#I’ve had this done for a while but the giftee is in town and I wanted to spend time with them oops

[iceskatingmobsters]

One Piece real????

[malachi-walker]

Happy birthday, Mal! I love your fics, they evoke so much emotion in me and have made me cry many a time. I don't often reread fics, but i've reread multiple chapters of Rhythm and Blues because they're stuck with me so much. You capture the emotional pain of their trauma and the catharsis that comes with their growth so beautifully. You also write some brilliant meta and just consistently post some fantastic thoughts. Also your love for swords is very appreciated. <3 have a lovely day!

First of all, my apologies for not replying sooner. I was making my mind up about something that would definitely require the use of a read more and thus necessitate dragging myself to desktop (which I hate because my laptop predates the dinosaurs.)

But seriously. Thank you so much. This is honestly one of the sweetest comments I've ever gotten and definitely made my already pretty sweet bday even better.

So about that read more. In honor of you, @metalesbo, my friends @n7punk and @jem-jarrett and everyone else who sent me well wishes or just really loves my work... Here's the opening section of the next chapter of R&B. Enjoy. It's a long one.

Adora Eternia is about two months shy of her fourteenth birthday when she first realizes she's in love with her best friend.

Though--if asked--she would hasten to explain that it wasn't when she fell in love. But trying to pinpoint the exact moment is an exercise in catching mist: the more she tries to grasp it in her hands the more it spreads out and covers everything. It just is: pure and simple and very, very complicated.

It's the beginning of December and the whole town is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Winterfest will be here in a few weeks, so to help out the kids who want to get gifts for their friends the Right Zone administration has shuffled around the groups that usually take their monthly trips on the third and fourth Sundays of the month to double up with the other two. As part of group three, she and Catra got the first week (the other three members of their crew are week two folks anyway and thus outside the reorganization.)

It's still kinda weird to think that: their crew. For so long, it was just Catra and Adora. Adora and Catra. One unit bound together, just them against the world. But there's also something nice about being part of a small cluster, their "scrappy little lone wolf pack" as Catra had once put it with a wry grin before Lonnie shoved her over with an, "Excuse you, I'm a great people person when I'm not busy making sure you idiots haven't set yourselves on fire!"

They all got a good laugh out of that one.

But regardless, the holidays are coming up and this is the first year that any of their group has felt like actually doing anything for it, aside from wrangling together a sleepover and seeing if they can convince the kitchen staff to slip them some leftover eggnog.

They made each other promise not to go too extravagant and keep each person's gift to ten dollars or lower. Even though their quarterly stipend has increased from three hundred to four hundred to match with inflation over the past eight years, it still isn't a whole lot for three month's worth of expenses, especially when they also have to budget regularly for clothes to keep up with the seemingly endless growth spurts.

There's also the usual budgetary concern of keeping her and Catra's first aid kit well supplied...

Adora shakes her head to dislodge the intrusive thought and continues marching onward through the snow. This trip is a good thing. She won't let all the awful realities of their life taint it.

With so many kids running around and wanting to shop on their own to surprise their giftees, Right Zone had to negotiate with both the local police and whatever other civic authorities they could get ahold of to come out en masse and keep an eye on them all. The kids had still come with their usual teachers, of course, but doubling the load and also splitting up was a logistical nightmare. Which is just a convoluted way to say the town is positively crawling with uniformed officers, off duty members of the fire brigade, emergency personnel, and other such authority figures quietly keeping watch and making sure no one tries anything.

Adora knows that somewhere in the press of bodies, Grizzlor's busy wrangling two new "brats" (seven and nine, respectively, and definitely not friends.) Somewhere, a certain Magicat is probably grumbling over the indignity of being forced to wear shoes and kicking every snowpile she can, like she can send a direct message to whatever cosmic force is responsible for her current frustration.

On an ordinary month she and Catra--being old enough to be allowed a bit more freedom to do what they want--would buddy up to watch each other's backs while they did their shopping. But this isn't an ordinary month, so once they'd each gotten gifts for the other three they'd split up on opposite ends of Main Street with an agreement to move clockwise to avoid running into each other. Afterwards, the entire group would rendezvous at the small clock tower in the park a block over before heading back to Right Zone.

Ten dollars wasn't a lot to work with, but Adora had done her best: a new stress ball for Kyle, some moisturizing oil for Rogelio since the early winter shed had wiped out his supply and he'd been too busy to pick up some more, a twelve pound kettle weight for Lonnie now that their shared exercise routine was getting a bit too easy for her... Utilitarian choices, to be sure, but she's been paying attention and that has to count for something.

Catra's the difficult one, of course. Partly because Adora doesn't want to just get her something practical, but also because they share nearly everything between them already. About the only thing that is definitively off limits is Catra's guitar, and she's told Adora enough about her time with Tao over the years that Adora wouldn't even ask. Beyond that... Well, there's a reason why most of Adora's day off hoodies have small strands of orange fur stuck to them.

Still. I want to get her something that's hers. Something she'll like. Something she doesn't have to share with anyone, not even me.

In the end, she nearly walks past it. In one of the artisanal shops that dot small towns like liver spots, she finds a display of hand stamped necklace pendants, with a design sheet beside it. There are a lot of the usual nature designs and such, but the one that catches her eye is a treble clef with the five staff lines bleeding out from it. They ring the edge of the pendant in a half circle, and scattered haphazardly along the lines are the other music notes.

The lack of proper order would drive Adora insane. She understands that it's just meant to look pretty, not be an accurate representation of musical notation, but still... She knows her own (broken) brain well enough to know that.

It suits Catra, though.

"Hey," Mismatched eyes looked down at Adora as her head draped backwards over the back of their desk chair, the throbbing behind her left eye threatening to escalate into a migraine. "Guess I don't have to ask how the composing's going."

"It sucks," Adora groused back, sitting up and gesturing Catra over. She jabbed at two particular spots with the half chewed off eraser end of her pencil, two hard jabs each, like she was filing a complaint. "Most of it is just what I'm going for, but these two places here... They aren't sounding right. I've been going back and forth over structure all afternoon, but nothing I do helps."

"Hmmm..." Catra stroked her chin and nudged Adora over so she could sit on the arm of the chair (they'd never gotten around to requesting a second, mostly because Adora didn't want to risk Shadow Weaver suspecting they were getting too chummy.) "Got any scratch paper?"

Adora pointed to the pile of half crumpled notebook paper she used when making adjustments and Catra snorted. "Ok, dumb question. Just let me see here..."

Grabbing a pen, she quickly inked a fresh set of staff lines and copied the notes Adora had already put down, making sure to leave space to work. Glancing between the two, she drummed her fingers on the desk, playing along in her head.

"Hmm..." Catra murmured, worrying at her lower lip with a fang in a manner that was... Oddly distracting. "Ok, how 'bout this?"

Adora jolted, tearing her gaze from Catra's face to look at the sequence of notes scribbled onto the scratch paper. She paused, brow furrowing as she played them over in her mind's eye. It was a little unorthodox, veering away from the path she had carefully laid out... But also blending well with the next part. Almost like the notes took a quick detour and then lead the listener back to where she wanted them.

"Yeah..." Adora replied thoughtfully, the tension all over her body starting to smooth out. "Yeah, that could work."

"Awesome. Let's take a look at the next part."

They ultimately ended up spending several hours going over the entire piece, sussing out every place where Adora was having even the slightest niggle of unease. She didn't accept all of Catra's changes and Catra didn't push the matter, but the ones she did...

They felt right. More right than they had ever felt when it was just Adora running circles around herself.

When they finally finished up she looked over at Catra, tail waving sedately in that way it got when she was simultaneously engaged but relaxed, and asked, "Umm... Do you want to learn with me? I like doing this."

'I like making music with you.'

Catra paused, looking over at Adora searchingly, almost like she couldn't believe the question had come up. No matter how many years had passed between them, that look never really went away, and every time she saw it Adora's chest ached in a way that was hard for her to process.

"I'd like that."

Catra's composing style is very different from Adora's. More wild, more willing to bend and break the rules if it means maintaining audience engagement, but there's always an underlying order to the chaos. To her surprise and pleasure, Adora found herself learning just as much from Catra as Catra was learning from her. Their styles brought out the best in each other.

The jingle of a bell kicks her out of the memory. Mind made up even though it's nearly double her budget, Adora scans the stand of necklaces for the one with the treble clef pattern.

It isn't there. Adora swallows down the disappointment, though she can't help the sigh. Of course. The town was well aware of the large population of music students a short drive away and catered to them accordingly. But there are also dozens of kids out on the street tonight. It isn't that big of a surprise that the design sold out.

Not surprising, but disheartening nonetheless.

She's just begun to turn away when a voice calls from the back. "Hang on a sec there, little miss."

Adora jumps, but remains where she is as a large Taurian man with a massive snow white beard trundles out from a door behind the counter, wiping his hands on his apron. "Was there a particular design you were interested in?"

Adora points at the treble clef, hope rising. "This one. But it looks like it's already sold out."

"Hmm..." The man scratchs at his chin. "Well with Winterfest coming up, I'm out of blank pendants-"

Adora's shoulders slump.

"-But," The man continues with a smile. "I can double stamp it onto the back of another. Ordinarily I'd charge extra for that, but it's my fault for not ordering enough blanks. Rookie move. Besides, it's the holidays. Now would that be all right by you?"

Nodding frantically in case he changes his mind, Adora scans the other designs, quickly alighting on one in particular. "That one!"

"The claw marks? Bit of an odd combination, but the customer is always right," The old man winked as he reached out to take the necklace from her. "My jig and press is in the corner over here if you wanna watch."

Adora was glad he specified, because as nice as the man seemed there was no way in hell she was going into a back room with a stranger. But she stood next to the window beside a display of miscellaneous knick knacks and puzzles, watching him carefully place the pendant in a cushioned stand to avoid damaging the already printed side and tighten it into place before moving beside the machine.

"You're gonna want to cover your ears," He tells her, patting the machine with one massive hand. "Had to switch to a steam press when the arthritis caught up to me. Used to do it all by hammer. This boy's okay, but he gets loud."

Adora nods, glad for the warning when he bellows "Clear!" and the machine's hammer comes down once, twice, three times with a sound like the ringing of an enormous bell. Once the machine is stopped and carefully turned off, the old man removes the pendant from the press and hands it over to Adora for inspection. "What do you think? Does it pass muster?"

Adora runs her fingertips over the impressions in the metal, memorizing the feel of it, the leftover warmth of the impact. "Perfect."

"Good. Now let's get you rung up."

Counting the five dollars she attempted to surreptitiously slip into the tip jar (the old man winked as he turned back around, so stealth fail) Adora went very over budget, but the others would have to put a gun to her head for her to admit it.

Besides, it's Catra. They already know she's the sole exception to all of Adora's carefully maintained rules.

With everything finished, she continues trudging through the snow toward the park, breathing a sign of relief as she moves away from the shopping district and the people thin out; no one wanting to go to the park in the middle of such bleak weather. Angling around a clustered group of bare trees, she spots the small clock tower in the distance, as well as the figure already standing beside it. Grinning, Adora picks up the pace a bit until she can see Catra clearly and--

Her breath catches.

Since her only experience with this kind of thing has been through books, Adora always expected this moment would be more dramatic. Like back to back in the middle of a fight, or eyes locking from up on stage. Something spectacular, like fireworks, lime explosions, like the feeling of playing a song without a single mistake for the first time. It's always seemed like such a big deal in the stories, and in a way, it is.

Because there's Catra, lost in her own world as she gazes up at the streetlight that's just come on, her left hand extended to let the snowflakes fall into her palm and the light catches the orange of her fur just right to make a blaze of color against the black of her coat. She looks so small, standing in that space all alone on a cold winter's night, but Adora knows deep down that she could never be that small, not when she's Catra, not when she means so much...

Pretty much everything about the past hour--about her entire life since they met if she's being honest--snaps into crystal clear focus.

Oh. I get it now. I'm in love with you.

It's a bad idea. Adora knows that. Shadow Weaver is enough of a menace while believing Catra is simply her roommate, her sometime tool--and Catra had ended up being all too right about the torture not stopping, even after years of Adora trying to direct Weaver's attentions away from her. If the evil old bitch figures out Adora's feelings run deeper, so much deeper...

Her heart beats double time. This whole thing is an unmitigated disaster.

But it's still the best worst thing that's ever happened to her.

She must make a noise, because Catra's ear twitches in her direction, snapping her out of that distant contemplation. She turns her head and looks at Adora, lips curling in a lopsided grin. "Hey, Adora. Wow, you look like you've seen a ghost."

Adora blinks, coming back to herself and mumbling the first excuse that springs to mind. "... Just cold."

"Well no shit. C'mere."

When she closes the distance Catra glances around warily, making sure they're the only ones around, before reaching up and retying the scarf around Adora's neck, patting it once when she's done. "There. I know I make it look good, but you don't have the advantage of fur like me."

Adora looks down at the thin AC/DC t-shirt that Catra's wearing beneath her half open coat, the line of her collarbones and neck, and makes a snap decision. "Is it okay if I give you your present now?"

Catra blinks, a little thrown by the non sequitur. "I mean... Sure? Do you want me to give you yours?"

"I'm good with either," Adora shrugs, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating, how much she wants to do this before this moment slips away. "I just want to."

There's a long moment of silence as they each examine the other, equally searching. What Catra's looking for, Adora doesn't know. She isn't sure she wants to know.

"Okay."

Breathing deep, Adora reaches into her pocket and pulls out the necklace on its leather cord. Careful to keep the pendant hidden in her hand, she passes it over, fingertips sparking as it's taken. Catra brings it close to her face, running her fingers over the four parallel slashes on the side facing her.

"Why the claw marks?"

Adora laughs, nervous butterflies positively rioting in her stomach. "Because you're a badass. Duh."

"True," Catra smirks, flipping it over and squinting at the other side. "And this?"

"Badass, loves music with all your heart. Not mutually exclusive concepts," Adora says, trying not to give away how much she thinks about this, how much she wants to take that hand in hers. She settles for a playful shoulder bump instead. "Plus we all know you're secretly a big softie."

"Excuse you, I am all sharp edges," Catra giggles, lightly elbowing her before transitioning into a soft little smile. "... Just not with everyone."

Oh God oh God oh God. That smile will absolutely be the death of her.

Swallowing past her horrible awareness of that softness, Adora asks, "So you like it?"

"I love it. Good luck ever getting me to take it off," Catra laughs, then frowns, flexing her fingers. "Hands have gone a little numb, though. Help me put it on?"

Adora.exe promptly crashes to desktop. But she still somehow manages to move, helping Catra hold back her mane so she can slip the leather cord over her head and tuck it beneath her hair. If she hesitates a moment too long in letting go, at least Catra only shoots her an amused glance. "How's it look?"

"Great," Adora manages to croak out, trying to swallow past the sudden dryness in her throat. "You look great. Umm... Happy early Winterfest, I guess?"

"Well, I'm gonna hold onto yours a little longer," Catra laughs, playfully sticking out her tongue before reaching out. "C'mere, you big dork."

Adora shuffles closer, mind and heart both screaming as Catra draws her into a hug, nuzzling her head against the side of her neck. A little whisper. "Thank you."

Adora swallows again, even harder. "You're welcome."

Between them, the necklace rests, the music side pressed right up against Catra's heart.

----------

Fun fact: the shopkeep is based off a cool old dude selling machine pressed necklaces I ran into at a Scottish festival when I was 13, and he made such an impression I never forgot him. Anyway, happy Valentine's! Have a Big Gay Realization!

[shes-an-oddbird]

Merry Christmas to my Fitzsimmons Secret Santa giftee @springmagpies​  ironically started working on my Christmas at River’s End Mall fic a couple of weeks before I received your fantastic prompt: working at the mall during the holidays! It was a fun coincidence and it was nice to work on this as a stand alone fic that could exist in the same universe as that story. 

I also wanted to make a moodboard to go with it since I’m so inspired by yours! I hope you enjoy it!

The Good & The Bad Of Seasonal Jobs 

Summary:  Leopold Fitz hates his seasonal job demoing the poorly made gadgets on the top of everyone's Christmas lists. Jemma Simmons loves her seasonal job wrapping those gifts. Together they make a a perfect team, even if they haven't officially met yet. Until Jemma is presented with a task that dampens her Christmas spirit and her and Fitz team up to get it back.

His expertise is being wasted.

Fitz is convinced they’ll be by to revoke his credentials any moment now.

