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whimsicallyenchantedrose · 10 months

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Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 14: The Yuletide Challenge (1/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t! One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia. A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns. So here you go! Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: T

Word Count: 1643

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Today’s story is an AU based on this prompt from @kmomof4: Character A vows to do something nice for a stranger during the Christmas time. Character B is that stranger. It was written in 2017.

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Emma took a deep breath, smoothed down her tight red dress, and stepped through the doors of The Rabbit Hole, the premiere bar in the tiny town of Storybrooke, Maine, and scanned the interior for some poor, sad soul who looked in need of Christmas cheer. She rolled her eyes. How the hell had she let Mary Margaret talk her into this?

It all started the week before, when Emma had gone to her adoptive brother David’s and her sister-in-law Mary Margaret’s loft apartment for Thanksgiving dinner. Emma had never been a big holiday person. Growing up in the system, being in and out of group homes, she’d never really had a family to spend the special days with, at least until David’s mom, Ruth had taken her in just before her fifteenth birthday. By that point, Emma was used to being a loner, and she preferred it that way. If you don’t let people in, they can’t hurt you, right? Most Thanksgivings and Christmases, even now that she was an adult with a brother and sister-in-law she loved, were spent alone, take-out and Netflix her big holiday companions.

But after a bad break up with her longtime boyfriend, (what had she ever seen in Walsh, that idiotic flying monkey!) Emma had decided it was time for a change. She’d packed up her swanky New York apartment and relocated to Storybrooke where there was a job as her brother, the sheriff’s, deputy was waiting for her. And with Emma living in the same town during the holidays, Mary Margaret simply would not take no as an answer to her invitation to have Thanksgiving dinner with the family.

Emma had to admit dinner with the family had been nice. There was something so damn heartwarming about sharing a holiday with the ones she loved.

It was only after the feast had been consumed, the dishes had been washed, and the post-meal nap had been taken that things took a rather unfortunate turn.

Mary Margaret got awkwardly to her feet (it was one of the drawbacks of being nearly 7 months pregnant, after all) and clinked her water glass to get everyone’s attention.

“So David and I have been thinking,” she’d said. “We thought it would be a good idea to start a new family tradition during the holiday season.”

Emma was immediately on alert. When her sister in law had that look in her eyes it always spelled trouble. “Um…okay? Just what kind of tradition are we talking about?”

“The Yuletide challenge!” Mary Margaret said excitedly.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” Emma said, “but what exactly is a Yuletide challenge?”

“I saw an article about it in the holiday edition of my favorite magazine, Storybrooke Today,” Mary Margaret said. “Basically, the idea is to spread Christmas cheer to the people who need it most.”

Emma crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t really do the whole ‘Christmas cheer’ thing.”

“Oh come on, Emma!” Mary Margaret insisted. “Christmas is the season of giving! At least listen to the whole idea before rejecting it. I promise this challenge will make us all feel warm and fuzzy inside.”

The puppy dog eyes. Her sister in law was giving her the puppy dog eyes. She wasn’t playing fair. Not at all.

“It actually sounds like a pretty interesting idea, Emma,” David said, backing up his wife after she tossed him a pointed look.

Emma sighed. “Fine. What exactly are the rules of this whole Yuletide challenge thing?”

Mary Margaret’s smile could light up the sun. “Each of us will find a person in town—someone we don’t know, or at least don’t know well—who seems down on their luck, or sad, or just in general in need of cheer. We make it our mission to do little acts of kindness for that person throughout the season. You’ve got to do at least one good thing for them per week, and once you’ve picked your person, there’s no going back! That’s your person for the season. Could be by Christmas time we’ll each have a brand new friend!”

Emma wasn’t a people person. She didn’t do random acts of kindness for strangers. She kept to herself and let them keep to themselves. Life was just better that way. Still…Mary Margaret was really excited about this idea. What could it hurt to spread a little kindness during the busiest, most hectic time of year?

“Alright,” Emma said on another sigh. “Count me in. I’ll take the Yuletide challenge.”

And that’s how Emma found herself in a bar, dressed to impress, looking for someone who looked sad and down on his luck. It was nearing the end of the first week of December, and she’d yet to find her victim…er giftee. She had to find someone fast before she forfeited the challenge before even beginning.

Emma saw him right away, as though a magnet had drawn her eyes to him. He was handsome (hot as hell, really), with his soft black hair, mesmerizing blue eyes, dusting of scruff, jeans and black leather jacket. But it wasn’t his looks that immediately drew Emma to him. It was the dejected, almost despairing look on his face as he nursed his glass of rum at his lonely table at the back of the establishment. If anyone needed a little Christmas cheer, it was this guy.

Squaring her shoulders, Emma walked purposefully to his table. He looked up at the sound of her stiletto heels moving across the floor, his eyes showing surprise and appreciation as he took in the sight of her.

“This seat taken?” she asked, reaching for the chair across from him.

He waved with his right hand. “Be my guest, love.”

The smooth, British accent, combined with his far above average looks did things to her insides. Emma turned away, taking the chair. Get it together, Swan! You’re not some teenager who gets crushes on hot strangers!

“So, my name’s Emma Swan,” she said. “And who might you be?”

“Killian Jones,” he answered, “but people have taken to calling me by my more colorful moniker. Hook.”

The man raised his left arm, and Emma noticed the nautical hook which sat in place of a hand. Well that wasn’t weird or anything. “Um…why do you have a hook instead of a hand?”

Smooth Emma. Really smooth. Nothing like starting out the Yuletide challenge with a major faux pas.

One dark eyebrow rose and a half smile draped his lips. “I’ve always been fascinated with Captain Hook, so after I lost the hand, my Halloween costume was rather obvious. The hook has proven so bloody useful, I simply chose to keep it.”

“Oh, well…sorry about your hand.”

A shadow passed over his face. “Aye, well, it’s been five years, almost to the day since the accident.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then drained his glass in one gulp, hastily pouring himself another.

If Emma didn’t miss her guess, and she rarely did, an ability to read people was one of the things that made her one of the best bail bonds persons New York had ever seen, there was more to the story, than simply the loss of a hand. The poor guy was in misery even alluding to the event.

Nice job, Emma. Instead of spreading Christmas cheer, you’ve managed to make this guy relive his worst memory.

“Killian….I’m sorry…”

He waved her off. “It’s no matter, Swan. Seems it’s a night for melancholy musings, but I survived. Now, I’d rather discuss something pleasanter if you don’t mind. What exactly brought such a beautiful woman to my table on this cold winter’s night?”

Emma took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “So I was wondering if you’d help me with something.”

His eyebrow rose in question.

“Let me buy your next round,” she said, “and then, well, maybe I could do some nice things for you.”

His expression changed in an instant. Surprise and melancholy replaced with pure lasciviousness. “That’s quite the offer, darling. It’s not every day a gorgeous woman offers herself as my Christmas gift.”

Emma felt her face flame. “Oh my gods! I wasn’t propositioning you, Killian!” (Though…if he kept looking at her like that…well, there was no telling what might come of this night.)

He sighed dramatically. “My profound loss. So, Swan, if you weren’t asking me for what, I assure you would be a very, very pleasant roll in the sheets, what precisely were you offering?”

“You see, my sister-in-law, Mary Margaret, had this idea for the holiday season….” And with that she laid out the whole sappy challenge for him. “And, I don’t know. You just look like you could use a friend. So what do you say?”

Killian took a long sip of his rum, and Emma tried her best not to watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, not to follow the line down to his firm chest where luscious, abundant chest hair peeked out from beneath a partially buttoned shirt. “Oh I don’t know, Swan. I rather think spending a night together in my bed would count as a kindness.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, not happening. We’re talking warm, fuzzy, purely platonic acts of kindness.”

He sighed dramatically, and she grinned in spite of herself. He was such an idiot. But…he was an adorable idiot, and she couldn’t help but sense she’d enjoy the time she’d inevitably spend with him, should he accept her offer.

A soft, almost shy smile replaced the teasing on his face. “Very well, Emma. I will be the recipient of your challenge.”

NEXT CHAPTER->

#christmas reruns 2023 #cs fanfiction #captain swan christmas ff #my fanfiction #the yuletide challenge

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thewhiterabbit42 · 7 years

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Ashes to Flame

Summary: When the light of your world becomes faded, your friends search for a way to bring it back and their desperation leads to a startling discovery.

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader

Warnings/tags: Soulmates, some angst, fluff

Word Count: Almost 4200

Author’s Note: This was written for @girl-next-door-writes Christmas/Birthday Challenge. I’m sorry I’m late on this, sweetie, and hope you enjoy it! My prompt was: “It’s never too late to be what you want to be.. unless you want to be younger, then you’re screwed.”

Special thanks to @sumara62 my wonderful beta and @nobodys-baby-now for listening to my whining and sympathizing with my inability to make deadlines (among other things).

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my written permission. Giving credit does NOT count. Reblogging is ok.***

You couldn’t remember ever being this tired.

It was more than just weariness that had settled into your bones. The days bled into each other, the minutes stretching together in one long string of empty moments. It felt like you existed within shades of grey, everything around you saturated with cooler hues. The more time that passed, the bluer everything became. The world. You. Even the sun fell flat, the warmth on your face overshadowed by the ever-fading colors, and every time it set, you felt another piece of yourself disappear with it.

You had no idea what had happened. One moment you were awash in a sea of yellows, from the flickering candlelight to the faded parchment of ancient texts. You were doing a favor for an old friend of your father’s, burying yourself in lore that hadn’t seen the light of day in years, if ever. Your eyes closed for the briefest moment, your fingers trying to rub the dull ache behind them away as you tried to remember what daylight even was.

A sudden chilliness descended, something that was far more frequent than you liked, and you tried not to think of how many spirits likely roamed the old monastery halls. This cold snap hit deep, however, and a shudder tore through you, causing your eyes to immediately open. You blinked once, then again, stare widening as everything around you suddenly took on the tones of a faded, discolored photograph.

That had been years ago, and it had never been the same after that.

It couldn’t have happened at a worse time. The entire hunter community was up in arms about the impending apocalypse, the very thing you were hip deep in research over. Lucifer was loose from the cage. Everyone you knew was too caught up in the chaos, including yourself, to focus on anything else.

When that storm had settled, you were finally introduced to the infamous Winchesters, and once your existence collided with theirs, you were never able to extricate yourself from them. You considered enlisting their help, but there never seemed to be much time to focus on anything other than whatever burgeoning mess they happened to step into. Angel wars. Leviathan. Your own troubles seemed so miniscule in comparison, and it was almost two and a half years before you even mentioned anything to them.

By then, however, it was too late.

They gave it a valiant effort. They devoted any and all spare time between cases to yours. Your desire to know, however, had dwindled, and many other inclinations followed.

Your driving curiosity was the first to go, the very thing that had led you into the world of monsters and hunting. The next was your passion, which had always given you the extra reserves needed to see a case through and move on to the next, no matter how tired or hopeless it seemed. Without that spark, your compassion closely followed, allowing the emptiness you felt when you looked around to entrench itself, and slowly the world you saw became an accurate reflection of what lay inside of you.

Your friends had been with you every step of that transformation, though they hadn’t known what to do about it. Sam tried to get you to talk, but you often felt there was nothing to say. This wasn’t some mood you were in. It wasn’t stress, lingering memories, or bad experiences grating away at you. It just was.

Dean was more of a doer. He tried to take you out more, get you drunk, and bring you places with good food and even better prospects for one night stands. You’d gone along with it for a while, though you’d never taken anyone home. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d enjoyed someone else’s touch, let alone your own. Pleasure was yet another of the many things that had become lost, like all the warmth and vibrancy in life had burned out, leaving you surrounded by a sea of ashes.

Recently, however, you’d stopped entertaining those attempts, finding you couldn’t muster enough will to try anymore, even for him. You knew they were worried, but there just wasn’t enough of anything left within you to do anything about it. You heard them sometimes, late at night, when they thought you were asleep.

“We can’t just sit here and continue to do nothing.”

“Dean… I’m not sure what we can do. Talking doesn’t help. Getting her out, making her hunt, doing things here, nothing seems to work,” Sam sighed.

“There’s gotta be something wrong with her,” Dean persisted.

“I have checked. Many, many times.” Cas sounded weary of the topic, though he was just as concerned as the brothers. “If there is, I can find no natural cause for it.”

There was nothing natural about this, but between the four of you, you had thoroughly covered the usual supernatural causes. If it was witchcraft, it was so ancient and obscure you were certain to never find it. You had all gone back to the monastery and ruled out the possibility of a curse. All the spirits on the grounds were benevolent and former occupants. Even Crowley hadn’t ever seen or heard of anything like it (though you had declined his offer of more thorough testing).

