#and jump right into Reading with a novel meant for kids twice your age!!

[beneathsilverstars]

my kid is getting so into the warrior cats it's so cute. she gets all dismayed whenever the cats do something mean or strict, she's always like "if i was there, i would let firepaw eat something, i would catch a mouse and give it to him." or "wow, yellowfang is SO mean, if i was a cat i would hiss and scratch her!" like yes queen go off!!! you would be the nicest warrior cat in the clan!

[dameronsgalaxygal]

I’ve Been Waiting For You - Chapter 3: Voulez Vous

series masterlist

Pairing: modern!poe x reader

Warnings: language, drinking, mentions and implications of past abusive relationship, light angst, things get steamy.

Word Count: 3176

Song Link: Voulez Vous

A/N: this took a really long time!! @rewritingstarrs and I filled the doc with notes/comments/suggestions and I still feel meh about it but hopefully it doesn’t disappoint!! don’t worry, things will be fine. don't forget to listen to the song! as always, feedback and comments are appreciated! taglist is open!

Summary: A night out in the city with your friends leads to the unexpected with Poe. 

The first few weeks in Florida had been pretty good. Your things were completely unpacked, your room decorated to your liking, and to your surprise, not one missed call from Kyle. Rey and Rose had toured you around Miami Beach, and as promised, Poe sent you the information for his aunt’s bookstore down at the shore.

You were walking down the beach with your roommates when you saw the little store across the street named “Solo Reads”.

“Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later. I’m gonna go look inside this bookstore” You pointed across the street.

“Sounds good, text me when you’re done.” Rey said before trailing off with Rose.

The bookstore was small and antique-style. It looked as though it had been in this location for hundreds of years, the walls slowly starting to fall apart, but it added to the aesthetic. The smell of polished wood and coffee flooded the room and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved it.

You walked around in admiration until a short older woman peeked from behind an aisle. “Hello, dear. Can I help you find anything?”

Smiling gently, you approached her. “Hi, I was actually wondering if you were hiring. Your nephew is a good friend of my cousins and he referred me to you.”

She smiled back. “Ah, yes. Y/N, is it? Just moved from New York?” You nodded.

“I’m Leia.”

“Pleased to meet you, Leia.” You stuck out your hand to shake hers and she took it, grabbing your hand with both hers, squeezing tightly.

“You as well, Y/N”, she let go of your hand before walking behind the small checkout desk. “So when can you start?”.

“Start?” You were confused. You had just met the woman and you hadn’t even been interviewed yet.

“You know, start working. I need someone to care for the books more than I can. These babies, they’re old. I’d like to make sure they live as long as possible. Some customers aren’t so gentle in handling them. You were an English major, right? I know you’d appreciate all of these as much as I do.” She brushed dust off of a couple books that were stacked on the counter.

You completely understood. You had collected old novels and magazines since you were a child. Your favorite book being Pride and Prejudice. The idea of someone disrespecting a piece of work that an author put so much dedication into made you sad. You looked around the store before turning to face Leia.

“Absolutely. I will make sure that this place and these books are in great shape all the time”. It was true. You loved and adored all forms of literature, so you would work so hard to keep the place organized.

She smiled. “I know we just met, and that I didn’t give you a proper interview, but my nephew has great judgement in people. He told me you were a sweetheart, and I could tell that he was right the moment you introduced yourself. I know you’ll be good here”.

You blushed slightly. Poe called me a sweetheart?

Suddenly a girl, around the same age as you, burst through the door quickly taking off her jacket. “Sorry I’m late, Leia. I got distracted on the bus by this family who had never been to Miami before and their kid was amazed by the beach, so I missed my stop. But it was the cutest thing! You had to be there.” She made her way behind the desk and put her jacket down.

“Yeah, yeah. Tallie, this is Y/N. She’ll be working here soon.”

“Oh thank goodness. It gets lonely around here.” She chuckled.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to provide some sort of company” You smiled before your phone vibrated in your back pocket. You pulled it out to check the message. It was from Poe.

I’m down at the shore right now if you wanted to meet me and I can introduce you to my Aunt Leia!

You smiled before responding quickly:

I’m actually with her now! I got the job:)

You looked back up at Leia and Tallie who were talking and continuing to dust off the old books. “I can start working tomorrow, if that’s alright.”

Leia nodded. “Wonderful! We can discuss a proper work schedule later, but how does 11am work for you?”

“That’s perfect” Your smile widened. “Thank you so much, Leia. Nice to meet you Tallie!”

The two women said their goodbyes as you left the store with the same feeling you had after leaving Finn’s party a few weeks ago. So far, everything seemed to be going well, and you hoped that this was the start to the kind of life you had always wanted.  

You pulled out your phone to call Rey, but just as you were about to dial her number, Poe called you.

“Hello?”

“Hey! Congrats on the job. I mean, I knew she’d hire you, but still!” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Thank you. For both congratulating me and for putting in a good word.” You, once again, were blushing.

“Of course. Thought I’d help you get a kick start here in the city. You got plans right now?” He asked.

You bit your lip nervously before responding. “Not really.”

Suddenly his voice through the phone sounded closer. “Good. Then can I treat you to lunch?” You jumped to turn around and see him laughing, his phone still pressed to his ear. A sense of deja vu ran over you as you remembered this was the same way Poe approached you at Finn’s party.