If he sells one more shotty piece of home gadgetry with the promise that it will improve their customers everyday lives he might as well tear up his doctorate degree.

But he’s still short the cash he needs to get home for the holiday so here he is. Standing in a crowded mall, demoing cheaply made drones, remote control cars and robotic animals. Couldn’t one of these manufacturers create a monkey instead of the typical dog and cat? Are opposable thumbs that much of a challenge?

He knows the morning rush is starting to settle when he can hear the slightest jingling coming from the gift wrap kiosk across from him. A noise that would normally put him on edge has become a bright spot in his day. It came from the silver bell worn by the gift wrapper, Jemma, who worked the kiosk. She kept the bell tied around her neck on a long blue ribbon and with every move she made it rattled a cheery sound that added to the festive atmosphere in the mall.

He wasn’t much for Christmas cheer himself. He wasn’t a complete grinch, despite what Hunter might say, but if all of his income from the lab didn’t go straight to student loans, rent and food he definitely wouldn’t have bothered with the seasonal work at all.  

Every time his spirits started to fall though, he’d glance over at Jemma to find her glancing back at him. No matter if it was irate customers or screaming children or an upset manager, she was close enough to hear and observe and would shoot him a supportive smile.

They had yet to actually speak to each other but they had found other ways to communicate. One of the most in demand drones of the season utilized a camera and messaging system. She had taken to writing notes on scraps of wrapping paper that he could read through the drone camera and he was able to send back messages to her.

He would love to talk to her in person but the more and more he learned about her from their notes the more and more nerve racking that prospect became. She was brilliant. A double PHD. She worked for a lab he interviewed at a while back but had ended up recruited for a project at another lab across town. He almost regrets taking the project now, the one she was in the middle of sounds fascinating and he thinks they’d make a good team.

But then again, that would involve talking directly to her.

Which would happen, eventually.

It’s early afternoon, kids not yet out of school but late enough that mall walkers and nannies with young ones were heading home. This was the time when they usually found a chance to “chat.” He readies the drone to fly it over to her station but stops when he sees she’s got a customer. A well-dressed man, expensive suit and a pair of matching jewelry boxes in his hands. He spends a moment talking to her, a charismatic smile on his face. She’s not impressed if he’s flirting. She nods curtly back at him as she takes the boxes and he leaves.

Fitz watches her shoulders sag and her demeanor change as she examines the boxes before setting them aside and turning to fetch some paper. Her bell jingles and she stops in her tracks. She removes the necklace and tosses it aside before returning to the task.

Fitz doesn’t know what it was the man said or did to ruin her day but after she’d done so much to improve his bad moods, he felt like he should do something. He quickly packs up the drone and waves to his manager that he’s going on his break.

****

Jemma couldn’t imagine a better holiday job.

When Daisy had told her she could probably get her the open gift wrapper position at the mall she had jumped at the opportunity. It wasn’t exactly science, although Daisy claimed she’d made an art out of it. Just because she liked her patterns to precisely line up and her ribbons to match, it wasn’t that special.

She does love the look in her customers eyes when they pick up their presents.

She also loves the light in the customers’ eyes when they hand her their gifts to be wrapped and she just knows they had found the perfect thing for their loved one. Sometimes the gifts would come along with a story, the hours they waited in line, the dozens of stores visited, the didn’t-plan-on-it-but-I-saw-it-and-thought-of-them. She loved that. It made her want to wrap each gift with just as much love and care.

She thinks that might also be why she maintains her Christmas cheer while Fitz, who works at the shop across from her station, is so grumpy all the time. Poor Fitz. He gets the customers before she does. When they are frustrated from having been on their feet all day with the end not in sight. Their kids tugging and pulling and screaming and begging for this and that. And a manger breathing down his neck, pushing him to sell drones that she knows he thinks are poor quality and will inevitably break.

He’s an engineer, she found out one day when he was messaging her about the poor controls on the drone after apologizing three or four times for nearly hitting her with it.

The day is starting to quiet down for the afternoon lull. She’s caught up on all of her work and is gathering up scraps to write her notes to Fitz on when there is a tap on the wooden counter. She looks up to see a tall well-dressed man waiting for assistance. He’s got just two matching boxes in his hands so she thinks she can knock them out quickly and still have plenty of time to chat with Fitz before the afterschool rush hits.

“Yes, how can I help you today.”

He grins down at her with a charming smile and an unconvincing look of innocence in his eyes.

“Yes, you certainly can, I’ve got a sort of special task.” He places the identical jewelry boxes down between them. “You see this one here, is for my wife,” he slides the first box forward, “and this one,” he places his hand on the other box, “this one if for, well not my wife.” Jemma narrows her eyes in confusion, “so you understand it’s important not to mix them up right?”

Then it hits her and her stomach fills with dread. She looks at the boxes again. They’re branded on the side with the logo of the expensive jewelry shop down at the other end of the mall. “May I?” She asks, reaching out for them. She opens the first to reveal a pretty gold bracelet with a woman’s name engraved in cursive and three sparkling charms. She opens the second box to find a second bracelet, exactly the same except for the name. “Um, they’re lovely.”

“So we don’t have a problem here?” He asks.

Did they? Could she refuse service to this guy because he was cheating on his wife and possibly misleading some other poor woman? Its certainly what she’d like to do.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Perfect, I’ll be back for them this evening, dinner with the girlfriend first, then dinner with the wife.” He taps the counter again. “Do them up real nice for me.”

Jemma nods and collects the boxes. She moves them to the back worktable and starts to select a wrapping paper when the bell on her necklace jingles and she stops. Her bell was tradition. She wore it all through the holiday season thinking the gentle sound was a pleasant way to spread holiday cheer. But now, now it was like it was mocking her.

She takes the bell, pulls the ribbon over her head and tosses it aside.

Maybe it’s a side effect of her frustration or maybe it’s her desire to give the woman being two-timed something individually beautiful; whichever it is she wraps the two bracelets exquisitely. The paper is elegant, the ribbon satin and she even takes the time to add little decorations like pine bristles and bells. She carefully inscribes the cards for the top and gently tucks them under the ribbons before placing them with the rest of the gifts ready for pick up.

It’s exhausting. She has an overwhelming desire to close-up for the day or call out early so that she doesn’t have to be here when he comes back for them. Fitz isn’t even at his usual post, ready to make her laugh.

Someone clears their throat behind her and she spins around on her stool. Fitz is standing at the front counter, two to-go cups in his hands. She’s unsure how to proceed for a moment. Her and Fitz hadn’t actually spoken in person since they started their seasonal worker comradery.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He shifts back and forth unsure what to say either.

“Thirsty?” She asks, curious about the two cups. Maybe one for now and one for later?

“Oh, no, um one is for you, I hope hot chocolate is okay.” She feels a smile fight its way through her gloom. She can’t help it, hearing his voice for the first time is thrilling. He’s Scottish. Which she had learned from their messages, he was trying to earn money for the ticket home, but it still threw her off just a bit.

“Thanks, but why?” Why today, she really wants to ask.

“I don’t know, you’re always so positive and then that guy came by earlier and you looked upset, I just thought this might cheer you up.”

“Oh, thank you.” She except the cup and the warmth spreads through her chilly hands. She takes a sip and the warmth runs through the rest of her. She savors it for a moment then cringes. “Was is that obvious, that I was upset I mean, do you think he noticed?”

“I doubt it, seemed a bit self-absorbed to me.”

“He’s horrible, bought his wife and his girlfriend the same bracelet for Christmas and didn’t want me to mix them up.” She gestures to where the boxes sit on the very top of the pile.

Fitz face scrunches up in disgust. “What a wanker – sorry.”

She tries not to laugh. “Its okay, he really is, would you like to sit down, I’ve got a second stool back here.”

“Sure, I’ve got a little time.” Jemma excitedly sets aside her beverage and flips up the countertop so he can join her. They settle onto the stools and he swivels his back and forth nervously. “Its strange talkin’ to you in person.”

“Not bad strange, I hope.”

“No, no definitely not bad.”

She ends up asking him about how his work project is coming along and he tells her about the snags they've hit but that its really coming along. He thinks they could use a good biotech person to which she has to decline, being in the middle of her own project. Their conversation slows and Fitz chugs the last bit of hot chocolate before looking for a bin.

"Its under there." She points to the trash can next to the stacks of gifts. Fitz tosses the cup and examines the mountain of presents.

“So why not just switch the cards on these?” He asks as he grabs the bracelet boxes off the pile and places them in front of him.

Jemma frowns. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Fitz asks as he traces the cards with his finger. “Its not like the guy doesn’t deserve whatever would come of it.”

“Well yes he would but it’s my job, I can’t just let my personal feelings effect how I do things, besides he could take it out on the mall if he wanted to, May shouldn’t have to deal with that.” She reasons.

“I think May would on your side.”

“I still can’t Fitz.” She insists as he slides free the tags.

“Fine.” He slips the cards back onto their respective boxes. “Still want to get back at him for ruining your day.”

“Fitz I promise, today is turning out to be pretty great, here – “ Jemma picks up her discarded silver bell necklace and carefully loops it around Fitz’s neck. Her fingers graze his neck, just above the collar of his work polo and she draws them back quickly.  

“What um, what’s this for?” He asks reaches for the bell.

“It’s for spreading Christmas cheer, I think you’re doing a better job of that right now than I am.”

****

Fitz promises Jemma he’ll return her bell at the end of the day. They’re both working open to close and by nightfall the mall is bustling. Friday nights are always busy, usually with teenagers but now with everyone shopping for Christmas its wall to wall people. He’s out demoing drones again. They draw the biggest crowd into the store and the manager had convinced May to let them project the camera’s video feed on to the big screen downstairs at the mall’s Christmas set up.

It keeps him busy. Trying to find interesting things to focus in on. He does enjoy the opportunity to stray farther and farther from the shop. From the balcony he can swoop the drone down to the kids waiting in line for Santa. They wave excitedly and screech with joy when they see their faces up on the screen.

As he retreats the drone back to him there is an audible ‘aww’ of disappointment but if it gets too far away it’ll loose connection and he’ll have to go fetch it when it crash lands. As it comes back up over the railing he does a fancy little spin hoping Jemma is watching. The bit of trick flying always earns him a smile and an eyeroll but when he looks over he sees she busy.

The man from earlier is back to collect his packages. He wishes Jemma would have swapped the cards on them or that he had just done it for her. He knows he shouldn’t but he swings the drone around anyways, he’s a good distance from the guy but its enough to startle him when it wizzes past his head.

“Watch it with that thing!” He snaps.

“Sorry, shotty controls.” He apologizes and holds up the remote guiltily. Still scowling the man take just one of his packages and leaves in a huff.

“Fitz, that was dangerous.” She chides but doesn’t sound as cross as he suspects she could be about it.

“I wasn’t gonna hit him.” He lands the drone on Jemma’s workstation. She’s fiddling with the bow on the man’s other gift. “Why didn’t he take that one?”

“Dinner with his girlfriend, didn’t want to be caught with it.”

Fitz rolls his eyes before returning to the store.

Their long day continues on and the crowds slowly start to dwindle. There are a few stragglers getting in last minute purchases but most of the patrons are either waiting on restaurant reservations or letting out from the evening’s first seatings.

Fitz has just finished charging up the camera drone before locking it up for the night when Jemma rushes into the store.

“Okay, I can’t take it anymore I have to do something or say something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That guy, that horrible, horrible man just kissed his girlfriend goodbye and marched right over here to get the bracelet for his wife who is waiting for him at the restaurant literally around the corner and I just can’t take it, he’s so arrogant and and awful and – “

“Okay, okay, calm down.” He places his hands on her shoulders gently hoping to sooth her frantic motions. “I thought your hands were tied, that you could do anything.”

“They are,” she stresses, “but it’s so unfair Fitz.”

“Okay well,” Fitz doesn’t know how to help in a way that doesn’t get them involved. He could march right up to the guy and confront him but he suspects that will end very badly. If there was away for them all to figure it out on their own maybe with just a push on their side.

“You said you saw the girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“You think she’s still here?”

“Maybe, I saw her head downstairs, I assumed that she was leaving.” Fitz takes Jemma’s hand and rushes her over to the balcony. Her eyes scan the small crowd below. In a small seating area by the North Pole set up a woman has set down her things on an armchair and is pulling on her gloves, Fitz sees the shimmer of a bracelet on her wrist. “That’s her.”

“Okay, go try to keep her there.”

“But I can’t tell her, I can’t just delivery that sort of news she may not even believe me.” Fitz is already shaking his head at her protests.

“That’s the thing about Christmas isn’t it, adults don’t believe in Christmas spirit and Santa and all that because for them seeing is believing,” Fitz rushes back into the shop and grabs up the camera drone. “Let’s give them something to see.”

****

“Excuse me, Ma’am, excuse me.” Jemma races up to the pretty blonde woman who has just finished pulling on her coat and scarf. The woman looks at her startled.

“Yes, can I help you?”

Jemma froze. She didn’t want to be the one to pass along such horrible news. But she only needs to buy Fitz some time. “I, I – I’m sorry you don’t know me, my name is Jemma Simmons, I work upstairs at the gift wrap station, I actually wrapped that lovely bracelet you’ve got there.” She says, pointing to the piece of jewelry the woman is trying to free from her coat sleeve.

The woman smiles. “You did an incredible job, my boyfriend wanted to claim it was his own work, but I knew he could never manage anything like that, he can be such a slob.”

“Among other things.” Jemma mutters quietly but not enough that the woman misses it. Her eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Is there a problem?”

“Um, no, well yes you see – “

“Aww, check out the big screen.” Someone calls and both women turn to the large television. Jemma recognizes the feed from the drone immediately. The camera is trailing along a line of guests waiting to be seated at the restaurant upstairs. They wave cheerfully at the camera which comes to a stop on the man and his wife as he gifts her the bracelet and she excitedly rips open the package and throws herself towards him in gratitude.

Jemma worriedly turns to the woman who has lowered her attention from the screen back to the bracelet. One identical to the one on the screen. For a moment she looks terribly heartbroken.

“I’m so sorry, I feel like I’ve just ruined your holiday.” Jemma’s not even sure she hears her. She’s about to ask if she’s alright but then a look of determination crosses her face and she looks up at her with a smile.

“Thank you, um, you set this up?” She gestures to the screen.

Jemma nods cautiously.

“Prefect, can you make the feed go away, there are children here and they really don’t to see what’s about to happen to him.”

Jemma breathes a sigh of relief. “Consider it done.”

By the time she texts Fitz and returns to her kiosk he is already there looking rather pleased with himself. “You’re not even going to ask if it worked first?”

“Didn’t have too, heard the woman coming when I was clearing out of there.”

“Oh dear, I hope it doesn’t get out of hand, I still feel awful.” She says as she leans against the counter next to him.

Fitz nudged her shoulder with his. “Jemma they were being two-timed, if it was you you would have wanted to know right?”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“Then let it go, please, because I need you to go back to being the cheerful one, it’s too much work for me.” Jemma laughs and nudges his shoulder back. He slips the bell off from around his neck and carefully drapes it back around hers. She looks up at him, her whole body feeling jittery and her eyes land on his. She thinks, and blushes at the thought, that she would kill for a bit of mistletoe right now.

She aims for his cheek instead. Landing a thank you kiss on his scruffy jaw and watching happily as he turns a cute shade of pink.

“Um – “ He stutters out.

“Excuse me.” Jemma and Fitz step apart quickly. Standing a few feet away are the blonde woman from downstairs and a second woman who looks elegantly dressed and perhaps a little frazzled. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt, I was told I might owe you both a thank you?”

“Oh no, it was nothing – “

Fitz cuts her off. “No please thank her, she’s convinced she’s ruined your Christmases.”

“Well, its certainly taken a turn, but for the best in the long run.” The second woman says. She looks between the pair of them. “Actually, as a thank you, would you two like our reservations, someone should have a romantic date night.”

Jemma blushes and Fitz clears his throat. “Oh we’re not together and we should really be working actually –“

“Yes working, right.” Fitz scoops up the drone and hurries off.

Jemma watches him go before turning back to her company. “Thank you, that was very generous of you to offer.”

“Of course.” She says. “And please, don’t worry over this.”

“Yes, its our problem and its being delt with,” the blonde woman agrees. “Should have known something was up, all the time we were together, and he never once looked at me the way that man there looks at you.”

Jemma doesn’t know what to say in response. She looks back at Fitz who glances up at her at the same time and sends her a boyish smile.

