests for this little event, I appreciated every single one of them, and had SO much fun writing, I hope everyone enjoyed the little stories I wrote, couldn't have done it without everyone sending in such creative & unique ideas, thank all of you so much!

@monsteractiasluna @juukai @deviouscrackers @zenkaiankoku @buzzybee3 @fishm0ther @divinit3a @zoranight16 @cosmic-quakes @soupdweller @lizyxml @pip-plz @theinfamousmaybelle @lizyxml (again <3) @rosescarletful @crystalmagpie447 @buzzybee3 (again <3) @kaprisvn @vypridae @twomanypockets @zenkaiankoku (again <3) @juukai (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3) @rosescarletful (again <3 <3 thank u tempest you helped feed the people fr) @twomanypockets (again <3) @pip-plz (again <3) @divinit3a (again <3) @baby-bloos @alynwrench @baby-bloos (again <3) @ccccaptain-clownyyy @luckyyyduckyyy

Additionally, thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, or commented on these fics, it's so very appreciated (I would tag everyone but there are, a startingly large amount of you 😅) I will come clean and admit that I am always a little nervous when I upload my writing, so knowing that people enjoy my work when I share it is, humbling, to say the least <3

Okay! Now to get into it, below the cut just so people dont have to scorll through my rambling plans & such (there is a POLL however that even if you skip my nonsense you should vote in pretty please ^-^)

So, despite some shortcomings with me getting a bit behind (curse you sinus infection & finals week) I'm really happy with how this went!

I'll be taking a break for a bit and def will NOT be posting as much as I did near the end there, BUT I'll still be writing per usual, especially since I have two weeks left to my break. Before I get into what you can expect to see, wanted to do a quick interest check on whether people would like me to do something similar for Valentine's!

Since I'll be back at college again I won't be able to do a full month again, buuuut, I should be able to handle 14 days worth, if the interest is there I would open up requests probably the last week of January so I had time to get started/ahead. So,

Rules would be the same as for DCA December, except with a Valentine's Theme!

Now that that's taken care of, here's what'll be going on with me as we start 2025!

I'm working on Holiday Spirit ch. 2, should be posting either today or tomorrow! Still aiming to get it done before I go back to school so expect quicker updates now that requests are finished :) (you can find out more about this story here)

Confused Spirit ch. 36 is also in the works! I'll be honest in that my sinus infection JUST cleared up a week or so ago, and additionally i've been facing a bit of writer's block with the story just bc of where we're at and I want to make sure it's really good/properly expresses what I'm going for with this fic, but I'm working on getting more out to you all soon, as well as working on getting ahead again while I have time, thank you all for your paitence with this one, it's very appreciated <3 (if you don't know about Confused Spirit, you can find out more here, it's my current main dca project :D)

DCA December will be reviewed for spelling and grammar mistakes and be uploaded to ao3 throughout January, if you'd like to read anything again (or you're wanting to get caught up and have a better reading experience) you can see the masterpost here, which will have the ao3 link once I get started on editing

Getting into non-fic things, I'll also be working on organizing my blog so things are easier to find as I know it's a bit messy currently >_< bear with me as it gets fixed up

I really want to improve on my art! After collecting things up for my 2024 art summary, i realized I've improved a lot but still have more room to grow (and many ideas that I want to see made by a more skilled hand >~<) so, expect to see some art things from me floating around including but not limited to: my trick or treat responses (im sorry these are so late, it's brutal out here), Cast of CS refs, more Holiday Spirit doodles, magma things, CS chapter promos, & new refs for the CS boys! there's some more things i have planned but I am keeping them a secret for now ;)

Okay! Think that's everything, thanks again to everyone for making this a whole lot of fun, and can't wait to share more with you all in 2025! Happy New Year!

[lunaoblonsky]

[noahschnappinfs]

The Schnapp twins are so cute and it’s certainly not a video with Noah if he’s not being a klutz 😭😭💙

just look at them: one second they are killing it while looking like twin models and the next they are having fun with noah being his usual clumsy self lol

[crossstitchpatterns]

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "We Gather Together (Glad for the Blessings)"

This week's rerun is another little Thanksgiving one shot, meant to be taking place somewhere at the end of Season 6. I realize that Thanksgiving was over on Thursday, but I still wanted to share the little offerings I had for this sometimes overlooked holiday. I feel like it would be a very special and important holiday for both Emma and Killian - seeing as it's so much about family and togetherness with those you love, and both of them lived without that for so long.

Anyway, this is divergent from canon due to Robin's being alive and Belle not taking Rumple back, but otherwise I think it pretty much could have happened. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday yourselves, and that you enjoy this small story to celebrate the occasion!

** Also available on AO3 or ff.net (if that's your preference)***

Summary: A bit of Thanksgiving fluff - and a lovely, quiet moment for the whole Charming-Jones-Mills family count their blessings and rejoice in how far they've come

by: @snowbellewells

Barreling into the kitchen calling out "Henry?! Killian?!", Emma Swan was already well into panic mode due to the charred, burning smell that had reached her nostrils as soon as she'd mounted the steps to the front porch and the plumes of gray smoke wafting into her vision in the entryway once she opened the door. She was skidding to a stop at the kitchen table before she realized that, though the fire alarm had been bleating raucously, there were no sounds of panic or yells of dismay. Instead, both of her True Loves were now frozen, looking to her guiltily like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Killian was bent over the open stove, and Henry had his arm outstretched, fanning the air with a hot pad. They appeared to have been happy as clams until her sudden entrance..

Clearly they weren't in any immediate danger, and Emma's posture relaxed upon seeing that the house wasn't burning down and neither her son nor her pirate was blackened to a crisp. Shaking her head at them both, she genuinely tried to look stern instead of relieved and ready to burst out laughing. Crossing her arms, she mused aloud, "Do I even want to know what the two of you are doing?"

Sighing in defeat, Killian stood to his full height, letting the oven door bang closed and not quite meeting her reproving gaze as he raked a hand through his hair. He darted a quick glance at Henry, then finally answered her question. "We were trying to help you, Swan. It seemed prudent to get started with the main course before hosting your entire family tomorrow, and the lad felt sure he could offer guidance on the proceedings."

Henry flushed as Killian gestured toward him, and shrugged sheepishly, looking up at her with big brown eyes that, though in an older face, still proved as irresistible to her as when he'd showed up on her doorstep as a ten-year-old. "I may have overestimated how closely I was watching my other mom the last time she did this."

Emma couldn't help it; her metabolism did tick up a few notches and her eyes widened in shocked dismay. "Oh no, don't tell me… Do you mean to say you guys ruined that 19 pound Butterball I had all ready in the freezer?"

Killian winced a bit at her reaction. "Come now, Lass, it isn't as if we did it on purpose. You were just saying last night how you wanted everything to be perfect, you've never been able to celebrate a real family Thanksgiving with all the trimmings before, and everything should be just right. We only wished to help you along."

Emma gave an exaggerated nod as she responded, "Ah, I see," before a knowing light slipped into her eyes while studying one and then the other to see who would crack first. "Just selfless action from the good of your hearts, was it?"

Henry nodded, pulling off a ridiculously innocent look, but Killian couldn't quite meet her gaze, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his dark hair and eyelashes like a poor, repentant rascal. "Well, Swan, if the truth be told, we might have become a bit distracted…"

"I thought so," she affirmed with one last quick, triumphant dip of the head.

"Yes, well," Killian hemmed and hawed adorably, and Emma was almost afraid she might bite through her lip trying not to laugh out loud. The whole kitchen mishap was already long forgiven, but watching him stutter in embarrassment like he often caused her to do was too priceless to end just yet. "Love, your boy's moving picture box sucks a man in with its programs. Are you sure it doesn't possess some sort of hypnotic magic of its own? Perhaps we should not let Henry…"

"Okay, okay, hold up," Henry broke in anxiously, not about to see his stepdad - much as he might love him - relegate him back to the Stone Age with concern over modern technology.

Emma couldn't hold back her dissolution into helpless giggles any longer, and Killian stopped short with an affronted look at the noisy interruption from both of them at once. After a few moments, Emma reined in her laughter, assured Henry he wouldn't be losing all television privileges, and turned with the both of them to survey the wreck that had been her nice, clean kitchen when she'd left that morning. "Well boys, let's see what we can salvage," she said at last.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

In the end, the turkey is magicked to golden brown perfection for the holiday meal. Emma had hoped to succeed at doing it the old fashioned way, but after seeing the damage Killian and Henry had wrought with their attempt – and though she only admitted it to herself, knowing either one of them was better in the kitchen than she was, when not unfortunately sidetracked – she decided there was no sense in further risking the main course she intended to serve to company.

She, Killian, and Henry did spend a warm, domestic, evening making the accompanying side dishes together. After placing a tray of butterhorn rolls in the oven to cook, Emma turned to see Henry flip a spoonful of cranberry sauce at Killian, hitting him square on the nose and making him jerk back in surprise at the splat of impact.

"Hey now," her pirate warned, glowering as he raised a spoonful of stuffing for a counterattack.

Emma thought idly that she should be warning them not to waste food, not to destroy their kitchen for a second time in one day, and basically chide them both to behave themselves, but instead she could merely watch as author and pirate mounted a giddy food fight she eventually joined, hugging herself tightly so she didn't simply burst with the joy swelling up inside her, so full of gratitude for both of them, for a home and family at last, and for this moment in which to enjoy it all. Thanksgiving, indeed.

That night when Henry had settled into his own room and the house had grown quiet, Emma stopped Killian as he left the bathroom after brushing his teeth, biting her lip at the all-too-inviting sight of him in dark blue lounge pants with little white anchors printed on them that he wore for sleep and all that dark hair on his toned and scarred chest. He looked upon her with a curious quirk to his brow, but didn't question her, only wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his forehead to rest against her own.

Enveloped in his warmth, Emma grew almost dizzy at the minty fresh breath he exhaled against her neck and nearly lost her train of thought altogether, but she pulled out the item she had intended to show him. It was the wishbone from their turkey, and she held it out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?"

"Aye," Killian answered, though she could tell by his expression he had no clue why she would draw his attention to it. "It's some part of that fowl we prepared for tomorrow's feast, but why…"

He trailed off when she twined the fingers of her free hand with his and brought his hand up to grip the opposite end of the wishbone from the one she held. "They're for wishing on," she explained briefly, playful mirth in her eyes. "People pull them apart and whoever gets the larger piece makes a wish that is then supposed to come true."

"Alright Lass, if you say so," he agreed gamely, a bit of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth now as well.

Holding her breath, Emma thought of all the times she had wanted to do this as a kid and had never been the one who got the wishbone. Or all the times as an adult that she'd had it, but no one in her empty apartment to hold the other end, or to appreciate the wish she'd made, nor share in her joy if it did come to fruition. As the fragile bone snapped and they looked down to the pieces in their hands, Emma and Killian found it had broken almost evenly, and so she whispered, not wanting to break the calm stillness in the room, "Let's say we both wish…together."

Killian merely nodded and closed his eyes as she did. When she opened them again, it was to meet his blue, blue gaze shining back at her. She had the feeling they'd wished for the exact same thing…many more years of holidays like this.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

The blessed feeling carried over to the family dinner the next day. Sitting at the head of the long table in the dining room of a home of her very own – hers, Henry's and Killian's – the first time she'd ever had such a thing, Emma felt as though the whole scene was bathed in some sort of golden light, like she was living inside a perfect Norman Rockwell painting. The table surface was packed, crammed, overloaded with food – from the golden brown, crisp-skinned, turkey and their perfectly toasted, flaky butterhorns to Regina's apple dumplings, green beans, noodles, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. The ten-year-old foster child inside her nearly drools at the bounty, never quite able to banish the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners missed, the times she had sat alone in some cafeteria, eyes fixed on the food other students carelessly tossed in the bins which she would have loved to have while she had been packed nothing to eat and had no money to buy even a carton of milk, of the times she had gone to bed in a rickety bunk, stomach growling and unable to stop fixating on those cabinets full of snacks that were off limits. Seeing Henry to her right, Emma ruffled his hair affectionately for just a second before he turned to grin at her proudly. He was clearly as pleased as she was that their time spent cooking the previous evening had given them this much to show for it. Moreover, she could only rejoice that he had never known the lonely, starving days she had, and the fact that neither she nor Killian ever would again.

She gave her father a nod of confirmation where he sat at the other end of the table, leading him to grin widely, the warm look of love and happiness on his face making her feel even more that this moment really was all she had been missing – all she had ever wanted – all those years she spent alone. As David stood to carve the turkey and Snow alternated between beaming up at her husband proudly and passing the plates now loaded up with juicy slices of turkey down the table, Emma squeezed Killian's hand with her left, and he cut a knowing glance at her, showing clearly that he understood and felt it too.