You hung up the phone and scoffed playfully. “You need to stop doing that.”

“I’ve only done it twice,” He laughed, putting his phone in his pocket.

You chuckled lightly before looking around. “So where are we going?”

“There’s a nice deli a couple blocks down. You up for sandwiches?”

Your mouth nearly watered at the thought. You hadn’t eaten since early this morning and it was only a couple slices of toast. “That sounds fantastic.”

The afternoon you spent with Poe was familiar. Just how you two talked for hours on his couch at Finns party, you two spent hours in the Deli talking about almost everything under the sun. He told you about his childhood growing up in South Miami, and he also revealed that his mother had passed away due to cancer when he was 18. You appreciated him sharing something so personal with you, and you wish you could do the same and talk to him about your past. But you had met him not too long ago. If you could hardly tell Rey who you have known your entire life, there was no way you could open up to your new friend right away. You had to admit though, every moment you spent time with Poe felt natural. It felt easy.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Poe skyrocketed. You had been working at the bookstore, and sometimes Poe would stop by to see Leia. Leia had mentioned that he had never visited this often, which made your heart flutter. You brushed it off though. You were enjoying your friendship with Poe and have someone brand new in your life. A blank slate.

You were sitting on the couch watching a movie with Rey and Rose when your phone buzzed. You smiled when you saw it was a text from Poe.

Hey! Just landed back to Miami and was thinking about going to the club with Finn tonight. We were wondering if you and the girls wanted to join.

“Poe wants to know if we want to go out tonight with him and Finn,” You asked your roommates, who didn’t take their faces off the TV.

“Yeah, I’m down. What time?” Rey asked and Rose nodded in agreement.

Yeah that sounds fun! What time were you thinking?

How bout 8? We can pick you up!

Sounds good. See ya then, Dameron.

Can’t wait :)

Smiling, you put your phone down. “Eight. They’ll pick us up” You reached for a chip from the bowl on the coffee table before returning to watching the movie.

Rose checked her phone. “That’s two and a half hours from now! I need to go get ready.” She stood up and headed to the bathroom to shower.

You laughed. You had gotten used to Rose spending at least an hour in the bathroom making sure she looked, as she liked to call it, “photogenic enough”.

Just as you were about to continue watching the film, Rey pressed pause and looked at you.

You cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

“What’s going on with you and Poe?” She asked with a smirk.

“What are you talking about? He’s my friend.” You chuckled before munching on another chip.

“Oh come on. When he’s not working, you’re with him. You smile every time he texts you. Him and Finn used to come over a lot, but since you’ve moved in, Poe has started coming over without Finn. Even Finn has noticed. He talks to me about it at work. Are you two-”

“No! No, Rey, it’s not like that.” You said sharply. You sighed when she didn’t reply at first, taken aback by your tone. “Look, I like Poe. He’s the first friend I’ve made after moving here. We get along really well and I enjoy being around him. Nothing’s happening between us. Okay?” You were saying this to Rey, but really you were trying to remind yourself of these things. You did like Poe. You were starting to like him in the way you had thought you liked Kyle, and it scared you. From what you had witnessed from the weeks you had spent being around him, you knew Poe wasn’t anything like your ex, but feeling something towards him meant feeling vulnerable. Were you ready for that?

“Besides, I don’t want to jump into anything right now. Not after everything with Kyle. I’m..” You paused to take a breath, your memories rushing back. “I’m still trying to get over that”.

She nodded, knowing that you hated bringing him up. “I’m sorry”.

“It’s okay” You reassured her. “Let’s finish the movie.”

The movie ended about half an hour later, giving you and Rey still enough time to get ready for your night out. You had been to a few bars with Rey since you had gotten to Florida, but not a club, and not with Poe.

You checked the temperature on the weather app, seeing it was going to be 80 degrees and humid. You changed into a pair of shorts and a crop top with a pair of white converse and gold earrings. You curled your hair and put on some light makeup. Your first time at a club, might as well look cute, right? Or were you subconsciously trying to impress Poe?

A few minutes after you had finished getting ready, there was a knock on the front door. “Coming!” You said as you headed towards the door, opening it.

Poe and Finn stood before you, smiling. “You look nice.” Poe smirked.

Your cheeks heated up once again, a familiar feeling around him. “Thanks”.

Finn rolled his eyes before chuckling softly. “You girls ready?”

Both Rey and Rose emerged from their rooms, “Yep!”

You all headed to the car after locking your apartment. You asked if it would be better to uber, but Rey wasn’t a big drinker and was always the designated driver. You trusted her to call an uber to take you all back home if she wasn’t feeling sober.

The club was huge. It was crowded and hot, bright and colorful LED lights that flashed through the entire room. The music was so loud that you could hardly hear your friends talking to you. But after a few drinks in, there was really no talking necessary.

You, Rey and Rose were on the dance floor allowing yourself to let loose. This was the first time you had actually felt a sense of joy. Yes, you were slightly intoxicated, but you had your friends, good music, a job that you enjoyed, and you were in Miami. You had seemed to forget about your past, and it felt so good.

Poe and Finn were getting more drinks at the bar, Poe unable to take his eyes off of you.

“You like her?” Finn yelled over the music for Poe to hear.

Keeping his eyes on you, Poe replied, “Fuck, man. I think so.” He laughed softly.