You’d given up looking for a “cure.” You were fairly certain nothing short of a miracle could reverse what had been done, and your faith, though one of the last things to go, was just as lost to you as everything else. You didn’t deny them their hope, however. You were empty, not heartless.

It didn’t come as a surprise when they, too, eventually accepted that things just were.

What did surprise you, however, was that they still never gave up, though their search for a reason deviated from its original course. At least you assumed it had by the unexpected intervention they put together for you one night.

“So am I being voted off the island?” You asked, looking at the row of concerned faces sitting across the table from you. There was nothing wrong with your wit, and every now and then your sense of humor surfaced. The words, however, sounded vacant, as if human sentiment no longer stirred inside of you.

“I - no,” Sam fumbled with his words, caught off guard by your shrewd stare. That’s when you knew they were definitely asking you to leave. You weren’t sure what was more disturbing (mostly because nothing actually disturbed you anymore): the fact that this was happening or that all they had to do was ask and you would have gone and packed your bags without a second thought.

“We’re worried. We can tell you’re not happy, that you haven’t been in a long time,” he continued.

He was right. Joy was as foreign to you as the oranges and coppers that had slowly vanished from your sight, leaving you with the colder, more bitter hues.

“We were wondering if you’ve ever been happy here,” Dean broke in. “I know this life isn’t the easiest. There’s not a lot of time for things most people enjoy… but you used to enjoy it. This.” He held his hands up, gesturing around the bunker.

You had, once, to whatever capacity you’d been capable. You weren’t sure when exactly you’d stopped feeling the comfort of their company and walls, but that, too, had fizzled out.

“If this isn’t what you want, y/n, you can tell us,” Sam continued. “This is as much your home as it is ours, and we want you here, but --”

“Only if I’m happy,” you guessed. You couldn’t blame them. Who wanted a husk of a person hanging around, siphoning off their energy in an attempt to stay alive?

“Only if it makes you happy,” he corrected. “You don’t have to be anything for us, including pretending to want something you might not anymore.”

Your eyes narrowed on him, unable to follow his line of thinking. Want was as foreign as it was familiar. You could remember what it was like to have a desire for things. You just weren’t sure what they expected you to want.

“This doesn’t have to be it,” Dean continued. “You don’t have to stay in this life, kiddo. It’s never too late to be what you want to be... unless you want to be younger, then you’re screwed.”

His smiled at you, trying to lighten the situation. For their sake, you tried to let him, mimicking the gesture as best you could. Yet, it came out as hollow as it felt, and his mirth flickered out just as quickly as it had appeared.

“It’s not hunting,” you told them. “It’s not this place. It’s not you.”

You could go on for hours listing off all the things it wasn’t. How to make them understand what it was, however, was beyond you. You barely did yourself, other than ever since that day, you had been inexplicably withering away inside at a slow, anguishing pace. You were no different than a flower plucked from the field. No matter how many times your water was changed, no matter how much nourishment was added, you were not meant to survive as incomplete as you now were.

“It’s not that I don’t see the way I used to,” you continued, an unexpected clarity forming along the outskirts of your consciousness. “That’s a symptom, not a cause. Something was taken from me.”

The answer was suddenly there, looming over you. Perhaps it had always been, but right then, it was so tangible you could feel it, dancing along the fringe of your understanding.

“What was taken?” Cas asked.

“Everything,” you breathed, and the moment the word was out that knowledge vanished, leaving you just as lost and answerless as before.

The hushed conversations only grew more frequent after that.

“Tell me that wasn’t creepy…”

“Dean…” Sam sounded like he’d rather be having any conversation at the moment other than this one.

“Did you see the look on her face when she said that?”

“It was intuitive, visceral, a leap that defies logic and understanding,” Cas said so casually you would have thought he was explaining how clouds formed.

“You know what it was?”

“I believe the universe was speaking through her,” the angel explained.

“Great. Now the only explanation we have is that the cosmos is trying its hand at ventriloquism with our friend.”

…

“There’s nothing on universal threads or cosmic connections that would explain any of this,” Sam sighed.

A thundering rumble invaded through the room, as if several books had been dropped all at once.

“Maybe not in your library.”

…

“Soulmates? Seriously?” Dean’s incredulousness echoed well beyond the walls of the library.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve heard about them,” Sam reminded.

“Sharing a Heaven with someone you bond with is one thing, but this? This is beyond that. This is - I don’t even know what this is.”

“It’s a thread of cosmic energy that is woven well before the existence of individuals that becomes activated once they both come into being,” Cas’ rough voice filled the silence.

“Tell me it doesn’t sound like a whole world of crazy just fell out of his mouth,” Dean demanded.

“Honestly? It sounds like more than we’ve had in months now,” Sam shrugged.

…

“No. No freaking way!”

“Dean --”

“Don’t Dean me, Sammy!” He roared. “There is no way in Heaven or Hell we are bringing that douche back.”

“That douche just happened to save our lives,” Sam reminded patiently. “And gave us the means to put Lucifer back in his cage.”

“And trapped us in an alternate reality, and toyed with us on several other occasions, and --”

“Is my brother and an archangel, which is one of the only beings in existence with the power to be able to help,” Cas broke in. “Unless you’d like to take our chances with one of the others? I’m sure Raphael will be very pleased to see me after what happened, and I bet Michael would love to get his hands on either of you after locking him away with Lucifer. Unless you’d like to see if letting the devil out, again, works any better this time around?”

The silence that ensued was deafening.

“I take that as unanimous agreement that we should stick with the douche.”

You had no idea who they were talking about. You didn’t even ask a single question when they finally let you in on their plan. Trying to resurrect an archangel seemed a little over the top (not to mention dangerous) but you didn’t have it in you to argue.

You just wanted it to be over. If there was something that accompanied the void, it might’ve been different. A gnawing. An ache. But there was nothing, which was exactly what you felt you had become.

At this point, they could have told you they were sacrificing you to the God of Obscure References and you would have gone along just as willingly.

As it was, you only needed to take a trip with them a few states away.

...

Muncie, Indiana. Something ominous settled over you regarding the location. It was the first response you’d had in awhile, and the world around you rippled, an echo of something seeping into listless tones. The effect was short-lived, however, and it wasn’t long before everything settled back into that stark, wearisome, monochromatic spectrum.

You got tired of watching the landscape, unable to stand plot after plot of golden corn fields now a ghostly shade of white. For some reason, that color in particular bothered you, and that was all that seemed to lay between you and your destination.

“What’s the point of this?” You asked, breaking the pensive silence in the vehicle. You felt every head in the car swivel in your direction.

“An archangel is the most powerful being in existence, aside from my father,” Cas explained. “If anyone can help you, it will be him.”

Him.

“Gabriel,” you stated, an odd dissonance tugging at the emptiness as the name leapt off your tongue. Through process of elimination, you had drawn your own conclusion as to which one you would be trying to bring back.

The angel glanced over at you, surprised. “Yes. Gabriel. The others were deemed too unstable.”

Dean snorted. “That entire branch of your family has some issues around stability and sanity in general.”

“And douchiness?” You guessed.

His eyes met yours in the rear-view mirror. “You heard us.”

“I don’t sleep much,” you reminded.

He exchanged a look with Sam who then turned to face you. “Just how much did you hear?”

You briefly met his gaze before turning back out the window. “Enough to know you’re still grasping at straws.”

Enough to recognize that if this didn’t pan out, then nothing ever would.

“How is this even supposed to work?” You continued, folding your arms over your chest.

“It’s… complicated,” Sam replied, turning back around. He probably didn’t mean to be dismissive. Your arely asked questions anymore and if you did, there was never any follow up to their answers. Your eyes flicked up at him, but he had already turned back around.

Dean caught the way you were staring. “In a nutshell we’re going to go in there, shake up some magical laws, and hopefully rekindle his ashes into a flame that will guide him back to this plane. Presuming there’s anything even left of him there.”

Right. Not far fetched at all.

You rested your head against the cool glass, eyes focusing on nothing in particular as you murmured, “Good luck with that.”

…

They wouldn’t let you inside, at least not until after they worked whatever forbidden magic they needed. You assumed it was forbidden, anyway, considering breaking magical laws was part of the abridged version. It was just fine with you. You didn’t like this place. There was a power here, one that did not come from run of the mill supernatural sources. It buzzed along the grounds, stretching up through the frame of the car until it was skittering along your skin. It energized you in a way that left you unsettled, the sudden sensation a sharp contrast to the lifelessness that had plagued you.

You folded your arms over your chest, drawing your legs up onto the seat. You closed your eyes, hoping if you ignored it, eventually it would fade into the background. It didn't. If anything, it only grew the longer you were there.

They couldn’t tell you how long it would take. Waiting wasn’t normally an issue these days, but with that undercurrent of something running through the area, you found it difficult to do as you were asked. A part of you whispered in response, someplace deep and distant, reminding you that, at one point, you would have balked at their request to stay outside. Just a few years ago, they still would have been following you into that building, regardless of what they said.

This isn’t who you are it reminded.

You’d always known there was a difference between who you were and what you’d become. The question had always been, what were you supposed to do about it?

Wake up, it commanded. It’s time to wake up.

Your eyes snapped open, surprised to find the sun had disappeared, and you knew before you stepped out of the vehicle that something was off. The world was eerily still, silent, devoid of the usual chorus of nighttime insects or the smallest stir of air. The power from before had retreated, pulling back behind the walls of the hotel. The only sign of life came from within, a solitary light through a window on the far end, and the once foreboding structure became an eerie beacon that beckoned you in from the darkness.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt drawn to anything, and you felt yourself moving unaware through the darkness, the only thought on your mind finding that light. You felt your way through pitch-black halls, your cell phone and flashlight inexplicably dead. You had no idea where you were going, and yet you navigated your way through the dilapidated halls all the same, coming to stop at a set of double doors that had a small strip of brightness spilling out from beneath them.

The energy you’d felt before resurfaced, returning ten-fold. This time it didn’t just tingle over the surface, but you could feel it seeping into you, slipping inside your veins, urging your system to shake off the wintery sleep to which it had succumb.

You didn’t know what to make of it. You didn’t know what to make of anything as you pushed your way inside. Your friends stood on the fringes of a circle, a mass of complicated symbols adorning the entire area within it. Glass lay strewn across the floor, every window blown out across the the room. The light you had seen came from a ring of flames that was half the size of the original circle, in the center of which stood a man you’d never seen before.

He stood next to a metal basin filled with a mixture of burning embers and fire. Every flame in the room jumped higher as he turned, and the whole world shifted as your gazes locked.

“Hey, sweetheart, welcome to the party,” he gestured around him, flashing you a devastating smile. “I take it you are the damsel in distress I was brought back to save?”

He took a step toward you and your breath froze. His eyes flared to life in a bright burst of color you hadn’t seen in years. It reminded you of Autumn before it was touched by the first frost, the hues warm and bright with the golden echoes of summer.

You had never seen anything as breathtaking or as beautiful as his eyes were in that very moment, the only spark of vibrance in a world you’d given up as withered and dead.

“You all right?” He continued to move toward you, his brow arching slightly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Each step he took sparked more embers within the ashes. The radiance in his eyes spread, illuminating his face, slowly seeping up through his hair, down the front of him until he almost looked surreal, saturated with the sunny tones that had been absent all these years.

“I know I can be somewhat of a vision,” he teased, an overconfident air overtaking him. “But remember, you can’t appreciate all this,” he made a wide circle around his face, “If you don’t remember to breathe.”

That didn’t become an issue until he took another step and the beginning of wings sprouted out from behind him. They were folded in behind his back, arching high above his shoulders. The tops of them were white, though the rest remained hidden behind whatever continued to cloud the rest of your vision.

He stopped, having reached the edge of the fire that continued to flicker with the same washed out colors, his eyes narrowing as he took a closer look at you. “Have we met before?”

You wondered the same thing, a familiarity resonating along his presence as it swept over you, though it was just as loud as the foreignness that responded inside your mind. You missed the look Sam and Dean exchanged and the way Cas began to watch your interactions far more closely, unable to tear your gaze away from the only color you had seen in years, afraid that if you did, it might somehow disappear again.

You swallowed, taking an uncertain step forward, wondering if it was him or the distance that determined how much you saw. More of him emerged, white feathers melding halfway down into a tawny color, and as you continued toward him you found that the tips of his feathers had those same, flame-licked hues the rest of him did.

You never heard the shouts of warning from the others as your steps carried you over the edge of the warding. Gabriel’s smile faltered, though amber brightened, taking on an ethereal quality as you continued forward. Inch by inch, more of his wings emerged, and by the time you reached the second trap your friends had laid, you could see his span from tip to tip.