Beside Henry sat Belle, then Snow, and across from Henry were Regina, Robin, and Roland. It would seem that their family continued to grow and warmly open to welcome into its circle anyone with nowhere else to belong on this day meant to be spent with loved ones. As she had wished for that very thing each holiday season for 28 years, Emma could think of no better nor more heroic thing for her family to do.

Once everyone had been served – both turkey and all the other dishes filling the long table – Killian stood with raised glass, even as Emma tapped her spoon against her own to garner everyone's attention for him. "A toast, mates, if I may," Killian announced jovially in that rich, enticing voice. Emma shivered slightly at the way its tones thrilled through her, though trying to give no outward sign; she would gladly listen to him read the ingredients of the box for the stuffing, but she knew everyone else was hungry and ready to dig in, so her heart swelled just that much more when the others around their table dutifully paused and turned to listen to him with genuine interest and agreement.

"I daresay I shan't keep us from this delectable feast for long," her pirate intoned, "but I have more to be grateful for this year than I have ever possessed in my ridiculously long life, and my thanks must be offered…"

He paused, meeting the eyes of each of those gathered around the table briefly, and then continued with a fervent tone which came out sounding a bit choked with emotion. "When I first arrived in this realm, still lost in my bitterness, anger, and thirst for revenge, I could not have imagined a day like this, full of peace, love, and gratitude. Emma, Love, when you offered me the chance to join you and be a part of something, and we undertook that desperate quest to Neverland, the idea that we could come to belong to each other as we do now, that you would hold my heart in your very palm, or that I would find myself with a true family again, seemed inconceivable. Yet, I am so glad you gave me that last chance, like a line thrown in the drink to a drowning man. It saved my life, turned me back around to the man I once meant to be. My thankfulness to be here with all of you today cannot be adequately expressed." He swallowed hard, dipped his head, and then took his seat again. "You have all blessed us with your presence at our table."

"Cheers!" everyone else agreed, raising their glasses to clink with each other around the table, several other eyes misty and voices husky with feeling besides their captain's. Emma blinked quite a bit herself, glancing around at their motley crew.

Her fingers reached across to trail lightly over Killian's shoulder, stroking his back soothingly for a few moments and then rising to delve playfully into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Brushing gently through the soft strands, Emma smiled affectionately as his head inclined slightly toward her, thinking humorously that if he were a cat, her sailor would be nearly purring in contentment right now. This moment deserved to be captured – preserved – in her mind forever; she couldn't feel any more stuffed with grateful satisfaction.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

It was nearly midnight when the last of their guests had been seen to the door and out into the chilly dark of Storybrooke's nighttime streets. Henry had gone with Regina; they had a tradition of shopping, followed by decorating the mayor's mansion for Christmas, and then capping the evening off with homemade apple turnovers running over with icing on their day after Thanksgiving. Emma marveled at Henry's blithely forgiving ability to still eat the things with relish after nearly dying from one bit of just such a poisoned pastry also made by Regina long ago. Still, she couldn't deny she was also glad to have her pirate to herself this night – a true quiet moment for the two of them.

They were curled around each other on the couch in the living room, watching flames crackle merrily in the fireplace, feet up on the coffee table, each of them enjoying a sweet taste of leftover pumpkin pie.

"Open up, Darling," Killian urged, fork upraised to her lips with a piece of sticky filling and flaky crust adorned with the sweet white topping she loved. Emma really didn't need him to feed her, but she playfully went along with his gesture and hummed in pleasure when the flavors exploded on her tongue.

"Mhmm, really good," she mumbled, her mouth still full, but nodding her head and moving to get a piece on her own fork and return the favor for him.

Killian's deep, reverberating chuckle stopped her though, and he leaned forward just enough to wrap his lips around the tip of her nose, licking off the bit of whipped cream he'd gotten on her moments before. It was a mostly innocent gesture, but his proximity, the warmth of the near kiss, and the fact that they were truly – finally – alone, relaxed, and had nowhere else to be, had her heart hammering triple time as she sat up quickly, unfolded her legs and pulled him up with her.

"Come on, Pirate," she spoke a little breathlessly, a devilish gleam in her eyes, "we can finish this later."

It didn't take him long to catch on and follow her eagerly, still chuckling with his hand in hers, as she picked up the can of whipped cream from the coffee table where she'd placed it earlier and hurriedly pulled him upstairs.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @bdevereaux @motherkatereloyshipper @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandomfanatic @lfh1226-linda @bluewildcatfanatic

[theultracharmingladynoire]

How the fuck do I finish studying this today

[yundeob]

A NIGHT IN HOLLYWOOD ☆ | ATEEZ SERIES

— featuring ot8!ateez in iconic HOLLYWOOD romance and rom-com movies

— TICKET BOOTH IS CLOSED! 🎟️ : the movies are about to start! all fics will have MATURE CONTENT! MDNI!

sit back, relax, grab your popcorn and tissues, and enjoy the silver screen . . .

THE PARENT TRAP ☆ | KHJ

TROPE: exes to lovers! divorced!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

— IN THEATRES

DIRTY DANCING ☆ | PSH

TROPE: bad boy!seonghwa, enemies to lovers!au , 60s!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, angst, crack

THAT WAS THE SUMMER before JFK got shot, before the beatles came, and when you were working part time at your aunts summer resort. That was also the summer you met resident heart breaker and cocky entertainment crew member, Park Seonghwa. Remind yourself why you’re suddenly dance partners with him again? . . .

— IN THEATRES

PRETTY WOMAN ☆ | JYH

TROPE: dilf!yunho x formerstripper!reader, strangers to lovers!au, contract lovers!au,

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

LIVING IN BEVERLY HILLS comes with its perks. But for two different people such as yourself and multimillionaire business tycoon, Jeong Yunho, both of you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for in the so called ‘Land of Dreams’. So the proposal is simple really… let him spoil you with money, jewelry and clothes while in return, you stay by his side. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

MR AND MRS KANG ☆ | KYS

TROPE: marriage!au, established relationship, spy!au, assasin!au

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST, crack

WHO WOULD’VE THOUGHT picture perfect suburban neighbourhood couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kang would be at each others necks trying to kill each other first. You’ve both come this far in your marriage while hiding your secret identities, but it looks like only one person can remain standing. I guess you both did promise “in sickness and in health”. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMAN HOLIDAY ☆ | CS

TROPE: royalty!au, princess!reader x reporter!san, strangers to lovers!

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst

AS CROWN PRINCESS, you’re on a tightly scheduled tour of European capital cities. But after an especially rough day in Rome, you sneak out of the embassy to explore the so called Eternal City, running into no other than celebrity news reporter, Choi San, looking out for his next big royal scandal. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU ☆ | SMG

TROPE: college!au, stoner!mingi, enemies to lovers!au, fakedating(?)au, y2k aesthetic

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

YOUR YOUNGER BROTHER Wooyoung is desperate in getting you, his older sister in college, to date so that he can finally date in highschool. The options for potential candidates are scarce, considering men flock away like birds the second you’re near. Good thing campus stoner and weirdo, Song Mingi is the same as well. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS ☆ | JWY

TROPE: fashioncolumnist!reader x advertiser!wooyoung, y2k aesthetic, fake dating(?)au, enemies to lovers!au, mutual pining

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, crack, slice of life

LISTEN, IF IT MEANS getting a promotion at your editorial company as a news journalist instead of pop culture and lifestyle columnist, you’d do anything. And that includes pretending to be the most annoying and clingiest girlfriend to some guy for 10 whole days. But just so you know, Wooyoung likes clingy. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

ROMEO & JULIET ☆ | CJH

TROPE: unrequited love, star crossed lovers!au, mutual pining, secret romance (shakespeare be rolling in his grave rn)

TAGS: nsfw, smut, fluff, ANGST

FOR CENTURIES, a plague of hatred and hostility has been present in the relations between the House of Choi and your own. You know you can’t be together, but yet why do you keep catching that dark haired boy staring at you so longingly? And why do you want him just as bad?. . .

— not yet in theatres . . .

a/n: for updates, follow my blog! this will be a work-in-progress so I ask for your support:(🙏

taglist: @vent-stink @dazzlingstarrs @vcutparis @xpixie @potatos-on-clouds @showingmafandomlove @bibbleypoof @kpop-will-kill-me @avantalem @beabatiny @gabrielle-brugger @nsixns @amaranth1ne @stayminho @myblovedjyh @kkeshia @rebekah-reads @yoonbroom @4kwp @butterflydemons @iwaizumiismybae @soobinsputnik @stayatinykatsy @atitties @justconniez @kitten4sannie @ghostskilledmyaddiction21 @cheolsthicthighs @morethingsfandom @geminiml95 @byuntrash101 @quailbagutte @syubseokie @newworldwritings @urmom26john @sleepy-kat-here @pearltinyy @hjshyhyssnmgwyjh @cursedeastern @starryunho @piratekingateez2001 @jiminbility @paumll @drinkingrumandcocacola @roomsofangel @channies-bbg-room @meanaonthemoon @teeztopia @pommelex @kiln9z @sanhwalvr @youresolivlie @edawg77 @a-0206 @summer-gyu @bvidzsoo @yoongzsmile28 @tournesol155

taglist became too long so find the second taglist here💀 no longer taking requests

11/1/25 update: i apologize for how slow this is taking😭 yes, i still am 100% fully committed to finishing this series! I ask for your patience and understanding🫶🏼

[midnight-mourning]

Alright! By a landslide, y'all have named the silly holiday fic the silly title, well done

Working on ch. 2, got behind doing other things/needed a little break from writing for a few days (more than I thought 😅)

Addtionally, I'll be uploading Ch. 1 to ao3 soon, and when I post chapters from now on the ao3 link will be included, thanks for voting and see you soon!

He’s a Little Confused but He's Got the Holiday Spirit

Hello! As the title implies, it's time for this to become a fic, for those that don't know, I wrote a prompt response that's basically a christmas au of confused spirit (curtosey of @divinit3a) and it was so good that I decided to make a full fic for it. this post contains the basic info of the fic, some lovely designs brought to life by Pom and will include links to each chapter as it posts ^_^

There's also a little poll at the end to vote on the title if you'd like to participate~

The Plot:

You're a blacksmith/animatronic technican in a small, mountain village, known far and wide across the kingdom for it's holiday decorations and delight. So much so that the royal family themselves visit yearly to partake in the festivities.

However, due to some recent threats and strange has happenings, there's much more security this year, and among that security is two royal guards who seem keenly interested in keeping you from investigating too far into the matter. And you, they're also interested in you.

The Characters:

Y/N - You! With the same personality, motivations, and goals as Y/N from Confused Spirit, and with a similar job as well. You run a shop in town with a small team of smithies, tinkerers, and inventors at your side. (I don't have a design currently but imagine a the most androgynous blacksmith/medival peasent outfit ever <33)

Sun & Moon - The two guards that have been meddling in your affairs. Though, given they've been a surprising help with your siblings, you can't say much. Also with the same personalities, and characteristics as Confused Spirit. However, they're motivations and goals are different and do not reflect their CS counterparts. Meaning, anything discovered about these two does not apply to or justify any actions taken by them in CS. Designs below are by Pom who brought my vision to life <3333

The Shop Crew - the parts & infastructure team from CS! with an adjustment here or there :)

Melissa & Gabriel - Your siblings. Still adorable. And still a menace.

All others - You'll just have to see :) There is some overlap from CS, such as Abby as some already know, among many more

Where to read:

I'll be posting these to tumblr & ao3! Tumblr first/only (until I can think up a title) but then I'll also have it on ao3 for better reading bc these will be long chapters.

Speaking of, there will be seven chapters total, including the one I've already posted!

Timeline:

Honestly want to tell y'all i'll be sharing a chapter every day or so, but after the disaster that was me last week with feeling unwell and getting behind, I'll just say, she'll be posted completely hopefully before my break is over 😅

Title (and tagging):

While I admit it WOULD be funny to just name it Holiday Spirit, I'm gonna let y'all decide for sure. I'll leave the poll up for a week since I'm not in a rush to post to ao3 (and I unfortunately doubt I'll have it done in a week lmao) everything related to it though will be tagged with #HS! au and #Holiday spirit au as the au is called Holiday Spirit, this is just for fun pretty much

Chapter 1:

EDIT: messed up the poll, so sorry >_< if you already voted and it said 1 day pls vote again shkjdf

Tag list for the usuals (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml

[safyresky]

Smile Shots: The Summer Solstice Beach Bash!