“Have a good night Jemma, you’ve given us a lot to think about, maybe we’ve given you something to think about as well.” The women leave and Jemma is left standing at her gift wrapping kiosk, fiddling with the silver bell around her neck.

[douxie-casperan]

Second prompt from this ask by @punsandfuturekingsmen

♚ - A memory of something paranormal

People of all walks of life came into the humble bookshop as much as they did Benoit’s meaning it had cemented it’s own little niche on the town of being open to one and all. In fact the only real difference as far as he could tell was how it took much longer to establish who the regulars were because even the fastest readers weren’t finding excuses to come multiple times in one week unless they wanted a chat. The double takes of a customer recognising him in the ‘wrong place’ as it were was always amusing but kinda nice in a way? Given the accent already made him stand out half a mile that he must have been making a good impression on anybody was heart-warming and besides it made for a good talking point if nothing else and he was always game for stopping for a few minutes if it wasn’t too busy.

In here specifically there were a few that would come in not to buy anything but to have a sneaky cat nap on the chairs like some would in a library, on occasion purely by accident, knowing he won’t say anything bad about it mean he did do much the same and heck being somewhere safe, warm plus knowing where you wouldn’t get yelled at he couldn’t blame them at all really. They’d buy something afterwards as a thank you with neither commenting on what had happened to save any further embarrassment when they were usually already red in the face and a bit twitchy. The majority though were those seeking the next book in their series, a new author to try, getting their hands on some actual historical works for the nostalgia of it all or that one changeling with a lilt that bordered on South African from out of town who was using him as a pickup point knowing no questions would be asked why their wares had to come here and nowhere else. He did like them, last time they had an order he’d been gifted some koeksisters to try fresh from the freezer for being such a help in ensuring a gift didn’t get intercepted by the giftee and he was looking forward to finding out the result and saying how badly he needed the recipe for the thing.

Then there was a certain high schooler who came in two days out of five with a backpack ready to be filled with that day’s finds and money jangling in his pocket that never seemed to run out for anything he’d chosen to keep. Kids coming in were a bit more unusual as hey they tended to go for the second-hand places for their clothes rather than trying their luck with books so it was understandable but he was a special case. See, every so often you get a conspiracy theorist that is like gold dust in sand managing to stand out amongst the crowds of those reaching for wisps while only coming up empty, those that are alarmingly close to things they shouldn’t be and he was one of them. There too should have been some sort of irony there given the particular nature of the shop and the sheer amount of magical contents sitting in plain sight that more than once he came scarily close to taking off a shelf without ever cottoning on that anything resident was really all that untoward.

As it was the usual fare of late tended to a strange fixation on stone-skinned people that sounded suspiciously like very real trolls instead of the fairy tale variety, collaborating evidence from various sources including notes he’d written down presumably from online to find a common denominator while abusing the fact that he tended to stock a mixture of genres and a range of older to more modern text. As things go it was one of the more harmless pursuits he could be undertaking so Douxie simply kept tabs on his reading material, gave Zoe updates how it was all going when he needed someone else to join in the sheer weirdness of the situation and generally left it well alone feeling it wiser not to discourage it lest it just set him off with renewed vigour and really did put somebody in trouble.

Something changed between when he was in town and after ADP was needed for front lining for Papa Skull though and he cannot put a finger on what exactly the culprit was. It was like he suddenly had to become even more secretive about his efforts as though fearing somebody would catch him in the act? It still looked pretty innocent though even if the amount of books needing to be put away afterwards because he had to dash out the door again before he broke curfew was starting to get a tiny bit irritating but he’d survive.

One day a few weeks later and out the blue while listening to music blasting a bit too loud through headphones sitting around his neck the one he’d since come to know was called Eli Pepperjack (Like the cheese! He’d said) approached the counter a little nervously but determined. Raising a finger to ask for a second the music is paused and he leans forward onto the glass with a quirked brow wondering what today’s thing was going to be, he’d been getting much comfortable about talking outside of purchases which was nice.

“Um, could I ask you something please? You didn’t seem too busy and I thought, I mean, if it’s okay.”

“Not a problem mate, there something up?”

A deep breath is taken for fortitude then with a look of determination he dives straight into whatever had been bubbling away in that head of his gesturing wildly with one hand and keeping the other just out of sight. Douxie barely gets a chance to blink.

“Well it’s just you’ve been really helping me out so much these past few months and I think it’s finally time to pay it forward!” Eli says with all the joys of somebody who is so relieved to finally be able to tell someone. His phone is held up for the wizard to see and it shows what looked like a homemade conspiracy board zoomed in specifically to show a section he’d built up about trolls covered in random doodles, a couple newspaper clippings, an alarming amount of mentions of the school and a map that had a pin sitting round about where the Trollmarket would be - Oh and there is a sketch peeking out from the helpfully labelled TROLLS that could well be an artistic impression of one, fuzzbuckets. Letting out a hummed noise he looks back to him cocking his head to one side feigning innocence somewhat thankful Archie is keeping a low profile on the upper shelves right now.

“Wow you really have been busy, this what you’ve been up to the entire time?”

“Yep I’ve been studying the creepers of Arcadia! Ever since I saw something in the canals it’s been an itch that needed somebody to go out there and find out the truth so because I already had a head start I figured it may as well be me! I still don’t know if they’re good guys or bad guys or not which is why I want to keep this a secret between us just in case…” He pauses, his previous enthusiasm wilting a little before asking the most vital question of all.

“You can do that, right?”

With a smile hiding the wonder of quite where the irony is going to stop a fist is held out for the teen and it’s bumped back with delight of a contract sealed.

“For something as important as this? Consider it done.”

[zecretsanta]

Fic: Something I need

 To: @eatingfireflies

From: @hardcoreprince

Merry Christmas, D!!! I was super excited to get you as my giftee! I hope you like what I’ve put together!

Notes: In my mind I kind of continued off what I established in The Knowledge Argument, but you definitely don’t need to read that to read this. It’s really just a bit of pure fluff. Enjoy and Merry Christmas, D!!

AO3 LINK

“Do you really need another boyfriend? You’re so greedy!”

Carlos blinks as he tears his eyes away from his phone and stares at his sister, who is grinning maddeningly at him. They’re sprawled out on the couch at his apartment as a cheesy Christmas movie plays in the background. They’re only about twenty minutes in. The city slicker main character is still adjusting to life in a small town.

“What—”

“Don’t play dumb.” Maria sits up and examines him critically. “No morphogenetic field required, I can tell you like Aoi. You’re texting him now, aren’t you?”

Carlos goes a little red as he stares down at the phone in his hands. “Maybe I am,” he mumbles. “But it’s not like that! He wanted to know what we needed at the store.”

Maria shakes her head. “I wrote him a list. It is like that. Geeze, maybe I should become a firefighter. I can’t even get one boy to date me.” She sighs and shakes her head ruefully.

“We’re not dating!” Carlos laughs a little. “Maria, anyone would be lucky to date you.”

She scoffs. “Don’t give me that line. Anyway, we were talking about you. Why not? What’s the harm in one more? Junpei’s dating him too, isn’t he?”

The phone vibrates in Carlos’ hands, only further incriminating him. Another message from Aoi. It had started out with Aoi asking Carlos to remind him what he wanted from the market… but it had quickly devolved into a conversation about what brand of crappy instant coffee is better, which turned into what Carlos thinks could be flirting…

“He is,” Carlos says carefully. “But I don’t want to assume that just because Junpei is dating him means that I should, or that he even likes me. That’s too complicated, right? This thing with Akane and Junpei… that’s enough without me getting involved with someone else.”

“He’s not a stranger or anything, he’s Akane’s brother. And I think he does like you.” Maria lifts her eyebrows a little and leans closer, as if she has a secret. “Anyway, I know you like him because you forgot to check the roast.”

A jolt of panic goes through Carlos as he leaps from the couch. “Oh sh— shoot, the roast!”

Maria’s giggles follow him into the kitchen as he scrambles to the oven. “I’m not twelve anymore!”

But all his haste was for nothing. When Carlos cracks open the oven, the roast looks fine, despite the fact that he was supposed to check on it ten minutes ago. As he pierces the skin with the thermometer, he tries to put what Maria said out of his mind. But it’s hard when Aoi is coming back in about ten minutes…

Junpei, Akane, and Aoi have been visiting for the past few days and his apartment has never been more crowded. Junpei keeps telling him to get a bigger place but Carlos insists the housing market is terrible and he doesn’t have enough time for that. So, they’ve made do. Carlos, Akane, and Junpei sleep in Carlos’ room and Aoi gets the couch. Aoi initially complained, saying he didn’t come all the way to America to couch surf, and almost got a hotel. But Akane sweetly reminded him that hotels did not offer five-star breakfasts and cute firemen to cook them. Carlos had blushed at that and Aoi had rolled his eyes but agreed to stay.

How Aoi ended up in America in the first place was all Junpei’s doing. The official line is that Junpei insisted it would be pathetic if Aoi spent Christmas alone, so he dragged him all the way out to California. Maria suspects Aoi tagging along has less to do with that and more to do with Carlos. But Carlos doesn’t think it’s too much of a stretch to bring your boyfriend when you’re visiting your other boyfriend with your girlfriend…

What has his life become?

The door squeaks open in the other room just loud enough for Carlos to hear it and he smiles. He washes his hands and leaves the kitchen to find Aoi, Junpei, and Akane coming in the front door with probably more groceries than strictly necessary. Aoi had only proposed the trip to get some (good) wine to go with dinner, and Maria made up a list of a few things they could use, but it looks like they’ve come back with much more than that.

“Blame Junpei,” Akane says when she sees Carlos’ questioning gaze. “He was the one who insisted on getting three flavors of instant ramen like he’s still at University.”

“I’ve never seen those flavors,” Junpei scowls, brushing past Carlos to drop his bag in the kitchen. “Besides, Akane bought a lot of coffee creamer.”

“I’ve never seen those flavors,” Akane parrots innocently.

Carlos shakes his head, but he’s smiling. He looks to Aoi, who’s struggling with an overpacked bag, and takes it from him effortlessly. “What did you buy too much of?”

Aoi grins and there’s something about that expression that’s so inviting and teasing that it makes Carlos a little bit flustered. “Alcohol. Too many flavors and all that shit. Americans really like that flavored crap, don’t they?”

“I guess…” Carlos says with a little shrug. He peers into the bag and sees a variety of holiday flavored wines and vodkas. Are you planning on drinking all this?“

“Oh?” Aoi steps closer to Carlos and even though he’s shorter, Carlos can’t help but feel like he’s being loomed over. “Can’t hold your liquor?”

Carlos can only stare as Aoi brushes past him to bother Junpei in the kitchen. Now without Aoi in front of him, Carlos can see Maria and Akane watching him.

“Told you,” Maria says, giggling.

Akane grins. “You were right. My brother and your brother… we’ll be, double sisters in law?”

That really makes Maria laugh. Carlos goes red as the both of them giggle at his expense. “It’s not like that,” he insists.

Akane steps forward and cups Carlos’ face. He leans into her touch. “Sorry, just teasing. I know how you are, don’t worry, okay? It’s Christmas Eve.”

But Carlos is very good at worrying.

During dinner, Aoi serves Carlos a generous helping of a very sweet wine that tastes off puttingly of peppermint. There are three bottles of various flavors open at the table and it seems random who has gotten what.

“Pumpkin spice wine?” Junpei sputters, looking scandalized. “Aoi… you’ve really gone too far this time.”

“Don’t blame me,” Aoi says with a little shrug. “I’m just the messenger. You should really be blaming this fucking sinful country for concocting such an abomination.”

“Mine’s not bad,” Maria offers. holding it out to Junpei for a taste. She’s sitting next to Carlos. Across from them are Akane and Junpei, and right next to Carlos at the corner of the table is Aoi.

Junpei sips the dark liquid suspiciously and pulls a face. “Is that supposed to be chocolate?”

“You’re so uncultured,” Aoi says with a long-suffering sigh as he clinks glasses with Akane.

In turn, Akane drinks her white wine and blinks. “Cheesecake. Here, Jumpy, maybe this is more to your taste.”

After Junpei decides he definitely does not like that one either, he looks to Carlos, who shrugs. “No, you won’t like mine. Peppermint. A lot of it.”

Junpei turns to Aoi with disgust. “Why did you even buy that? Anyone who drinks that better not kiss me.”

Before Carlos knows what’s happening, Aoi is reaching for his glass. He downs the rest of the wine in one go, not breaking eye contact with Junpei. “Whoops. Guess I don’t get to kiss you now. Big fucking loss. I’ll just have to kiss Carlos.” Aoi leans over and slips an arm around Carlos.

Carlos goes a little red and even redder as Maria catches his eye and raises an eyebrow at him. He coughs and averts his gaze as Junpei fumes.

“You’re a dick,” Junpei grumbles. “I didn’t want to kiss either of you anyway.”

“Liar.” Aoi idly refills the wine glass and passes it to Akane as Junpei’s eyes go wide.

“No, don’t do it, Kanny, please. I swear I’ll shift right now to some other timeline where you don’t ruin the taste of your lips.”

Akane grins at Aoi and takes the glass. Junpei gapes at her as she brings the glass to her lips ever so slowly. Even Carlos holds his breath with anticipation. But she doesn’t take a sip. Instead she giggles and puts it down. “Jumpy, you’re so dramatic.”

Carlos starts tuning out the rest of their banter because Aoi’s arm is still draped tantalizingly around him. He serves himself some more of the offending wine and drinks it too quickly. The roast is good, no harm done for ignoring it for a little while, and the meal passes by comfortably with Aoi’s arm around him. Every time Carlos thinks he’s going to pull away… he doesn’t. If anything, he draws closer.

Towrds the end of the meal, everyone is a little tipsy and Aoi leans close to Carlos’ ear to whisper, “Meet me outside in two minutes.” He gets up from the table and stretches out like a cat while Carlos stares bewilderedly after him “Be right back,” he tells the table. “Gotta take a piss.”

“Go wash your mouth out,” Junpei gripes. “Plenty of mouthwash.”

Aoi flips him off as he leaves, and Carlos is left with a growing pit of dread in his stomach. He watches the next two minutes crawl by as he stares at the clock on the wall. When it’s finally time for him to get up, he lurches unsteadily to his feet and Maria looks up at him with concern.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah.” Carlos waves her off. “Just need to get some air.”

“Okay…” Maria is looking at him with too much scrutiny, so he hurries out of the kitchen before she can pick up anything weird from him. They’re so much more in tune these days that he’s had to ask her to stop prying into his mind. She complies… most of the time.

When Carlos gets outside the front door of his apartment, Aoi is waiting there, bathed in his porchlight and smoking a cigarette carelessly as he leans against the railing. “You actually waited two minutes.” He shakes his head and grins. “What a fuckin’ dumbass.”

Carlos falters. It’s cold outside and he’s just wearing a stupid holiday sweater Maria picked out for him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and averts his eyes. “I’m good at following instructions,” he offers.

At that, Aoi snorts and takes a drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. “I just didn’t want the others to get suspicious. You blush too easily.” He takes a step towards Carlos, who instantly gets tense. “Relax. Jesus.” Aoi reaches forward and brushes a piece of hair from Carlos’ face.

“Oh,” Carlos says softly. A puff of his breath materializes between them. He tries to look anywhere else but Aoi is so close. “This won’t… this doesn’t complicate everything, does it?”

“Goddamn, you talk too much,” Aoi says, slipping one of his hands behind Carlos’ neck. His hands are cold, and it makes Carlos shiver. “I’ve already stolen one of my sister’s boyfriends. Another one isn’t going to hurt, right?”

“I-I guess?”

“You like me, right?” Aoi’s words are more of a demand than anything. He already knows the answer, obviously. His brazenness makes Carlos laugh helplessly.

“Y-yes, but—”

“Then quit fuckin’ talking! Jesus, I’m trying to make out with you at a holiday party. I shouldn’t have to say anything except ‘you, me, outside.’”

Carlos doesn’t have time to say anything to that before Aoi is leaning up and pressing mouth firm against Carlos’. He tastes strongly of peppermint wine but it’s not off putting anymore. Carlos slides his eyes shut and winds his arms around Aoi’s waist. He lets himself relax and the cold melts away as Aoi digs his fingers in Carlos’ hair. He’s not as tall as Carlos, so he’s pulling him down, pressing his body up to meet him.

When they break apart, Carlos is breathless and pink and Aoi is grinning at him like the Cheshire Cat. “Alright, fix your face, they’re going to wonder where we’ve been. I’ll go first.”