“Then go get her!” He nudged him, in which Poe smirked before heading to the dance floor.

You smiled as he approached you, reaching your arms out to grab him and pulling him to you. If you were sober, there was a likely chance you wouldn’t have allowed him to be as close as he was right now. But again, your past had seemed to leave you in the moment, and it was Poe.  

You danced together, jumping and spinning each other around until his chest was pressed against your back, hands on your hips. One of your hands was placed on his, the other snaked up to reach around his neck and run through his hair.

You could feel his hot breath on your neck as you grinded your hips against his. There was no denying that the man was getting very, very excited. Your breathing started to pick up, what with the humidity in the club and the alcohol in your system, not to mention the fact that your ass was pressed against the crotch of the guy you were starting to develop a crush for.

You felt Poes lips press against your neck and you gasped at the feeling. They were soft and warm and they provided a sense of comfort even in such an intimate setting. He continued to trace kisses up your neck until he spun you around to face him. You looked up at him to see dark eyes. You bit your lip before wrapping your arms around his neck, tugging on his dark curls as he pulled you closer. Lips nearly brushing over each other, you two continued to dance against one another.

At that moment, nothing else seemed to exist. Your foreheads pressed together, both of you smiling nervously, he leaned in to kiss you. Hesitant at first, you kissed him back. You swore you could hear fireworks going off in the background as you pulled away, music still pounding through your ears. You looked up at Poe as he jerked his head toward the door and whispered in your ear loud enough for you to hear, “Do you want to get out of here?”

With hardly any hesitation, you nodded. “Yes.” You had been drinking, but you were consciously able to respond verbally and process what he was really asking you. Everything you had mentioned to Rey earlier completely left your mind. You wanted Poe.

Poe smirked before grabbing your hand and pulling you out of the crowd. You looked around nervously to see Rey, Rose and Finn glancing at you and Poe as they continued to dance. Rey shot you a look and you nodded, letting her know that it was okay, and she winked at you.

Surprisingly unlocked, Poe opened the back door to his car and pulled you in, immediately latching his lips to yours as you shut it behind you. The kiss was rough and hot, but his lips fit perfectly against yours and you moaned slightly into the kiss as his tongue traced your bottom lip. His hands trailed from your waist up to your stomach and you pulled away for a breath.

Poes hands reached up to cup your cheeks, holding your face close. He leaned up and kissed the corner of your lips. Instantly, it all came back to you.

You were lying on the bed as Kyle hovered over you. Tears in your eyes, you stared at the wall. He leaned down to kiss the corner of your lips.

You had completely sobered up as the memories of Kyle came flooding back. Kyle used to kiss the corner of your mouth. The small gesture had brought back so many terrible memories and you decided that you couldn’t keep going, not tonight. You let out a breath, “Stop, Poe.”

Still in the heat of the moment, Poe responded without thinking. “No, no, no, hey baby, it’s okay.” his voice was calm as he brushed hair out of your face before leaning up to kiss you again.

“No, Poe. Stop!” Your voice was louder than you had intended. He pulled back immediately. “I’m sorry,” you avoided making eye contact, getting off of his lap and sitting in the seat next to him. “I want this. I really do….but I’m just not ready.” You looked down, hands fidgeting. “Uh, I think I’m going to go. Thank you for tonight, Poe….I’ll call you.”

You quickly got out of the car, walking through the parking lot as you opened your phone to call an uber.

“Y/N, wait! I’m sorry!” Poe called after you, but you kept walking. Poe leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. He let out a sigh, completely sobering up. “Fuck.”

You texted Rey as your Uber approached.

Got an uber home. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just tired. I’ll see you when you get home.

It wasn’t a long ride back, but each second felt like hours. You started to wonder if you had just ruined what you had with Poe. If you did, it would mean losing the spark that you felt with him, losing a good friend, and that was the last thing you wanted. You weren’t angry at Poe. He had no idea. You were angry at yourself.

After what seemed like forever, you were home. You thanked and tipped your driver, walking into your apartment. Feeling exhausted, you went to bed right away, or at least tried to. It was difficult to sleep with so many thoughts running through your head. Memories of Kyle, walking away from Poe. Dancing with Poe. Kissing Poe.  

You are pulled from your thoughts when your phone that was resting on your bedside table buzzed.

Hey Y/N. I’m really sorry about earlier. I never intended to make you uncomfortable. I hope this doesn’t affect anything. Let me know if you want to talk. I’ll have my phone next to me all night. If not, no worries and I hope you sleep well.  -Poe

It gave you some relief knowing that Poe wasn’t freaked out by your outburst and that he wanted to talk. You wanted to reply to him, let him know everything would be okay, but you needed to allow yourself to calm down. The night may not have ended the way you intended it to, but there was still a huge chunk of you that still needed to be healed. Poe didn’t deserve to be treated like a rebound. You liked him a lot. You wanted to do this right, but you needed to be ready.

You let out a deep breath before putting your phone back down on the table, closing your eyes before you drifted off.

taglist <open> @twomoonstwosuns​ @rewritingstarrs​ @darksideofclarke​ @writingforhoursonend​ @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol​ @lanatheawesome​ @fanfiction-trashpile​ @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ @softly-sad​ @aidela​ @yeeintensifies​ @the-cry-of-youth​

[wistfulcynic]

And Beginnings (Their Way By Moonlight, epilogue)

SUMMARY: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time Emma is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from Henry and anyone else who might  help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Killian have the ability to share their dreams, and are working together in secret to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from a new and dangerous foe.