The world around you remained flat, however, though none of that mattered now. All that did was this mystery man in front of you and the sensations he was creating with his presence alone.

The holy oil flickered out and the world around you faded to darkness, save the warm burn of the embers in the bowl at his feet. His wings retained an otherworldly glow, that left him illuminated with that same summery aura that kissed his vessel’s natural features.

“Tell me you feel that.” He stared at you, the nonchalant persona fading as sobriety overtook all smugness you had seen. A quiet plea ran beneath his words, tugging at your heart, getting it to beat once more with purpose. He took your face between his hands, his touch so careful and gentle despite the raw power you could feel beneath it. “Tell me it’s not just me.”

Tears sprung into your eyes and a small sob released, born more of overwhelming relief and inexplicable joy that sang through you because you did. You felt, on a level you were unaware of, other than that terrible emptiness existed. It was completely beyond your understanding, amazing, and so many other things that if anyone ever asked, the only explanation you could give was you knew. With every fiber of your being. Beyond all reasonable doubt. You knew, and you finally felt the fog beginning to lift as life breathed back into you.

You reached for him, drawing his face down to yours so you could rest your forehead against his. That simple contact gave you everything you needed, everything you’d given up for lost, and for the first time in years, your lips raised in a genuine smile.

The electricity suddenly surged to life, the bulbs burning so brightly they threatened to burst beneath the extra energy pouring through them. You could already see it the way the light filtered through your eyelids, and when you opened your eyes the world was the breathtaking spectrum of colors it had always been before that awful day.

He brushed away your tears with his thumbs, handling you with more tenderness and care than anyone ever had before. The truth became startlingly clear, the final pieces of the puzzle falling into place. It was him. It had always been him, and now that he was back, it was finally over.

“What is he doing?” Dean demanded, though the sheer look of happiness on your face prevented him from intervening as you and Gabriel continued to stand there, holding each other.

Cas smiled, watching the connection that flowed between you and his brother as the archangel folded his wings protectively around you. “He’s helping.”

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @sumara62 @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met @blondecoffeecake @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @the-moose-of-baskerville @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai @christinalibertymikaelson @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @greieba @deaths-maiden @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester

Gabe Squad:

@theblackenedsky @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @pepperwoodatnight @lacqueluster @samikitten @a-vast-african-plain @kazosa @carryon-wayward-winchester @nobodys-baby-now @dlb1999 @ludwigs-a-monster @archangelgabriellives @a-wing-and-a-pen @tricksterxangel @onlyanothersocialcasualty

#Emma’s Christmas Birthday Challenge #Gabriel x Reader #Soulmates #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #Rabbit writes

635 notes · View notes

thorne93 · 7 years

Text

Missed Connection

Prompt: Imagine you and Bucky having a thing for each other, but every time you get close to starting something, it’s cut short...

Word Count: 2154

Warnings: maybe language?

Note: For @girl-next-door-writes birthday/christmas challenge! I had to combine them for you, sweetie. I hope that’s okay and I hope you liked it! Song was: Build Me Up Buttercup by The Foundations. Beta’d by the ever perfect @like-a-bag-of-potatoes bcuz she’s a bawss like that.

Forever Tags: @capsmuscles @cocosierra94 @essie1876 @magpiegirl80 @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @harleyquinnandscarletwitch @iamwarrenspeace @marvel-imagines-yes-please @superwholocked527 @myparadise1982sand @missinstantgratification @thejemersoninferno @rda1989 @marvelloushamilton @munlis @thefridgeismybestie @bubblyanarocks3 @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @hardcollectionworldtrash @igiveupicantthinkofausername @kaliforniacoastalteens @feelmyroarrrr @kaeling

Bucky Barnes: @nedthegay @lostinspace33 @alwayshave-faith @elleatrixlestrange @ultrarebelheart @lenawiinchester @its-not-a-tulpa

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Being great at many things had its advantages. For instance, being head of IT for the Avengers was a grand plus, surpassing Natasha, and at times, even Tony. Or being the fastest on the team right behind Cap, that was pretty good too. But something you were bad at, was hiding your romantic feelings. Especially when James Buchanan Barnes was in the room.

Meeting Bucky was a crazy moment in your life, seeing as when you met, he was being shot at as you tried to help Steve defend his friend. But after the ability to get the brainwashing out of his head, he was on the team. And thus began a beautiful friendship between you two.

He was funny, sarcastic, kind, compassionate, and protective. Why wouldn’t you be head over heels for the guy? Every mission he impressed you. Every time you hung out he made you laugh and smile like no one ever had. Every time you trained together, he was patient and kind. So, maybe you had a crush on him, or it was mildly interested, or madly in love. All you knew, was when he was around, you had trouble keeping eye contact and you blushed so much you could feel it heat up the space around you.

Thankfully, he seemed to have mutual feelings for you. He flirted a little, touched you often, and lately he’d been trying to ask you out, but to that, you were oblivious.

He’d tried once during mid-morning as you grabbed a snack before running to the gym.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hey, Buck,” you greeted with a wide grin.

“Going running, huh?” he asked politely as you grabbed an apple and a snack pack of peanut butter.

“Yep. Wanna come?” you wondered.

“I was actually wondering if you’d want to go--”

“Y/N!” Tony called loudly as he sauntered into the kitchen. “Need your help.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll be right there,” you said sweetly before turning back to him. “Did you wanna ask me something?”

“Uh..Nah. It can wait. Go on,” he encouraged, the thunder draining from him.

That was the first try.

The second time was right as Steve called an emergency mission. He didn’t even get to pose the question. As soon as he saw you in your room, reading, he was about to walk in when Steve shouted for you two to haul ass with gear to the jet. Bucky clenched his jaw tight, wanting to bitch his friend out, but he knew it was futile. Another time, he was going to ask if you wanted to go to lunch as soon as he saw you, but you and Wanda were laughing as you were heading out to go shopping, so he stopped.

Finally, he got to ask you out. You were in your lab, working, editing the code in Tony’s suits, when he walked in, spit out what he wanted to ask, and you said yes. Problem was, later that night, you accidentally stood him up. Alone at the restaurant, he was worried you’d changed your mind or just knowingly blew him off. Instead, the American government needed your help to stop someone from trying to hack the CIA infrastructure.

The next day you apologized profusely, and he knew you were telling the truth because Nat and Tony had accompanied you to the mission, but it still hurt that he went all out getting dressed well for you, shaving, picking a restaurant…

He swallowed the loss and you asked for a rain check. The two of you scheduled again for lunch in a week’s time. But best laid plans....

Yet again, you were needed. You were thirty minutes late to meeting him at the elevators so you two could walk to the restaurant together, but you’d been needed for an outside contract not related to Avengers. He didn’t know this until he texted you and you replied, stating you’d have to cancel again.

Although it was more than frustrating, he knew you weren’t doing it on purpose. In a way, not getting to see you on a date was making him want you more and more. Building up the suspense to when he could finally see you in date attire, hold your hand, kiss you…

Finally, one date happened, and it was beyond either of your expectations. The two of you knew you had chemistry, had a good vibe, but on a date, it blew you away how happy you seemed to make each other. Elevating from best friends to this romantic plane had been one of the best decisions either of you had ever made.

But the thrill didn’t get to last long, as you two couldn’t find time for another date. Bucky would ask but you’d either already have something planned, or get pulled away again. Life seemed to be incredibly hectic for you lately. So the two of you just had that first date to hold on to, to remind you of the magical spark between you. Being old fashioned, you couldn’t see yourself dating Buck inside the Avengers compound. You needed real dates, a place away from work and home to get to know him, to know each other.

That was a little over a month ago since the first date, both of you slightly frustrated, but willing and patient to wait for the right time to have a traditional date.

But now everyone was running around for Christmas goods and goodies. Everyone bought their own decorations for their room, and Tony had the main living parts of the compound decorated. The team was going out getting gifts every now and again, Bucky with you. The two of you holding hands, but nothing more, still taking things slow. You could hardly call Christmas shopping a date.

If you weren’t shopping, you were wrapping, going overboard, as you did every year. A bad habit of yours was buying and buying and buying gifts, simply because you didn’t know when to stop. You didn’t know when enough was enough for Christmas.

Not to mention, you helped Tony with a million Christmas cards for him, the team, and any families. Next, Tony had asked for assistance in planning a huge Christmas party, which was a lot of work and yet another thing to keep you and Buck apart. Finally, Wanda and you went to work on getting the Christmas meal menu set up, buying the groceries for all the dishes you’d listed.

Now, it was Christmas Eve, or to you, your birthday. With all the hustle and bustle for the following day, your birthday was always outshined by Baby Jesus. But your birthday didn’t matter. Tomorrow was the big day and you had a turkey to brine, green beans to simmer, and cookies to bake. Vision helped in the kitchen as best he could. Wanda and you shuffled about in the kitchen all day, trying to get things prepared, as the rest of the team brought all their presents to sit under the giant tree, something you’d have to remember to do later. The pile of presents actually started to stack higher than the tree as Steve and Sam arranged the presents in a nice fashion.

Tony’s gifts would probably be the most expensive, no doubt. Nat’s would be the most touching, seeing as she has ears on everything. It would be a gift you wanted that you didn’t expect to get. Sam’s would be functional, but something you need and happy to have. Vision’s would be whatever you had outright told him to get you. Bucky’s would be sentimental. Steve’s would be something to make you feel good. Wanda’s would be completely frivolous. But all of them would be wonderful.

The only problem was, you wanted a birthday gift. Just one. From anyone, really. If one person remembered your birthday in this chaos, it would mean the world to you. Last year, Steve had remembered it and he got you something small, but no one else on the team seemed to know. His efforts were amazing though. All you wanted was maybe a cupcake. Maybe five minutes to forget about Santa, gifts, candy canes, stockings, and trees and just focus on you and your time on this Earth.

You wouldn’t pout or cry if it didn’t happen. If it didn’t, you’d understand, but if it did, you’d be overjoyed.

“I’m going to go shower while those bake, yeah?” Wanda said as she brushed her forehead of sweat, wiping her hands on the flour covered apron.

You nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on them,” you promised as you stood at the kitchen island, reading the recipe for the next dish to prepare.

“Thanks. You’re the best,” she said as she beamed at you before walking past you.

You smiled at her before turning back to the recipe book, about to turn and go find the ingredients you needed when you heard a familiar voice.

“Why do you build me up, buttercup?” Bucky asked as he leaned against the island looking at you.

A smile pulled at the edges of your lips.

“What?” you asked as you looked up at him.

“You build me up, all the time, just to let me down,” he remarked, a faux sorrowful look on his face.

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Well, we went on one date, before that you stood me up I don’t know how many times...And now, I can’t get one more date out of you,” he informed, giving you a slight shrug. “So what is it? Is it the hair?” he asked, pointing to to his dark locks.

You laughed. “No, Buck, your hair is perfect,” you assured, working on the recipe.

“Oh,” he said as you walked between him and the counter. “So then it’s my clothes,” he noted, pulling at his sweater.

You shook your head. “No, all of your clothes are perfectly fine.”

He stood with his hand resting on his chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “Ah! It’s the accent. You don’t like that I’m from Brooklyn.”

You threw your head back at his absurdity. “No! I swear. It’s not you. It’s me. I’ve just been crazy busy and now with Christmas and--”

“And your birthday?” he suddenly asked in very serious tone, a 180 from how he was just acting. It made you stop in your tracks.

“You...You know it’s my birthday?” you asked quietly in disbelief, your eyes lifting up to his, a tear pricking your eye.

“Of course. I remembered from last year. I also remembered that everyone here was an ass and didn’t get you anything,” he stated as he pulled out a present, one side wrapped with Christmas paper, the other side with birthday paper.

A laugh escaped you as happy tears rolled down your face.

“Oh my god, wow...Bucky, this is great. Thank you,” you said, setting the gift on the counter and leaning in to hug him tightly. He gripped you back for a long moment before you heard a voice.

“So we just gonna watch them or are we gonna do her birthday?” Sam asked.

The two of you pulled apart and you saw the entire team standing before you, a gift in everyone’s hand, save for Steve who was holding a cake with lit candles.

“Oh my god,” you said as you nearly squealed. Your eyes flashed between Bucky and the rest of the team. “Did you do this?” you asked, excited beyond comprehension.

He nodded. “I wanted to be sure everyone remembered. When I told them, everyone immediately jumped at the idea of a mini-surprise party.”

You held your hands to your chest. “This is too much! You all....” You couldn’t finish the thought.

“You better go blow out the candles, birthday girl,” Bucky encouraged, running a gentle hand across your back.