[I rewrote the Diteline First Kiss oneshot :3. Enjoy!]

🏹️🩷🩵❄️

“The fair is open!”

The front door slammed open, a hefty breeze blowing down the hall as Dite flew into the kitchen. She landed just behind Jacqueline, the gust of air from her settling wings blowing the sprite’s loose tresses back as she stacked the last dish.

“Nice to see you too, brown eyes.”

“Sorry, I’m just so excited!” With a little squee, Dite hopped in place, pulling Jacqueline into a bone-crushing hug and kissing the top of her head lightly. “Hi blue eyes.”

“Hi!”

The pair smiled at one another, Jacqueline starting and flushing as she realized just how long she’d been staring. She looked away. Dite giggled softly, placing the sprite down.

“I just really love the Summer Fair. And fairs in general! I know they don’t look all too great, but the romantic possibilities are ENDLESS!” Dite was hovering now, her hands clasped together, both feet popping into the air.

She was so excited, Jacqueline could feel her heart (and roots) melting at the sight of it all.

“I know, babe! I know. Do you want to go—”

“YES! DEFINITELY! ABSOLUTELY! That’s why I’m here! Flew right over from home to ask you out to the fair!”

“You flew? Right here? Direct? From home?”

“Yep!”

“From ROME?!”

“Uh-huh! Love knows no bounds, Jacqueline. Besides! We haven’t gone out on a date in like, forever!”

Jacqueline laughed. “Then what the frost was last night’s movie marathon?”

“A date! But not a date out. Besides! Last night was soo long ago!” she dropped her feet, drooping a bit, wings fanning Jacqueline as they kept Dite afloat. She pouted ever so slightly, throwing the back of her hand over her forehead.

“You are so cute it’s not even funny.”

“I learnt from the best!”

Jacqueline flushed darker.

Dite laughed. “I’m not hearing a no.”

“Oh! Of course not! I’d go anywhere with you!”

“Anywhere?”

“Anywhere!”

“The mall.”

“Yep!”

“Hmm. Hell?”

“We’ve visited your mom there countless times!”

“The ends of the Earth?!”

“Would be a delight with you.”

Dite tapped her chin thoughtfully. Her eyes lit up.

“Oh! I got it! Garbage dump.”

Jacqueline's sharp inhale was more than enough for Dite to grin in triumph.

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Jacqueline looked genuinely torn. Grimacing after what looked like a very hard battle of thoughts with herself, she sighed. “For you, yes. But I’d bring nose plugs. And a mask. And maybe like, douse myself in air freshener or something. I know tomato juice works with skunks, but is it the same for garbage stench? Because if it is, we’d have to stock up on that before going anywhere near a literal, actual, garbage dump.”

Dite giggled, hand in front of her mouth. “Well! We’ll stick to the fair today. Sound good?”

“Better than a dump, that’s for sure. Will you win me a prize?”

“I’ll win you ALL the prizes. Or one really big giant huge one! Even if I have to stab a guy to do so. And I will stab if necessary. And slash, and poke, and prod, and hack—”

Her fingers hovered over her charm bracelet as she listed every possible bodily injury she could inflict quickly and easily, poking the corresponding charm as she went.

Jacqueline smiled, turning back to the hall and heading upstairs. I am so in love, yes, yes, yes, she thought, grabbing the baluster and swinging around it, launching herself up the stairs as Dite flew alongside her.

“—and bludgeon, if necessary.”

“I don’t think it’ll come to...any of that, but I’ll keep it in mind. When did you want to go?”

“Oh! Like right now,” Dite landed on the landing, her wings folding back into their heart-shaped resting point. “I’m already dressed to go and everything!”

Stopping at the base of the twirly stairs up to her room, Jacqueline happily took a minute to check Dite out. The goddess spread her arms, gesturing to her outfit. She wore a pink shirt that resembled her usual stola, and a pair of dark denim shorts. She was wearing one of those visor hats, a ribbon keeping it taught against her head, tucked neatly under her ponytail, complete with the heart shaped sunglasses Jacqueline had gotten her. (The moment she’d seen them, she’d thought Dite would love these. She needs them. I need to get them for her. And she had done just that! And, sure enough, Dite loved them. That thought alone gave the sprite a bit of a prideful blush).

“And you look hella good.”

Now it was Dite’s turn to colour. She grinned, hands immediately moving to her cheeks as she flushed hard.

“I—you. Oh, you stop that! I’m all flustered now!”

“You fluster me all the time!” With a satisfied grin, Jacqueline grabbed the railing, heading upstairs. “At least let me return the favour once and a while.”

Giggling, Dite shot up, wings pushing her off the ground and twirling around her as she torpedoed directly up to the third floor. She landed beside Jacqueline right as the sprite hit the landing, wings furling out, hands on her hips. Jacqueline headed to the rooms on the left, Dite following close to keep up with her GRILFRIEND! Which was such a nice thing to finally be able to say and made her grin AGAIN and flush even DARKER in excitement.

Distracted by thoughts of love (a frequent happenstance in Dite’s day to day operations), by the time she floated into Jacqueline’s room (plopping herself gracefully on the bed, legs folded, wings happy to idle once more), Jacqueline was deep in the closet, chucking rejected outfits over her shoulder and out the door, clothes pooling on the floor in front of it.

“No, not this…too professional…not breathable. Ugh, need to refreeze that one…DITE.”

“No need to shout! I’m right here.”

Jacqueline poked her head out of the closet, blinking. “Oh! You’re closer than I thought. Great! I don’t know what to wear.” She moaned, quite over-the-top, as she dragged her fingers down her face.

Dite giggled. “How about a sundress? Ou! The blue one!”

Jacqueline straightened, looking at Dite with a sly smile. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“Hehe. It’s got a square, lowish neckline! White bodice, with a blue striped skirt that does that poof thing you like. It’s very fifties, very pin-up.”

“Oh!” she disappeared into the closet, coming back out with the exact dress Dite had described. “This one?”

“Yep! That’s the one! And don’t forget a hat! We’re in the south, it’s the start of the summer, and you know how your aunt is. Plus, your healthy layer of ice won’t be around while I’m around and you get so cranky when the top of your head is too hot.”

Jacqueline pouted, grabbing a light blue and white sunhat out of her closet regardless. “I’m not that bad.”

“Yes you are. You don’t like the heat at all! It’s a good thing you don’t burn easily, that’d be unbearable~!” Feigning a swoon, Dite fell back on the bed, placing a hand on her forehead.

Grinning, Jacqueline ran for the bed and jumped, finding herself right in Dite’s arms as the goddess grabbed her midair and flipped them, Jacqueline landing face up on the bed.

“Awh, boo. I thought I had you that time!”

“Unfortunately for you, my reflexes are TOO FAST and my dramatics are not as distracting as yours! I have high perception.”

Jacqueline grinned, the big ear-to-ear grin that Dite was so very fond of. “Well. I am very trapped and ready to go. Shall we? I want a big plushy. I’m talking. HUGE.” She wiggled her arms out from under Dite, raising them up and spreading them very far apart. “GIGANTIC HUMONGOUS.”

Dite laughed, ducking out of the way of Jacqueline’s flailing arms. “I will get you your plushy! Don’t you worry your little head off, blue eyes.” The goddess booped Jacqueline’s nose, pleased as the flush returned. Hehe! We’re even, she thought, sliding off the bed and tucking one hand under Jacqueline's back, the other one weaving behind her knees.

“Are we flying? Or shall I poof us both—oh! Whoa! Okay! That answers that question!”

Jacqueline flailed, grabbing her hat as Dite scooped her into her arms bridal style. She wove through the bedroom, hopped over the couch in the sitting room, and with a running start she flew out the balcony doors (Jacqueline quickly magic-ing them open), heading right for the Southern Province.

🏹️🩷🩵❄️

The fair itself was usually open year-round. As Spring gave way to Summer, it would shut down, reopening on the Summer Solstice to kick off Summer’s Summer Solstice Beach Bash.

At least, that was the tradition.

The truth of the matter was this: Summer was the least traditional of the seasons and used the solstice as more of a deadline, so to speak. If the weather was nicer prior to the solstice and the refresh work was done before then and if she was “feelin’ it” (direct quote), Summer would usually open the fairground early.

That’s (part of) what made the Summer Fair so special!

The coasters and rides were spruced up, new ones taking up residence where old ones used to reside. (Brought down after they’d run their course, but never gone for long! They’d come back in a year or two or five newly improved!)

Magibeans came from all over the country (and yes, the world too), to fill the Food Pavilion with dishes old and new, bringing local specialties from near and afar for the people of Crystal Springs to try en masse: entrées and desserts, snacks and other goodies—and lots of fried things. There was no shortage of deep fried anything thanks to Dinah’s Deep-Fried Delights. (Sponsors of that particular portion of the event, Dinah’s slogan had always been we’ll deep fry anything! And that’s exactly what they did and why they’d been in business for many, many centuries).

The games were reset and refreshed, pavilions renovated and reopened, booths moved and shifted, attractions added and taken out, and once all the work was complete—on top of essential maintenance, of course—the fair would reopen with a BANG (quite literally. The south had a penchant for pyrotechnics, after all) and the Summer Solstice Beach Bash would begin in earnest, leading up to the Solstice itself, the day celebrated with a beachside party that spanned the entire coast of the province.

Dite landed right in front of the tall, waving palm trees that bordered the entrance to the fairgrounds. Boardwalk stretched ahead of them, paths twisting up and down the foothills and off to the beach, leading to rides and games and all sorts of fairground delights. She placed Jacqueline down gently, the people flocking in greeting the Legates politely while giving Dite's wings a wide berth.

Dite wished them well in love and life, the magibeans delighted to get the blessing of Cupid’s Legate. It had been an interesting thing she’d discovered when her Legate-y career had begun, and she’d nearly poked an eye or two out running into magibeans on the job who were literally seeking her out FOR a blessing! She’d quickly adjusted, wishing them well before they could interrupt her work, which had curbed the casualties quite a bit.

She laughed behind her hand as Jacqueline straightened her dress, placing her hat on her head as kids hopped around her, practically demanding snow. Pulling her shades down her nose and staring down at the kids in amused unamusement, she rested her hands on her hips.

“Do you know how much trouble I’d be in if I made it snow right here, right now?”

The kids laughed harder, shaking their heads and stomping their feet in excitement.

“Unbelievable!” And, pushing her shades back up her nose with a finger, she flicked her hand, fluffy clouds brewing above the kids. Snow began to fall right on top of them.

They squealed in excitement, jumping around and hopping about as snowflakes landed on their hats.

“I’m so sorry, Legate Frost, they—”

Jacqueline laughed. “Don’t even worry about it!” Waving her hand, a blanket of snow formed in thin air and fell around (and on top of!) them, the kids wasting no time in making snowballs and throwing them at one another. She winked. “I get that a lot.”

Laughing as Dite grabbed the sprite’s hand and whisked her towards the entrance, the guardian thanked her, waving them off. Dangling behind Dite, Jacqueline returned the gesture in kind as more kids threw themselves into the snow pile, much to the goddess’s delight.

“I love watching you work.”

“And I think it’s very sweet that you give every single one of them your blessing.”

“Awh, well, you know me! I love love.”

Jacqueline smiled. “Yeah you do. Sorry, I forgot to ask—all good to go? Wings okay?”

Frowning for a moment, Dite stopped (Jacqueline taking the opportunity to straighten herself out), stretched her wings, and shook them out before letting them rest behind her.

“Mm yep! I think so. They’re behaving!”

“For now.”

Dite giggled. “Let’s hope they keep it up! I have a huge list of rides to go on, so they better be behaving.”

“Ugh. Rides.”

“I have some Jacqueline friendly ones, too! I’m accommodating.”

Settling into step beside her, Jacqueline squeezed the goddess’s hand. “You are the sweetest person, did you know that?”

“I did. Someone tells me all the time!”

Jacqueline cackled, picking up her pace and running into the fair, hand-in-hand with Dite.

🏹️🩷🩵❄️

Dite went on every single fast paced, scary looking, incredibly tall ride at least twice.

Jacqueline had tried to join her on some of the rides. She really, really did.

But after the fourth very fast (albeit tame) coaster, her stomach had reminded her unpleasantly about her accursed motion sickness, and fighting back a wave of nausea she’d stumbled down the boardwalk to the beach, Dite half-carrying her to the ocean, the cold water doing wonders for the sprite.

Grounded, Jacqueline watched dutifully from the sidelines, snapping photos between licks of cold confectionery, waving every time Dite whooshed by, her hands in the air.