Rating: M

(chapter 18 on tumblr)

AO3 

-

And Beginnings: 

The next morning found Henry and Killian in the bookstore, their heads together over a stack of papers on the desk by the register, their attention laser-focused. 

“How about this one?” suggested Henry. 

Killian frowned. “Too small.” 

“It’s got two bedrooms! How much space do you think we need?” 

“Well, er—” Killian forced himself not to scratch behind his ear. “—um, we might want more. Someday.” 

Henry stared at him. “What for?” 

Killian scrambled for something to distract him. “What do you think of this one, lad? It’s a handsome dwelling, aye?” 

“Hmmm.” Henry peered at the listing. “It’s kinda far away.” 

“This is Storybrooke, nothing is ever that far away.” 

“Yeah, fair. But this one’s like halfway into the forest. And you know you’d prefer to live near the water.” 

“Ideally I would, but you can’t have everything.” 

They were so engrossed in poring over the real estate listings that they didn’t hear the door opening, or the person who opened it approaching them until she spoke. 

“How about this one?” 

Killian and Henry started in unison and looked up, surprise on both their faces. On Killian’s it twisted immediately into apprehension, but on Henry’s it bloomed into delight. 

“Belle!” he cried, jumping to his feet and throwing his arms around her. “I didn’t get to talk to you yesterday. How are you?”

“I’m fine, Henry.” Belle smiled and hugged him back. “Glad the curse is broken.” 

“Are you sure?” Henry looked earnestly at her. “Now that you remember—well…” 

“That Rumple is gone.” Belle nodded, a look of wistful sadness in her eyes. “Yeah. But I remember other things too. Like how in the Enchanted Forest Neal wanted to try a dangerous spell to bring Rumple back, but I convinced him not to. Rumple died a hero and that’s how I want to remember him. I’ve made my peace with it.” 

“And what about now?” Killian asked hesitantly. “What will you do?” 

“Well.” Belle turned to him, shoulders thrown back and face hard. “I seem to remember you offered me a job. Is that still on the table?” 

Killian’s tense shoulders relaxed, just a fraction. “Aye, of course it is, if you still want it. But are you sure you don’t want to go back to the library?” 

Belle shook her head. “Little John actually wants to stay on as the librarian. He got really into it during the curse and… well, let’s just say he’s made the library his own. He says that as long as he doesn’t have to sleep inside anymore he’s okay with spending eight hours a day with his books.” She chuckled. “I didn’t want to take that from him. Besides—” Her expression turned defiant. “I happen to love this store. I want to work here.” 

Killian relaxed still further and offered her a hesitant smile. “I want that too, lass. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d need your help. This town won’t be needing perhaps quite so many books of magic anymore, but some lighter material would surely draw them in. I would greatly value your input on what to focus on for that.” 

Belle nodded. “Good, then we’re agreed. I can start right away.” She held out her hand and he shook it, holding on rather longer than necessary as he tried to find the words to express what he badly wanted her to understand. 

“Belle, I’m—” he realised he was still holding her hand and dropped it abruptly. “I’m sorry. For, er—” 

“Trying to kill me?” 

“Aye, that—” 

“Twice.” 

“Yes.” He could feel a hot flush spreading across his cheekbones. “I understand if you don’t forgive me, but please know that I am truly and deeply sorry for it.” 

“I don’t forgive you.”

Killian nodded, forcing an understanding smile even as his stomach sank in disappointment. “Of course, that’s—” 

“I don’t forgive you yet,” Belle amended. “But if you give me a raise and let me order the full complement of Georgette Heyer novels, well, I might consider it.” 

Killian’s mouth quirked in appreciation. She drove a hard bargain. “Twenty-five cents more an hour and would you consider Daphne du Maurier as an alterna—” 

“A dollar more and Georgette Heyer.” Belle crossed her arms firmly across her chest. 

“Fifty cents and Daphne du Maurier.” 

“Seventy-five cents and Daphne du Maurier, plus Georgette Heyer.” 

“Done.” 

They shook hands again and the smile Belle gave him was genuine. Killian felt the knot of guilty tension in his chest begin to loosen as he returned it. “I’ll go get the catalogs,” she said. “And—would you like a cup of tea?” 

“I’d love one.” 

As Belle retreated to the office upstairs, Henry turned to Killian with a frown. “That wasn’t a very good deal you struck,” he said. “You gave her the books she wanted and almost all the money.” 

“A good deal is one that brings you something of greater value than what you give up,” Killian replied. “And this one did precisely that.” 

“If you say so,” said Henry dubiously. “But hey, at least she found our house.” 

“She what?” 

Henry held up the listing Belle had indicated. “Look at it, it’s perfect.” 

Killian glanced at the small picture then did a double-take, snatched the paper from Henry’s hand and read it closely. “This is it, lad.” He put his hand on Henry’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “This is the one.” 

~

“Killian, where are we going?” Emma frowned as the truck turned a corner into a neighbourhood she couldn’t recall ever visiting before. She’d never really had a reason to, and she doubted Killian had either. 

“I told you.” 