Nodding and smiling you hurried over to everyone, thought quickly of a wish, and blew out the candles. Everyone cheered as Steve sat down the cake, while the others busied themselves with getting the cake cut, and grabbing plates and utensils.

Bucky re-emerged from beside you. “Hope this is okay. Sorry we couldn’t do more…” he offered, seemingly feeling guilty.

“Buck, this is perfect. I wouldn’t want it any other way,” you assured, gazing at him with a whole new layer of adoration.

“So what’d you wish for?” he wondered.

You pulled him close to you, lingering for a second, before placing your lips on his, a sweet, earnest kiss blossoming between you two. Your first kiss...and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed.

“That,” you breathed after you pulled away, resting your heads on each other’s.

“Hey, love birds, come over here and open presents,” Steve teased, waving you two over to the table with cake and gifts.

You walked over, hand in hand, relishing that this was the best birthday you’d ever had, by far.

#missed connection #Emma’s Christmas Birthday Challenge #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader

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iwillbeinmynest · 7 years

Text

Counting the Years - Eomer x Reader

Authors Notes: This is for my sweet Emma’s birthday challenge!! @girl-next-door-writes For you my wonderful Steve!

Prompt: “Life is too short to be lived counting the years.”

Word count: 2.5 K

Notes/Warnings: Fluff, tears, implications of husband and wife time ( but nothing graphic or outrageous), mentions of drinking (be of legal age kids) and if you look really really hard, angst.

Éomer had planned a month long journey, for just the two of you, to a cabin far from the royal halls of Rohan. The ride hadn’t been too taxing and the snow had waited until your arrival to fall. Your horse and Éomer’s had traveled swiftly and you’d made it to the cabin in just a matter of days.

The weeks following had been bliss. There was a peace in that cabin that you couldn’t get in the great wooden halls and it was with a heavy heart that you packed your things and prepared for the cold journey home.

After three days of riding you could see the glimmer of flames from Rohan in the navy blue of night. The full moon guided you and your horses and you were thankful that you were almost home.

Éomer slowed his horse to keep pace with yours. “Did you enjoy your time?” He asked.

You tugged on your heavy fur, making sure it covered your shoulders, and smiled at him. “It was perfect, love. Thank you.”

“You don’t look happy.” He observed with a slight smirk.

You looked ahead and sighed. “We just get so busy here at home. The cabin was so nice, just you and I, no distractions or town gatherings. No small talk with men who need showers or women who want to bed you.”

Éomer scoffed.

“Don’t pretend you don’t notice how heavily they bat their eyelashes at you, love. Those women are probably hoping I got lost out here and you’d return home with a broken heart for them to mend.” You rolled your eyes at how dramatic you were being, but there was truth behind your words.

“I know of whom you speak but those women mean nothing to me.” He guided his horse impossibly close to yours so that he could reach out and take your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing your wedding band.

“I know, but that doesn’t make it any more enjoyable to witness.” You smiled and squeezed his hand before letting go and returning to your reigns.

“You will feel better when you have a warm bath. The cold ones of the cabin are enough to spoil any mood.” He chuckled.

“My mood isn’t spoiled.” You defended yourself with a grin. You knew perfectly well that a warm bath would be perfect, right now.

“Good.” He tossed a side eye to you and his hands gripped his reigns a little tighter.

You caught the subtle movement and before he could say anything you kicked your horse into a gallop, leaving your husband in bellowing laughs behind you.

You were grateful to wake in your own bed. You palmed the furs above and beneath you, blindly discerning the differences between beasts. Deer, Bear, Warg. All cleaned and providing warmth on this wintry morning.

You opened your eyes with a few blinks and turned your head to the closed window, little tufts of snow slipped through the narrow cracks of the shutters. Light flowed through the same slots and you rolled to your stomach reaching an arm out to find your husband. Only he wasn’t there.

You pushed yourself up and scanned the room. “Éomer?” Your voice soft from sleep. A knock on the door had you pulling the furs up high to cover your chest.

“My Lady?” You recognized the quiet voice of your hand maiden, Rhema, on the other side of your door.

“Come in.” You called.

She came in and closed the door quickly with a smile. “I am so glad for your safe return, Lady (Y/N). I trust your trip was pleasant?”

You grinned at the memories of fire warmed evenings with your husband. “Yes, quite.” You reached your hand out. “Though I did miss you. Tell me, where is my husband this morning?”

She stumbled over a rug but regained her composure quickly. “He’s asked me to have you bathed and your hair braided. He wouldn’t say anything more.” She took your hand, grabbing your robe from the end of the bed and giving it to you. She squeezed your hand and said, “Happy birthday, Lady (Y/N).”

You smiled but your mind was lost of the mystery of your husband. Still, you didn’t argue her and followed Rhema to the steaming bath she had prepared for you.

She allowed you to be leisurely in your soak and she sat and spoke of the goings-on that you’d missed during your holiday. Nothing of importance, thankfully. The people had been, for the most part civil in your absence, but still you couldn’t understand where Éomer had gone off to.

Usually, he lingered with you in the morning light, rubbing his fingers along the bare skin of your arms. Kissing your forehead tenderly and whispering sweet reassurances of his love for you. He’d do that until there was a strong banging on the door by a guard or servant who needed his attention. Then, he’d begrudgingly slide from the sheets and ready himself for the day.

Rhema helped you from the bath and back into your robe. You sat at your vanity and closed your eyes as she brushed and braided your hair. About halfway through, there was another knock on your bedroom door.

“I’ll be right back.” She smiled. It was the kind of smile that said she knew exactly what was going on.

“Rhema?” You said slowly and suspiciously but she hurried of before answering you.

She opened the door slighty, making sure no one could see in, or was it to keep you from seeing out? She pulled a large package from the other side of the door, smiled to it’s deliverer and shut the door. She whirled around with a beaming smile and placed the ribboned box on your bed.

“What’s that?” You asked.

Rhema bit her lips in a weak attempt to stifle her grin, before answering with, “Hold still, M’Lady.” She turned your head forward to continue to work on your hair. “You’ll see later.“

The next twenty minutes were agonizing. Rhema talked on and on about some trivial family gathering that had happened recently, while you were left staring at the box on your bed in the mirrors reflection. But you didn’t ask again and you didn’t interrupt her. Instead, you tried your best to let your mind wander back to the memories of the last month.

“All finished.” She finally announced. “Would you like to see what’s on the bed?”

“Yes, please.” You said as nonchalantly as you could while admiring the beautiful work she’d done on your hair. You rose from your seat and made your way to the foot of the bed. You pulled on the ribbon and removed the top from the box with a gasp.

“Happy Birthday!” Rhema giggled with a small and excited bounce.

You were stunned. The gown was beautiful and almost too extravagant. “Oh, right. My birthday.” Between the absence of Éomer this morning, and the surprise package, you’d forgotten.

“Aren’t you pleased, M’Lady?” Rhema’s smile faltered and you quickly plastered on one of your own.

“It’s beautiful.” You took her in a hug. “Thank you.” When you pulled away, you were happy to see here smile had returned in it’s fullest.

“I’m so glad you like it! It was made special for today.”

“And what is today?” You raised a brow at her.

Without missing a beat, she looked down, busing herself with cleaning up the wrapping and simply said, “Your birthday, of course.”

You could still see the secret hiding at the corners of her mouth but decided that you’d better leave it be. She was stubborn and not one to give in easily, there was no sense is trying to pry it out of her.

She helped you dawn the beautiful gown and pick out earrings and a necklace to match. “You’re simply stunning.” She complimented.

You didn’t say it out loud but you agreed. Though, perhaps too stunning. “This seems like too much. It’s just one day, and I haven’t even planned a party or a dinner.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that.” She smirked.

Before you could ask her anything there was a knock at you door.

“My, at the amount of visitors you’ve had today.” Rhema tried to keep from smiling. “I wonder who that could be.”

She rushed to the door and opened it, revealing Éomer, dressed in burgundy and gold, his hair falling into his face.

He grinned at the sight of you but waited for Rhema to curtsy and leave the two of you alone.

“You look…” He smiled and crossed the room taking you in. “Beautiful.” He took your chin for a soft kiss and whispered, “Happy birthday.” against your lips.

You pulled back and crossed your arms playfully . “And where have you been?”

“I’m a busy man.” He smiled.

“Are you?” You narrowed your eyes as he pulled you towards the door.

“Mhmm.” He paused with his hand on the knob. “Happy Birthday, (Y/N).”

“That again.” You rolled your eyes.

He didn’t entertain your pout and opened the door leading you to the great hall. As the two of you got nearer, you could hear hushed voices, the crackling of fire and the clanking of metal cups.

A servant caught sight of the two of you and ran into the hall. Hushes were shortly heard before the hallway fell silent.

“What have you done?” You tilted your head to one side and tried to resist his tug. He spun around and was behind you, pushing you to the great hall, before you could protest.

When you rounded the corner you froze in his grasp.

“SURPRISE!!” The crowd cheered.

Your hand flew your mouth and your eyes watered. Among the crowd were many of your dearest friends. Aragron had come accompanied by Faramir and Legolas. Thorin had come in his furs and crown with his nephews and Dwalin beside him, their dwarvish beards all grey or white. The White wizard stood with a smile as he rested on on his staff and you saw a small spark flutter in the shape of a butterfly towards you before it disappeared.

Éomer wrapped his hands around you and you felt his short beard tickle your ears. “Happy Birthday, my love.”

“You did all of this?” Your eyes shed tears when you whipped around to face him.

“Why do you think I took you out to the cabin for a month only to arrive home in the dead of night? Your guests arrived at different times. And what kind of surprise would it be if you knew they were here?” He grinned proudly.

You jumped up and kissed him hard, much to the crowds enjoyment. They cheered and raised glasses to you and your happiness. You pulled away and bushed under wet cheeks.

One by one your guest greeted you and wished you a happy birthday and even people you didn’t know, like a few elves who had come to protect Legolas and Aragorn. They were, of course, beautiful and elegant and you found yourself stealing glances at the beings whom you so rarely saw.

The rest of the day was spent in the hall eating laughing, drinking and then eating some more. By the time the moon was at its peak, your guests had mostly disappeared back to where they were staying or were passed out at the tables or on floors.

You’d made your way out to the front steps to bid farewell to a small group of elves who had decided to start their journey home. As they left the gates you felt Éomer tug you inside and out of the cold.

Once inside, he took your fur cape from you and held you close as he lead you back to your shared chambers.

You all but collapsed down on the bed and Éomer helped remove the ribbons and braids from your hair.

“Thank you for all of this.” You mumbled.

“You deserved it.” You could hear him smiling.

You sighed, louder than you meant to and Éomer lay down beside you. He pulled you close to him and you nuzzled your nose into his neck.

“What’s on your mind, love?” He asked with a kiss to the top of your head.

You shook your head and were thankful he couldn’t see your solemn expression. “Another year older.”

You felt him chuckle. “You are still young.”

“Not compared to the elves. I am closer to death than they are.”

“(Y/N), why is death on your mind?” His tone revealed concern and you looked up at him reassuringly.

“I’m not. It’s just the wine.”

He leaned down and gave you one of his heart stopping kisses, the kind you knew expressed his ldeepest love for you. “My love,” He cupped your face in his hands, shifting his weight to cradle your jaw. His hair fell over the both of you, like a curtain for your faces. “Life is too short to be lived counting the years. Cherish these days, go on adventures, live your life in such a way that you won’t have time to tell all of your exciting tales. Fret not over the end for we both know that might very well just be the beginning.” You nodded but that was all you had time to do before his mouth connected with yours again.

You knew he was right and you planned on doing just that.

And, oh, did you.

Forever Tags:

@heismyhunter @sgtbxckybxrnes @pickledmoon @whimsicalrebirth @marvel-lucy @thisisthelilith @james-bionic-barnes @thedreamingowl @poemwriter98@kimistry27 @annie-lujan @buckyandsebsinbin @lilasiannerd @gypsy-storm-15 @cassiopeiassky @earinafae @the-stuttering-kiwi @obsessedwithatwell @shortiiqt16 @shifutheshihtzu @elaacreditava @nikkitia7 @theonewithallthemilkshakes @gallifreyansass @storytellingwanderer @palaiasaurus64 @iamwarrenspeace @engineeringgirlcve @magnolia-wanders @carameldaemoncakes @canumoveyourseatup-no @melconnor2007 @movingonto-betterthings @bxckytrxsh @fantasticmiraclehologram @kapolisradomthoughts @iamwarrenspeace @melconnor2007 @yesiamdeliciouslycaffeinated @mcu-avengerrs @archy3001@mmauricee @barnesvogue @feelmyroarrrr @beyondbarnes @marvelous-avengers

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caffedrine · 2 years

Text

Master List of Summaries

When there's enough going on that I should organize it.