When her stomach had finally recovered (several ice cream cones and popsicles later, somehow), Dite dragged her to the tame, cutesy rides, the pair of them taking silly photos on the carousel, absolutely whaling on one another in the bumper cars, and spinning so many different carts on the various scramblers Jacqueline nearly got sick all over again.

After dizzily stumbling across the park, they got the new high score in the interactive shooting-the-enemies rides, survived the haunted house ride, and had gone on so many log rides that Jacqueline was starting to crystallize a bit.

“Want to hang out on the beach and dry a little bit? Or melt, in this case.”

“Nah. This is a vibe. I’m kind of digging it, you know? Now I’m sparkling.”

Dite laughed, about to say something when her breath caught in her throat.

“Oh!”

“What? What’s wrong?”

She was squeaking. Making absolutely unintelligible noises Jacqueline thought could only be expressed with very specific emote icons that had yet to be invented.

“Looklooklook! Eee! It’s a TUNNEL of LOVE!”

Sure enough, right in front of them was a giant, pinkish-reddish-purplish dark ride. It was adorned with hearts and little cherubs, the carts two seaters and heart shaped, floating through the water in the ride.

“Those things are REAL?!”

Dite laughed, pulling her girlfriend towards the ride. “Of course! And a magnet for romance. And…other things. Which is a weird choice! Definitely a yum for some that is an ick for me. It’s not very private or nice, y’know? Plus, Eros only knows how unsanitary they are given what has been known to go on in them.”

“So we’re skipping it, then?”

“WHAT?! Of COURSE not! It’s an amusement park staple, Jacqueline!” Dite laughed to herself, clambering into the boat. “Did you know, seventy-two percent of first kisses happen on these things?”

“Really? Oh, thank you.”

Dite smiled, hoisting Jacqueline into their little boat. “No problem. And I don’t understand why. Like, I get the theming behind it? But it just doesn’t seem romantic, you know?”

“That’s more your area of expertise, hun—whoa! Thanks babe.”

“No problem!” Dite held onto the sprite’s arm until she was properly seated. “You looked like you were about to fall again.”

“Yeah. That last spiny boy really did a number on me.”

“That’s all right, sweets! I’ve got you.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Giggling softly and kissing her cheek, Dite settled in (giving her wings a moment to get comfortable as well) and pulled the bar down, the little boat launching and setting off into the tunnel.

“I mean, this tunnel of love is very nice,” Dite continued, lifting an arm as Jacqueline curled up alongside her. Snuggling up into her side, Jacqueline was more than happy to feel Dite push her closer as they drifted along the track. “The water is fresh! No weird animatronics, and my dad wouldn’t hate the littler cherubic portrayals outside. All good things! The plants are real, too, and from all over the world, it looks like!”

“Aunt Summer loves fresh flora and fauna from all over the place! I think that’s how Spring doesn’t get on her nerves. They bond about it.”

“Awh, that’s cute! It pays off, because like, this would be an ideal place for a kiss, y’know?”

“Oh?” Jacqueline glanced over, glad Dite couldn’t see the very red flush creeping onto her face (and hoping she didn’t notice the squeaky octave she was at).

“Yeah! But not like, ideal ideal. This is number three on my list of places to kiss at a fair, specifically.”

“Only three?”

“Yep!”

“What’s number one?” Jacqueline found herself asking, curious for completely unrelated reasons, no, seriously, don’t look at her like that! “Actually, hold on. Places to kiss at a fair? Not in general?”

“Yeah! I have lots of first kiss lists! Kissing lists in general! Based on location, time of year, season, even—"

“What managed to push a tunnel of love ride down to number three? I’d have thought it’d be like, number one on the fairground list what with the theming.”

“And you thought wrong!” Dite was chipper as they turned a corner into complete darkness, their clothes suddenly fluorescent as the ride went glow-in-the-dark. “Here’s the thing.”

Jacqueline was mildly intrigued. Her stomach fluttered. At least, she thought it was her stomach. She was, after all, queasy. But then she thought of kissing. And of Dite. And, well, maybe it wasn’t just the multiple spinning rides in a row. The Tunnel of Love being a number three began to make more sense as they drifted through it, gimmicks and all, and Jacqueline found herself unable to NOT think about what the number one spot would be. Unfortunately for her, before she even got to learn number one, Dite had a LOT to say about number two.

“—and that’s why upside down on any pendulum ride is number two on the list,” Dite wrapped up as their boat made it back to the loading dock.

“That beat out a tunnel of love? I’m…honestly surprised, but then again, it’s very you, isn’t it?”

Dite laughed as the bar popped up, stepping out and offering Jacqueline a hand. “Exactly! Don’t tell me Tunnel of Love is higher on your list.”

Jacqueline smiled, watching her step carefully as she braced herself on the sides of the cart, happy to grab Dite’s hand and be on steady ground again. “I never really thought about it, to be honest.”

“WHAT?!”

“What?! I mean, romance isn’t really my forte, nor is it in my job description.”

“I beg to differ! I think you are very romantic." Fluttering, Dite placed one long, soft finger on the tip of Jacqueline's nose. “Boop!”

Jacqueline smiled, tip of her nose tingling with the ghost of her soft touch as Dite drew her finger away and landed, smiling fondly at the sprite. “Well, that’s sweet of you to think.”

“It’s true! You’re very good at romantic food dates, you know.”

“Probably because I like food very much. Speaking of which! I’m starved.”

“After all that ice cream?”

“Of course! It melts, Dite! It doesn’t give me nutrients at all.”

Dite laughed. “I don't think that's how that works.”

“Whatever the case! Let's go get some food!”

🏹️🩷🩵❄️

The Food Pavilion was bustling. Magibeans and magihumans from all over were going booth to booth, chatting up a storm and laughing as they sampled food and sipped various drinks, punches, juices, and—when someone burped sparkles to resounding applause—concoctions!

Hand in hand, Dite and Jacqueline laughed, cheering on the glitter burps as they went booth to booth themselves. Unable to make a concrete decision, they picked a little bit of everything, swapping snacks from one another’s plates and clearing them fast as they rounded the corner to the dessert section. Some foods were hits; some were misses. Some very big misses. But both women enjoyed themselves, happy to while away the daylight hours in each other’s company.

Dusk was finally beginning to fall, the fair slowly lighting up as they left the Food Festival and entered the game alley.

“...so elephant ears is like, a completely new turn of phrase for me. But like,” Jacqueline paused, lifting a heavily cinnamon-sugared piece of flat, fried dough off her plate. “I can see it.” Shrugging, she took a huge bite out of it, sugar crystals flying, and placed it back down on the plate. “I call them beaver tails. That’s what they’re usually called in Canada, at least! At Blue Mountain, they have a Beaver Tail shack like, right at the peak of one set of runs. Divine. There is nothing like having a beaver tail in the freezing cold while strapped to a pair of skis! We’ll have to go next winter!”

“Oh, I’d love that! It’s been DECADES since I did a winter sport! This one time, I—” Dite stopped abruptly, tensing suddenly. Jacqueline had reached out and grabbed her arm tightly, her fingers really squeezing. “What? What’s going on, what’s—”

“AH DITE LOOKLOOKLOOK!”

Slowly removing her free hand from her charm bracelet, Dite followed Jacqueline's finger.

“IT’S A GIANT POLAR BEAR! AH!” She squeezed tightly once more, grabbing the goddess's arm with both hands and looking up at her very, very seriously.

“Yes?”

“I need it. Can you win it for me?”

Dite relaxed, resting her hand on top of both of Jacqueline's. “Of course I can! I did promise!" Tapping the side of her cheek, she frowned. "Hopefully it’s a game I’m good at.”

“You? Not good at something? The absurdity of that suggestion!”

Dite laughed. “Oh, stop that, you! It happens.”

“Well, in the unlikely event that it does, we can always steal it.”

“Jacqueline!” Fake indignant, Dite hid her little laugh behind her hand.

“What?! You said we’d stab if we needed to earlier! I’m just making sure that’s still on the table!”

“Let’s see what we’re working with first, okay?”

Jacqueline tilted her head back, a look of distaste plastered onto her face. “Ugh. Fine.”

Giggling, Dite pulled Jacqueline gently alongside her until they hit a wall of people. Somewhere beyond the crowd, a bell was ringing. The crowd roared; then a dull smack resounded. A slide-whistle sound followed, and the crowd would tense, and tense, until suddenly they’d all drop the tension and groan, as though someone had come close to a goal and not gotten it.

It sounded familiar, Dite thought, as she pat Jacqueline's arm and let go, standing on tiptoes to see over the crowd. It wasn’t until she began to hover (the breeze from her wings clearing the space around them) that she was able to see what game she’d have to destroy to get her girlfriend the fluffiest, biggest stuffed polar bear she’d ever seen in her life.

She grinned.

“I can’t see anything,” Jacqueline complained. “And there’s BARELY a north wind! What're we working with here?”

Dite landed, still grinning ear-to-ear. “You are so small.”

“I am AWARE, thanks.”

“Small and CUTE.”

“Dite! I’m trying to be indignant! Stop flustering me while I moan and groan about being short to a person who is like, a giant compared to my me, outside of full goddess form.”

“But it’s cute when you do that!”

Jacqueline flushed. “Goddess above. Stop that!”

“Never! Now, want to hear about what we need to do to win that bear?”

“Of COURSE! Who do we have to fight for it?!”

“Summer.”

Jacqueline blanched. “Ah, frostbite. I can’t beat her! She's way stronger than me and freezing her would not work what with the being the literal season and all. I don't stand a chance!”

“But I do! Remember?" Dite flexed. "Super strong girlfriend? Who promised she’d win you a prize?”

“I did request that, didn’t I?”

“Mhmm!”

“And you did promise, didn’t you?”

“Yep!”

“I got a little overexcited. My bad.”

“Well, let’s go get the deets! Maybe you’ll want to give it a shot?”

“Against Aunt Summer?! HA! We’ll see about that.” She stuck out her hand. “Take me away! Let’s go see what exactly it is...”

Grabbing Jacqueline's hand, Dite skirted around the edge of the crowd until they got to the front. Summer stood tall beside a strength testing game, hands on her hips as she watched the next poor unfortunate soul give the game a whirl. They hefted the hammer (staggering back a bit) and swung, hitting the base with a decent thwack!

The crowd gasped. Summer looked impressed. The slide whistle sound started up again, the marker climbing higher, and higher, and higher, until—SPLAT.

“Ou. Just missed it, Maisie! Better luck next time, girl.”

“I am small but MIGHTY!” The brownie flexed; the crowd gave her a round of applause as she scampered off, disappearing into it.

“SO! Who’s NEXT! Who thinks they can outmatch ME!?”

The crowd cheered as a dwarf stepped forward, flexing and smirking, winking as the crowd cheered him on. He stuck out a finger, pointing right at the season.

“My run next, your Sunniness!”

“Hammer’s yours!”

“Oh, please! Ladies first.”

“If you insist!”

The crowd oh’d. Jacqueline snorted. She nudged Dite, only to see the goddess’s attention drawn elsewhere.

“Dite?”

“Found an employee! Come on!”

Whisked away once more, Jacqueline bounced along behind Dite until they came to a stop, below a younger looking fairy. He lay on his belly as he floated in midair, watching the festivities with satisfaction.

“Excuse me!”

His eyes drifted downwards. “Well, look at that! We’ve got ourselves some Legates! Care to play against Summer herself?!”

“If that’s what’s gonna get me that GIANT POLAR BEAR then YES. I need it. It’s very important we get it. What’s the task.”

“Well that’s easy!” The fae sat up, still in midair, speaking in a way that made Jacqueline think this was going to be very not easy. “You’ve just gotta beat Summer herself at the high striker!”

Behind them, the bell dinged. Summer's arms shot up, still holding the hammer, as the crowd went wild. Irritation leaked through the dwarf’s determined facade.

“It’s only one gold for three tries...”

A golden coin glinted in the fairway lights. “Here you go! I’ll give it a go!” Smiling sweetly, Dite tilted her head, ponytail bobbing, looking the picture of innocence.

“That's the spirit!" The fae caught the coin, flipping it in midair. It disappeared before he could call heads or tails, the small bag at his side clinking.

“Hehe. Yay~! Now step aside! I’m about to win me a girlfriend worthy polar bear!”

“Whoa! We got ourselves an eager beaver here!” The fae floated up, hovering above the crowd. “Magibeans and magihumans! We got ourselves a new contender! You ready, your sunniness?”

Summer hefted the hammer. “I was FORMED READY! Who thinks they can take me down NOW?!”

“I do!”

The crowd cleared, Dite fluttering through politely. “Hi Summer!”