“No, you said ‘It’s a surprise, love.’ Which is not helpful.” She scowled at him but he, infuriatingly, kept his eyes firmly on the road. 

“It is a surprise, though, and it would cease to be one if I told you what it was,” he pointed out, in that I-am-eminently-reasonable tone of voice that always seemed to get her dander up. 

“But why does it have to be a surprise,” she pressed, “why can’t—” 

“We’re here.” Killian interrupted loudly as he pulled the truck up to the curb.

Emma looked out the window. “Where?” There was nothing here but houses, and he’d parked in front of a tall, Victorian-style one painted a soft slate blue with white trim. A lovely house, in fact. But not one she recognised. 

Killian got out of the truck and hurried to her door, opening it with an exaggerated flourish that had her attempting to hide her grin behind a dramatic eye-roll, her irritation with him slipping away as though it had never been. 

“You’re so cheesy.” 

“Aye, love.” He offered her his arm and she threaded hers through it, letting him help her out of the truck. Arm in arm they walked through the gate in the white picket fence and up the steps onto the porch. 

Emma looked around, still confused. “Who lives here?” 

“Well, that is the question.” Killian removed a set of keys from his jacket pocket and unlocked the front door. “If you like it, perhaps we will.” 

He ushered a sputtering Emma through the door and stood back as she turned in a slow circle, taking in the high ceilings and hardwood floors, the tall windows with their view of the sea. 

“Well, love? What do you think?” 

“You really want to live here?” 

“Well, aye, if you do. We can’t stay in the apartment forever, it’s a squeeze a—” he was going to say ‘as it is,’ but stopped himself “—and a boy Henry’s age should really have his own room with actual walls. As should we.” 

“True.” 

“But if you don’t care for this house, there are others we could look at. I just—well, Henry and I—we thought you’d like this one.” 

“I do.” Emma turned to him, a bright smile on her lips and tears in her eyes. “I love it. It’s exactly the sort of house I—” she broke off with a small shake of her head. 

Killian drew her close, wiping her tears away with his thumb. “You what, love?” 

“The sort of house I dreamed of having when I was a kid,” she whispered. 

He  nodded. “Aye. It’s very different in style to the houses I knew as a lad, but in an odd way the feeling is the same. It’s what I wanted too. What we had, in part, before my mother died.” 

Emma snuggled against him with a little sigh, one arm squeezing tight around his waist as the hand of other came to rest lightly on her lower belly. Killian had always been skeptical of the notion of soulmates, and truthfully so was she. It seemed ridiculous, and so limiting, the idea that there was one person in all the universe and one person only that you were meant to be with. Yet the way she and Killian fit together, the similarities that bonded them and the differences that balanced them, and the sheer absurd improbability of the fact that they had even met—it was enough to challenge even the fiercest skepticism. 

But it didn’t matter. They had found each other, whatever the hows and the whys of it, and she knew that neither would ever again let the other go. This house was just the next step in the life they had fought so hard for, the one they deserved. The life she wanted so much and was no longer afraid to live. 

“Let’s do it,” she said. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Let’s buy the house. I love it. Let’s live here. I love you.” 

The smile that broke across his face was so full of happiness, her heart soared to see it. “I love you too,” he said, laughing as he scooped her up and twirled her around, kissing her breathless the moment he set her on her feet again. “I’ll call the realtor right now.”  

~

Two weeks later…

It was almost a normal morning in Storybrooke. The new normal, a post-curse normal, the normal of erstwhile fairy tale characters living quiet lives in a small town on the coast of Maine. Prince Charming kissed Snow White goodbye before setting out for another day as the town’s acting sheriff. Snow sat a moment longer at the dining table to finish reading her newspaper, satisfied to find that nothing remarkable had occurred overnight, then headed to the mayor’s office—which was now purged all traces of its previous occupant and no longer featured anything of any shade of green. On her way there she met Grumpy—still her favourite of the seven dwarves despite his penchant for shouting—and the Merry Men as they trouped into town from their camp in the woods. Robin Hood himself she knew would join them after he finished his breakfast at Granny’s Diner with the Evil Queen. 

The Evil Queen who was at that moment lingering over her own goodbye kiss with Robin under the arch at the diner’s entrance, a faint flush brightening her cheeks when they finally broke apart. She watched as he strode away to greet his Merry Men then turned down a different street, to make yet another attempt at reconciling with her sister. Arriving at the loft apartment she was doing her best to share, she found the Wicked Witch of the West—for who else could be the Evil Queen’s secret half-sister?—seated at the table poking viciously at a bowl of corn flakes with a spoon. 

On the other side of town Rumplestiltskin’s son dropped his own son off at school then took the long way back to the pawn shop, passing by the bookstore in time to glimpse Belle through the window as she flipped the sign to announce that they were OPEN.

So far, so very nearly normal. 

When Charming arrived at the sheriff’s station he sighed as he looked around the quiet space, rather depressed at the prospect of another solitary day and wondering if Emma might consider hiring a second deputy. 

Snow assured Grumpy that she would let Emma know right away about the ‘excessively barking’ dog and that everything the combined power of the mayor’s office and the sheriff’s might do to deal with the situation would be done.

 Belle hummed as she rearranged the bookshelves to accommodate the new Georgette Heyer novels that had arrived the day before, a satisfied smile teasing the corners of her mouth as she imagined Killian’s reaction to them. 