Ikemen Prince

Rio Ortiz Master List

Keith Howell Master List

Events

Act 4 Prologue

Gilbert - More Love with the Beast

Gilbert - First Birthday (Emma POV)

Gilbert - Two People on a Mellow Night

Gilbert - Public Persona

Gilbert - Private Persona

Gilbert - Merry Christmas ‘22

Gilbert - Bodyguard Prince

Gilbert - Challenge From the King of Trampling

Gilbert - 2nd Birthday (Emma) - An Unforgettable Day For You)

Nokto - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present

Silvio - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present

Chevalier - Beyond the Connection Between the Past and the Present

Chevalier - I Fell in Love with you that Day - Choose Your True Love

Chevalier - The Beauty Fulfils the Beast's Dream

Chevalier - My Fiance is a Child

Clavis - Rhodolite Horror Night

Clavis - I Fell in Love with you that day - Choose Your True Love

Kagari - The Beast's Love is Unstoppable

Matias - The Beast's Love is Unstoppable

Azel - The Beast's Love is Unstoppable

Azel vs Silvio - The Beast Wants to Lure the Rabbit

Matias - GW Happy Bag 2024

Matias - I Fell In Love With You That Day - Choose Your True Love

Alice in the Country of Hearts

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werepuppy-steve · 10 days

Text

☾ ao3 fics ☽ - registered users only

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🐾 constant, pleasure - E, 3k, complete dom/sub, daddy kink, face slapping, spit kink, babygirl steve

🐾 [ hiraeth; ] - series, WIP appalachian eddie, established relationship, eddie munson's extended family

🐾 silent spark - G, 4.1k, complete animal crossing au, pining, fireworks date, platonic hellcheer, aspec steve

🐾 there's comfort in the panic - G, 1.2k, complete panic attacks, established relationship, lex's spicy six spring fanworks challenge, hurt/comfort

🐾 she put her love down soft and sweet - E, 5.7k, complete modern au, dom/sub, aspec steve, transmasc steve, established relationship, daddy kink

🐾 it's the spirit of the season - T, 3.8k, complete established relationship, christmas fluff, crack treated seriously

🐾 they said it all comes down to you - T, 1.5k, complete demon eddie, sacrifice steve, soulmates

🐾 sugar sweet as dixie crystal - E, 4k, complete established relationship, high school sweethearts, transmasc steve, ace steve, daddy kink

🐾 a whole lifetime - E, 1.6k, complete rockstar eddie, older/married steddie, daddy kink, dom/sub, babygirl steve, birthday sex

🐾 i'll be yours if you'll be mine - E, 1.9k, complete hand kink, spit kink, daddy kink, secret relationship

🐾 gold-skinned eager baby - M, WIP series rewrite, childhood friends, secret relationship

☾ tumblr ficlets ☽

🐾 farmer steddie - light dom/sub, steddie dads, older steddie 🐾 tiny hands, little feet - teen dads au, no upside down, transmasc steve 🐾 birthday blues - established relationship, fluff, steve's birthday 🐾 the night before christmas - steddie dads, modern au, emma verse 🐾 one more night - modern au, er nurse steve, established relationship, injuries, hurt/comfort 🐾 if i ain't got you - fight/make up, slow dancing, fluff 🐾 promise you forever - appalachian eddie, established relationship, drunk dialing, fluff 🐾 hold you close - transmasc steve, established relationship, comfort, menstruation tw 🐾 eddie's bad day - fluff, comfort, established relationship 🐾 steve's bad day - fluff, comfort, established relationship 🐾 night shift - nurse steve, modern au, established relationship, light smut 🐾 it takes a village - teen dads au, good uncle wayne, microfic 🐾 can you hear that scratching - established relationship, vampire eddie, microfic

☾ my friends ☽

@hammity-hammer @yournowheregirl @corrodedcoughin @tboybuck @starrystevie

@flowercrowngods @dangerous-disposition @fireandgrimstone @starryeyedjanai @legitcookie

@matchingbatbites @corrodedbisexual @wewilllivehappilyandstrong @thefreakandthehair @steddieas-shegoes

@theheadlessphilosopher @stobinesque @sidekick-hero @patchworkgargoyle @vecnuthy

@sentient-trash @wormdebut @wynnyfryd @spectrum-spectre @steddie-island

☾ sideblogs ☽

🐾 doctor who - @rtd-who

🐾 oceanography - @deep-deep-blue

🐾 ac odyssey/ancient greece/mythology - @axhiiles

🐾 pokemon - @lycanruff

dividers & banners by: me updated: 9/18/24

#cj talks #baby's first graphic set!!!!!#as always please let me know if links are broken

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jupiters-galaxy · 2 years

Note

could i have draken hcs? just like.. fluffy general ones for him 😭😭😭 he is keeping me alive rn fr /j

SO glad you asked!! I tbh have had Draken on the brain all day so here!! Take some hcs!!

-Absolutely loves MCR. When Black Parade came out he was annoying as fuck and played it constantly. (Luckily for him Mitsuya loves them too! Everyone else kind of wants to punch the two of them.)

-He loves hikes. LOVES THEM. He likes connecting with nature :) Since he lives in the middle of the city it can be hard to get out hiking a lot, so every year for his birthday one of his moms will MAKE SURE that either they or Mikey or Mitsuya will take him on a hike and camping trip! It's an affordable present, and dude, he loves it. It's a big bonding experience, too, because when Draken is happy and relaxed he really opens up!

-Baji and Draken race their bikes around the city all the time, they're so annoying about it.

-Idk if you know this but canonically, Pah-Chin is the only person better at arm wrestling than Draken! I like to imagine Draken would challenge him to rematches CONSTANTLY, but they were banned from arm wrestling after one too many vases and lamps were accidentally broken due to their exploits.

-Sometimes Emma paints his nails. He secretly likes it but only allows black or clear polish because "those are the manly ones!"

-He really likes Akkun because he tries to take care of Takemichi whenever possible! One time, he let Akkun trim his hair, which made him like, SO happy! Draken pretended like it wasn't a big deal but it made him really happy too. He's big on encouraging Akkun to drop the gang scene and work towards his dream; he likes Akkun's heart and spirit, and he doesn't want to see him ruined by gangs.

-He absolutely loves ramen noodles and this is fully because Nahoya(Smiley) and Souya(Angry) cook noodles all the time and Draken never has a hot meal waiting for him, so he tags along a lot!!

-Okok I've talked about this before but I fully fully believe he plucks flowers from other people's lawns and leaves them on Emma's doorstep before running away. He's not ready to confess yet but every time she sees the flowers she's bright and happy, which makes it worth it!!

-Tbh. I think he's very asexual. Idk he just rings the bells!! Maybe I'm projecting but I think it fits in!! Tbh I think his asexuality would impact and muddle his romantic attraction, and maybe that's why he waited so long to realize his feelings for Emma!

-He's not really close to most of his moms; they're all a little immature and hard to handle sometimes! But like...there's one mom in particular who he's closer to. And like, she's still not super maternal, but she tries really hard to be motherly!! Like she tries her hardest to buy him small things he likes, she helps him with his schoolwork, she even mended his toman uniform once when it ripped!! And he mega appreciates it. He'll chill in her room when she doesn't have clients, and he confides in her how he feels about Emma, asking for advice and stuff! Just...he's a teenage boy. He has a maternal figure who lives for listening to his awkward teenage boy rants. And he's always respectful and thankful for her because he knows she's had a hard life, and he appreciates everything he gets from her! Emotional and present-wise!

(for reference in my mind it's her :) she just seemed so soft and cute!!!)

-Finally, the reason Draken likes repairing bikes so much is because one year for Christmas, his moms all pitched in to buy him a bike. But the only thing they could afford was a second-hand bike with some serious issues. But, you know Draken. He's mature and hardworking, even though he's just a kid. So instead of complaining and sulking, he hauled his bike to Shinichiro's bike shop and begged for help revamping it. He, of course, agreed! So he'd spend his free time with Shinichiro, learning EVERYTHING about bike repair, how to drive bikes, everything. Eventually, he just really liked doing it!

After Shinichiro died, Draken kept repairing bikes as a way of remembering him. After all, Shinichiro was an important dude to him!

Anyways :) Draken :) He :)

#draken #ken ryuguji #ryuguji ken #tokyo revengers hcs #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers #draken fluff #draken hcs #draken headcanons #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev headcanons #headcanons

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earnestly-endlessly · 3 years

Note

Hi! I'm wondering if you can make a list of fics where Erik's jewish heritage isn't ignored? I just came across the fact that a lot of authors don't explore this part of him for some reason and i found it kinda upsetting so i'm wondering if you have any recs! I liked "As They Kiss, Consume" and "Who Shall be King Hereafter" by sherwoodfox, in case anyone who's reading this ask is interested in the same topic.

Hi Anon. I'm sorry for taking so long with this list but your request sent me on a wide search for fics that fit with your request. I tried to find a variety of fics where Erik's Jewish heritage is addressed. Some of them aren't necessarily cherik, but most of them are. I hope you enjoy this list.

Mistletoe, Latkes, and Long-Term Revenge Strategies – pocky_slash

Summary: Charles knows that Erik hates working at a department store in the best of times. Being Jewish in a department store during the holiday season is far from the best of times. He does what he can to help.

A Nice Boy (the Family Matters Edition) – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik's not sure whether the problem is that he doesn't want his parents to meet Charles or that he doesn't want Charles to meet his parents. Either way, he never invites Charles to brunch. Why should he? It's not like they're dating.

A Road Trip to Pennsylvania – Aainiouu

Summary: For a year Charles has nurtured the biggest and most embarrassing crush known to man towards Erik. They are friends and roommates and when Erik asks Charles to accompany him to home on Thanksgiving of course Charles goes.

In the Bleak Midwinter – keire_ke

Summary: It is not easy to find out, well into the second decade of the twenty-first century, that your mother arranged a marriage for you. It is even less easy to convince her that you have no interest in the very fertile Magda, she of the wide hips and lustrous auburn hair. Fortunately, with a good friend at his side over the holiday weekend, Erik is sure he will prevail.

Speech Making – phalangine

Summary: Modern Emma AU- Charles Xavier, accomplished matchmaker and headmaster of North America’s preeminent school for mutants, intends to add another notch to his belt: setting up his friend Moira. His oldest friend, Erik, has doubts about this plan.

Charles doesn’t share them.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

Summary: Edie Lehnsherr came into Charles' life long before he ever heard Erik Lehnsherr's name, and her death left a gaping hole in the lives of everyone in Charles' family. As the first Purim without her approaches, he begins to get creative in his efforts to bring everyone out of their grief. Kitchen creativity, however, is not quite his strength....

Bashert – AvengingAngel

Summary: Erik and Charles meet and fall in love. I wanted to write a story where Erik had a huge family. Pretty fluffy (for me anyways). I suck at summaries.

Note: The summary doesn’t reveal much but if you’re looking for a fic where Erik is jewish and has a large family with a heavy dose of cherik fluff and angst then this one is for you.

Math Reasons – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: "Mom says Erik always knows what he wants, it just sometimes takes him a little while to actually realize it," Ruth said.

Charles fell in love with Erik the first night they met, the first week of freshman year. Two years of friendship, adventures, arguments, hijinks, secrets, and summer visits later, Erik is starting to catch up.

Ser

It’s kind of our whole things – pearl_o, pocky_slash

Summary: After two years of best friendship, Charles and Erik thought they knew everything there was to know about each other. They're surprised, then, when their first summer as a couple reveals that they have a lot to learn about each other and themselves.

Sequel to Math Reasons

A Winter in New York – nextraordinaire

Summary: Charles and Erik have been childhood friends for as long as they can remember – Erik, living with his mother in Queens, and Charles in the big mansion in Westchester. For all, expect themselves, it was just natural progression that they'd end up together.

A series of ficlets from the same universe – can be read as separate and are out of chronological order.

Baby, It’s Cold Outside – heyjupiter

Summary: "It's just, this is my first Chanukah away from my parents. And it's--it's like 90 degrees out."

Erik Lehnsherr and Kitty Pryde celebrate a Genoshan Chanukah. It's a little different from the way it used to be in New York, but some unexpected visitors help them embrace the spirit of the holiday season.

Hold Back the Rain (front!strict mashup) – euphorbic

Summary: Charles Xavier: society darling, powerful political activist, well-known professor, and Dominant.

Erik Lehnsherr: anti-social, international motorcycle racer, and defiant submissive.

Erik is at Sepang in Malaysia for the fourteenth leg of the International World Championship. After doing poorly in qualifying, he's furious to find he has to take another VIP around the track instead of meeting Charles at the KL airport.