And then Aoi is gone and Carlos is standing on his porch wondering what the hell just happened.

The next ten minutes pass by in a blur. Carlos returns to his kitchen. Maria raises her eyebrows over and over at him, Junpei is still complaining about the wine, and Akane is giving him a knowing look. Finally, Maria excuses herself, saying she’s meeting up with some friends, and she winks at Carlos not so subtly as she leaves. Now, left with a mountain of dishes, Junpei says they should clean up later and the four of them end up crammed together on Carlos’ couch.

Carlos ends up exactly where he does not want to be, stuck between Akane and Aoi. Akane curls into him at once and Aoi slings an arm around him.

“Of course, I’m on the end,” Junpei mutters as he makes himself comfortable on Aoi’s other side.

“Quit whining, you’re going to have to learn to share this solid asshole.” Aoi pats Carlos’ shoulder appreciatively. “You two have really been holding out on me.”

“I knew something happened when you both disappeared,” Akane says, looking up at Carlos brightly. He’s trying very hard not to look flustered. “You have my full support. Jumpy? Tell him you support him.”

“What? Hell no. I can’t let Carlos date this… this degenerate.”

Aoi swiftly elbows Junpei in the stomach and Junpei starts swearing at him and Carlos can only watch in mild horror as the two of them start wrestling on the couch, right there next to him. Akane puts a hand on his cheek and gently guides his gaze to her.

“Jumpy’s joking. It’s alright. We’re both happy for you. I know it seems like too much, but you don’t have to worry.” She smiles at him and her eyes are so soft and gentle as she leans forward to give him a chaste peck on the lips.

As Akane pulls away, Carlos is smiling. “Uh, thanks, Akane. Guess it’s too much to ask for a normal Christmas, huh?”

Akane grins back him and puts a hand on his chest as he slips an arm around her. “Don’t worry. This is as normal as it gets.”

After a moment, Aoi settles back against Carlos, apparently done wrestling with Junpei.

“You see what he’s like?” Junpei grumbles, resting his head on Aoi’s shoulder and closing his eyes. “But if you must… I guess I support you.”

“Didn’t need your approval, asshole,” Aoi breathes into Carlos’ neck.

Carlos laughs. He’s comfortable and full and still a little tipsy and maybe just slightly overwhelmed to suddenly find himself entangled with Akane’s brother but… he’s happy above all else. And as the four of them eventually fall asleep on the couch, watching a movie that none of them were paying attention to, Carlos can’t believe how lucky he is.

[ilovemesomekillianjones]

No More Running

To my CSSS giftee @word-bug, it has been a pleasure chit chatting with you over this holiday season! Here is your present, a little angst, a little mutual pining, a little smut, and a ton of fluff. I hope you enjoy it! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

This is a fic based on the prompt, “you’re in the hospital for the holidays so i came in while you were sleeping to decorate your room i love you merry christmas” - from this post: http://nadiahilker.tumblr.com/post/133627477715/im-always-a-slut-for-a-christmas-au-i-know-we

Beta’d by the ever lovely @like-waves-on-the-beach Thanks for the time you gave me, on Christmas Eve morning no less, to beta for me.

8.2k   ao3   ffnet

“Merry Christmas, Swan! What’s up?” Killian answered his phone with a silly smile; the same silly smile that always came across his face when his best friend was on his mind.

“Still ever the jolly little elf, aren’t ya,” Emma deadpanned.

“Nothing little about me, Swan, but yes, I am quite jolly.”

“Alright, alright, enough of that. I’ll be off around five, are we still on for tonight?”

If possible, his smile grew wider at the hopeful tone in her voice. “Of course, what do you have in mind?”

“You could come over to my place, we could get chinese and watch a movie?”

“It’s Christmas Eve, eve, Swan-”

“That’s not even a thing, Killian.”

Killian could practically hear the eye roll through the phone. “It is so, and there is much to do on this Christmas Eve, eve; it’s a Saturday evening. The town Christmas parade is tonight, the Irish Rose is having an all night Christmas party, drinks are half price. The Nightmare Before Christmas is playing at the cinema-”

“What are you, the local entertainment section of the paper? I’m so burnt out after this week, I really want to keep it lowkey.”

“Well if you insist on staying in, it’s going to be at my place. You don’t even decorate, Scrooge.”

“I am not a scrooge! I just don’t like- I mean I don’t have time to- ugh, whatever. Not everyone likes it when Christmas throws up all over their house.”

“You’re right, not everyone enjoys it, you and Scrooge for example,” he laughed into the phone.

“Your place it is,” she acquiesced, knowing she really was a bit of a scrooge. But it wasn’t a totally unfounded reason for her lack of Christmas spirit. “I’ll pick up food on the way, pick your pleasure.”

“Well if it’s pleasure we’re talking about, I’ve a wholly different menu than anything you can pick up from restaurant, love,” he flirted.

“Oh my god, Killian. You are so shameless,” she chastised, silently praising the fact that blushing couldn’t be seen through the phone.

“You love it,” he taunted her. “Are you blushing yet?”

“What do you want for dinner,” Emma dodged his question.

“I’ll cook,” he answered, “see you tonight, Swan.”

“See ya,” she replied before disconnecting.

♥E&K♥

Tonight was the night, he was going to do it. His heart was suddenly beating a million miles a minute, and he was a little dizzy at just the thought of telling her. Bloody coward, he thought while scowling at himself in the mirror. He knew how he felt, he knew what he wanted, he knew what he needed to say. Just tell her you love her, you git, how hard could it be? he heard Liam’s voice in his head. Easier said than done, he challenged his mind’s conjuring of his deceased brother.

Running the towel over his freshly washed hair one last time, he hung up the towel then slipped a clean black v neck over his head.

When it came right down to it, he wasn’t afraid to just tell her. That would be the easy part. The hard part would be her reaction. Emma Swan, love of his life, and his best friend. Deer would have been a more accurate depiction than swan. Sure she was beautiful and graceful, like a swan, but damn if she wasn’t the most skittish woman he’d ever met in his life. The moment she felt trapped by feelings, she was off and running. He understood that for Emma, running was easiest, her whole life had been hard, and so he didn’t blame her for taking the easy way out when she could. He just hoped against hope that tonight would be the one time she might not run.

Killian was pulled from his ruminations when his doorbell rang. Deep breath, he told himself as he went to answer the door.

Deep breath, Emma told herself. She didn’t want to ruin a perfect Saturday evening by being uptight and stressed out. After the rough week she’d had, she was ready to hang with her best friend, and leave the stress behind. Exhaling, Emma pulled off her jacket, and beanie, then knocked on the door.

Holy hot hell, were the words that came to mind when Killian opened his door. Goddamn, he looks good.

“See something you like?” he smirked.

Emma rolled her eyes, “Who’re you trying to impress?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Killian mock bowed, extending his arm out to welcome her into his home.

“You would,” she scoffed, breezing past him in his too-tight black shirt and soft gray sweats. Good lord he smells heavenly, too. Emma slipped her boots off, dropped her jacket and beanie, then plopped down on his couch and watched as he went to go grab them a couple of drinks.

Why did her best friend have to be the best looking man on the face of planet Earth? Why did her best friend have to look like the perfect solution to a stressful week? If he was half as good as he boasted to be when teasing her, he could fuck away all her troubles, she just knew it. The only way he’d look better is if he wasn’t dressed at all, she mused, biting down on her lip. Why did she have to be in love with her best friend?

That last reflection jarred her out of her pleasurable thoughts. She thought she’d locked that shit up a long time ago. There was no way she could go down that road with Killian Jones. He was one of the few good thing she had going on in her life. She had an affinity for screwing up a good thing, if anyone knew that, it was her.

“I would pay a fair amount of money to know what is going on in that head of yours, Swan.”

Emma startled a little as he sat down right next to her. She hadn’t realized just how deeply she had fallen into her mind. “Just thinking about the shitty week I’ve had,” she lied.

“Huh, I’d have guessed you were thinking about how good my arse looked as I was bent over the fridge fetching us drinks.”

“Shut up!” Emma laughed backhanding his bicep. So solid, she thought.

“Why don’t you tell me about it,” he suggested, throwing his arm across the couch behind her head.

How did just the presence of one woman make his heart feel so combustible. She breezed past him through the open door smelling of sunflowers and honey. She wore nothing more than a thin cream colored sweater and black leggings, but she was a vision to him nonetheless. As he brought their sodas over to the couch, he took a moment to admire her as she stared off, deep in thought. Gods, she’s gorgeous.

Taking a seat next to her he questioned what was on her mind. He let the lie roll off her tongue and off his back. He knew his Swan held her cards close to her chest. No matter what she was thinking, he knew if she really needed to confide in him she would.

“Tell you about what?” she asked.

“Your shitty week, darling.”

“It’s not really all that interesting. How about we just watch a movie instead.”

Killian knew a diversion tactic when he heard one, so he leaned forward to grab the remote. “Alright then, what are you in the mood for? Comedy, drama, horror, a little erotica,” he suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Emma laughed out loud. “You are such a goofball.”

“Am not! I am a dashing rapscallion, and I’ve a reputation to uphold. That’s slander, Swan.”

Emma giggled at his antics, he always knew exactly how to put her in a better mood.

“You choose, I’ll get dinner.”

As soon as he was up Emma missed him, the smell of his body wash, his arm surrounding her without touching her, his whole presence.  She craved that, more so tonight than usual. Maybe it was the impending holiday. The Christmas season was always a bit difficult for Emma. She had grown up in a place where Christmas was a tradition, a hugely celebrated holiday, yet she’d never had a family to celebrate with. She enjoyed the decorations and the sentiments, but she could never bring herself to be quite merry enough to decorate her own apartment.

That was why they’d decided to hang at Killian’s house tonight. He loved the holiday season, loved the festive mood, had a tree, and lights outside, a snowman apocalypse had taken over most surfaces of his home, and he even had a stocking just for Emma. She looked around at the winter wonderland, wondering just how much more opposite they could be.

“Have you decided what to watch, yet? Or are you content to hide away in your head this evening?” He set down two plates of chicken and broccoli alfredo before reclaiming his seat next to her.

“Horror,” she decided. “I think a good bloody, gory, horror movie will fit this holiday season just right.” And if she really only wanted to watch a horror movie as an excuse to cuddle up next to him, well, sue her, she was only a red blooded woman. They proceeded to eat and scroll through hundreds of horror flicks before finally settling on one.

“That was delicious!” Emma exclaimed.

“I know what you’re thinking, devilishly handsome and he can cook,” Killian joked, taking her plate.

“How’d you know?” Emma over-exaggerated as he took the dishes to the kitchen. She started the movie when he sat down beside her again.

A shrill scream cut through the silence, and Emma practically jumped into his lap. Killian wrapped his arm around her, horror had been the perfect choice of genre on her part. He treasured getting to hold her close like this, enjoyed the way her hair tickled his nose when he leaned his cheek atop her head.  “You alright there, Swan?”

She nodded her head, but then buried her face in his chest, and threw her arm around his waist as yet another unsuspecting victim was attacked on-screen.  

Killian chuckled at the sharp contrast of her actions to her words. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

Emma yanked at a patch of his chest hair that peeked through the v of his t-shirt. “Hey, the only one who saves me is me.”

“Ooh, tough lass,” he teased when she jumped once more. Absentmindedly his fingers played with a lock of her soft hair, twirling it around his fingers.

They watched the remainder of the movie in silence, holding on to each other, secretly reveling in the comfort it brought. “Want to watch another one,” Killian asked her when the movie credits started rolling. He was loathe to let her go just yet.

Emma sat up and looked at him, his gorgeous blue eyes looked so hopeful. She didn’t want to go just yet, didn’t want to leave the comfort bubble they had created this evening. But before she could just nod yes to his question, instinct took over and she leaned in to kiss him. She wanted to taste that hope in his expression. His lips were soft against hers, and she sighed in contentment at just the contact. Leaning into his body, Emma opened her mouth just enough to allow her tongue to lick a path across his bottom lip.

“Emma,” Killian moaned against her lips.

Deciding to be bold, Emma easily straddled his lap, then wrapped both arms around his neck and connected their mouths once more. He opened to her when she licked his lips this time. Emma tried to cut off the choked whimper as their tongues met for the first time. It was no use though, she couldn’t really control the noises that escaped her, or the way her body pushed against his with need.

Killian’s mind was spinning. It was a Christmas miracle, Emma Swan in his arms, plundering him. He rhythmically slid his tongue against hers and tried to control his ardor as she rubbed against him in a matching rhythm. The little noises she made and the sounds of their kiss only served to arouse him further, making it painfully obvious in his sweatpants just how aroused he was. He couldn’t bring himself to feel embarrassed given that Emma was grinding herself against his hard-on every bit like the teenagers they were acting like.  He ran his hands up and then down the contour of her back until he reached her ass. He squeezed her cheeks and urged her on in her ride.

So you opted for a quick lay then, brother? Killian heard his brother’s warning in his head. That was not at all what Killian was doing, but would that be what this became? Would this mean as much to Emma as it would to him?

“Hold on, Swan.” As much as he detested bringing their enjoyable activities to a halt, he detested the thought of this being a one time thing even more.

“Why,” Emma whined as she literally grinded to a halt.

“I don’t want this-”

“You don’t want this…” Emma trailed off, jumping from Killian’s lap. She immediately stood up and folded her arms across her middle, a move he recognized as her subconscious trying to protect herself.

“Let me finish, love. As you can see,” Killian gestured to his raging erection, which he adjusted slightly, “I clearly want this.”

Emma blushed a little at his uninhibited statement. “Then why’d you…”

“What I was going to say is, I don’t want this to be a one time thing, Emma.”

Her eyes widened at his use of her given name. Prior to him moaning it into her ear a moment ago, he only ever used it if something serious was happening. Serious. Emma’s hearing was suddenly tinny, there was a faint ringing in her ears, and the room seemed to be getting a little smaller. She tried to take a deep breath, but felt as though she couldn’t inhale deeply enough. Wasn’t this what she wanted? She was too confused to form the thoughts of what she actually wanted. Not ready, were the only words that came. Regardless of what she wanted, Emma wasn’t ready. When then? she argued with herself. You’ll just ruin it, her dark side told her. I can’t lose him, too, she panicked.

Killian watched as emotion after emotion played in her eyes. First a bit of shock, then confusion, he could swear he saw want, and maybe even belief for just a second, but ultimately fear won out. He felt his hope turn to anguish. He wasn’t going down without a fight though. “Look Swan, I know you want to run. But I want you to have the facts before you leave.”

She gave a miniscule nod of her head, tears welling in her eyes. She might not know what he was going to say, but she knew what she needed to do.

“I love you, Emma Swan.” Killian stood up off the couch and stepped toward her. He took both her hands in his and continued, “For years now, I have loved you, and I am in this for the long haul. I know you want to run right now, and I won’t stop you, but I will ask you to stay. Please Emma, stay?”

Emma listened to Killian, and as much as she wanted to stay, while every fiber of her being was telling her that she could, her traitorous mind was telling her to run. Screaming at her that she would ruin it, he would abandon her too. “I- I can’t,” she whispered on a broken sob. She removed her hands from his and quickly walked toward the door.

“Emma,” he called after her.

Grabbing her jacket and beanie from the floor, she turned and spared him one last glance before opening the front door and running to her car.

♥E&K♥

As Killian laid in bed that night, a single concept swam around in his mind. Longing. She had looked at him longingly, right before she ran. She did want him, she did want them. He knew it in his heart. It was just going to take some convincing of the part of her that liked to embrace the worst, see the worst, and keep out any happiness from Emma’s life. He fell into a semi-comforting sleep as his plan came into focus. He would go to her, he would convince her. Perhaps he should have tried harder tonight, but giving her the night wouldn’t hurt. He would go to her tomorrow, first thing in the morning.

A few short blocks away Emma lay in her bed, mind jumbled with thoughts. The most prevalent among them was, what the hell is wrong with you? Why had she panicked? She loved him, always had, and he had laid his heart out there to tell her words she never thought she’d hear Killian Jones tell her, and she had done what she always did. She ruined it. She couldn’t sleep, tossing and turning as the look of sadness, hurt, and even disappointment that had painted his face riddled her weary mind. Emma only began to settle down and relax once she decided she knew what she had to do. She would go to him. First thing in the morning she would go to his place, she would apologize and tell him that she felt the same. All his stupid snowmen would bear witness as she threw herself at his mercy.