“Any word from our dear Saviour and her very obedient lap-pirate?” the Wicked Witch sneered as the Evil Queen took a seat next to her and poured herself a cup of tea from the still-warm pot. 

“No,” she replied calmly. “And I don’t expect one either. I don’t even think they took their phones with them.” 

Some hours later dawn broke over the horizon of a distant land, a tiny green island set in a shimmering sea. It broke softly at first, gentle, hazy sunlight that gilded the surface of the turquoise water and warmed the sand ground soft and fine over countless years by the very waves now lapping at its edges. It shone on the palm trees bent heavy with coconuts and swaying in the salty breeze and woke the birds that nestled among them, gaining strength and heat as the sun climbed higher in the sky. The bright beams of it danced playfully up a path of rough-hewn boards leading from the beach and onto the porch of a ramshackle hut, slipping in through a window whose shutter was flung wide to welcome it and alighting finally upon a bed.

It was a narrow bed by necessity; the hut boasted only one room and though its other furnishings were sparse—a wooden table and chairs in one corner and a woven hammock strung across the other—there was simply no space in it for undue extravagance. Yet the bed made a good show of luxury, wrapped as it was in smooth white sheets and piled with pillows, swathed in gauzy curtains of mosquito netting draped over its four tall posts, both for elegant effect and the comfort and peace of its two still slumbering occupants: Emma the Swan Princess, daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming, and her husband Killian Jones, better known to most as the pirate Captain Hook. 

They lay in a hopeless tangle of bare limbs and twisted sheets, twined around each other despite the muggy warmth of the early morning and the promise of heat to come. Should anyone happen to observe them, that person might remark on how impossible it seemed to achieve such a muddle, unless they had simply collapsed into it after a particularly energetic round of desert island sex, too worn out to unravel themselves before sleep overcame them. 

That person would not be mistaken. 

But there was no one to observe them, not for hundreds of miles—solitude being the primary appeal of honeymooning in an uninhabited place—and the truth of the matter was that they were making the very most of this rare circumstance and had barely put on clothes since their arrival on the island three days before. 

“Not sure why we even bothered to pack,” Emma had remarked the previous afternoon, and Killian had hummed his agreement against the sun-warmed skin of her thigh.

It was the sense of a day beginning that woke Killian as much as the dawn light did, but he knew that Emma would be sound asleep for a good few hours yet and so he made no move to rise. Instead, he lay still and just enjoyed the moment—the breeze and the birdsong, cool sheets and plump pillows and the softness of Emma’s skin, the scent of sunshine that still clung to it, the slight roughness left by dried saltwater in her hair. He dragged his nose across her cheek, breathing in deeply then out again on a soft sigh that ruffled the fine strands at her temple, a sigh of sheer contentment. Never before had he felt so relaxed, so peaceful or so happy.  

He was of course not foolish enough to believe that this happy could truly be ever after; it never really was, even in the fairy tales. There would still be struggle and conflict, challenges to face and disagreements over how to face them, bad moods and spats and tears and anger, sadness and even heartbreak. That was simply life, and life was something Killian Jones knew better than perhaps any other mortal in existence. For far too long he had known only the very worst of what that life could bring—bitter loss and hollow vengeance, loneliness and despair—and never believed he deserved anything better. Even now a part of him still struggled to grasp that what he had now was real, still waited for it all to be snatched away. Until Emma’s smile and the softness she reserved for him alone reassured him that this was his life and he did deserve it, the happiness of belonging and of family and of love. 

True love, the one fairy tale notion in which he wholeheartedly believed. 

Day broke fully as the sun crested the horizon and set out upon its arcing path across the sky. Killian ignored it. Even the scrupulously punctual naval officer that still dwelt within him blithely took no heed of the hours that passed as he drifted in and out of a gentle doze until finally Emma began to stir and stretch and mumble nonsense words as she slowly came awake. 

He nuzzled her nose with his and when her eyes fluttered open kissed her softly on the lips. She smiled into the kiss and twined her arms around his neck, her fingertips playing through his hair. 

“Morning,” she murmured when they broke apart. “I’m starving.” 

“Are you indeed,” he growled. “You do wear a man out, Swan, with your insatiable demands.” 

“Starving for food, I meant.”

“Mmm, are you sure about that?” 

The table in the corner began to shimmer faintly and food appeared on it, fresh pineapple and mango and rambutan, warm firi firi and cool iced coffee. By the magic of the local god—a friend of a friend of Ariel’s—the table, the hut, the island itself all had the power to sense the earnest wishes of those in residence there and grant them. 

“Yep,” said Emma, only a little smugly. “Pretty sure.” 

“It’s probably for the best,” observed Killian, sweeping the table with his own hungry gaze. “You just about wore me out last night.” 

“Breakfast first,” decreed Emma, “and then a swim. And then—” she let her fingertips dance down his chest and belly to drum a rhythmless beat on his lower abdomen. “—then we’ll see how worn out you actually are, old man.” 

~ 

It wasn’t until hours later, after they had eaten and been for a swim, as they were relaxing on the beach with the fierce rays of the tropical sun filtered through a shield of the island’s magic, that she told him. 

“So,” she said, attempting and wholly failing to appear casual. “Um.” 

Killian hid his smile. 