The Swan – waitfornight

Summary: In 1939 Erik and his sister Ruth are sent to Devonshire, England, during the Kindertransport refugee program to live with Kurt and Sharon Marko as foster children just before the start of World War II. Angry and wishing he could return home on the night of his seventeenth birthday, Erik meets a boy alone in the forest who is cursed to transform each day into a swan, only taking his true form by night.

Swan Lake AU.

The boy with the heart on his sleeve – euphorbic

Summary: Charles loses a high-stakes bet to Raven and is required to get a tattoo. However, when he makes a disparaging remark about the art form, Raven's acerbic mentor, Erik, steps in.

Or, the one where Erik and Raven are tattoo artists.

The Wurst Case Scenario – sareyen

Summary:If anyone asked why Charles, come rain, wind or shine, made the significant trek during his dismal lunch hour to dine at "Edie's Kosher Delicatessen", he would stubbornly say that it was because their pastrami on rye and potato knishes were absolutely to die for. He wasn't completely lying, because the deli's namesake, Edie Lehnsherr, made the best matzah ball soup Charles has ever had in his life. Still, Charles would rather shave his full head of hair off than admit that the real reason he would willingly walk through hail and fire to get to the corner deli was because of Erik, the insanely attractive man working the counter.

Sure, Erik has barely spoken two words to Charles other than "Hello, what can I get you?" or, after the third day in a row that Charles came to the deli, "Welcome back, what can I get you?", but Charles was more than happy to just ogle at the man from afar while devouring the juicy wurst Erik had put together with his (large and very capable) hands.

But, little does Charles know, Erik doesn't usually work the front counter. He only does it when he knows the cute blue-eyed man will be dining in.

This is life (and everything’s all right) – pocky_slash

c'est regarder ensemble dans la même direction – melonbutterfly

Summary: Since that day on the beach, Charles and Erik have learned to agree to disagree for the sake of living and working together. Then, for Christmas, and Charles gives Erik Hanukkah back a second time, and their relationship shifts a little further.

Terrible Hanukkah Sweaters and Other Life Challenges – professor

Summary: “Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Shrapnel – librata

Summary: It's late 1940, and tensions between the Axis and the Allies are tightening. Displaced and alone, 16-year-old German Jew Erik Lehnsherr finds himself employed as a servant by some snobby, terrible family in England whose house is far too big and whose money never seems to end. The worst part is, he isn't just mucking stables or cleaning plates–-he's tasked with tending to the whiny, disabled son named Charles, who might just drive Erik into absolute madness.

Or, the World War II fic in which Erik and Charles experience a changing world and a lot of teen angst.

Defying Expectations – Baamon5evr

Summary: Charles and Erik meet each other’s family. Neither of them gets what they expect.

table for three – pocky_slash

Summary: Erik should have known to call ahead to the Chinese restaurant--it's Christmas Eve and he lives in a predominantly Jewish neighborhood, after all. But before he can go home to mourn the loss of another one of his mother's yearly traditions, he's accosted by a teenage girl with a strange proposition--that he should stay and have dinner with her and her mother, instead.

different from all other nights – metonymy

Summary: "This year we are slaves; next year we will be free." Kitty and Erik host a seder for Passover at the Xavier School.

Libertad – ariadnes_string

Summary: Erik knew the look, had seen it his whole life, even before the war. ”You, with your height and blue eyes and straight nose, you can pass. You can be free of us. You are not marked with your difference.” If you only knew, he’d thought then. He thought the same thing now. And it was that thought, as much as anything, that made him move towards the gate.

Wash Away – sebastian2017

Summary: One quiet, lonely morning, before Yom Kippur, Erik makes his way to the sea in search of forgiveness.

After? There is No ‘After’ – Unrepentant_Marvelist

Summary: Erik knows what he is for. He has known his responsibilities as a survivor since the moment he woke under a scratchy, lice-infested blanket in the Red Army hospital. His world is painted in lucid blacks and whites (so often splashed in red) and there is no room for uncertainty or indecision... until a certain sunburned Englishman throws himself into his world.

The Children of an Idle Brain – Margo_Kim

Summary: Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Schmidt can’t hurt him. It’s like there’s a room inside of Erik’s head that’s he’s usually locked out of, that won’t open no matter if he beats himself bloody against it. On those days, he endures. But sometimes—and Erik doesn’t know why, whether it’s that the stars align or some higher power takes pity or Erik screams loud enough to earn his reward—the door opens. Erik can duck inside and slam it behind him and watches himself through the windows as Schmidt slowly, methodically tortures him to strength.

These days, this past week, there’s a boy in the room with him and he tells Erik, “That’s horrible,” like that means something.

Somehow, across the world, Erik's and Charles' minds touch when they need each other most. They can't be sure that the other boy is real. They suspect that he is not. But that doesn't mean they aren't each other's lifeline until they lose each other and then for a while longer.

Tehillim – kvikindi

Summary: Erik, in Israel, afterwards: another life he could have had. If.

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) – childishinquiry

Summary: Erik has worn long sleeves his whole life, even before they had to wear yellow stars. Marching along his arm, in neat, black, English letters, are the words "My name's Charles Xavier."

Precious Few Years – sherwoodfox

Summary: Erik and Charles (known only to each other by the letters inscribed on their wrists) are meant to be together, soulmates, destined for the most powerful kind of love and connection a human being can experience.

But they are separated in almost every possible way- by distance, by circumstance, by language, by war. Their chances of success- of finding one another in the labyrinth of the world- are very slim. There is a reason why most people never find their soulmates.

But of course, Charles and Erik aren't ordinary children-

They have their gifts.

#cherik #cherik fic recs #fic recs #Erik is Jewish #holocaust #asks #earnestly answers

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ravenadottir · 4 years

Text

❝lucas koh❞

lucas koh, 27, oxford, physiotherapist

lucas was drop dead gorgeous, and since the first time i saw him, it was over for me. his route was filled with so much thrill, emotion and intensity, i couldn’t skip on writing for him.

from villa injustices we should’ve get some apologies for, to the life he has outside of the show, i wanted to bring a full story for him.

and his characters is just so goddamn full of surprises all the time! he can be a posh boy, but still care about the important things like love, friendship, values that most of the boys and girls don’t even talk about.

problematic? yes. but that’s a major factor that makes him so interesting and intriguing, his arc and motivations change throughout the game, and that just goes to show how real and amazing he is! (yes, i’m a simp. nothing to do here!)

‘if it wasn’t for you’ villa and pos-villa lucas’ perspectives, and yours, involving some of the most important happenings after ‘stick or switch’. it was important for the context to include these moments. after you win the first prize and leave the show, the decision has been made. you’ll move in together, in his apartment. lucas will have several facets, and this story will explore his relationship with his parents, his past in uni, his life with you as a couple, and more.

title: lucas’ tale has had many titles already, and none of them really clicked! “posh”, “the right choice”, “power over me” and now this one, that i really think it will fit perfectly. it comes from a very specific passage in one of the chapters, but i can’t spoil it.

chapters

|one |two | three

original charcters’ sheets

anally koh / robert koh / emma

one shots

early domestic life

’confessions’ |pt1 |pt2

‘the same’ (”enemies to lovers”)

edits

teen / outfits

anon submission: shirtless lucas

headcanons

quarantine / general / general II

not fluffy / marriage / christmas

his dirty preferences

on a trip / college / his bikes / pet peeves

lucas + introvert girl

how is he with social media? / most attentive boy

another non fluffy post / 10 years later

reaction: freaky text challenge / lucas’ character sheet

friends-to-lovers: lucas edition

casa amor: the jealousy

valentine’s day / veiny

if lucas didn’t bring blake back

more relationship!lucas

lucas x marisol x mc

general: lucas in the villa I

general: lucas in the villa II

alphabets

fluffy / non fluffy

guides/tips

guide to his route / more tips

how to guarantee rocco picks you

sweet!mc x lucas

writing lucas

asks/posts

his regret towards blake

if hope stole the money after winning with him

was he afraid of bobby’s connection with mc?

if his ex came in the villa

lucas and mc meeting after the show ends

lucas doesn’t want kids / gary x lucas

when would i place his birthday(s) being aries and leo

if “the one that got away” came into the villa

disaster recoupling

was lucas genuinely interested in mc?

bringing blake back was ooc

why i focused on his crush on hope on his fic

route: if hope was his second li

if he found out noah made a pass on mc

lucas x goth!girl / bachelor party

lucas x hope / his reaction to noah’s pass

anon: “he gives me christian grey vibes”

the dialogue about the recoupling, by the bean bags

their dynamics if seb was on s2

lucas x blake exit interview

where did the ‘big daddy’ come from?

lucas x dylan (s4)

he and henrik wouldn’t be friends if it wasn’t for the villa

lucas x the villa’s size

#litg lucas #litg masterlist #litg #litg s2 #litg season 2 #love island the game #love island the game season 2 #fusebox #fusebox games #lucas x mc #if it wasn't for you #annally koh #robert koh

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hallmark-movie-fanatics · 3 years

Text

Hallmark Channel - New Year New Movies

The Perfect Pairing

Air date: Saturday, January 1, 9/8c Stars: Nazneen Contractor, Brennan Elliott

Influential and anonymous food and wine critic Christina finds herself at a winery she panned in the past. She hopes to leave before anyone finds out who she is, but she instead slips on ice and hits her head. The Hollingbrook family, led by single father Michael graciously takes Christina in while she recovers and tries to jog her memory. In the process, Christina helps the Hollingbrooks prepare for their annual wine tapping party, which includes Michael’s risky passion project, ice wine.

Wedding Veil (working title)

Air date: Saturday, January 8, 9/8c Stars: Lacey Chabert, Kevin McGarry, Autumn Reeser, Alison Sweeney

The first installment of an enchanting new trilogy starring three of Hallmark’s most beloved leading ladies as longtime college friends who discover a mysterious, antique veil fabled to unite its bearer with her true love. After discovering a long-lost painting, museum curator Avery and successful, new board member Peter investigate the artwork’s origins as they plan a charity fundraiser to unveil its restoration.

Love Is Trending

Air date: Saturday, January 15, 9/8c Stars: Jen Lilley, Christopher Russell

Mackenzie Sullivan is a New York-based marketing executive struggling to keep her clients. When she returns home to a rural maple farm to help her best friend plan her wedding in just two weeks, Mackenzie learns the hard way that the love and support of family and true friends means more than she’d imagined.

Butlers in Love

Air date: Saturday, January 22, 9/8c Stars: Stacey Farber, Corey Cott, Maxwell Caulfield

In a prestigious butler academy, passionate Emma and rebellious Henry train to become royal butlers where the competition is fierce and sparks fly.

Romancing the Birthday Girl

Air date: Saturday, January 29, 9/8c Stars: Emilie Ullerup, Clayton James

On her birthday, Taylor opens a time capsule left by her deceased mother, which contains six envelopes. In each one is a challenge to complete, challenges that her mother – aware of Taylor’s many anxieties that hold her back – knew would expand her horizons and give her the push she needs in life and to help open her mind, and heart, to the possibility of love.

Hallmark Movies & Mysteries

North to Home (working title)

Air date: Sunday, January 9, 10/9c Stars: Lyndsy Fonseca, Kimberley Sustad, Erica Durance, Barbara Niven

Suzanne McBride is excited to spend her birthday with her family. It will be the first time that her three adopted daughters will be together in years. This seems like a great time for a family reunion, but the sisters are each wrestling with unique challenges that threaten to derail this special occasion. Will their bond be strong enough to survive this time together?

Plus a new Aurora Teagarden Mysteries: Haunted by Murder coming in February.

#news #hallmark movies #hallmark channel #new year new movies #hallmark movies & mysteries #link

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enchanted--roses · 3 years

Photo

Hi everyone, I wanted to do a little something this summer for the OC community and for fun. Since I am now at my own condo and finally done moving and doing boxes (mostly still have one or two to boxes in my office), and have a little bit of free time while watching Criminals Minds and Leverage (when it’s going to be on TV this week here in Canada), I thought it was time to do a giveaway.

I was thinking at first to do something like I did for Christmas but then I decide to add a little something, I saw so many amazing OCs being made and as many crazy crossovers that I said to myself I wanted to do that. .

I’m still working at my job, so during the day I don’t have that much free time, so only one OC per person please or one crossover if you choose that (but if you want something for your OC and a crossover it’s totally fine).

I will be doing crackship gifs (around 5 or 6 per person) in what I called my style 2 or manip (like comiccon or official public appearance and if I found a good quality pictures a scene from the show or movie) and/or moodboard (like any of the one i did for the summer challenge)(if you choose this i will need information on your OC), and maybe there will be some surprise along the way if you enter.