♥E&K♥

Killian Jones had always been an early riser and this morning was no different. He went through his morning routine, he whistled Silver Bells as he waited for the second cup of coffee to finish brewing. He would take two travel mugs of coffee, go to the donut shop to grab Emma a bear claw, and then he would go and woo the woman he loved.  He stepped out into a fresh layer of snow, perhaps they would have a white Christmas after all. He thanked his lucky stars that the driveway wasn’t too bad off, he didn’t have time for that mess this morning. He got into his car still whistling Christmas tunes as he backed out of his driveway.

Emma had always been a late riser and this morning was no different. She stretched lazily before rolling out of bed to get ready for the first day of the rest of her life. As she went through her morning routine she prayed that Killian would have coffee ready when she got there. She couldn’t possible imbibe in any liquid courage this early in the day, but she at least needed her caffeine fix.

Emma’s heart leapt into her throat as she turned onto Killian’s street. There were emergency vehicles in the vicinity of Killian’s home, a fire truck and two police units. At least there’s no ambulance, she thought with relief. She pulled off to the side of the road, not wanting to impede any investigation. She would just walk the rest of the way to Killian’s.

Emma was almost to the fire truck when an officer started to jog toward her. “Sorry, ma’am, we can’t permit you any further than this,” he called out on approach.

“Oh, I’m not being nosey, I’m just trying to get to my friend’s house.”

“Emma?”

“Oh, hey David. I’m just trying to get to Killian’s. Come on, you can let your wife’s sister slip around can’t you. I won’t tell if you don’t,” she laughed.  

“Emma, maybe you should come with me.”

Emma immediately went on high alert at David’s grave tone. “What’s going on?”

“There’s been an accident-”

“What kind of accident,” Emma asked. When David didn’t respond she took off running. “No, no, no, no, Killian!” she yelled as she rounded the fire truck. Killian’s car was crushed, the entire driver’s side was smashed in, and all the windows were shattered. Glass littered the ground around them. “Where is he? Where’s Killian? David, where is he?” she cried as she took in the destruction.

“He’s gone, lady,” a short man in an EMT uniform hollered callously.

“He’s gone?” Emma mumbled to no one in particular as she dropped to her knees. She didn’t feel the glass cutting into her when her knees hit the ground, she didn’t feel anything but a vice like grip on her heart as a sob wracked her body.

She didn’t know how long she’d been there as time felt suspended. She could see around her, but nothing registered, no sound, no feeling. Suddenly Emma felt arms around her middle and immediately fought them off. “Get off of me,” she yelled. “I’m fine!” Emma wiped at the tears that had spilled, while inhaling as deeply as she could. Control, she told herself. Emma turned to David, “Sorry, I’m okay,” she gritted out as calmly as possible. “David, just tell me where Killian is, okay? I really need to get to him.”

“I don’t think you should be driving right now, let me take you to him.”

Emma hung her head, nodding silently. The tears fell straight down to the ground, silent and continuous as she tried to come to terms with losing her best friend.

David looked over at Emma in the passenger seat, he’d never seen Emma this broken. According to his Mary Margaret, she’d been through some pretty rough times before landing in the Blanchard home, and eventually being adopted. Not knowing what to say, he reached over and held her hand. “He’s going to be okay,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

Emma’s head shot up and she looked at him like he was crazy.

“What? It doesn’t hurt to hope at a time like this,” he reasoned.

“He’s dead! What the hell do you mean he’s going to fucking be okay?” she screamed at him, unleashing the anger she felt at the world’s perverse pleasure in her suffering.

It was David’s turn to look stupefied. “What are you talking about? Killian’s in the hospital, he’s not dead.”

“What!” Emma breathed out, her whole body was shaking with adrenaline. “Get me to him. Now!” she demanded turning on David’s police siren.

David had barely put the car in park when Emma hopped out and sprinted into the emergency room. Arriving at the counter she asked the woman behind the counter where she could find Killian.

“I’m sorry ma’am, are you family?”

“Yes!”

“What’s your name and relationship to the patient?”

“I’m Emma Swan, and I’m… he’s all I’ve got,” she pleaded.

The nurse looked up at her and smiled kindly before looking down at the paperwork again. “I’m sorry ma’am if you’re not family- oh wait, he has you listed as next of kin.”

Emma let out a half laugh half sob at that news, and brought her closed fist up to her mouth as she tried not to lose it again. “Please, can I see him.”

“He’s in bed six.” The nurse pushed the release button for the door and Emma immediately barreled through.

Locating the sixth bay, Emma peeked around the curtain to make sure she was in the right place. “Killian,” she sobbed, her tears once again falling as she took in his battered state.  The left side of his face was bruised, bloody, and swollen, and the entirety of his left forearm and hand were wrapped. She pulled up the chair that was in the corner of the small curtained off room and snatched his right hand into both of hers.

A doctor entered the room at that moment, “Good afternoon, I’m Doctor Anna Winters, I will be overseeing Killian’s treatment. I’d like to go over the next steps with you.” She continued when Emma nodded her head. “Killian was in an accident this morning, he was found unconscious by a neighbor who heard the crash. He has deep lacerations on his forehead, his left forearm, and wrist. Head wounds bleed rather profusely. Even with his lack of consciousness, we gave him a local anesthetic for the sutures just to be sure he couldn’t feel anything. The laceration was deep, but scarring should be at a minimum. Now we just need to run some tests to check for damage we can’t see. Since we need to get a look at the leg that was pinned, as well as possible swelling of the brain and any potential internal bleeding, we’ll be sending him for a full body CT scan. Do you have any questions for me?”

Notwithstanding how the words swirled around Emma’s head just as quickly as the spunky doctor had said them, she knew she had one pressing question. “Will he be okay?”

The doctor chuckled lightly despite the grim situation. “I can’t make you any guarantees, but my medical opinion is that Killian will make a full recovery. Considering he was broadsided by a car doing around 30 miles per hour, according to the preliminary police report, he is in pretty good condition.”

“How soon until he wakes up?”

“That’s up to Killian’s body and mind. Sometimes our body’s natural defense mechanism is to function at a lower state of alertness. Since he has been in and out of consciousness, he is not in a coma. He was asking for you earlier, assuming you’re Emma?”

She looked down at his still form,then back up at the doctor. “May I have just a minute before you take him?”

The doctor nodded, “Someone from my team will be in to collect him momentarily.”

Emma squeezed Killian’s hand between hers, “Killian,” she whispered. “I need you to… I just need you.” She wept as the adrenaline began to wear off, and the anguish ran through her “I’m sorry,” Emma sobbed, “I’m sorry I didn’t stay when you asked. I promise, if you wake up, I will stay forever. I’ll never run from you… from us again. I love you, Killian.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed it gently.

“Sorry ma’am, we need to take him now,” someone said.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you when you’re done,” Emma whispered, then she gave Killian’s hand one more squeeze before she let the medical team take him away. Folding her arms across her middle she sat staring at the place his bed had been.

“You know, this won’t be where he comes back to,” a staff member told her as they began to clean up the room, readying it for the next patient.

“Where will he go?”

“Most likely to recovery up on the third floor.”

“Okay,” Emma responded, “do you know how long it will be?”

“Ask for Nurse French when you get up there. She’s a sucker for love, and will most likely tell you what room he is going to be in for the night. I’d settle in if I were you, it’ll be a bit.”

“Thank you!” Emma left the room and went to go find out where Killian would spend the night. The tip had paid off, Emma got a room number from the sweet nurse and then set off on a mission to occupy her time instead of waiting around to fret and worry.

♥E&K♥

Killian woke to semi-unfamiliar surroundings.  He blinked his eyes as he looked around. He recognized some of his belongings, more specifically, his Christmas belongings had thrown up in this room, but he hadn’t a clue whose room he was actually in.  Raising his hand to run it over his face, he stopped midway noticing the bracelet on his arm.  What the hell? he thought as he examined the piece of plastic. A hospital bracelet?

He looked around again and realized he was in the hospital. A noise turned his head, and he noticed someone standing in front of the window.  Emma!  Her back was turned to him, but she looked like an angel anyway. He admired her as she stood front of the window, surrounded by lights and holiday cheer. Abruptly everything came flooding back into his mind.  His plan to woo Emma, leaving his house, his brakes locking up on the ice when he was backing out of his driveway, and the accident. Hearing the noise again brought him to the present, and it dawned on him that she was crying.

“Don’t worry, love, I’m a survivor.” The words were barely more than a raspy whisper as his throat was parched.  He watched Emma whip around, an expression so beautiful on her face, his heart raced.  

“Killian,” Emma sobbed, relief washing through her entire being. She raced to his bedside and threw her arms around him.

“Easy, Swan,” he grunted as she connected with him, jarring every bone in his body.  

“Oh shit! Sorry. I just… Killian, I’m sorry,” Emma started. She sat up so she could look at him.  Sitting down beside him on his bed, she resolved herself to tell him exactly what she’d told him while he was unconscious, even if she muddled her way through it. Nerves be damned, I can do this, she encouraged herself. “I’m sorry I didn’t stay when you asked, I just-”

“I know, Swan,” Killian interrupted.  He stared lovingly into her eyes, trying to convey with just a look how much he understood, how he felt the same way.

“You do?”

“Aye, I heard you before they carted me off.  I thought I’d dreamed it.”

Emma cupped his cheek in her hand, running her thumb affectionately back and forth. “No, Killian it wasn’t a dream. And I want you to hear it, to hear me, you deserve that much. Especially for putting up with my shit.”

Killian chuckled at her colorful language. “I love putting up with your shit, Emma Swan.”

“Shut up and let me finish, Jones.”

“The romance is palpable,” he mock whispered with an adorably wide smile taking over his whole face.

She giggled despite the serious moment she was trying to have with him, and her tears that threatened to spill forth. Even with the bruises and the stitches he was beautiful, especially when that smile was just for her.

“I should have stayed last night. I wanted to stay last night. I just panicked, like I always do. I need you, Killian. You are the best part of my life. I’ve been torn for years between what we have and wanting more. The thing that always stops me is that I can’t lose you. But I’m done, I’m done worrying about the what-ifs. I don’t want to regret that I never took that leap of faith fifty years down the line, and I know I will. I would rather take a chance on the greatest love I’ve ever felt, than play it safe for one minute more.”

Killian couldn’t help the tears that welled in his eyes. He’d waited so long for Emma to come around. To take a chance with him. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear you say those words, Emma. I promise, you won’t ever regret taking a leap of faith for us.” He found himself more taken over with emotion than he thought possible, and his tears unashamedly trailed down his cheeks. Emma caught one with her thumb, wiping it away, before leaning in to kiss him.

Emma’s tears finally broke free as they kissed, and she could taste the saltiness of their mixed tears. She rested her forehead delicately to his when she needed to breathe. “Killian, I was so scared. When I thought of what could have happened. What if I’d never gotten the chance to tell you how I feel?” A quiet sob escaped her as she once again felt the fear that had gripped her when she saw his wrecked car this morning.  

“I told you, love, I’m a survivor.”

“I know, but if I’d stayed, none of this would have happened. Now you’re in the hospital for the holidays. I went to your place while you were sleeping to grab your snowman apocalypse and decorate your room.”

“The first thing I noticed when I woke was Christmas had thrown up in this room. I love it, Swan.”

“I love you, Killian. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Emma.” The words were slightly choked up as he absorbed what she’d just said to him. “Can I say it back?”

“Say what?”

“May I tell you that I love you, have loved you for a very long time, without you fleeing the scene like my assailant this morning?”

“Yes, Killian, tell me,” she whispered.

“Thank the gods, Swan, because I’m not sure which hit and run hurt more, you or the car,” Killian teased.

Emma chuckled lightly, but knew that he probably wasn’t joking.  “No more running, I promise, now tell me.”

“I love you, Emma.”

♥E&K♥

One week later

Everyone was stood around David’s obnoxiously large television, mesmerized as the ball began it’s infamous drop, signaling the end of an era and the coming of a new and fresh year. All but Emma and Killian, who stood gazing at each other as the countdown began. She had her arms resting on his shoulders, loosely clasped around his neck, while he’d wrapped his arms around her waist.

10

As Emma looked into his eyes she remembered the relief she’d felt when she first saw him in the hospital.  Unconscious, but alive.

9

She thanked whatever gods might be listening that he’d only sustained minor injuries.  Some bruised ribs, a couple cuts on the forehead, a deep gash along his left wrist and forearm that had almost been deadly, and one roguish knick on his right cheek. He’d been beyond lucky there hadn’t been more extensive damage.

8

Emma tensed a little thinking about what could’ve been, but quickly felt the tension fade, knowing David and his partner had caught the idiot that had been driving home drunk that morning and plowed into the driver’s side of Killian’s car. She relaxed even further when he smiled at her and rubbed his hand up and down her back.

7

Killian chuckled a little when Emma shivered as he caressed the length of her back. She was wearing a little black number, a backless halter dress with the epitome of a plunging neckline. He hadn’t wanted to leave the house when she’d shown up wearing it to pick him up for the party. His car was still in the shop so she’d offered to chauffer him around town in the interim.  

6

A rush of excitement zipped through Killian when he thought about how they’d soon be driving most places together, as Emma had agreed to move in with him. Along with the gifts they’d already had for each other, Killian had slipped a little box under the tree sometime between when they arrived home from the hospital Christmas morning, and when they opened gifts that afternoon.  In the box was a house key and a note asking her to move in with him.  Although some might’ve thought it was quick, they’d been in love so long that it really was just the natural next step. Her lease was up at the end of the year, he owned his home; it was a no brainer.  Most of her things had made their way over to his place during the past week, and tomorrow they would grab the rest.

5

A different type of rush zipped through Killian when Emma ran a finger around the shell of his ear before caressing it’s lobe. She leaned toward his other ear and whispered into it, “I can’t wait for you to take me home.”

4

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Swan, I hardly think my erection is something this crowd wants to ring in the new year with. Don’t be a bloody tease, love, you know I’ve been waiting for this for literal years.” With his ribs banged up, the doctor had said no physical activities for two weeks. They’d decided a week was long enough.

3

“I’ve been waiting for this too,” she said quietly, still talking into his ear. “Waiting, and wanting, and thinking about this,” she purred, barely thrusting her hips against his. “Sometimes I’d lay in bed thinking about you for so long, that I’d slip my fing-”

2

Emma was cut off abruptly by Killian’s hand over her mouth. “I’d have kissed you silent, but I’m waiting for the-”

1

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” everyone chimed together. All but Killian and Emma who were already kissing hungrily. Emma’s arms were locked around Killian’s neck and both her hands were carding through his hair. Killian had one hand gripping her hip, and the other massaging her bare lower back.

“Get a room!” Mary Margaret shouted.

“Can we use yours?” Killian asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I already have plans for that bedroom tonight,” David announced, swiftly swatting his wife on the ass.

“David!” Mary Margaret giggled.

“Well then, if we can’t use yours, best we better get home to ours.” Emma emphasized her point by breaking from the embrace of Killian’s arms to hug the host and hostess goodnight while wishing them a happy new year.

“Thanks for an entertaining evening, mate,” Killian told David, shaking his hand. The next thing he knew, he was sucked into a patented Mary Margaret hug. “Take good care of her, okay?” she whispered into his ear.

“I plan to,” Killian answered his potential future sister-in-law.

Emma linked her arm through Killian’s and started to pull him toward the front door. “Alright, alright, enough with the warnings,” she laughed. “We all have other more enjoyable activities to see to.”

“Too true, darling.”

They both said their goodbyes to the other party guests as they made their way to leave. Catcalls were tossed their way as everyone knew why the couple was darting out, only minutes after ringing in the new year.

“Get me home, Jones,” Emma demanded once they were in the car.  She placed her hand on his thigh and began kneading higher.

“You’re going to get the both of us in an accident if you keep up the shenanigans.”

Emma laughed at his warning, “Just drive.”

♥E&K♥

The moment the door was catapulted open, Emma launched herself into Killian’s arms. His breath was knocked from him with the force of her attack, and even with the discomfort it caused his ribs, he couldn’t imagine a better feeling than Emma’s body pressed to his.  

“I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?” Emma immediately released the vise-like grip her thighs had around his waist, signaling him to put her down.  

“No love, my rib cage is still just a little tender. Nothing I can’t handle if it means I get to hold you in my arms.”

Emma’s megawatt smile warmed his heart. “Take me to bed, Killian.”

“As you wish.”