“Yes?” he asked, rolling over on his side to look at her. 

She sat up and curled her legs beneath her, her fingers tracing nervously through the sand. “I, ah, have something to tell you.” 

“Okay.” 

“Um.” 

He bit the inside of his cheek, forcing his face to remain impassive. “What is it, love?” 

“Uh.” Emma flushed, and not from the heat. “I, ah. I’m—” 

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and he nodded encouragingly. “You’re what?” he prompted, every muscle held tense in anticipation. 

“I’m, ah—” 

Come on, Swan, he urged her in his head. You can do it. 

She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant,” she burst out, and he let his smile spread wide across his face, fuelled by the explosion of pure joy in his chest. Emma didn’t notice; now that the dam was broken words were flooding out of her. “I’m about six weeks along, so it must have happened really soon after I got my memories back. What with the curse and all I just forgot about getting my IUD replaced. I went to see Dr Whale, which, ugh, but he confirmed the pregnancy and when we get home we’ll have to go for a scan, I don’t know if you know but they do this thing with like… a thing—” 

“An ultrasound, aye.” He had been in this realm more than long enough to be aware of such things but Emma barrelled on, hardly hearing him. 

“—and Killian you will love this technology, it actually lets you see the baby and then they give you a picture to take home afterwards. I had one with Henry—I mean kind of, it was a lot, well, blurrier back then, and of course I—well, it was different with Henry.” She frowned, squirming slightly. “I feel so bad about that, and honestly I’m a bit worried about how he’ll react to a baby brother or sister, but I—I can’t help it, babe, I’m so excited for this baby and—hey!” 

Her stream of words dissolved into laughter as he took her by the wrist and tugged her down, rolling until she was sprawled on top of him. “I’m excited too, darling,” he said, brushing her sandy hair back from her face. “And Henry will be as well. It’s brilliant news.” 

Her eyes narrowed in a suspicious frown. “You don’t seem very surprised.” 

“Don’t I?”

“You already knew!” she cried accusingly, slapping him in the chest. 

His already foolish grin widened still further. “I suspected.” 

“How? How could you possibly?” 

Killian slid his fingers into the damp tangle of her hair, his thumb stroking her cheekbone. “Emma, I am intimately acquainted with every inch of your body, and I notice when it changes.” 

“Are you saying my boobs are bigger?” 

He waggled his eyebrows at her. “Aye, among other things.”  

“Other things are bigger?” 

“No, other things have changed,” he soothed, stroking his wrist over the curve of her hip. “You’ve started taking naps in the afternoon and the smell of peanut butter makes you turn green. Your belly is softer. And you’re glowing.” 

She melted into his touch. “That’s just because I’m happy.” 

“Aye, love. Me too.” 

Emma sank her own fingers into his hair and kissed him, deep and intense with love. He gave a little moan in the back of his throat as he tightened his arms around her and she echoed it, rolling her hips against his hardening cock. 

“We’re too sandy,” she said against his lips. “I wish—” 

The air above them shimmered with magic and cool rain began to fall from the clear blue sky, straight and heavy as a shower. They laughed, scrambling to their feet and rinsing themselves off, lingering over the contours of each other’s skin until Emma deemed them sufficiently clean and grabbed his hand, pulling him back up the path and into the hut. 

They tumbled together onto the bed, rolling until she was atop him again, flushed and frantic as she writhed against him. “Killian, I—I want—” 

“Take it,” he growled. “Whatever you need. Your heart’s desire, Swan, that’s all I ever want to give you.” 

“You do,” she said, her hand on his cheek, her eyes intense on his. “You make me so happy, Killian. So happy.” 

“I love you,” he choked as she shifted her hips and took him inside her, grinding down hard and arching her back in that way he loved, taking him deep and squeezing him tight. “Emma—gods—I—” 

He gripped her thigh as she rode him, her head flung back so far the ends of her hair brushed his legs. She was glorious, his princess, his treasure, his love, and he needed her to come, now. 

“Please,” he gasped, pressing his stump against her clit. “Please, Emma—” 

She leaned forward, raking her nails across his chest and grinding herself against his wrist. “Harder,” she demanded as he felt her begin to flutter around him. “Harde-oh!” 

He flipped them over and thrust hard, deeper each time as she shuddered in release beneath him. He held out for as long as he could, determined to draw out her pleasure, until she grabbed him by the hair and kissed him and then with a choking groan he came deep within her. 

She held him until he caught his breath then followed when he rolled away, curling herself against his chest with a happy, sated sigh. Killian laid his hand flat against her belly, imagining his child in there beneath it, barely the size of a pea now but growing every day. He caught his breath, suddenly overwhelmed by the wonder of it all. It was one thing to suspect his wife was pregnant, quite another to hear it confirmed. Now it felt real.  

Emma placed her hand over his, twining their fingers together. “What are you thinking?” she asked. 

“Just thinking what our child will be like.” 

“Mmmm. Well, she’ll have dark hair.” 

“Or he’ll have blonde. Green eyes, of course.” 

“Oh of course. Or, you know, blue.” 

He chuckled. “Well that seems to have covered all available options.” 

“Do you care? What the baby looks like or if it’s a boy or a girl?” 

“Of course not. I love it so much already I won’t even mind if it looks like your father.” 