I will be using the tags malice1329summergiveaway and summergiveaway2021, if you wanna track it or blacklist it, either way it’s totally fine

Rules

submit to my inbox! (no asks please, it’s easier to use the form)

must be following me (since when doesn’t matter)

reblog this post (it will help get more views)

I reserve the right to refuse any requests

Like already mentioned, one request per person please!

I won’t probably refuse it but please, if possible, to send FCs who have resources to use. (Meaning actors and actresses, singers that do both can be sent.)

Deadline to Apply is July 23, 11:59 EST

I have a small list of celebrities that I won’t accept to work with them:

Amber Heard

Ansel Elgort (i don’t think we know if what was said about him is true or not)

James Franco

Emma Roberts

Sylvester Stalone

Dylan Sprouse

Ed Westwick

Priyanka Chopra

Mark Salling

Camila Cabello

Ian Somerhalder

Lea Michele

Armie Hammer

Gif Examples: X. X. X.

Manip Examples: X. X. X.

Moodboard Examples: X. X. X.

REQUEST FORM (Standard): Please Submit!

OC Name:

Faceclaim:

Fandom:

Gif or Manip or Moodboard:

Manip (if chosen precise if you want official appearance or comic-con):

Relationship(s):

Faceclaim(s):

If moodboard (write the hobbies, like, Link to Pinterest (if any)):

Name/Username (if not for you):

REQUEST FORM (Crossover): Please Submit!

OC Name:

Faceclaim:

Fandom:

My Oc:

Relationship (what kind you want) :

If you have an idea of what you want for the relation:

You can also ask for a gift for somebody else, just tell me who you want to suprise!

i will try to post the giveaway during the week of my birthday August 16th until the end of that week and probably on queue.

Forever Tag: 💠@fiercefray 💠 @eddysocs 💠 @wokenhardies 💠@ochub 💠@ocappreciationtag 💠 @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch (wanna be on any of my taglist? ask me!)

#allaboutocs #ocappreciation #malice1329summergiveaway #summergiveaway2021

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searchingwardrobes · 4 years

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The Christmas Wish: 1/4

Merry Christmas, @snowbellewells ! You have become such a sweet friend to me, so I wanted to gift you with something this holiday season. Since we were talking about Hallmark Christmas movies the other day, I thought the perfect gift would be writing you a Captain Swan version of one! I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful Christmas with your family.

Many thanks to @kmomof4 for being my beta when I know this week is busy with your family. Thank you so much, my dear friend!

This has four parts and one chapter will be posted each day this week, with the last one posting on Christmas Eve. It is loosely based on a Hallmark movie starring Jessie Schram, funny enough, called The Birthday Wish. This fic is set in 3b, but sticking to canon didn’t work at all with what I wanted to do, so it ended up being canon divergent. I think the only canon part that remains is Zelena. There’s no Rumple, no Neal, no cursed lips, no time travel. Yeah, I know, not much canon left, haha. Let’s just say this is more character driven . . . .

Summary: Emma leaned forward, closed her eyes, and a wish bubbled up unbidden from the depths of her heart. "I wish I could just have a simple, domestic life. Is that even in the cards for me?" Breath left her on an exhale just as the wish floated through her mind, and the candle blew out. The "answer" to her wish had to be some kind of trick, however. After all, it wasn’t as if anything in the vision she received could ever in a million years be real. It was ridiculous. Captain Hook, the father of three driving a minivan? Impossible.

Rated G for Hallmark movie levels of fluff and Christmas feels

Also on Ao3

Tagging the usuals: @teamhook @xhookswenchx @bethacaciakay @whimsicallyenchantedrose @welllpthisishappening @optomisticgirl @hookedonapirate @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @spartanguard @let-it-raines @tiganasummertree @vvbooklady1256 @scientificapricot @superchocovian @sherlockianwhovian @ohmakemeahercules @hollyethecurious @ultraluckycatnd @jrob64 @wellhellotragic @winterbythesea @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @carpedzem @thesschesthair @resident-of-storybrooke @cutieodonoghue @justbecauseyoubelievesomething @juliakaze @thisonesatellite @therealstartraveller776 @thislassishooked @profdanglaisstuff @killian-whump

Chapter One: The Vision

“Mom, come on! It’s already started!”

Emma hadn’t seen her son this excited since they left New York. Henry was standing in the open door of their room at Granny’s, shifting with nervous excitement from one foot to the other. Emma was on her hands and knees with her head halfway under the bed. Where the hell had her other boot gotten to? It couldn’t have just disappeared. Then again, this was Storybrooke . . .

“Everything alright, lass?”

The sound of Hook’s voice made Emma jerk backwards and smack her head against the bed frame. She scowled at the pirate who was now standing at Henry’s side as she sat up on her knees rubbing the lump that was rising on her head.

“Where’d you come from?” she muttered as she rose to her feet. A dust bunny tumbled from her messy hair, tickling her nose and making her sneeze.

“Sorry,” Hook apologized with a slight smirk that made her think he wasn’t all that sorry.

“I can’t find my damn boot,” Emma snapped at him, almost as if it were his fault.

“Want me to help you look, love?”

“Mo-om,” Henry whined.

“Actually,” Emma replied, pushing her hair out of her face with one hand so she could look at the pair in her doorway - one on the cusp of adolescence and the other looking far more handsome than he had a right to in those ridiculous pirate clothes. Anyone else would look like they were headed to a tacky Halloween party. “Could you take Henry down to the Christmas carnival?”

“I thought we were going together!” Henry exclaimed.

Mom guilt slammed into her at his crestfallen expression. Between figuring out this new curse and trying to stay one step ahead of this wicked witch (Wicked Witch of the West? Seriously?), Emma knew she had neglected time with Henry. It was so different from what he had been used to in the life they had built in New York, and she hated letting him down. Not to mention that at twelve, Henry wouldn’t be wanting to hang out with her for too much longer, and she was missing it.

“I’ll be right down. It’s gotta be around here somewhere.” She really needed to buy an extra pair of boots, but frugal habits born of so many years on the streets didn’t go away easily.

“I’ll guard him with my life if necessary,” Hook swore to her solemnly.

Henry rolled his eyes. “First off, I’m twelve, not two. Second, it’s a Christmas carnival. What’s going to happen? I get hit in the head with a candy cane?”

Hook just arched a brow at her, and she shook her head ruefully. Little did Henry know. Sometimes his lack of memories stabbed her with even more feelings of guilt. She waved him off.

“I know, I know. Just get down there and teach Killian how to overdose on Christmas sugar.”

“Will do,” he told her joyfully as he shot off towards the stairs, Killian hurrying after him.

Emma collapsed onto the bed for a minute once they were gone. She’d told her mom

that having a Christmas carnival on Main Street was a bad idea with the Wicked Witch still out there. On the other hand, she had yanked Henry out of school, dragged him away from his friends and the life he had known, and brought him to this bizarro town. Now he was having to celebrate Christmas here, too. They didn’t have a tree or the Christmas decorations they had bought together last year. They hadn’t made cookies and hot chocolate for their annual viewing of Home Alone. Of course, technically, it was only annual in memories that weren’t real, but that was beside the point. The point was she was now ruining her son’s Christmas too. Ever since he heard about the Christmas Carnival, he’d set aside his Nintendo DS and his cell phone for the longest span of time since they’d arrived here.

Emma got up and resumed her search for that elusive right boot. She finally found it wedged beside the TV, hidden by the window curtains. She yanked both boots on, then turned to glance at her reflection in the mirror. She frowned at her tangled hair and grabbed a brush. Once her golden hair was glistening and smooth, she grabbed her lipstick and reapplied it. It wasn’t until she was touching up her mascara that she scowled at herself in the mirror.

Who exactly are you primping for, Emma?

She refused to answer her own subconscious as she tossed the mascara angrily onto the vanity. It bounced and slid into the sink, but she just left it there and marched out the door.

The Christmas Carnival was literally on her doorstep, filling the street in both directions from Granny’s patio. A choir of children from the elementary school stood on a stage near the post office belting out Christmas carols, led by someone who looked a lot like Mary Poppins (she probably was Mary Poppins, Emma thought with a chuckle). Leroy and some of the other dwarves had gathered around a booth where you were supposed to toss as many bean bags as you could into the mouth of a giant wooden snowman. Merry Men cheered and laughed as they took turns trying to pop balloons in a dart game. There were plenty of other typical carnival games: ring tosses, coin drops, wheel spinners, and one of those “go fish” games where kids tossed a clothes pin at the end of a string over a blanket and one of the nuns from the convent attached a bag of Christmas candy. There were also merchants with booths selling all sorts of handmade Christmas gifts, and food booths offering everything from hot chocolate to corn dogs to cotton candy.

She found Killian and Henry fairly quickly. They had found David at the strong man game. She chuckled to see her father spitting on his hands and rubbing them together before lifting a mallet and slamming it down. A bell went flying up, ringing loudly and impressively as it almost reached the top of the strong man game. With a smirk, her father offered the mallet to Killian. Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t look away as Killian took off his coat. He really needed to go without that long coat more often, she liked the figure he cut in those tight leather pants -

“Are you kidding me?”

Emma jumped at the sound of her mother’s voice. She turned to see Mary Margaret shaking her head as she watched the men.

“That is just unfair,” she continued. “I know your father is wary of Hook’s feelings towards you, but to challenge him to that game . . . “

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know . . . “

Emma crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her mother with a scathing look. “Know what?”

“He, um . . . well, that is, he only . . . “

“Only has one hand?”

“Well yeah.”

Emma arched a brow and gave her mother a smug grin. “I think Killian can handle himself.”

Right on cue, Hook swung the mallet with his good arm, and the bell flew up. It didn’t make it as far as her father’s swing, but it was still damn good. Emma smiled as she watched her father slap Killian on the back.

“Killian is it?” her mother asked pointedly.

Emma turned to take in her mother’s curious stare. She tightened her arms further around herself. “Uh, yeah, that’s his name. It’s the name we use around Henry, so you know . . . “

“Okay,” her mother teased, a smirk of her own teasing her lips. She changed the subject, however, by lifting a plate holding a cupcake into Emma’s line of sight. “Happy Birthday!”

Emma cocked her head. “Birthday?”

Her mother sighed. “I know it was almost two months ago. Yet one more moment I missed. I wanted to make it up to you.”

“It’s okay, really.” Emma took the plate and looked at the cupcake. It was chocolate with white icing and blue sprinkles. “It’s not really Christmas-y. Where did you get it?”

“A cupcakery opened along with the new curse. Felicity’s.”

“Is that her real name?”

“It is.”

Emma snorted loudly. “Cute.”

Mary Margaret grinned. “I know.” She threaded her arm through Emma’s and steered her towards a group of picnic tables set up beneath some fairy lights. Emma let her mother pull her to the table and sat down with the cupcake between them. Mary Margaret pulled something out of her pocket with a proud smile. “Felicity even gave me a candle and some matches!”

“Really?” Emma asked with raised brows as her mother stuck the candle into the cupcake. It was sparkling blue with a star on top.

“Mhm,” her mother said, “I told her it was for you and how I missed your birthday, and she wanted it to be special. The cupcake is special too, she said. It’s her Sugar Plum Fairy cupcake, and she was almost sold out. This was the last one.”

Emma spun the cake around, eyeing it. She had obviously been in town way too long if she was suspicious of an innocuous cupcake. The woman owned a cupcakery, for heaven’s sake! She had to sell the damn things. And what better way to drum up business than to pay extra special attention to Snow White? Emma let out a breath as she told herself to just relax and enjoy the cupcake. The bright pink and glittery decorations may not be her style, but it was chocolate, and you couldn’t go wrong with chocolate in Emma’s opinion.

Her mother lit the candle, her eyes sparkling as she sang “Happy Birthday.” Emma squirmed, never comfortable with such attention, praying no one else heard the song.

“Make a wish!” her mother exclaimed.

Emma bit her bottom lip as she suddenly remembered the last time she had made a wish on a cupcake. She had wished that she didn’t have to be alone on her birthday, and seconds later, Henry had knocked on her door.

So Emma leaned forward, closed her eyes, and a wish bubbled up unbidden from the depths of her heart. I wish I could just have a simple, domestic life. Is that even in the cards for me? Breath left her on an exhale just as the wish floated through her mind, and the candle blew out.

“Hey, where’d you get the cupcake?”

Emma opened her eyes to see Henry standing beside her. Behind him were her dad and Hook. Even as her son eyed her cupcake jealously, he shoved a forkful of funnel cake into his mouth. She chuckled.