Summer briefly blinked in surprise before her face lit up, her ponytail burning brighter as she tossed her head back and laughed. “Well hello Dite! Woo! Looks like we got ourselves a real challenge here, magifolk! Round seven hundred and fifty-two: season versus goddess.”

“And this goddess is in it to win it! My girlfriend needs a big, stuffed, polar bear!”

Behind Dite, the crowd hopped back, rubbing their arms, teeth chattering.

“Outta my WAY please and THANK YOU—Hi Aunt Summer!”

“Hi Jacqueline!” Shifting her weight and dropping the hammer to the ground, Summer leaned on the handle, free hand on her hip. “Dite. I hope you know that just because you’re doing this for my niece, it does NOT mean I’ll go easy on you."

“Oh, Summer, I wouldn’t dream of it! After all, I won’t be going easy on you.”

The crowd oh’d. Summer looked delighted. “Haha! The Goddess of Pleasure, everyone! So, who’s first, hun?”

“Oh, you’ve got the hammer! You can go first. Unless we can bring our own? Because I do have one on hand!”

“Ha! No need for that! Let’s do this. Best two out of three.”

“Got it!”

Nodding, Summer straightened, gripping the hammer once again. She swung, hitting the base with a hefty thunk, the bell sounding off a hearty ding seconds later. The striker lit up; lights flashed and the crowd cheered as the bells at the top sounded off, lights rushing about in a myriad of colours as the striker sunk back down to the base.

“Oh, stop it y’all. You’ve seen me do this exact thing over seven hundred times!”

The crowd cheered harder. Some magifolk started stomping their feet. Summer laughed, giving a little bow.

“HA! Alright, alright! Give it a rest, guys. Dite?” Hefting the hammer over her shoulders and giving it a little spin, she grabbed the head in one hand, offering the goddess the shaft. “Hammer’s yours.”

“Don’t mind if I do.”

She grabbed the handle, twirling it just as exuberantly as Summer had. Grinning ear to ear, she let it rest across her shoulders, holding it one handed as she sized up the striker.

“She gets three tries, by the way!”

“Ou, spicy. You can take ‘em all in one go, hun.”

“Thank you, your Sunniness! But…I think I’ll only be needing the one,” Dite winked.

“Really now?”

“Mhmm!”

She pulled the hammer off her shoulders, both hands on the base as she pulled back and swung with a battle cry that had made amazonian warriors proud.

The puck went flying. It shot up to the bell in seconds, and kept going, the bell knocking into the crowd as the puck soared high into the air above them.

“Op! My bad! Just a sec.”

Flashing Summer a smile, Dite torpedoed up (hammer still in hand) and raced to grab the puck, shooting back down in seconds.

“I got it!”

There was a beat of silence before the crowd collectively lost their shit.

Summer screamed in excitement. “You did that! Holy sunbeams!” tossing the hammer to the side, Summer grabbed Dite’s hand and held it up. “LADIES AND GENTS! GIVE IT UP FOR THE GODDESS OF PLEASURE, LEGATE CUPID, MY NIECE IN LAW—DITE!”

“FROST YEAH! GIVE ME THAT FROSTING POLAR BEAR!”

Stunned in shock, the fairy that had explained the game to them grabbed the giant polar bear, passing it down to Jacqueline’s chilly little grabby hands.

“HAH! THANK YOU! DITE! DITE, LOOK!”

The crowd was still screaming. Phones and portable crystal balls were out, people freaking out and filming the remnants of the game, sneaking selfies with the season and the goddess. Smirking and flipping the bird as she ran past some of the secret selfie takers, Jacqueline came to a slippery halt beside Dite, polar bear briefly ruffling one of her wings as she spoke very quickly to Aunt Summer.

“—I’m so sorry about the damage, I didn’t mean to break it at all! I hadn't intended to, it was just trash talk, honest! I can pay for that, or miracle it right back to the way it should be, or—”

“It’s okay! Dite! Calm down, girl.” Summer grabbed her other hand, bringing both arms down and folding their hands together. “I have been stuck at this sunburnt game for hours. I’m starved. I’ve been DYING to hit up the food court but people just kept on challenging me! Thank YOU for obliterating the thing so I can go have some food! We can fix this in no time at all.”

“Are you sure? I can just—”

“Positive! Go enjoy your evening with my niece. And your giant polar bear.”

“Hehe.” Jacqueline squished it, peeking around it. “I’m gonna call it Ice Bear.”

“Awh, like in We Bare Bears?”

“Yeah! He’s my fave. Maybe I’ll get this guy a little axe! Did you see that, Aunt Summer? She BROKE the GAME!”

“I KNOW!”

“SHE’S THE BEST!”

“Damn straight! You take good care of her, Jacqueline. She’s a keeper,” Aunt Summer winked.

“Not if I take care of her first!” Grinning, Dite scooped Jacqueline up, polar bear and all, and fled the scene of the crime.

“Dite that was AWESOME!” perfectly content being carried around bridal style with a giant polar bear stuffy, Jacqueline grinned up at her partner, kissing her cheek. “Thank you.”

“Awh, you’re welcome, sweets!” she kissed the top of her head—hard to do when wearing a sunhat and carrying a polar bear, they both learnt. Giggling, Dite placed her down, bringing her in close and whisking off her hat to plant the kiss proper.

“Mwah.”

Jacqueline could feel the snow evaporating right off her head. “Careful! I put my sunnies on the hat.”

“I know! I have them right here.” With a flourish, she put the hat back on Jacqueline’s head, glasses in hand. “I know where these should go. Boop! Now he looks like you.”

Flipping the giant polar bear around, Jacqueline snorted. Ice Bear was wearing her sunglasses. Maybe even better than her.

“Hehe, I love when you snort. It's cute! Cutie. I am so in love with you!”

“Well that makes two of us. I mean like, I love you too. Not my me. I DO LOVE MY ME, But I meant, like—”

A soft breath on her cheek; even softer lips pressing into it. The smell of strawberries. A warm tingle as the heat from the kiss lingered well after Dite had let go.

“I know, Jacqueline.”

“Okay. Cool. Good. Great.” Holy Hedone, her cheek was hot. “WHAT are we breaking next?!”

“Nothing! It was an accident!”

“A HAPPY accident! It was FUN! We should do another one. On purpose. Is Aunt Summer perhaps trapped again?”

Dite laughed. “How about instead of destroying a game, we find one that involves breaking things instead?”

“FROST yeah! I love breaking things. I think it's about my turn to win you a prize. Chose! What do you want?”

“Let’s see what they’ve got!”

And so the pair made their way from game to game, the fair lighting up as dusk turned into twilight. The game hosts shouted into the crowd, voices overlapping amongst the laughter and cheering surrounding them as the pile of stuffies in Dite’s arms grew bigger, and bigger, and bigger, a silly looking duck plushie landing on the top of the pile, just about obscuring Dite’s face.

“I, uh...I think that’s more than enough stuffies, Jacquie.”

“Hmm? Oh! Haha, whoops. I can hold that one.”

She took the duck back, somehow managing to wedge it between herself and Ice Bear.

“Thanks babes. I really appreciate all the little victories you’ve swung tonight, but um…I think I’m GOOD on stuffies.”

“Listen. Listen. I hear you. But consider this. My dad gave me a thing for this exact kind of scenario ages ago…” patting her skirt pocket as Ice Bear teetered precariously in a one-handed grip, the strange duck squashed to oblivion, Jacqueline pulled out a small, itty-bitty bag. “Ta-da! It’s like my mom’s basket! Lemme just…”

Biting down on one of the drawstrings, Jacqueline used her free hand to open the pouch up. Victorious, she looped the string around her finger, holding it open in front of Dite. “Just bring the pile near the bag and watch!”

Dite did just that and slowly, the stuffies floated out of her arms and swirled into the bag, disappearing into the glowing recesses of it. Finally, the very last one floated into the bag, Dite saving the duck from its squished hellscape and popping it in behind a pink toad looking…thing.

“There we go!” Jacqueline pulled the drawstrings taught, sliding the bag back in her pocket. “Now we can get even MORE stuffies!”

“Jacqueline!” Dite laughed. “I have so many! I can carpet my room at home with them! How about instead,” she grabbed Jacqueline’s hands, pulling her in close and squeezing them between hers, “we go find a place for dinner? My treat!”

“What? No fair! It’s always your treat, when is it my turn?!”

“You can cover the next one!”

“That’s what you said last time!”

“Tell you what. I’ll cover you…and you can cover Ice Bear, since he’ll need a seat all to himself.”

Jacqueline giggled. “Promise you let me cover the next one.”

“Sure! Of course! But ONLY IF we go to one of the beachside grills! I think I’ve had enough carnival food for today.”

Jacqueline smiled. She let out another little giggle. “Hehe. Okay.”

“C’mon, let’s head out! We can cut through the attractions section. I bet it looks as pretty as you do, all lit up tonight.”

Dite grabbed Jacqueline’s hand, tugging her forward and watching surreptitiously as the flush crept into her cheeks. She grinned successfully when Jacqueline made one of those strange little spluttery noises again, unable to form a coherent thought for the briefest of moments.

“Dite! You—ah! Stop it. Am I really glowing?”

“Oh! I must be losing my touch! That was a quick recovery.”

“Dite! Hehe.”

“But yes, you are glowing! You’re still all crystally from the log rides. I knew we should’ve gone to the beach and dried up a bit.”

Jacqueline pulled her closer. Nudging Dite’s arm, she stood up on tiptoe, Dite tilting her head as she realized Jacqueline was going in for a whisper.

“I did it on purpose. Remember?”

Dite smiled, eyes crinkling shut as she laughed. “You’re so silly.”

Jacqueline laughed too, dropping back to the flats of her feet. “Could you imagine if I wasn’t?”

“I don’t even want to!”

“Exactly! Oh, Dite look! You’re so right. Look how everything is lit up and glowing!”

They stopped at the top of the amusement rides section, staring down the corridor. The cutesy rides were lit up, sparkling into the night. String lights hung across the walkway, kids on the shoulders of adults hanging little summer themed ornaments between each bulb. Roller coasters raced past high above them, the lit-up carts a streak of light in the night. And at the very top of it all stood the giant Ferris wheel, lit up for the night and slowly bringing people up to look out over the sea.

“Oh, I didn’t even think to bring an ornament—”

“I did!”

With a grin, Dite whipped up a glowing pink hand. Ribbon around her finger, the ornament swayed briefly—two little hearts, stacked on top of one another.

“You think of EVERYTHING, don’t you?”

Dite winked. “You don’t even know."

Laughing, Jacqueline grabbed the ornament, looking up at Dite suspiciously.

She blinked, eyes wide. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Jacqueline spoke softly, a sly smile on her face. “C’mon. Let’s give this baby some colour.”

They made their way down the lane until they reached a booth surrounded by people with a bunch of colouring implements. As soon as a space cleared, the pair squeezed in (Ice Bear and all), and moments later the wooden hearts had colour. A light pink heart stacked on top of a light blue heart, doused in purple glitter.

“I love the glitter!”

“I’m not even done yet!” Reaching up, Jacqueline poked the hearts with a glowing finger. Frost swirled to life, cracking as it coated the ornament, the usual swirls looking just a little heart like.

“Okay. Now I’m done! We can hang it up.”

“And I see a perfect hook right by one of the lights! Up we go!”

Dite’s wings unfurled. She scooped up Jacqueline in one hand, soaring almost to the end of the lane way and hovering right below one of the golden hooks beside the sparkling lights.

“Together?”

Jacqueline tucked her finger into the ribbon alongside Dite’s.

“Together.”

With matching soft smiles, the pair of them reached up together, hooking their ornament on the string. It twirled, the lights on either side twinkling, the frost coating it shimmering in the light.

“Oh. It's beautiful. You do such lovely work.”

“Oh, it’s just. It’s a lil’ touch of frost it’s, it’s nothing really, I—”

“Shh.” Dite giggled as Jacqueline flushed, looking cross eyed at the finger the goddess had put on her lips. “It’s not nothing. Not to me it’s not.”

“You’re so—ahhh! Stop it, you!”

“NEVER. Wanna go on the Ferris wheel?”

“Hmm?” Jacqueline blinked, colouring deeper. She looked behind them (at the wheel) and the back in front of her (at a literal goddess of a woman who had just flustered the sleet out of her and did this on a regular basis) and then seemed to sort of come to.

“Oh. OH! Ferris wheel! Yes! I do! Absolutely. I would be down for that. I’d love it.”

“Even with all the spinning?”

Jacqueline looked over at the slowly spinning wheel (stopping occasionally to let people on and off) and laughed. “I’m sure my delicate stomach can survive that level of intensity.”

“Yay! Let’s GO!”