He took her hand in his and led her to the bedroom. Shutting the door behind them, he pressed her against it and took her lips in a steamy kiss.  His hands drifted from her waist, over her hips, and further down her thighs until he could feel skin.  “So soft,” he murmured.  Killian trailed his hands back up her thighs, this time under her dress, appreciating the feel of her warm skin. When he reached her ass, he gave both cheeks a firm squeeze, eliciting a soft moan from Emma.  The sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his cock, and he squeezed her again. “Such a fine ass, Swan.”

Feeling the spark of arousal from her nipples all the way down to her clit, all she could manage was a breathy request for more.  She pulled Killian’s tongue into her mouth and sucked on it as if it were his dick. Rubbing her hands over his chest, Emma set to work on the buttons of his shirt. Finding herself impatient, she began to just pulled at his shirt.

“Someone’s in a rush,” he teased.

“Oh please, you know you want it just as bad.”

“Aye,” he answered, “only I have much easier access than you.” To prove his point Killian moved his hand from where it still palmed her ass around to the front of her panties and gently fingered the slickness he found waiting.  “Christ, Emma, you’re killing me.”

“I’ve been wet for you all night, Jones, my panties are ruined, and if you don’t put something inside me, I’m going to scream.”

“As long as it’s my name you’re screaming, I’m okay with it.”

Emma rolled her eyes, then placed her hand over his and guided his fingers to her entrance. She pressed his middle finger with hers and slowly both their fingers slid inside. “Oh fuck, finally,” she muttered.

Killian stared at Emma, eyes closed in pleasure, bottom lip bitten into with her teeth. He was frankly quite shocked that both of their fingers were inside her, it was hot as fuck, and-

“Move,” she commanded while thrusting down on their fingers, and pushing up into herself.

Killian snapped out of his stupor and set to the task of getting Emma off, and quickly if he could because just this very act was threatening to have him coming in his pants.  He let her grind on their hands and set the pace, while he unfastened the strap of her dress, baring her breasts. “Fuck me,” he growled.

“That’s the idea.”

“Snowmen… they’re snowmen.”

“What?” Emma looked down to see what Killian was staring at. “Oh yeah, they’re pasties, you know, so I didn’t have a nip slip in public.” She spoke as if this were run of the mill conversation, still working herself up higher. “I know your affinity for snowmen, so I couldn’t resist.” She removed her hand from his, then brought her fingers to his mouth.

Killian immediately added a second finger to compensate for Emma’s loss. When she presented her finger to him, he quickly sucked it into his mouth. Divine. He knew she would be though.

“If you’re still hungry, the pasties are edible,” she giggled.  Her giggle was interrupted by her own deep moan as Killian immediately latched onto one of her nipples and sucked deeply while still fingering her. The way her swollen walls sucked at his fingers made him long to be buried in her.  He quickened his pace and applied his thumb to her clit delicately. Emma’s whimpers and the tense set of her body told him she was close.  Every muscle in her body was working together as she rode his hand.

Feeling the pressure of her orgasm building low in her belly, Emma grabbed onto Killian’s shoulder. She needed support as her body rushed toward completion.  When he bit down on her nipple, she cried out as the sensation shot straight down to her clit and propelled her straight into orgasm.  She placed her hand over his again, halting his movements. She gently rocked against the solid pressure of his hand, riding out the pleasure. “Oh my god that was... I needed that.”

Killian was mesmerized by how beautiful total and complete arousal became Emma. Her skin was pink, and although she had a light sheen of sweat on different areas of her body, a small layer of chills covered her skin.  Her eyes were bright, and her hair was wild. “Bloody hell, I love you,” he cursed before attacking her lips again.  

Emma pushed herself off the door, guiding them both toward the bed.  Reaching the foot of the bed, Emma grabbed at Killian’s belt and began undressing him.  She made quick work of his clothes, having him bared for her perusal in under a minute.  “Killian.”

“Yes, my love?”

“I love this,” she said, running both hands generously over the chest hair that covered his skin and muscle.  “And this,” she added, grazing her nail down the trail leading to the promised land.  “But this?” she purred, wrapping her hand around his dick, “this is goddamn gorgeous.” She pumped him firmly, relishing the guttural moan that sounded from deep within his chest.  Emma felt fresh arousal as she admired his length, he was hot and thick in her hand, and hard as a rock. “I don’t know if I want to jerk you off, taste you, or fuck you, Jones. I want it all.”

“And you shall have it all, I promise. But tonight, let me love you, Emma.” He held his breath after he spoke the words. He knew she’d promised no more running, but he still worried some words would scare her. He wasn’t holding back though, he wanted to make love to her, and he wasn’t going to hide it, he was going to trust her.  

Emma’s eyes widened. She was so turned on and worked up she hadn’t considered he’d want to take it down a romantic path. A flutter went through her heart as it swelled for this man. “Okay,” she whispered. “Make love to me, Killian.” The smile on his face in response was enough to melt her completely. “I love you.”

“And I you,” Killian returned as he gently pulled her dress and panties over her hips and let them fall to the floor.  “Stunning,” he murmured, staring at her naked form. He got onto the bed, resting on his knees and grabbed her hand to pull her up. Bringing her into his embrace, he gently kissed her lips; wrapping one arm around her waist, and cupping one of her breasts in his free hand, he easily laid them both down on the bed.

Killian placed a trail of kisses along the column of her throat and sucked at the sensitive skin, careful not to leave any marks.  Continuing further down he reached her breasts and laved careful attention upon them, he made sure to feast his fill until the snowmen pasties were gone.  

Emma sighed in pleasure as Killian paid homage to her breasts. She’d always had very sensitive breasts and was damn near coming again. She could feel the rhythmic thrust of his dick against her thigh, and she wanted nothing more than to feel it inside her. “Killian, I really need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

Who was he to deny her anything? Situating himself in the cradle of her thighs, Killian placed her legs around his hips.  His cock twitched when he saw the glistening arousal that coated Emma’s folds. Fuck me. Lining up at her entrance, he pushed into her slowly. It was like heaven, or at least what he hoped heaven would be like, as the sensation of Emma’s warmth surrounded him. When fully seated inside her, Killian waited for her to adjust.  

Emma inhaled sharply at the sting. It’d been awhile, outside of her vibrator, which was most assuredly not as endowed as Killian Jones.  She reached up to caress his cheek, then urged him toward her. She kissed him soundly before whispering, “I’m ready.”

He looked into her eyes and could see that she didn’t only mean for this, but for anything and everything. Emma Swan was ready. He kissed her this time while slowly pulling out of her and then driving back home.  Killian kept a languid pace, enjoying the tight, wet caress along every inch of his dick as he pumped in and out of her. He felt her hands snaking around his waist before she cupped his arse and urged him to go harder.

“So good, Killian.”

“Gods, Emma, you feel so good wrapped around me.”

He started thrusting harder with Emma’s prodding. His cock was buzzing, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck were standing on end, and his nipples tightened along with his balls.  He was close, but he really wanted to bring her off with him.  He lightly toyed with her clit, “I want you to come again, Emma.”

She nodded her head vigorously, she couldn’t imagine a better idea than coming again.  Her gaze was focused on his, the blue barely visible in his state of arousal.  “Make me come, Killian.”

Killian’s hips snapped to hers in a particularly arduous thrust, and he kept that pace when she cried out, spurring him on. He watched as her body began to flush again, and her breasts bounced each time he bottomed out. He could feel the moment Emma fell over that edge, her walls tensed and began to suck his cock.  The glide of her walls against his shaft  was immeasurably pleasurable. The tightening on the head of his cock as he tried to bury himself deeper within her had him calling out her name as he began to come. He could feel the intensity with which he came as he spilled hot burst after burst into her. He thrusted home several more times until he felt his arms start to go weak with post orgasm haziness.  

Killian rolled them both over so that he wasn’t crushing her, and they were still connected.  He didn’t want to give up the sensation of Emma wrapped around him in the most intimate of ways quite yet.  

“That was…”

“Our new nightly ritual,” Emma finished for him.  

Killian laughed out loud. “As you wish.”

[kaistrex]

Thanks to @jadorehale for tagging me! ^-^

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers (◠‿◠✿)

I think this is fun, and will add to the meme “and say why you like them especially” because I always love to hear writers talk about their work.

1. Find Me Sitting Fireside | 13,282w | Teen

With the news that an Alpha wants Beacon Hills for their own, Derek and Stiles are forced to attend a couples retreat at a ski resort to learn their enemy's identity. However, the threat is the least of Derek's problems when he's expected to fake a relationship, share a bed and suffer through candlelit dinners with the man he's secretly been in love with for the past four years.

This fic wouldn’t exist without TroubleIWant’s Find Me Sitting Poolside. After reading that fic, the idea for this one wouldn’t let go!

The reason this is my favourite fic I’ve written is because of the feeling I had while I was writing it and how that feeling comes back whenever I reread it. It makes me feel all warm and cosy and the smell of the banana bread Yankee Candle I bought just before I started writing this always makes me feel nostalgic to read it again.

2. Full Circle | 19,557w | Mature

Stiles wakes face to face with the muzzle of a black wolf and he does the only thing any sane person would do in such a situation: he screams.

A hand – a furry, claw-tipped but human-shaped hand – comes up to cover his mouth. He follows it with his eyes to a furry wrist disappearing into the sleeve of a leather jacket, up to broad shoulders and to the head of the wolf looming over him sprouting from the collar of a Henley.

A wolf. Wearing clothes.

Stiles sags backwards with relief. It’s okay. He’s just dreaming.

–

All Stiles had wanted to do was warn a newly-returned-to-town Derek Hale that some unsavoury-looking men had put a target on his back. Instead, he gets kidnapped, turned into some sort of human-fox hybrid by a spell gone wrong and, oh yeah, werewolves are a thing.

This is all Scott’s fault.

One of my main worries with this fic was making sure the growth of their relationship felt natural for them to go from almost-strangers to kissing with believable feelings in just a few days of knowing each other, and I was actually pleased with the result. Writing the dynamic between Baseball Cap and Crew Cut was a lot of fun too (and getting to be deliciously evil writing Kate!)

(This of course wouldn’t have existed without klimt’s gorgeous art!)

3. The | 3816w | General

Snippets of the lives of four-year-old Derek and baby Stiles as they grow up together.

Forever ongoing.

My favourite thing about this one is the constraint of keeping each chapter to just a few hundred words that I subconsciously put on myself. Writing kid!Sterek is a great stress reliever too (which is funny considering I always said to myself I’d never write a kidfic >_>)!

4. A Bud Beginning to Flower | 5313w | Teen

Little seven-year-old Cora is next in line, peering up at Stiles from where she stands clutching at her big brother's hand.

“Where’s your crown?” she asks in that blunt manner most children seem to possess.

“Cora,” Derek chides, his voice smoothed with fondness.

“I just want to know if he has a pretty crown!”

Stiles crouches down. “I bet it’s not as pretty as yours, Your Highness,” he says, taking her hand and kissing it.

Cora flushes with pride and beams. She tugs on her brother's hand, looking up at him as she extends her other to point at Stiles, finger an inch away from his face. “I want you to marry him."

I always get nervous when signing up for a writing exchange in case I struggle to come up with something for the prompt/tropes my giftee wants, but for this one I was really lucky to get someone who requested a Royalty AU.

I didn’t originally plan for Derek and Stiles to get off on such a wrong foot, but it was fun having them be surprised at finding common passions after the divide that sprung up between them. My favourite bit is probably during Derek’s confession when he says Stiles probably thought he was stuck up and unpleasant at their first meeting and Stiles just says, “You are.” Poor Derek lol

5. Where the Real Beasts Are | 4486~w | Explicit

Crown Prince Stiles is gifted a direwolf on his eighteenth birthday by King Gerard I of Venatia. The only instruction? Never remove the collar.

Stiles never has been one to do as he’s told.

I’ve only just started posting this one and there’s only one chapter done so far, but it’s a fic that’s been sitting at the back of my mind for the past year so it feels great to finally focus on it and get it out there. I want to take my time and make sure I’m as confident in each chapter as I am this first one.

(If tumblr will let me) I’m going to tag: @theproblemwithstardust, @uzercalo, @inkandblade, @troubleiwant, @welshwoman1988, @froggydarren

[poca-staks]

Journey into Night

Happy Rumbelle Chrismas in July. ❤❤❤ 🎅😊🎁My giftee was @annythecat .Her prompt was Post Finale, Dark Realm, School. It was so much fun writing this action packed, heartwarming story for you Anny. You’re probably one of the most sweetest and nicest person I’ve had the pleasure to get to know and write for. So anyway I hope you enjoy your gift. Non- beta, I own all the mistakes. Everything takes place after the 6x22. Enjoy.

Summary: A deadly threat, that has already rocked Storybrooke once before, has returned, and its eyes are set on the son of Belle and Rumplestiltskin.

Rating: T

Words: 6795

(Ao3)

It started as a tingle while having dinner at Granny’s. A pestering itch that he couldn’t reach, and never becoming more than a mere annoyance that pecked at the back of his mind. Something was wrong. But everything was right. His mother was gone, the curse was broken, and the Enchanted Forest remained intact. He pushed the thoughts aside when he looked down at the little babe in his arms, his son, then over to his wife Belle who’d forgiven him more times than he deserved. She was so proud of him, of the man he became and of the choices that he’d selflessly made for his family. Maybe it was the guilt of past mistakes getting to him, almost trusting his mother’s curse that was supposed to keep his family safe. Or perhaps it was something else entirely, but as the merriment in Granny’s continued, his mind unceasingly went elsewhere and lingered in foreboding.

“Rumple?” Belle called softly, pulling her husband from his thoughts in the midst of the chattering townspeople. “Is everything alright?”

“Fine sweetheart.” He told her, telling himself just as much.

“Well, you’d stop eating and-.”

“Do you want to get out of here, Belle?” He interrupted with a subtle smile.

“I would.” She whispered. “I’ve had enough socializing for one day, and I think Gideon is due for his feeding.” She added, stroking a finger along the plump curve of her son’s cheek.

The couple, well trio with Gideon, bid their friends a farewell and everyone said their goodbyes as Belle and Rumple excused themselves out of the diner. As they drove home, Rumple couldn’t help but notice that the feeling was back and becoming increasingly intense. He wondered, thinking quietly to himself and going through all his enemies who could threaten his family’s life. His father: vanquished. Cora and Hades: dead. Zelena was still alive. No, she is without magic and has turned over a new leaf for the sake of her sister and her daughter. Rumple still shuddered at the thought of baby Robin’s conception. Who else? The Evil Queen was in a different realm as were the other Enchanted Forest citizens’ who sought to harm him and realm jumping was almost impossible, especially for non-magical people.

That just left one other person. Or should he say dust. His mother, Fiona was dead too, a pile of ash on the floor of his shop. He hadn’t even bothered to sweep her up after he destroyed her. After Belle had entered his shop, there was only one thing on is mine at the time and that was to save their son. Fortunately, after almost giving up hope, he did, and Gideon was returned to them safe and sound. On their way out of the cave, they pass by his mother’s lair. A dwelling in the cave filled with magical crystals and gems that are mined for fairy dust. He thought about destroying her lair and being done with all and any remnants of his mother. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Something deep down inside of him wanted his mother. Her last words to him, well the last ones he could to hear, was that all she wanted was him and to be a family. He wanted that to be true, and perhaps some essence of it was, but she betrayed him from the moment he was born and then again three hundreds of years later, and he wasn’t going to fall for her sweet words again.

However, something did catch his eye, his baby blanket woven in gold wool and neatly folded next to her things. He took it with him and gave it to his own son and Belle swaddle him tightly into it.

“I think he likes it, Rumple.” Belle had said as Gideon cooed and yawned in his mother’s arms.

“Wonderful. At least my mother was good for something.” He’d told her as they exited the caves.

Gideon was still wrapped cozily in the blankets hours later as they drove home from Granny’s. When they made it home, Belle heated up some milk under warm water, before testing the temperature on her arm. It was perfect not too hot nor cold, a perfect temperature that matched her own body’s heat. After feeding, it was time to burp him, and Rumple could handle that. They took turns with Gideon to ensure that he would bond with both of his parents. Once all the bubbles from Gideon’s tummy were all gone, he yawned with a small squeak. Together, they both went to his room for bedtime. Rumple rocked him in his arms as Belle read him a story. Gideon’s eyes shifted between the both of them until his lids lowered and he was sound asleep. Belle placed a soft kiss on his temple, and Rumple put him gently into his crib.