“I didn’t buy it at the carnival,” Mary Margaret explained. “I bought it at a bakery specially for your mom.”

“Why?”

Her mother, who had the world’s worst poker face, went slack jawed and stammered as she looked at her daughter. Emma calmly removed the candle, licked the icing off, then started to peel away the wrapper before she answered her son.

“Because I helped her set up her baby registry the other day, and after two hours of agonizing over strollers, high chairs, and onesies, she owed me.”

It was only half a lie. Emma had helped her mom register at Storybrooke’s only baby store. Named, naturally, The Stork’s Nest. And it was also true that the experience had been torturous enough to earn her dozens of cupcakes.

She still wished she didn’t have to lie to her son - even half lies.

*******************************************

When Emma awoke the next morning to blurred surroundings, she wasn’t alarmed at first. It always took her a minute to fully awake and adjust her eyes to the morning light. But when she couldn’t see well enough to even find her phone on the nightstand, worry gripped her. She sat up abruptly in bed, trying to blink the sleep away. She squinted, and still all she could see was a white blur that she assumed was the sun streaming through the window and around it only blurry gray. She groped in the general vicinity of the nightstand, knocking over the lamp. She swore loudly as it crashed to the floor.

“Mom!” Henry shouted as he burst through the door.

Emma turned towards his voice, assuming that the moving brown blur in front of her was her son. “I’m . . . fine,” she lied, not wanting to alarm him. “Just go downstairs and ask Granny’s help to go get your gr - I mean, David.”

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

She pressed her lips together and took a sharp breath in through her nose. “Just go, Henry, okay?”

She heard him grumble something under his breath about how he wasn’t a little kid anymore, but she heard the door to their rooms open and close anyway. While he was gone, she rubbed at her eyes, then opened them again, but still she couldn't’ see a damn thing.

“Swan?” Hook’s alarmed voice cried out as he burst into the room.

“Killian?” She squinted at the big black blur in her doorway that she assumed was the man in question.

“I know you said to get David,” came Henry’s voice as a smaller brown blur joined the larger black one, “but I ran into Killian in the hall, and I know him better, so . . . “

“It’s okay, Henry, just give me and Killian a minute.”

“I want to know what’s going on!”

“I know, kid,” she said, her voice softening, “and I’ll explain in just a minute, I promise.”

Henry made no reply, at least none she could tell. She heard the door to her bedroom shut and sensed Hook drawing closer.

“What is it, love?”

“I can’t see,” she confessed softly, reaching out a hand for him.

“What?”

She could clearly hear the strained concern in his voice. Her hand found his, and she used him as leverage to stand up from the bed. He was closer than she had anticipated, and she awkwardly bumped against his chest.

“I mean, except for a light blur over there, and a dark blur I assume is you, I. Can’t. See.”

Emma thought ironically of those black frames with the clear lenses she had worn for

merely fashion reasons back when she was a teenager. They seemed incredibly stupid now.

“How long has this been going on?” Killian must have bent his head closer to hers because his breath was hot against her cheek.

“How long? I just woke up this way!”

“This must be some kind of sorcery, love. You don’t just lose your sight overnight.”

Do you? Emma wondered. She vaguely remembered some movie she had seen once where a woman woke up suddenly blind. It was probably a Lifetime movie, though, and she wouldn’t call those medically accurate by any stretch of the imagination. Nevertheless, she gripped Hooks arms tighter and shook her head.

“Maybe it’s magic, maybe not. Either way, get my phone, call my Dad, and ask him to drive me to the doctor, okay?”

“That will waste too much time. Maybe I could -”

“You can’t drive, and I don't’ think this warrants a 911 call.”

Did Storybrooke even have 911? She should look into that.

“As you wish,” was all Killian said, his voice solemn. The words took her back to a hot jungle, his lips on hers, and his hand tangled in her hair. She swallowed thickly as she pulled her hands away from him. He reached around her, and then she heard the familiar beeping sounds as he opened up her phone. She was glad she had given him that cell phone crash course the first time he’d watched Henry for her.

“And Killian?”

“Yes?”

“Can you explain this to Henry for me? Without freaking him out?”

“Of course.”

Then he brushed a kiss across her brow and swept from the room, leaving her flustered. He’d done it so swiftly, without hesitation, as if it were something he did everytime he told her goodbye. Maybe it had been unintentional?

Needless to say, it had been a weird morning.

*********************************************

“Is your sight coming back?” her father asked, unable to hide the fear in his voice as he drove through the streets of Storybrooke.

Emma squinted out the window of her dad’s truck. “That really bright blue to my right is the ocean I’m guessing?”

“That’s a no, then.”

A strained silence fell between them, but what could Emma say? She hated to worry him, but there was no denying this was really, really bad.

“You sure we shouldn’t go straight to Regina?”

“Not yet,” Emma told him, “let’s rule out a physical cause first.”

“I don’t know if that’s any better than a spell.”

“Believe me,” she muttered, “I know.”

“Your mom Googled it already -”

“That’s never good.”

“- and people with green eyes are at higher risk for eye cancer and macular degeneration.”

“Not helping, Dad.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, reaching for her hand and squeezing it. “It is good to hear you call me Dad again, though.”

Emma’s eyes blurred even further with her sudden tears. “Sorry I can only seem to say it in crisis situations.”

“Hey, all in good time. When you’re ready.”

He released her hand, and Emma resisted the urge to grab it again. She was so thankful to have him with her. How many times had she fantasized about parents who would take care of her when she was sick? Though she would have preferred something less dramatic than sudden blindness. A cold and some chicken soup, maybe.

“I know I’m not the best judge of this at the moment, but aren’t we going the wrong way?”

“I’m not taking you to Storybrooke General. An optometrist arrived with this second curse, and I think I trust whoever it is with my daughter’s eyes more than I trust a possibly drunk Dr. Frankenstein.”

Emma chuckled at the wry sound of her father’s voice. “I bet mom wishes an obstetrician came with this curse too.”

“You have no idea.”

Her father slowed the truck and made a right turn. He assisted her out of the vehicle, and she slipped her arm through his as he guided her to the door of the clinic. She felt him freeze suddenly beside her once the door swung closed behind them.

“You!” he exclaimed in a suspicious voice. “I know you! What the hell is going on? I thought you were a baker!”

“No,” another voice calmly replied, “that’s my sister Felicity. I’m Avery, the receptionist for Dr. Liv Lachesis, the optometrist. Which I should also explain -”

“Welcome,” a third voice spoke up, “how can I help you today?”

“Triplets?!” David exclaimed.

One of the women - Emma couldn’t tell which one - chuckled lightly. “Yes, triplets. It always throws people.”

“Well,” her father sighed, “I have a twin, so I can relate. We’re here for a bit of an emergency, though. My daughter woke up this morning unable to see.”

“That is an emergency. Emma, why don’t you come with me?”

“How do you know my name?” Emma asked suspiciously as the doctor gently touched her elbow.

“Everyone knows the Savior.”

Dr. Lachesis’ words were gentle and soothing as she guided Emma into the exam room and helped her sit.

“Now just lean back Emma, and try to keep your eyes open. I’m going to put these drops in. It may sting a little, but it shouldn’t hurt. Okay?”

Emma nodded her head. Even though the optometrist had a soothing bedside manner, she still felt her stomach knotting with nerves. Dr. Lachesis gently held Emma’s right eye open, squirted two drops of liquid in, then repeated the procedure with her left eye. Emma blinked, hoping to see more clearly. She panicked when instead of blurry splotches of light and dark, before her eyes was nothing but inky darkness.

“It’s going to be okay,” the doctor soothed, as if reading her thoughts. “Lean forward and look into my phoropter.”

Emma had no idea what that was, but she leaned forward anyway. The doctor guided her face forward, and Emma felt cool metal pressed against the skin around her eyes.

“What do you see?”

“Nothing.”

Emma heard a click while the doctor adjusted the machine’s settings.

“Look again.”

Dr. Lachesis’ voice was almost hypnotic, and Emma blinked once again. The black nothing before her faded, and she could once again see fuzzy splotches of color. The fuzzy splotches then cleared, and objects took shape before her. She was outside, dressed in a sweater, boots, and all the normal winter outerwear. Snow crunched beneath her feet and the air was crisp and cold against her cheeks. She blinked again, and tilting her head up saw that she was standing in front of a beautiful blue Victorian home with a welcoming porch, and a turret with windows nestled on one side. It reminded Emma of a doll house she had admired in a store window one Christmas as a child.

Emma then realized there were voices and laughter behind her, and she turned to see a man standing in front of the sliding door of a black minivan. He was bending over, buckling a toddler into a car seat. He straightened and turned towards her, and Emma froze in shock.

“Look, Graham, Mama’s got your shoes.”

Emma squeezed her eyes shut, wondering even more what kind of crazy contraption a phoropter was to make her see what she was seeing right now, but when she opened her eyes the scene hadn’t changed. Captain Hook was buckling a toddler into a minivan. What the hell?

His eyes sparkled with mirth and he was smiling in a way she had yet to see. He gestured with his hook towards her.

“Swan? The shoes?”

She looked down to see that she did indeed have a tiny pair of brown boots dangling from the tips of her fingers. As bizarre as the whole scenario was, she shuffled forward and handed Hook the shoes. He narrowed his eyes and studied her for a beat before turning back to the child before him. He chatted amiably with the child, making him giggle as he slipped the shoes on his feet and tied them deftly with one hand. Emma stared at the little boy of about three, cataloguing his features. He had the same shade of eyes Emma had - a cool, pale green. He had a little dimple in his plump chin, much like her and Snow. His hair was thick and black, curling over ears that pointed in an almost elf-like way. Emma felt her jaw drop as she looked from the child to Killian and back again.

“Mama?” Emma startled when a little girl popped up from behind the little boy. “Mama did Daddy really almost burn down Granny’s when he got you a Christmas tree?”

The little girl looked so much like Emma, it was downright eerie. Except she had bright blue eyes. Eyes that looked really familiar . . . but it couldn’t be!

Killian chuckled as he scratched behind his ear. “Well, in my defense, I was new to the entire concept of electricity.”

Wait a second - did this girl just refer to them - she and Hook - as Mama and Daddy? Then Emma took in Killian for the first time. He was wearing dark skinny jeans and a motorcycle jacket instead of his pirate garb, yet that wasn’t what really surprised her. What surprised her was the charcoal wool beanie on his head. Captain Hook wearing a beanie? Surely this was some sort of hallucination. Emma then glanced down at herself.

“What the hell am I wearing?”

“Wowds, Mama!” the toddler - Graham? - laughed, kicking his little feet.

“Mama, you have to wear the tree shirt to go get the tree,” the little girl added. “It’s ta-dition.”

“That’s tradition, Hope, now buckle up so we can get going,” Killian instructed.

Suddenly, a golden blur rushed past Emma, and she let out a surprised shout as a golden retriever jumped into the van.

“Sorry,” Killian apologized, “the kids begged to bring Nana along. I didn’t think it was a problem since the tree farm is outside.” He paused and tilted his head as he studied her. “Are you okay, love? I can drive if you want. I know your morning sickness still bothers you some.”

Then the strangest thing of all occurred when Killian Jones - Captain Hook himself, put a hand to her belly then brushed a kiss to her lips. It was the kind of quick, familiar kiss a couple shares when they’ve been together a long time. Emma looked down where his hand rested, and sure enough, her belly was swollen beneath her sweater. Her hideous red sweater covered in a garish Christmas tree with pom pom balls for ornaments. She swayed on her feet.

“Emma!” Killian cried in alarm, his arms going tighter around her.

Everything went blurry, again, then dark. Emma blinked her eyes, and suddenly she was back in the optometrist office looking through a metal contraption that must have been the phoropter. She jerked away and leapt up, her gaze darting wildly about the room. Well, at least she could fully see again.

“What kind of crap was that?” she yelled at Dr. Lachesis. “What kind of spell did you put on me?”

“It was my sister who cast the spell. I merely completed it.

“Completion is my area of expertise, sis,” Avery spoke up from the doorway.

“Okay,” the doctor sighed with a roll of her eyes, “I showed you the middle. It’s what you wished for, after all.”

“Emma,” David cried out as he pushed his way into the room, “are you okay? What did they do?”

Emma shook her head, unsure of how to even describe what had happened. Not to mention her father’s reaction if she told him she’d just seen herself knocked up with her third child with Hook of all people.

“Nothing, Dad,” she muttered, “let’s just get out of here.”

After all, it wasn’t as if anything in that vision could ever in a million years be real. It was ridiculous. Captain Hook the father of three driving a minivan? Impossible.

#cs ff #captain swan ff #christmas fluff #a captain swan hallmark christmas movie #for snowbellewells

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