Dite flew forward, Jacqueline throwing her arms around her shoulders, holding on to the goddess tightly. Giggling, Dite brought them both down at the back of the line, letting Jacqueline slide out of her arms.

“Down you go!”

“Thank you.”

“Is Ice Bear coming with us?”

“Hmm.” Squinting at the bear briefly, Jacqueline nodded, grabbing the bag from her pocket and whooshing the giant polar bear inside with the others. Pulling the drawstrings taught, she whisked it into her pocket just in time for them to board a cart of their own.

They sat down, the attendant holding the cart steady as they settled in, pushing the bar and locking it in place. Slowly, the wheel started back up again.

“Whew. I’m bushed. What a day.”

Dite cracked her back, her wings stretching and laying down behind them both. “I know! So much fun!”

“I know! And now we get to sit back and enjoy the view.” Leaning over the protective bar, Jacqueline smiled out at the arctic sea. In the distance, icebergs floated by quietly, the water and sky stretching on and on until they blended together, the stars sparkling in the water as they were in the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Dite watched Jacqueline, sighing contently. “Yeah. It really is.”

“You know what would really hit?”

“If it was a fireworks night?”

“Yeah! And I actually think it is! Look at the beach.”

Their cart crested the top, dropping back down and coming to a stop as people loaded and unloaded. People were settling down on the beach, looking up at the sky expectantly. The wheel started up again, seats swaying as the rotation continued.

“Oh, that’s PERFECT!” Dite’s eyes shone as she clasped her hands together excitedly, wings giving a little flutter behind her. “Shame we won’t get to see the fireworks show from the very tippy top! Wouldn’t that be just lovely?”

Jacqueline straightened up. She looked over the bar. Then over the sides of the cart. Then down at the control panel. Then back down the sides of the cart.

“It would be, wouldn’t it?”

With a cute devilish smirk, Jacqueline leaned back as the cart dropped from the top once more, surreptitiously placing a glowing hand just outside it. Dite could hear cracking right under them and across, stretching all the way down the closest support pole, until suddenly, there was a fizz and a POP!

The cart crested, reaching the top of the Ferris Wheel as the entire operation came to a swaying halt.

“Oh dear. Oh my. It looks like we’re stuck!”

“Oh no!” Dite threw her hand on her forehead, looking off in the distance with a sly smile. “What a shame.”

SKREEE! BOOM! FLASH! BANG. POPPOPPOPPOP!

“And look at that! The fireworks are starting!”

“How serendipitous!”

“Someone out there must really love you, Dite.”

“I’m inclined to agree, except I don't think they are out there. I think they are directly beside me.”

Jacqueline giggled, smiling up at the goddess. The fireworks flashed, the colours lighting her face up—oranges and yellows and purples and blues and pinks and reds—Dite’s heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest. The moment she'd been waiting for had arrived; she reached out, grabbing Jacqueline’s face between both her hands.

The sprite blinked. Successfully thrown off, she looked at Dite curiously, the soft pads of her pink, manicured fingers rubbing her cheeks softly. Her own heart began to flutter as she gazed into Dite’s warm brown eyes, fireworks cracking behind her (as they always should be, Jacqueline thought, stomach fluttering about now too), and the most brilliant smile spread across her face.

“This.”

“What?”

“This is number one.”

And before Jacqueline could blink, Dite’s lips pressed against hers, and Jacqueline was gone.

Her lips were soft, brushing against Jacqueline’s delicately, but lightly. She felt herself grow limp as Dite’s hands caressed her face, warm, and soft, the briefest hint of icing sugar still on her lips. Her heart soared, and Jacqueline smiled into the kiss as she threw her arms over Dite’s shoulders and kissed back, crushing Dite’s lips as the fireworks exploded above them, faster and louder. The brims of their hats pushed up as Jacqueline pressed up against her almost greedily, only pulling away when she needed to catch her breath.

She felt warm all over. If there was any snow left in her hair, it was long gone now. Jacqueline was surprised the wheel was still frozen in place; below her, through the rush of the blood pumping through her veins and the quick breathing of the both of them and the ringing in her ears and the butterflies in her stomach, she could hear someone calling for a melting. All she could think was, there’s no need! I have been successfully melted!

She snorted. Her smile grew larger and she found herself giggling, then laughing as she pulled Dite closer, hugging her tightly.

Just as warm and flushed, Dite squished her back, laughing as well. Joy bubbled up; she was grinning like a madwoman, her wings standing on end.

“Oh! Oh, wow! That was…you’ve been planning this all day, haven’t you.”

“From the MOMENT I left home, yes! Ah! I’m so excited I pulled it off! Yay~!”

Jacqueline smiled, tilting her head. “I knew it.”

“You are a big, slushy liar! You had no idea!”

“No! I had some idea! Like. Before we hung the thing. I was getting suspicious.”

Dite laughed, gazing into Jacqueline’s eyes and tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Mm. I don’t believe that for a second.”

“I love you. I love you a lot. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do! And I love you too. You know that, right?”

Jacqueline giggled. “I do, yes. Very much so. Is this a thing we’re doing now?”

“What?”

“Kissing?”

“Yes! If you’d like, of course.”

“Oh you KNOW I’d like. It’s okay with you? You like?”

“I! Love kisses!”

“My turn, then!”

And this time, Jacqueline pulled Dite in confidently, locking lips once more. Harder, but tender still. More ferocity this time, but slow as their lips explored one another, lingering, tasting, hands roving as the fireworks swelled and their cheeks burnt, smiles slipping through and shaping their kiss. Dite’s hands tangled in Jacqueline’s hair as they broke apart, Jacqueline gasping for breath once more, flushed, lips parted and looking plump.

“Being kissed suits you.”

“Dite! If you make me blush any more I am going to straight up turn into a summer sprite. You make me feel…impossible things.” Jacqueline smiled softly, grabbing Dite’s hands tightly and looking at her with a soft, flushed, smile. “And I love it. I love you.”

“Awh. I love you, too! Even if you did suddenly turn into a summer sprite. Mwah!”

It was a quick brush, right on the very top of her head, and Jacqueline’s heart still fluttered, her stomach still tingled, and she had no idea what to do except for squish Dite’s hands even tighter.

“So this is number one?”

“Duh! Ferris wheel? Fireworks? Can’t go wrong there.”

Jacqueline laughed. “You are the expert.”

“I know!”

They came together naturally, snuggling up in the cart as the grand finale lit up the skies around them, finishing with a dazzling array of summer-shaped explosions. A cheer started by the beach, working its way up into the fairgrounds and right to the Ferris wheel. Below them, people began moving, making their way into the lines and off to the various amenities, magibeans with young children heading to the exit. Out on the beach, lights began to appear as music started up, dancing beginning in earnest, the Ferris wheel staying perfectly in place.

“Hmm. I think maybe I did not think this through.”

“Oh?”

Jacqueline nodded. “We are still very much stuck.”

Dite glanced down at the controls. The tech looked bewildered as an elf with a toolbox got to work, a fire sprite shaking out their hands and lighting them up, beginning the weighty task of thawing the sudden ice.

“Huh. So it seems.”

“We may be up here for a while.”

“Hmm…” Dite tapped her chin for a moment, looking down at Jacqueline with a sly smile. She snaked her hand around the sprite, resting it on her lower back and pulling her in closer.

“I think I’m fine with that.”

Jacqueline laughed, the flush on her cheeks deepening once more as they leaned into one another yet again, eyes locked on each other's lips.

“I think I’m fine with that, too.”

[creationstationdiscord]

Sign-ups are officially open for the CS Holiday Gift Exchange!

Head on over to the announcements channel if you're interested in participating :)

[crossstitchpatterns]

[kmomof4]

Awkward dinner indeed…

This was utterly BRILLIANT!!!

CS One Shot: something to be thankful for

Summary: “It’s a good thing we don’t have Thanksgiving in our land because that dinner would suck.”

A/N: The first box crossed off my winter bingo card is my take on that Thanksgiving dinner Charming mentioned in canon. An awkward holiday dinner indeed.

Set after the events of Neverland, but without the body switching, Pan's curse plotline. Pan was defeated, everyone got home safe, and now they have to navigate a new normal - which to Mary Margaret means hosting a holiday dinner no one asked for.

Much love to @kmomof4 for giving this the once over!

Rated G / Also available on ao3 / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

“It’s a good thing we don’t have Thanksgiving in our land because that dinner would suck.”

~*~

Emma shook off the cold then proceeded up the stairs towards the loft. She had just reached the top of the landing when the door opened, revealing Mary Margaret. Her mother, she reminded herself. She was still having a little trouble with that.

The pixie-haired woman’s eyes lit up when she spotted Emma.

“Emma! You made it!” she exclaimed, swinging the door open and closing it just as quickly several times in a row.

“Yeah,” Emma replied, cocking her head to one side as she took in the strange action. “Leroy took over for me, so I… what are you doing?”

“Trying to cool off the loft,” Mary Margaret explained. “It’s gotten so hot in there, what with the oven and the extra people.”

“Extra people? Who else is--”

“Happy Thanksgiving, Em.”

Startled by the sound of Neal’s voice, Emma nearly stumbled back. Managing to keep herself rooted to the floor of the landing, she stuttered, “Uh… y-yeah. Happy, uh… Happy Thanksgiving to you, too.”

When Emma entered the loft, she clocked Mr. Gold, perusing Mary Margaret’s collectibles and looking as though he might pocket a few of them for his pawn shop. He turned towards her, his hands braced against his cane and offered his own greeting.

“Miss Swan. A pleasure as always.”

Would the man ever not make her skin crawl? She doubted it.

Mary Margaret daintily cleared her throat when Emma didn’t respond.

“I, um… sorry,” Emma said, shaking herself from the shock. “I wasn’t expecting…”

The loft sufficiently aired out, Mary Margaret closed the door fully and imparted, “Oh! I invited them! I didn’t think you’d mind.” A timer went off in the kitchen, grabbing her attention. “Yams are done! Excuse me!”

Emma offered an awkward smile to Neal and Gold then excused herself to follow after Mary Margaret.

“You invited them?” she hissed under her breath at Mary Margaret who was swapping the yams for rolls in the oven. “Neal and Gold? To Thanksgiving?!”

“What? I thought you’d be pleased.” It did not escape Emma’s notice that the woman had yet to look her in the eye. “They’re Henry’s father and grandfather after all.”

“Wait until you find out who else she invited,” David grumbled from the corner of the kitchen, where he’d obviously been hiding out. “Go on. Tell her.”

Emma turned accusatory eyes onto the woman making a show of busying herself as she checked the yams she’d just pulled from the oven. “Who? Who else did you invite?”

“Now, Emma,” Mary Margaret began. “I know the two of you have had your differences, but she did raise Henry. She took care of him for all those years and he considers her every bit as much his mother as you, so…”

“You invited Regina?!”

As if on cue, the door to the loft swung open and the Evil Queen herself strolled in as though she owned the place.

“Sorry I’m late,” she declared, not sounding the least bit sorry.

“Oh, no! You’re right on time,” Mary Margaret called out, waving her further into the loft.

“Regina,” Gold greeted in his usual cool and slightly menacing manner. “I must say, I am surprised the Charmings saw fit to invite you.”

“I could say the same thing about you and your… progeny,” she replied, a poorly veiled smile of contempt pulling at her painted lips.

“Blood is thicker than water, dearie. Or in your case,” he sneered. “Ink on dodgy adoption papers.”

“Papa,” Neal admonished quietly, “You promised.”

Relenting, Gold went back to his suspect perusing and Regina cast her own searching glances around the apartment.

“Where is Henry?” she asked, a tightness applied to her tone that gave away her irritation at not being in the know about her son’s whereabouts.

“He went to the convent to visit the lost boys. He should be back any--”

Heavy, rushed footfalls could be heard echoing off the stairs that led to the loft. Moments later, Henry came crashing through the door with an out of breath apology on his lips. “Sorry I’m late!”

Neal, Gold, and Regina flocked to the poor boy who instantly became the center of their attention. Emma could see Henry quickly becoming overwhelmed by the trio's fawning.

Stepping in between the gaggle, she wrapped an arm around her son. “Hey, kid. Why don’t you get washed up. I think we’re about ready to eat.”

“Yes!” Mary Margaret called out from the kitchen as Henry sprinted up the loft stairs. “Now that everyone is here, we can--”

“Actually…” Emma interrupted in a hedging tone. “I, uh. I invited someone, too.”

Knock, knock, knock.

Everyone’s heads snapped to the front door and Emma nervously tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “And, um… that’s probably him.”

“Him?”