Xox0xox

Later that evening, the dark showroom of Gold’s shop began to rumble. The antiques in the glass cases and on the shelf that lined the walls rattled and trembled from some unknown force. Lights flickered even though the power to the pawn shop was off and obscure, eerie noises from an unmanned phonograph in his back office began to play. On the wooden floors, the dust fragments of the fallen black fairy started to vibrate and shift, then swirl and began to take form into black smoke. They floated through the keyhole and poured out from the other side of the door onto the streets of Storybrooke. The Black Fairy’s smoke drifted on twilight’s breeze past the sleepy town and through the dense forest. Passing over the toll bridge and until finally reaching a lone wishing well surrounded by fog. Deep in the woods, The Black Fairy’s smoke enters the well, making it gurgle and bubble. Two solid hands reemerge from its bowels, and a resurrected Fiona pulled herself from the well, dawning her fairy attire, black as a crow.

“My own son thought he could get rid of me.” She chuckled to herself. “Oh Rumple, darkness isn’t snuffed out that easily.”

She shuddered and stretched out her black, dragon-fly like wings, making sure all her magic was intact. “Now, to retrieve what’s mine.”

xox0xox

“Are you sure everything’s okay Rumple?” Belle asked, between the passionate kisses from her husband.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Rumple whispered, sending his breath into her skin, giving her chills and making her goose pimples appear where his lips had been.

Gold kissed her neck and ran his hand down the length of her hips and thighs as Belle bit her lip, loving every minute of what he was doing to her. It had been a few hours since they kissed and even longer since he’d touched her in this way. Gods, he missed this. Her soft skin, her moans, and the way she lightly bit his bottom lip when they kissed. Those dreadful thoughts couldn’t penetrate through now that his mind swam in ecstasy.

He moved his hand over her belly, caressing the smooth skin of her mid-drift. His hand moved further down to the hem of her panties, but just before he could dive deeper into her heaven, Belle grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Before we do this, I should go check on Gideon one last time.” She said with half lidded eyes.

He gazed at her with longing. “He’ll be okay Belle. Stay,” he told her, kissing her more eagerly.

“It won’t take me long. I just want to make sure he’s still sleeping.”

Rumple groaned and pulled his arm from around her and turned onto his back, looking like a child whose parents had refused him candy. Belle kissed his browline and got up from the bed. She threw a robe around her body and went to the nursery. She peeked through the cracked door and saw the small hump of her son underneath his blanket. She smiled and quietly tiptoed into her son’s bedroom. When she reached the crib to make sure he was covered warmly, she noticed that the gold baby blanket that her husband gave their son was gone. She flipped the covers back to reveal that he wasn’t there, and the hump that she thought was his body, was only a pillow.

“N-no. no, no.” She scrambled around the room looking for any signs of her son, but there was none, and she panicked.

“Rumple!” She cried out for her husband.

Xox0xox

To find Gideon, the Black fairy used the gold baby blanket as a beacon and stole him away from his parent’s home, just as easy as she did from that flying nat, Blue. If she couldn’t have Rumple or a family, then neither could he. It was a cruel thing to do, but it was what she longed for. The final battle was to ensure that she had everything she ever wanted. Her son and grandson, a family, a home, all the while still being able to hold onto her power. But Rumple didn’t want to be apart of that, too blinded by a useless bookworm to see that she was only looking out for his best interest. Well, her best interest.

When she made it back to the cave, she summoned a portal. The savior, Emma, had died only to be brought back to life by true loves kiss. So the portal to the Dark Realm remained open due to the Savior’s brief demise. Gideon began to cry, sensing the danger he was in, and Fiona tried to hushed the child’s sobs with a lullaby.

I cried and called my sweet Bairn’s name. But never saw sweet baby again..

But Gideon’s tears and wails did not cease. Fiona sighed. “Such a shame. That always worked on Rumple.” She said, placing the child into a wicker basket. “Cry all you want Gideon, like it or not, you’re my son now. I know I wasn’t much of a good mother before. I made a terrible mistake. I took control of your heart and forced you to love me, but now I know that only fear will make you love me.”

xox0xox

Rumple could only look down at the empty crib that once held his son. His blood ran cold in his veins, and the only thing he could think of was how much pain the person who did this was going to endure. But first thing first, he had to get control of the situation.

“This is my fault.” He said in soft, heartbroken words, clutching the crib’s wooden frame.

“Wh-what are you talking about Rumple?”

“Our son is gone, and it’s my fault. I wasted so much time trying to ignore my instincts when I should have been listening to its warning.”

“But you couldn’t have possibly known that this was going to happen,” Belle said, placing a comforting hand on her husband’s hand.

“I had a feeling and chose to overlook it because … I ..we were finally happy.”

“Rumple, this isn’t your fault. Whoever did this – whoever took our son is to blame, not you,” she assured him. “We have to figure something out. We have to get our son back.”

“My shop,” he said, a sense of hope present in his tone. “There may be something in there that will tell us who took him and where he is.”

Belle hugged her husband tight. It hadn’t even been a whole day that her family had gotten back together and now for a second time she’d lost her son. But at least she wasn’t facing this alone.

There was no more time to waste. Vengeance outweighed other tedious tasks like dressing and driving. Rumple waved his hand, and they appeared in his shop fully clothed. He walked over to a glass case that housed a secret compartment. Silently, he dove his hands into the drawer and pulled out a crystal ball with an iron raven’s claw for its stand. The three tali’ held the ball up right and kept it from rolling off the table. He placed his fingers on the glass and tried to concentrate.

Belle watched him silently, pacing the floor only a few feet from him as he gazed into the crystal orb.

“Do you see anything?” She asked.

He didn’t need magic this time to figure out what had happened. “It’s what I don’t see.”

“I don’t understand. You can’t find the person who took our son?” Belle ran to the crystal trying to make sense of what he was talking about, hoping to find some image that showed the whereabouts of her son, but when she looked into it, all she saw was.. nothing.

“When I killed my mother, she calcified and turned to dust.”

“I remember, her remains should be,” -all the color in Belle’s face left, and she appeared porcelain white when she turned to the place where The Black Fairy’s ashes were- “Rumple. They’re gone. Your mother is alive.”

“Indeed. And she has stolen our son.”

“But how is this possible?” Belle asked, with uncertainties. “How can she come back from death?”

“I’m not sure, but a similar thing happened to another Storybrooke resident.”

“Who? Maybe they can help.”

“I doubt she would be willing to help me, and besides her magic is gone. She wouldn’t be much help to us now.”

Belle thought to herself for a moment. “Zelena?” she asked, and Gold nodded yes. “Zelena came back from death?”

He had hoped to keep that a secret, but it was out now and addressing it was the only way to figure out how his mother came back from the dead.

Rumple took a deep breath and exhaled. “After I proposed to you, I made a visit to Zelena’s cell with the real dagger and killed her.” He sighed. The dissatisfied look on Belle’s face wasn’t making telling her the truth any easier. “But I should have known that it would have cost me a terrible price. When I was recovering in a New York hospital, she paid me a visit. She told me that she didn’t technically die, her life force simply fled and went searching for magic to fulfill her last task.”

“The time portal.” Belle clarified. “The one that sent Emma and Killian back in time. That’s why she disguised herself as Marion.”

“Yes. In Zelena’s case, her last task was to use the magical time portal to go back in time, and she was inevitably brought back to life, so to speak. In my mother’s case, she would use the wishing well. She knows of its magic, and how it can return things that were once lost.”

“That explains how she’s alive and walking around, but what is your mother’s last task?”

“To get the thing she always wanted but couldn’t ever have. A son.”

xox0xox

Time moved differently in the Dark Realm, and the sun never rose. It was always night in this realm. The stars didn’t even shine through the dark and lonely night skies. Only the moon provided light and gave him some ounce of time to show many months had gone by.

He could see the moon’s glow from his cell, and every time the moon was round and full, he knew another month had passed. Gideon had eleven birthdays since that evening his new mother brought him to his new home in the dark realm. He spent each day with his classmates, who consisted of 19 other unfortunate children stolen from their parents. Most days were spent doing chores around the school, and others were spent in the mines, digging for fairy dust until their hands blistered from repeated wacks at the solid wall of stone.

Every morning his new mother would wake the students up with an ear splitting alarm. The students had to promptly get up from their small cots and get dressed with their bedding neat and tidy all within five minutes. The ones that were too tired to get up from the previous day’s work received a punishment. Gideon didn’t know what that punishment was, but the screams of the other children he’d hear were enough to know that it wasn’t anything good. So Gideon made it a habit of waking up ten minutes before the alarm went off and always covered his ears when the other kids got punished.

Down in the mines under the school, the clanging of pickaxes hitting rocks over and over again was the only thing breaking the silence. Gideon’s hands were so sore. The blisters from last week hadn’t quite healed, and new ones were forming on top of the old ones. He dropped his ax, only for a moment, just to stretch and wiggle his aching fingers. Out of nowhere a tiny rock hit him on the head next to his temple. He heard some of the kids snicker over the sound of metal hitting rocks, but he couldn’t find the culprit who sent the pebble. After rubbing the spot where the rock hit him, he went back to making big rocks into smaller ones.

“Ouch.” He cried when another rock hit the back of his head.

“Mama’s boy.” One of the older kids said.

“She’s not my mom Jacob,” Gideon said, but the boy only tosses another, larger rock at him. “Stop it.”

“Or what? Your gonna cry to your mother that I’m picking on you.” Jacob said.

“She’s not my mom.”

“Oh yeah, then why does she call you her son?” One of the other boys spoke up. “Why is your room the only one with a window?”

Gideon shrugged, picking up his pickaxe to continue working. “I don’t know. Just is.”

“Just face it you love your whittle mommy, and she wuvs you back, mama’s boy.” Jacod mocked loftily.

Gideon had enough. On top of all the hard work that his fake mother was putting him through, he still had to put up with the other kids bullying. He ran over to Jacob and pushed him to the ground. Jacob managed to get to his feet, but he had a busted lip from falling on one of the rocks. The other children in the caves began to chant fight.

Jacob was a lot bigger than Gideon and made him reconsider pushing the older kid. The two boys circled each other, sizing the other up, as the other children chanted the same word over and over again, but just as Jacob was about to throw the first punch, he was swung back across the cave, hitting the rock enclosure.

“Now, Now. You weren’t thinking about striking my son, were you?” she asked calmly, like she hadn’t just thrown a 13-year-old into a stone wall. She sucks her teeth and then turns to Gideon. “Are you hurt, son?”

Gideon ignored her with a stubborn look, reminding Fiona just how much his actual mother resonated with him.

xox0xox

Gold realized that there was only one place where his mother would have taken his son, and that was to the Dark Realm where she could rule and gather more fairy dust for a new dark curse.

“How do we get there?” Belle asked her husband.

He only needed a second to think before his brain came up with a plan. Not long ago, he regained possession of a very powerful wand that was able to cross realms. Gold opened a secret safe behind a picture and inside was the Apprentice’s wand. Belle blushed and looked away. It had been the same wand she almost used to return to the Enchanted Forest.

She cleared her throat. “So this will help us get to the Dark Realm and get our son back?”

Gold nodded. “It should. But the wand will only work if the wielder possesses light and dark. So I’ll need your help.”

It had only been just weeks ago that this very same wand was supposed to separate him from his son, and now it’s being used to reunite him with his son. Funny how these things turn out, he thought to himself. They went to the center of the shop’s showroom and held hands as Rumple drew an outline of a door. Each stroke glowed with light until a black door with a red doorknob appeared in front of them. Gold tucked the wand inside his coat’s pocket and led Belle over the threshold and into another realm.

xox0xox

“Do you know why I asked you to come here, Gideon?” She asked, and he shook his head no. “Because I want to tell you that you’re right. I’m not your mother.”

Gideon’s eyes soften. He had been right all along. The wicked woman wasn’t his true mother, and his birth mother and father was out there somewhere looking for him, just like how he dreamt.

“It was unwise of me to keep the truth from you and lie to you.” She continued. “You deserve to know who your real parents are.”

Gideon’s eyes lit up. “Will you tell me?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” The Black Fairy asked distastefully, “Sometimes the truth is more painful than a merciful lie.”

Gideon nodded. For as long as he could remember he always wanted to know who his parents were and what they were like.

“You read a lot. I see you almost every day in your room reading some book.” Fiona said. “Have you heard of the Dark One?

He knew it. His father was a hero. He killed the Dark One and probably saved his mother from the evil fiend, or perhaps she helped. He always envisioned his mother as a brave warrior.

“Did my father slay the Dark One?”

Fiona giggled contemptuously, mocking Gideon’s question. “Oh that he did, and do you know what happened next?” Gideon smiled, waiting for her to finish the story, desperate to hear that he became a beloved hero, that his father and mother lived happily ever after. “After your father had killed the Dark One, he took his power, draining the very essence of the former Dark One until nothing was left, and your father became the new Dark One.”

Gideon’s smile faded, and he felt a hollow feeling in the pit of his chest. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Your father is the Dark One, the most powerful sorcerer in all the realms, and you’re his spawn.”

“I don’t believe you!” Gideon lashed out. The last thing he wanted to hear was that his father was more evil than the woman who kept him prisoner. “Prove it!”

“I don’t need to,” Fiona explained. “You and I, we share the same burden. He’s my son.”

He supposed it had to be true. What other reasons would she have to claim the Dark One as her son? “And what about my mother?”

“Hmmm? Oh yes, your mother. What would you like to know about her?”

Anything. Everything. “Who is she? What’s her name? Is she alive?”

“Slow down, child. One question at a time.” The Black Fairy said. “Your mother’s name is Belle, and she’s quite the looker. I suppose it was no wonder why the Dark One fell for a girl like her.”

That made him smile. “So she’s alive? Is she looking for me?”

“Yes dearie. You needn’t fear. She’s alive. But due to unfortunate circumstances that surrounded your father, she abandoned you, and if I hadn’t found you and graciously took you in, there was no telling what kind of life you would have lived. You could have died.”

“So my father is a monster, and my mother abandoned me,” Gideon said, feeling like his whole world got turned upside down.

“Quite. But I love you, always have.” Fiona said, trying to sound genuine. “Do you know why I make you and the other children work the mines?”

“No.”

“It’s because I want to leave this realm, with you as my son by my side. But I can’t, not without a curse. That’s what the fairy dust is for.” Fiona said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and walking away.

“But what about the other kids? What will happen to them when we leave?”

“I’m not sure, but maybe they will be okay,” Fiona said, but it was a lie. Once she left the Dark realm, this place would cease to exist, which in turn would kill the other children. “So, now that I told you the truth, do you trust me now?”

“I do. I want to leave this place and feel the sun. I want adventure.” Gideon said. “I’ll help you any way I can.”

Fiona’s lips formed into a soft smile, but her eyes still held a mischievous gaze. “Wonderful.”

xox0xox

As she took in the sight of her depressing surroundings, a feeling of hopelessness was burrowing its way into Belle’s thoughts. Every which way she turned there was nothing, just darkness. The trees in the forest they trotted through had no leaves, and the bark was black like decay. She heard no birds in the trees or the scurrying of small woodland creatures. When she looked up, there were no stars, just a black desolate sky. It made her shudder to think that this was where Gideon had once stayed for 28 years of his life. Her baby boy, stolen and kept in a place with so much isolation and darkness. And now he’s returned. And who knows how long he’s been here this time. Last time he had been gone a day, and in this realm, it had been equivalent to almost three decades. Luckily, it had only been an hour since she last seen Gideon, and perhaps that wouldn’t equate to the same degree. But how could she know for sure?

Gold stop walking when they reached a clearing and began sealing it with a protection spell.

“Why are we stopping?” Belle asked.

“We need to rest, Belle.” He said. “We won’t be much use to Gideon if we’re too tired to fight.” He said, gathering twigs and small rotted branches from the forest floor.

“But what about Gideon-” Belle reminded him. “I don’t want him to stay here another night, alone and scared. I want our son back.”

“Gideon will be fine for a few hours. I sense him, and the place he’s being kept in isn’t too far away.” Rumple explained. “He’s a brave kid. And besides, we need a plan.”

“You’re right.” Belle agreed.

Rumple set the wood a blaze. The fire crackled on the dry logs as the fingers of the flames waved in the cold air. He held out his hand towards her. “Come closer to the fire.”

Belle felt fortunate to be considered in his plans regarding their child. Before he used to exclude her and would try to take care of the act himself using some form of dark magic, but now he wanted her help and wanted to do things together as a team. She always knew that there was a man behind the beast.

He conjured a blanket that was big enough for the both of them and wrapped it around Belle’s shoulders making sure every inch of her was covered before joining her inside the blanket.

“Are you warm?” He asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” Belle said, looking into the flames and smiling. “You know, I’ve been camping before.”

“Really? I would have never suspected,” Rumple said, giving her a skeptical look, and Belle nudged her elbow into his side. “ What I meant was that you were royalty. A princess. You shouldn’t have been camping like a peasant.”

“Well, I did,” Belle said. “I had to if I was ever going to get back to you.”

Rumple’s head sagged. Sending Belle away wasn’t a pleasant memory he liked to remember. Things only got worst for the both of them. He slipped further into madness, and she got captured by the Evil Queen.

“I really enjoyed it.” Belle continued. “Out in nature, catching my dinner, building fires and pitching a shelter. I even met some really nice people along the way.” Belle said remembering Mulan and Prince Phillip. “I used to tell myself that when I made it back to you, we could have our own little camping adventure.”

Gold smiled. “Well, it would seem you got your wish.”

A log popped open and cracked in the fire, sending embers dancing into the sky. The couple laughed, and Belle rested her head on his shoulder.

“What about you?” Belle asked. “Have you ever been camping?”

“I have.” He said, regretfully. “When I was a soldier during the first ogres’ war. And once when I ran away from the old spinsters to look for my father.”

“Doesn’t sound like you had much fun when you went camping.”

“No.” He said. “But I am now.”

Belle sighed. “I doubt we can count this as fun. It’s technically a rescue mission.”

“It’s fun because we are doing it together. And we can take another one once we get our son back.”

That made her smile.

Xox0xox

Belle was able to sleep for a few hours before getting jarred awake by the sound of rustling. Rumple pressed a finger to her lips so that she couldn’t make any sudden noises. The fire had died, and only a small amount of black smoke stirred above the grey ashes.

“Who’s there?” Rumple said in a hard voice.

A hooded young figure stepped out of the brush of bushes with a bowed arrow pointed to towards the couple. “On your feet intruders.” He commanded, but they were hesitant to make any sudden moves. “Now!”

Rumple and Belle rose slowly from the ground, with their hands in the air to show they were unarmed and meant the person no harm.

“Who are you?” The man asked bravely and without an ounce of fear.

Belle kept her hands up in surrender. “We are parents who just wanted our son back. He was stolen from us by the Black Fairy.” Belle said calmly.

“What’s your son’s name?”

“Belle, enough of this. He’s not going to help us. He’s just some brainwashed minion of my mother,” Gold said, conjuring up a fire ball. One way or another he was going to get his son back.

Belle jerked his arm down. “Rumple, no. Hurting him is not going to get Gideon back.”

“How do you know that name?” The young man asked, pulling the string of his bow backwards and nocking the arrow in the couple’s direction. Belle noticed that his elbow was beginning to shake, and at any moment, he could let his arrow loose.

“He’s our son.” Belle managed to say. “Gideon is our son. Pl-please put the bow down. We mean you no harm.”

“If what you say is true and you are both his parents, then that would make him the Dark One.” The hooded figured said before aiming the tip of the arrow at Rumple, releasing his arrow to let it fly.

Belle wasn’t given any chance to react as the arrow flew towards her husband and struck him in the chest. The force made him stumble backwards, but luckily he didn’t lose his footing.

“You didn’t do all your research dearie. Because if you had, then you would know this wouldn’t have killed me.” Rumple said, pulling the arrow’s pointed tip from his chest. But as he tossed the arrow aside something black and sticky remained on his hand, and in seconds, he stiffened and hardened in place.

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.” The man threw back his hood and revealed himself. A thin boy with curly brown hair that swept over his forehead with brown eyes to match. Belle could recognize those eyes anywhere. They were just like his father’s, and she couldn’t keep herself from looking in them since the moment he was born.

“Gideon?”

The boy dropped his bow and arrow and ran to Belle, grabbing her by the hand. “We have to go, mother, the squid ink won’t last for long. I won’t let the Dark One hurt you.”

Belle stood her ground as her son tried to lead her away. “Gideon, he’s your father. He would never hurt you or me.”

“He’s the Dark One. He will hurt everyone.”

“Not anymore. He’s changed. We both came here to bring you home.”

“But the Black Fairy said-”

“She lied Gideon. She’s the evil one, not your father. The Black Fairy stole you from our home and before that, she cursed me to an awful life. One that made sure that I would never see you again.”

“Gideon, whatever my mother is telling you, she’s feeding you lies,” Rumple said straining to speak in his frozen state. “She severed my fate of becoming the savior and ruined my life, and now she is doing the same to you.”

“How do I know you both aren’t lying?”

It had only been hours since she last seen him, but for Gideon, it had been years since their separation. He needed some way of knowing how much they loved him.

“I can prove it,” Belle said before reaching into her husband’s pocket and pulling out a picture. It was a photo of the three of them when Gideon was just a small babe.

“And this baby is me?” Gideon asked, pointing to the baby in its father’s arms.

“Yes, sweetie that’s you,” Belle assured him.

Gold finally unfroze and when to stand next to his son. “I’m sorry. I-I.”

“It’s not your fault. And this isn’t the first time one of my sons used squid ink to immobilize me.” Rumple said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Think of it as a rite of passage.

"Are you ready to go home, dear?” Belle asked, tucking a bushy curl behind his ear.

“Yes. But- well I can’t.” Gideon stammered. “Not without help the other kids here.”

“There’s more of you?” Rumple asked, unaware and Gideon nodded yes. “My mother has been a busy woman.”

“Of course we’ll help the other children get home,” Belle said.

“Gideon, show your mother where the kids are. And I’ll make sure that my mother never leaves the Dark Realm again.”

“How do you plan to do that?” Belle asked, worrying that he would sacrifice himself as he did with his other parent. “I trust this won’t be too dangerous.”

“No, not at all,” Rumple said. “No magic, just a little something my sons taught me.”

xox0xox

Fiona paced the floor with an empty wine glass in her hand and wondered what was taking Gideon so long to find out who the intruder in the forest was. She refilled her glass up with the red liquid when she felt someone appear in her chambers behind her.

“Well, if it isn’t my least favorite son, Rumple.” She said with a sadistic smile.

“I’m your only son.”

“Is that so?” She said casually like this was a conversation.

“Yes, and I won’t let you condemn Gideon to the same fate as you did to me.” He growled through gritted teeth. He was done with his Mother’s game. He just wanted his son back, no matter the price.

“So you’ve come here to save him?” she cackled delightedly. “Have you forgotten? This is my realm, and no one leaves here unless I will it.”

“I sensed as much. I took a look around your little school, or should I say, your concentration camp. You won’t get that curse you’ve been working on done with children mining for fairy dust. Only dwarfs can.” Rumple saw the change in his mother’s expression. He had her attention.

She tapped her fingernails on the side of her wine glass impatiently. “They’re basically the same thing, runt bastards that like to complain. Not much of a difference I’m afraid.”

“But they’re never going to get what you need,” Rumple said, taking a step closer to her. “But I can.”

Fiona smiled. “Is that a deal I smell?”

“It’s more like a trade. Release the children and my son-” He said, pulling out his dagger by the blade. “-And you can have me.”

Fiona’s eyes grew large as they traced the outline of the dagger. “You would give up your freedom just for a few measly children?”

Rumple nodded solemnly. “Is it a deal?”

The dagger flew from Rumple’s hand and across the room to of the Black Fairy, with the hilt in her palm. “Deal.”

Fiona smiled and gazed over the Dark One’s dagger like it was her new favorite toy. Rumple was hers, and he was the Dark One to boot. Now she had everything she needed to enact her curse that would enslave humanity in every the realm. She finally had it all. She finally had everything she wanted.

She gasped. “No, What- what’s happening.” Fiona cried. Her arm stiffened, and she lost the ability to use it as a poisonous spell crept over her body. When she finally realized that it was coming from the inky dagger, she dropped it to the ground. Unfortunately, it was far too late.

xox0xox

Belle, Gideon, and the rest of the children waited in the forest just outside of the thick walls of the school. The kids were scared when Belle came to save them. Most of them thought it was some kind of trick, and if they went with her the Black fairy would punish them. Luckily Gideon was there to persuade them that this was his real mother and she was going to take them home. They managed to get all the children out, and the protection spell withdrew from around the school, enabling them to leave. Belle kept them quiet and calmed while waiting for her husband who she hoped was alright.

One of the younger boys began to cry, he was only 4 and didn’t understand what was going on. Belle comforted him with a story, and even the other children’s fear began to fade while listening to her. After a few more stories, Rumple appeared and hugged her, happy to see that Belle and his son were safe. He explained to Belle that once they were back in Storybrooke, he would talk with Emma about sending the children back to their respective homes.

“We don’t have much time. The squid ink will be wearing off soon.” Rumple said, reaching into his pocket for the Apprentice’s wand.

Belle watched him summon the portal, and looked back at the ominous school’s Gideon looked and wrapped his arms around his mother’s waist, burying his face in her stomach. Belle stroked his soft hair protectively as the door to the portal open. “But Rumple, won’t she just follow us?”

Rumple tucked the wand back into his pocket. “No, once we are out of this realm, I’m closing any portal to this land off for good.”

One by one, all the children entered the portal that placed them back in Gold’s shop. Rumple waited to be last, ensuring that the children made it before he sealed off the realm. Once he was safely inside his shop, Gold cast a banishment spell, locking the Dark Realm from ever being open again.

xox0xox

The next morning, Belle and Rumple were watching their eleven-year-old son wolf down a healthy portion of breakfast. They weren’t sure about how he was going to react to the question that kept them up for a better part of the whole night, but it wasn’t fair to either of them if they made this decision without first consulting with their son.

“Son,” Rumple said, and Gideon popped his head up chewing a mouthful of food. “Your mother and I wanted to ask you something.”

Gideon swallowed the remainder of the food he had in his mouth, then picked up his glass of milk and washed it down. “Okay, what did you want to ask?”

“Well as you know, you were only a baby when the Black Fairy stole you from us,” Belle said, and Gideon nodded yes. “We missed so much of you growing up, like your first word, and your first steps.”

“You want to turn me back into a baby?” Gideon asked, completely aware of where this conversation was heading.

“Well, it’s up to you.” His father said. “We won’t force you to do something you don’t want to do. If you wish to stay eleven, then we would still be perfectly happy.”

“We just want you to be happy,” Belle added.

Gideon bowed his head, making Belle worried that they might have upset him by talking about changing him back. But to their surprise, he looked up at them and smiled.

“Okay. If I’m a baby again, that means I won’t have to go to school for a few more years,” he said, and his parents laughed.

THE END  😊

[starspangledsecretsanta]

Here are all the amazing gifts given in week 1!

Title:A Christmas Waif Type of work: Fic

Word count: 20K Pairings/Characters: James 'Bucky' Barnes/Steve Rogers Rating: Teen Giftee: @bangyababy Warnings: Grief/mourning. Off-screen character death from illness Summary: While driving in a middle of a snow storm, Steve Rogers ends up stranded at a small-town diner in New Sokovia, two hours away from his destination of Ithaca, New York.

The diner's owner, Freddie Barnes, and her son, Bucky, rescue Steve and take him home to wait until the storm passes. Giving lost travelers a safe place to stay is a Barnes' family tradition. They even have a name for these people: Christmas waifs.

The Barnes family are open, warm and inviting, and Steve quickly falls in love with Freddie, George, Rebecca and Rachael, and especially Bucky, who was once a Christmas Waif himself.

But Steve has a secret grief that won't let him stay with Bucky or his family, no matter how close it is to Christmas, or how much he doesn't want to leave. Or how badly his leaving will break Bucky's heart...

Read it here!

Title: Cinnamon Type of work: Moodboard and Fic Word Count: 5.7K Pairings/Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers Rating: Explicit Giftee: @marvelling-you (tourmalinex) Warnings: A/B/O Summary: "You know me, Bucky," Steve said. "I'm your Omega. I've loved you my whole life."

See and read it here!

Title: Dream Me Off My Feet Type of work: Fic Word count: 7.8K Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Okoye Rating: Explicit Giftee:  @debwalsh Warnings: None Summary: When Bucky decides to woo his co-worker, Steve Rogers, he's only sure of one thing. It's either the best, or the worst idea he's ever had.

Read it here.

Title: taking chances Type of work (art/fic/etc): fic Word count: 5K Pairings/Characters: Steve/Bucky Rating: E Giftee:  @crescendohno Warnings: none Summary: Bucky didn’t know if what he was doing was wrong or right, he just knew that it had to be done. He knew that he had to get close to Steve, figure him out, figure himself out. He knew that he could only be with Steve once his mind was working a little better. He would never be perfect, but asking to be a little bit better was not unrealistic.

He had a plan. A plan to get them back to being SteveBucky. BuckySteve. One unit.

Read it here!

Title: A Way Home Type of work (art/fic/etc): Fic Word count: 10K Pairings/Characters: Steve/Tony Rating: Mature Giftee: @xxdustnight88 Warnings: None Summary: Tony and Steve find themselves stranded on another planet with no idea how they got there and no idea how to get home. A day turns into two, then three, a week turns into a month, and then two months, and still, there’s no solution in sight. They make their new paradise planet home, with plenty of food and water, and a comfortable place to sleep. When Steve is caught in a plasma storm, Tony must redouble his efforts before the next one threatens to tear them apart. Literally.

Read it here!

Title: The Gift That Keeps On Giving Type of work: art Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes & alpine Rating: G Giftee: the0dyssey Warnings: none Summary: Steve mentioned he'd like a nice photo for his desk at work... Bucky decided to be a smart ass about it!

See it here!

Title: The Secret Garden Type of work: fic Word count: 9.5K Pairings/Characters: Steve/Bucky Rating:  T Giftee:  WinterSabbath Warnings: Mention of child abandonment Summary:  When young Bucky Barnes sneaks into a hidden, walled garden at the Southern Palace, he discovers a new world in the heart of Prince Steve Rogers.

Read it here!

Title: Gingerbread & Highlighters Type of work (art/fic/etc): Fic Word count: 5.8K Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Rating: G Giftee: @gremlin-writing Warnings: None Summary:

He stole another glance at the big guy at the back table and tilted his head consideringly.  The guy looked like he was attempting to glare his notebook into submission.  Too bad studying never seemed to work that way.  Big Guy seemed to realize that at the same time because he huffed and shoved his hand irritably through his hair again--somehow managing to avoid dislodging the marker tucked behind his ear--and dropping his pen on top of the notebook to rub at his eyes.

Read it here!

Title: Holding the Mantle Type of work (art/fic/etc): art Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Rating: G Giftee: @bloodspeckledraphael Warnings: none Summary: What Jarvis sees as he checks on our favorite supersoldier

See it here!

Title: you are the angel atop my tree, you are my dream come true Type of work: fic/art Word count: 2.6K Pairings/Characters: Sam Wilson/Steve Rogers Rating: Teen and Up Giftee: cinni Warnings: No warnings apply Summary: Sam and Steve spend Christmastime together through the years.

See it here!

Title: The Right Partner Type of Work:  Fic Word Count: 7.5K Pairing:  Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Rating:  M Giftee:  @trekchik​ Warnings: None Summary:  Steve Rogers is an alpha out of time, possessing a weird genetic anomaly that’s essentially disappeared from humanity in the 21st century. It’s never bothered him, and he’s grown to believe he’s more ace than anything else.

Until a stray encounter brings on his rut in the most embarrassing way ... and finds a young New Yorker discovering some new and not necessarily wonderful things about his body.

And when the two meet ... could it be that Steve has finally found his right partner after all?

Read it here.

Title: Freedom to Celebrate Type of work: Fic + Cover Art Word count: 2.6K Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Rating: Teen & Up Giftee: @novaofavalonia​ Warnings: Light Angst Summary: Hoping to cheer up Tony, Steve plans a Christmas Eve in New York City.

See it here!

Title: Stucky Holiday Type of work: Art Pairings/Characters: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes Rating: G Giftee: Squeaky Warnings: Light Angst Summary: Happy Holidays, Squeaky! I couldn't decide which of your "wants" to draw, so I ended up kind of drawing all of them lol. Stucky, soulmates, ghost story, hurt/comfort. They are each in their own chapter with a gif of all four at the end.I hope you enjoy them and have a great holiday season.

See it here!