Emma answered the door, quickly slipping through the opening and closing it behind her so she could have a moment with her guest without everyone else’s eyes upon them. Her mouth fell open and she was rendered incapable of speech while her gaze raked over him from head to toe and back again. Standing there under her scrutiny was Hook, dressed in a modern pair of tight black jeans, dark patterned dress shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled and collar agape beneath a stylish waistcoat. The entire look was topped off with a leather jacket and fashionable boots, leaving him looking every bit a twenty-first century man with only his charmed necklace, dangle earring, and ringed fingers referencing his former attire.

He let her stand there, clearly taken aback, a smirk tilting up the corner of his mouth, matching his cheekily raised brow as he balanced a pie in his hand with a rather large gift bag hanging from his hook.

“Hello, love,” he crooned, pulling her from her blatant admiration. “Happy Thanks… giving? Yes?”

“Yeah.” She shook head and silently admonished herself to get a grip even as she stammered, “H-Happy Thanksgiving to you, too. You look…”

“I know,” he quipped, his smirk now accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his forget-me-not gaze. “Shall we?”

Gesturing toward the door with his pie-laden hand, Hook started to advance, only to be halted by Emma’s hand against his chest.

“Before you come inside, you should know that Mary Margaret--”

“Your mother,” Hook corrected; it gave him some sort of perverse satisfaction to remind her who her parents truly were.

“Right. She, um… well, she invited some people I wasn’t expecting, and--”

Behind them, the door swung open and Emma groaned when she caught a glimpse of who it was over her shoulder.

“Hook?” Neal inquired in an accusatory tone. “What are you doing here?”

“Bae, er… Neal,” Hook greeted as he stepped past Emma and crossed the threshold into the loft. The apartment went silent as everyone stared dumbfoundedly at the newest arrival.

“Swan invited me,” he informed them all before turning towards the host and hostess. “I hope that is all right?”

“O-Of course!” Mary Margaret replied, her words a full octave higher than her natural voice. “How wonderful of Emma to invite you! And you brought something, I see.”

“Aye,” Hook said, making his way into the kitchen with Emma on his heels.

She could practically feel the dagger-like gazes following after him from the trio left standing gobsmacked by the dining table.

“Granny’s strawberry and rhubarb pie,” Hook said as he presented the plate towards David. “She said it was the prince’s favorite.”

Emma tried to smother the grin creeping at the corner of her lips in response to David’s reactions. Hook handed over his offering, which was clearly a bribe to get into her father’s good graces, then reached into the gift bag.

“And… for the lady,” he crooned, producing a gorgeous fall-floral bouquet from the bag and handing them to Mary Margaret.

“Oh, Hook, they’re beautiful! Thank you!” Mary Margaret gushed. “Let me find a vase for these. Please, make yourself at home.”

While Mary Margaret searched for a vase, enlisting David’s help to check the upper cabinets she couldn’t reach, Hook leaned in close and whispered into Emma’s ear.

“Don’t worry, love. I didn’t forget about you.” Reaching into the interior pocket of his leather jacket, he flashed her a glimpse of his flask and gave her a knowing wink.

Ignoring the shiver his breath had caused to run down her spine, Emma replied. “Thanks, but believe it or not, the Charmings have that covered.” She gestured towards the sideboard cabinet, littered with alcohol bottles, a punch bowl, various beverage pitchers, and a glass for every type of cocktail conceivable, and said, “Let’s get you a drink. You’re gonna need one.” Mumbling under her breath, she added, “And so will I.”

Emma had just finished garnishing Hook’s drink when Henry called out from the top of the stairs.

“Hook! I didn’t know you were going to be here!”

“Hello, lad,” Hook greeted with a wide smile, and Emma had to take his drink from him when Henry practically tackled the man with a tight hug. Clearly taken aback and overcome with unexpected emotion from the boy’s exuberant greeting, his voice hitched a bit when he said, “Your mother invited me to join your family for the gratitude meal.”

Henry chortled and released Hook. “Thanksgiving,” he corrected. “It’s called Thanksgiving.”

“Aye. Yes. Of course,” Hook replied, pawing adorably at the patch of skin behind his ear.

“Come on,” Henry said, grabbing the man’s hook and leading him towards the table. “You can sit next to me.”

Hook cast wide, startled eyes at Emma, who could only respond with a giggle, biting her lip and watching with fondness as her son instructed the fearsome Captain Hook as to where he should sit. Neal and Regina practically raced one another around the table, as though they were playing a demented game of musical chairs, in an attempt to claim the seat on the other side of Henry. Regina’s expression gloated over her victory for a brief moment until Mary Margaret decreed that the two grandfathers should be seated at the heads of the table, placing Mr. Gold at one end, flanked by Regina on one side and Neal on the other.

After helping Mary Margaret set the rest of the platters and dishes on the table, David took his seat at the opposite end of Gold, shooting Hook - seated to his left - a somewhat distrustful look before plucking his napkin from his plate and placing it on his lap. Mary Margaret sat on her husband’s right side, leaving Emma the middle seat across from Henry and next to Neal. Based on her former lover’s expression, he found that to be a satisfactory consolation to losing the seat next to their son, even if he kept throwing pouting glares towards Regina and Hook.

After the expected hope speeches where their hosts espoused all they had to be thankful for and expressed their gratitude to those gathered, the feasters dug in, cordially passing platters, plates, and bowls while pretending this was a normal, everyday, average occurrence.

Setting down the basket that held the rolls, Emma finally scooped up her first forkful of food. Before bringing it to her mouth, she asked, “Where is Belle? I thought she might have accompanied Gold.” Glancing at Mary Margaret, she inquired, “Did you not invite her?”

“Of course I invited Belle!” Mary Margaret replied as though scandalized by the implication.

“She wished to spend the day with her father,” Gold interjected. “It seems the two of them reconciled whilst we were all in…”

His words fell away and his eyes shifted towards Henry, clearly unsure whether he ought to mention their recent journey to--

“Neverland?” Henry garbled with a mouth full of mashed potatoes. “It’s okay. You don’t have to--”

“Henry, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Regina admonished, pretentiously cutting her turkey into bite-sized pieces.

“Sorry,” Henry mumbled, swallowing hard.

Several moments of uncomfortable silence went by with only the tinkling sound of cutlery upon holiday china filling the space.

“I hope the turkey is to everyone’s liking,” Mark Margaret said, hoping to diffuse the awkwardness and unpleasant memories Neverland evoked. “It’s honestly the first time I’ve ever prepared one. We didn’t have turkeys in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Did a lot of food preparation as a princess, did you?” Regina snarked under her breath, earning her a glare from Emma.

“It’s a fine bird and a fine meal, my lady,” Hook praised. “Reminds me a bit of pheasant, only much larger.”

“Oh, pheasant!” Mary Margaret replied in a fond and reminiscent tone. “I do love pheasant. And quail! I remember my father used to host banquets where everyone was presented with their own plated quail. Remember Regina? Weren’t those the best banquets?”

“I remember,” Regina responded, picking at her plate with a slightly disgusted air. “Although, truthfully, I was never fond of pheasant or quail. My mother had a penchant for another roasted bird.”

Gold sputtered into his wine, but quickly recovered. With a slight cough he cleared his throat and met Regina’s eye. The two of them seemed to enjoy a private joke,; one Emma was certain she would not find funny.

“Swan?” Hook said, grabbing her attention and causing another pair of smirks to form on the dastardly duo’s lips. “Would you pass the gravy?”

“Sure,” Emma replied, handing the gravy boat across the table. His rough, callused fingertips brushed against her hand, sending a current up her arm. From the way his gaze changed, turning intense and smoldering, her touch had the same effect on him. Wetting her lips caused his eyes to darken further and she quickly turned her attention back to her plate, willing her now erratic heartbeat to slow and steady itself.

“You know, Emma,” Mary Margaret began, something in her tone making Emma’s heart pound harder but for vastly different reasons than it had been. “Your father and I have been talking and we… Well, we just thought, now that we’re all together and a family, maybe you would consider… changing your name.”

“Change my name? Why would I--”

“Not Emma,” Mary Margaret clarified. “No, no. We gave you that name. Granny’s the one who stitched it on your baby blanket. Did I ever tell you? That it was Granny who made your baby blanket? I don’t know that I ever--”

“Mary Margaret,” Emma snapped at the prattling woman. “What are you talking about?”

“She’s talking about the name Swan,” David chimed in, setting down his wine glass so he could take his wife’s hand in a show of solidarity. “We thought you might want to change your last name from Swan to Nolan. You know… take our name.”

“But Nolan isn’t your name,” Emma countered. “It’s the name Regina gave you when she cursed--”

“The curse gave them that name. Not me,” Regina interrupted, sharply. “Do you really think I would have wasted my time renaming everyone in the kingdom?”

“Whatever,” Emma exasperated, waving off Regina’s words. “Point is, no one at this table, save for Henry, Regina, and me uses their actual, official, given at birth names.”

“But don’t you want the connection a family name can give you?” Mary Margaret argued. “A name that comes from the people who love you rather than one with no meaning that was assigned to you at random?”

Emma sucked in a hurt breath and blinked back the sting of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. From beneath the table, she felt a foot press against hers and knew it belonged to Hook. Unable to bring herself to look at him for fear the compassion, comfort, and commiseration she knew would be evident in his gaze would cause her resolve to break and force down the wall that was currently keeping her emotional turmoil from spilling out across the holiday table, Emma picked up her wine glass and began pouring its contents down her throat.

Oblivious of the wound her words had opened, Mary Margaret continued her crusade, declaring, “In fact, it seems to me, Emma isn’t the only one who should consider changing their last name. Don’t we think Henry’s last name ought to be Cassidy?”

Choking on her wine, Emma erupted into a fit of coughs and was therefore unable to respond.

Fortunately - or unfortunately - Regina was quick with a retort.

“No. We do not think Henry’s last name ought to be anything other than Mills.” Narrowing her eyes at Mary Margaret, she reminded everyone, “Henry is my son.”

“Actually,” Neal chimed in. “Seeing as I never forfeited my parental rights, I think Mary Margaret has a point.”

“You would have had to be named on the birth certificate in order to receive parental rights and seeing as Miss Swan left the section for father blank…”

“Perhaps this conversation should be tabled until later,” Hook suggested while casting furtive glances towards Henry who had gone quiet. The boy’s attention was fixed on his plate, but his hands were no longer shoveling food into his mouth. In fact, they appeared to be resting in his lap, probably wringing or clasped tightly together - like Emma’s were now.

She was about to voice her agreement when Neal angrily blurted out, “You didn’t put me down as the father?!”

Outrage flared to life within her, and against her better judgment she shot back, “Are you seriously going to make yourself the victim when you are the reason I was sent to prison in the first place? Sentenced to eleven months for a crime you committed and turned me in for?”

“He what?!” David and Hook both exclaimed, dropping their cutlery with a harsh clang against their plates.

“I thought we’d put that behind us,” Neal sighed derisively. “I told you that August said it was necessary in order for you to fulfill--”

Emma let out a scathing laugh. “Let’s not pretend you setting me up had anything to do with my destiny. We both know it was because you were too much of a coward to face your father.”

“Let me get this straight,” David cut in, his tone a little too calm. “You set my daughter up for a crime she didn’t commit and left her, pregnant, to serve your time, which was sufficient enough that she had to give birth while incarcerated and ultimately left with little to no option but to give the baby up for adoption?”

Neal squirmed in his seat, his gaze bouncing from David’s, to Mary Margaret’s, to Hook’s, to Emma’s, bypassing Regina’s before landing on his father who casually, yet threateningly, addressed the prince’s accusations.

“I imagine my son did what he thought best at the time.” With a pointed look, he swept his eyes over those gathered, paying particular attention to Hook and Regina, before adding, “I dare say many of us at this table have justified our questionable actions by the good of our intentions.”

“Besides,” Neal added. “I didn’t even know she was pregnant. And,” he threw in with a note of triumph, as though these final words would somehow absolve him, “I gave her the bug and the money I got fencing the watches, so it’s not like I left her with no--”

“What money?” Emma demanded. “There was no money.”

“No money?” Neal parroted. “What do you mean there was no money? I gave August twenty grand in cash when I gave him the keys to the bug. He said he’d make sure you’d get--”

Regina clucked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “You gave Pinocchio twenty thousand dollars in cash and trusted him - Pinocchio - to resist temptation and do the right thing?”

“Hey! If August stole the money then that’s on him.” Turning in his seat to face Emma, Neal said, “He’s the one you should be angry with. Not me.”

“Don’t tell me who I ought to be angry with,” Emma seethed between grit teeth.

“Sounds as though,” Gold said haughtily as he toyed with his food like a cat did with a mouse, “Regina owes August a thank you. If he hadn’t absconded with the funds then Miss Swan may have had the wherewithal to keep her son.”

Regina narrowed her eyes at Gold. “I’m still not convinced you didn’t have a hand in all of this. Your son and the Saviour, producing a child I just happened to adopt, which eventually led her here to break my curse. This whole thing reeks of your interference and meddling.”

“If we’re going to place blame,” Gold replied, his tone like a coiling snake, readying itself to strike,. “Intervention, whether by destiny, the fates, or the miraculous way you seem to think I could have orchestrated matters whilst under the curse, would not have been necessary if you had not cast the curse in the first place.”

“You mean the one you practically dared me to cast?” Regina shot back. “The one you groomed me for with every lesson, every dark act, every evil you manipulated me into committing?”

“Oh! So you becoming the Evil Queen is my fault, is it? I thought that honor lay with Snow White. You know… the brat who told your little secret and caused the murder of your Twoo Wuv.”

“I WAS TEN!” Mary Margaret exploded, slamming her hands down and shaking the serving dishes as she stood, causing the rest of the table goers (save for two) to erupt with their long held grievances as well.

Over the cacophony of accusations, outrage, and vitriol, Henry popped up and shouted, “Stop it! Why can’t you all just be grateful for once? Why can’t you all just forgive each other and get along? Now you’ve ruined Thanksgiving! You’ve ruined EVERYTHING!”

Pushing his way around the table, he sprinted up the steps to the upper level and stomped into the bathroom above, shutting himself in with a heavy slam of the door. Momentarily stalled by shock, it took Emma, Neal, and Regina a few seconds to leap into action, intending to go after him as they called out for him to come back down. Their pursuit of their son was thwarted by Hook, who maneuvered his way to the bottom step and blocked their path with his imposing frame.

“Leave him be,” he commanded in his captain’s voice. “The lad needs some time, as do the lot of you, so--”

“What makes you the expert on what my son needs, huh?” Neal demanded, getting into Hook’s face and refusing to be intimated by the man’s fearsome demeanor. “What right do you have to tell us--”

“Perhaps because I knew the lad’s father when he was that age?” Hook reminded him sternly before turning his gaze onto Regina. “Or because I understand the temperament of the woman who raised him.” His steely eyes shifted again, connecting with Emma’s and reading her as the open book she’d always been to him; which was likely why his voice softened and his hard expression diminished as he added, “And I have had the privilege of getting to know the woman who birthed him.” Their gazes held for a significant beat or two more before Hook swallowed and continued, “The amalgamation of the three of you just ran up those steps, distraught. So ask yourselves… if that was you barricading yourself in the one place a person might seek solitude in this home, would you want to be pursued right now?”

They all stood silent for a moment. Like Emma, Neal and Regina knew he was right, but were clearly loath to admit it. Emma, however, had no problem conceding to his point.

“Hook’s right,” she said with a sigh. “We should give Henry some space.”

Neal scoffed and stepped away from the stairs, grumbling, “I should have known you’d side with him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emma demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Neal accused. “He’s not here because he’s got Henry’s best interests at heart. He’s not even family! Why is he even here?”

“I’m here,” Hook interjected. “Because Emma invited me. Because she wished it.”

“Right,” Neal clipped, side-eyeing the pirate. “And I’m sure you didn’t manipulate or coerce her in any way. We all know what your real intentions are.”

“Neal,” Emma replied exasperatedly. “You’re being ridiculous. This-” she gestured with her hands to the situation around them “-is not about us. It’s about--”

“Actually,” David interrupted, reminding Emma of the presence of the others in attendance. “I, for one, would like to know the pirate’s intentions.” Crossing the room, he faced off with Hook and said, “In fact, I think it's time you and I have a little talk about your intentions with my daughter.”

“David,” Mary Margaret admonished. “Now is not the time.”

Hook shifted his weight and tucked his thumb into his belt, attempting to give off an unaffected air as he quipped, “That's a little old-fashioned even by my standards, and despite my updated wardrobe… I still pay with doubloons.”

“Neal has a point, though,” David continued. “We all know your reputation.” His eyes cut over to Gold, who had strangely kept silent about Hook’s presence all evening. “Emma is not some conquest.”

“Aye. She’s not,” Hook agreed vehemently.

He stepped forward, squaring off with David. Not in a menacing way, more like an attempt to block out everyone else so this moment could be just between them.

“Whatever we become,” he said in a low, sincere tone, “it's up to her as much as me.” Relaxing his shoulders, he rocked back, putting some space between them and added, “And as I told Neal after we made our way back from Neverland… I’m in this for the long haul.”

The last few words were not delivered towards David. As he paused, he brought his eyes even with Emma’s and her breath caught at the earnestness swimming in their blue depths. The truth of his declaration made her heart skip and her skin flush.

“You also said you’d back off,” Neal reminded him in an accusatory tone. “For Henry’s sake. You call this backing off?”

Her focus still on Hook and his intense scrutiny, most likely wondering if all these heartfelt admissions and profound promises would send her running for the hills, she took a step towards him and on a breathy exhale, asked, “You said that?”

“Aye,” Hook confirmed, his Adam’s apple bobbing uncomfortably. “I said I would let the lad’s parents have a fair shot without a devilishly handsome pirate standing in the way.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he replied with a lopsided smile. “I am devilishly handsome.”

The wink he gave her was enough to balance the overwhelming emotions his words had stirred up, putting them back on playful, easy footing. Emma rolled her eyes, as she normally did when he was being outrageously flirtatious, but noticed his demeanor had shifted back to serious.

“You were right, though, love,” he imparted. “The situation we find ourselves in isn’t about any of us. It’s about Henry.” Turning to address the entire group, he said, “Henry is what binds you all together. He’s the reason you ought to set aside your grievances, bury the hatchet, and let bygones be bygones.”

Emma noted the way Hook and Gold’s gazes connected, and she was momentarily transported into the memory of being on deck of Hook’s ship, desperate to follow Greg and Tamara to wherever they’d taken Henry, while sick to her stomach at the knowledge that it would take old foes working together in order to achieve their goal.

“So, are you done trying to kill me?”

“I believe so.”

“Excellent. Then you can live.”

“He’s what makes you a family.”

The pirate had managed to admonish them all - including the Dark One and the Evil Queen. Sheepishly, they glanced around at one another and started to make their way back to their seats - save for one.

“And seeing as this is really a family affair, I think it best I take my leave.”

“No, please,” Mary Margaret argued. “Won’t you stay and have some pie?”

Hook offered her a kind and appreciative smile even as he continued towards the door. “Thank you, but no. I truly appreciate your hospitality in including me, but I need to return to my ship. Her upkeep never takes a holiday.”

“Well… if you're sure?”

“I am,” he said, opening the door with a final farewell. “Enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Emma offered, grabbing her coat off the peg by the door and following him out before anyone could say anything about it.

“Swan,” Hook said with a note of objection as the door closed behind them. “You don’t have to--”

“I need some air,” she told him, making her way past him and heading down the stairs.

Hook hurried behind her, reaching the door that led out to the street first and swinging it wide for her to exit. When she stepped out into the cold evening air she inhaled deeply, the chill stinging her lungs and burning her chest from the inside in an invigorating way.

“Are you alright, love?”

The fog of her exhaled breath hung between them as she considered his question.

“Yeah,” she answered, somewhat honestly. “I’m just sorry I dragged you into the drama. If I had known Mary Margaret was inviting--”

“It’s okay, Swan,” he assured her. “Trust me when I say, I have attended far more contemptuous and tension-filled dinners.”

Emma let out an amused huff. “I can only imagine.”

Her phone buzzed in her back pocket, alerting her to a text. When she pulled it out and unlocked the screen, she was surprised to see a message from David.

“Swan? What is it? Anything amiss?”

“No,” she answered. “It’s David.”

“Ah,” Hook said, shifting his weight into the stance she recognized as one he employed as a means to deflect notice of his discomfort, feelings of inadequacy, or vulnerability. “Checking up on you, is he? Concerned that you are out alone with a villain such as I?”

“Actually, no,” she informed him, which caused his brows to shoot up in surprise. “I mean, yeah. He’s checking up on me, but not for the reasons you think.”

“What did he say?” Hook asked, incapable of concealing his curiosity.

“I’m sorry about dinner. I told your mother it was a bad idea. Let’s hope she doesn’t insist on a repeat at Christmas. Take all the time you need and…”

“And?”

Emma’s head snapped up, her eyes connecting with Hook’s. “And… tell Hook he is welcome any time.”

Clearly taken aback, Hook reached up and rubbed the patch of skin behind his ear. “Well, that is rather unexpected.”

“I’d say,” she teased. “Guess those pirate charms work on more than just us damsels in distress.”

Hook huffed and rolled his eyes. “You have never been a damsel in distress, love.”

“I might be if Mary Margaret insists on making as big a deal about Christmas as she did Thanksgiving.” Shaking her head, she pushed back against the tightness threatening to build in her chest.

“Not a fan of Christmas?” Hook inquired. “I confess my knowledge of the holiday is limited, but it seems to have many of the same aspects as Yule.”

“I don’t know anything about Yule,” she told him, before quietly confessing, “But no. I’m not really a fan of the holidays in general, and I don’t relish the idea of Mary Margaret trying to ‘make up for lost time’ by forcing us to celebrate traditions that hold nothing but painful memories.”

“Perhaps,” Hook offered hesitantly, “new traditions are in order, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he continued on in an adorably uncomfortable way. “You said you know nothing of Yule, so I thought… Perhaps you might be interested in allowing me to share some of its customs and traditions with you?”

“You… you would do that?”

“Aye,” he replied, softly, “I understand how wounds that are made when we are young tend to linger.”

The familiar instinct to run and avoid any further vulnerable or emotional outpourings worked its way towards the surface, making her next words come out sassier than she intended.

“How would you know?

A knowing smile tugged at his lips and he matched her tone. “Believe it or not, I was once a child.”

“Yeah, like a million years ago,” she needled, grateful that he seemed to know her well enough to play along, even as that thought heightened her flight response.

“It was more like two hundred,” he corrected with feigned exasperation. A moment of reflection passed before he continued, “I have very fond memories of Yule as a child. It was my mother’s favorite time of the year, and… well… As we’ve established, I haven't had cause to celebrate it for far too many years.” Sensing her need for an exit, he added, “But we don’t have to plan anything definitive just now.” Glancing up at the exterior of the loft, he said, “You still have this holiday to make it through.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” she groused, playfully, edging back towards the door. “I should probably get back up there and check on Henry.”

“Aye,” he agreed, reaching for the handle when she did, their hands connecting and sending another surge of energy through her; one that also seemed to crackle between them.

“Tell, uh…” Hook ran his tongue over his bottom lip and Emma was suddenly very aware of how close they were to one another. “Tell Henry goodbye for me?”

“I will,” she promised, her body involuntarily swaying towards his until she caught herself and backed away, allowing him to open the door for her. She stepped through and climbed a few steps before turning back and calling after him. “Hey, Hook?”

“Yes, love?” he said, catching the door before it closed.

Mustering her courage and suppressing the instinct to rush up the stairs, she made her way back to him, she said, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Pressing up on her toes, she brushed her lips against his cheek and answered, “For being something I am thankful for.”

Tagging the Curious Crew: (add to tag list)

(Please be advised that I only keep one tag list for all fic updates and new works. If at any time you wish to be removed, just shoot me an ask or a DM. No worries.)

@kmomof4 @jrob64 @zaharadessert @laianely @booksteaandtoomuchtv

@the-darkdragonfly @undercaffinatednightmare @killianxswan @mie779 @motherkatereloyshipper

@jennjenn615 @jonesfandomfanatic @anmylica @superchocovian @caught-in-the-filter

@winterbaby89 @wyntereyez @stahlop @resident-of-storybrooke @gingerchangeling

@exhaustedpirate @cocohook38 @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda @teamhook

@jackieorioncat @paradiselady19 @snowbellewells @earanemith @ultraluckycatnd

@pirateherokillian @calmjoonie @unworried-corsair @tiganasummertree @captainswan-kellie

@soniccat @kday426 @djlbg @fairytalepretzkle @maggiegreenvt

@natascha-ronin @ilovemesomekillianjones @iamstartraveller776 @deckerstarblanche @shadowsaur

@qualitycoffeethings @idristardis @phoenix-untamed @bluewildcatfanatic @bananachickens

[taratarotgreene]

October Astrology and Tarot guide

Watch the live recording from October 1, I go through all the details of the planets and pull tarot cards for sun moon and rising signs. fb.watch/nqhOyz4r0q/