She sputtered, half indignant half amused, and he laughed and cuddled her closer. “Our child, Emma,” he said earnestly. “You and me in one person, a whole new person who will be us but also unique. It’s—I can’t even tell you how much I—” He shook his head helplessly, lost, for once, for words. 

She laid her hand on his cheek and leaned up to kiss him, softly and with complete understanding. 

“I know,” she whispered. “Me too.” 

~

…and another seven and a half months after that.

Emma began to groan before she even opened her eyes. Opening them felt like a chore anyway these days, much like getting out of bed, which was no longer something she could easily accomplish on her own. Instead she had to be hoisted—and yes, the word was hoisted despite Killian’s protests. If she got any bigger he would need actual slings and pulleys to extract her from the bed, she told him grumpily, scowling as he struggled not to laugh. 

She was still thrilled about the baby, beyond excited to meet their child, but she was seriously fucking fed up with being pregnant. 

Killian wanted her to take maternity leave, the one point on which he and her dad agreed one hundred percent, but as tempting as the idea was some mornings Emma knew she wouldn’t be able to spend weeks just sitting around at home or even in the bookstore with Killian, with nothing to do but twiddle her thumbs. 

“You could read,” Killian had said the week before, during a family meal at Granny’s. 

“Or knit?” Snow suggested. 

“Knit? Mom, have you met me?” 

“You could do that criminal justice course online,” said David. “One of us really ought to.” Ought to be actually qualified to do our jobs, he meant, but Emma was skeptical that a Land Without Magic certificate course would be that useful in training them for the kinds of things they faced daily in Storybrooke. 

“I’m not sure it’s really worth the trouble unless there’s an official procedure for dealing with magic-less ex-witches,” she pointed out. 

Zelena was still a problem. She was on house arrest, living with Regina in her new place—the old one holding a few too many unpleasant memories of her life under the curse and the loft uncomfortably small for the two of them plus Robin and his son, who now spent most nights there. Regina was trying hard, even her loudest detractors had to admit, doing her best to build a relationship with her sister while also gradually making amends for her own actions as the Evil Queen. It wasn’t an easy path, for either of them, but Regina was showing what Emma felt was pretty impressive determination and with Robin firmly behind her was happier than she had ever been. 

But Zelena…Emma still wasn’t sure what to make of her. She still sneered and sniped at everyone she met, grumbled constantly and made herself generally unpleasant while refusing flat-out to explain anything about how her curse had worked or how she’d managed to get her hands on the subtle knife, or who the knife-bearer was she’d stolen it from. She had entirely eclipsed Regina as the most hated person in town, even according to Leroy. And yet. Three days earlier when Emma was doing paperwork at the station Regina had appeared with a wry expression on her face and a small gift bag in her hand. 

“What’s this?” Emma asked, nonplussed when Regina handed the bag to her. 

“You’d probably better look for yourself,” Regina replied. “I—don’t really know how to explain it.” 

Emma peeked inside the bag and her jaw dropped. Slowly she withdrew a yellow cotton baby onesie, just a standard one you could buy from any store, but it had been embroidered all over with tiny white swans and silver hooks, clearly by hand. 

“Um,” she said. “Regina, I don’t—” 

“Oh, it’s not from me,” Regina drawled. “It’s from Zelena. It seems she’s taken up embroidery.” 

“Oh.” Emma gaped at the onesie, completely at a loss. It was strangely beautiful, and maybe it was just her crazy pregnancy hormones at work but she was genuinely touched by the gesture. “Thank you. Tell her I said thank you.” 

“She’s trying, you know,” said Regina. “It may not seem like it but she is.” 

“I know.” 

“And we didn’t know if you were having a shower or anything, so…” 

“Oh. Yeah. I’m not. I mean, Mom wants me to have one, but I just—” she shrugged. Parties weren’t really her thing, especially ones that seemed to involve ‘cakes’ made of diapers like the ones Snow kept trying to show her on Pinterest. 

Regina nodded. “I understand.” 

“Honestly, though, this is incredible.” Emma ran her thumb over one of the hooks, marvelling at how its elegant curve matched that of the swans’ necks. “I really am grateful, and please tell Zelena I said so.” 

Regina smiled. “I will.” 

So Zelena was a problem Emma wasn’t quite comfortable leaving in other people’s hands, and lacking anything she really wanted to do to fill her time she had determined to keep working and save her leave for when the baby was actually here. But no maternity leave meant she still had to go to work, and that meant getting out of bed. Hence the groaning. 

She felt Killian shift behind her a second before his warm hand slid over her hip, gripping it gently as he began to massage her lower back with his thumb and wrist. “Morning, love,” he said. “What aches today?”

“Everything,” grumbled Emma. “That feels so good though, don’t stop.” 

“Ah,” he teased. “How fondly I recall the days when you used to say that to me in rather different circumstances.” 

“Which is how I ended up like this,” she retorted, though his sleep-roughened voice made her skin tingle. “A back massage is really the least you can do.” 

He leaned closer and nuzzled her neck as his thumb soothed a particularly sore knot near her spine. “Anything you require, my love, as you know,” he said. 

“I know.” She sighed and stretched her legs as far as they could go, pointing her toes and arching her back. “Could you do my shoulders next?” 

“Of course.” 

Twenty minutes later she was marginally less achy and more relaxed, sitting up in bed sipping the coffee Killian had made for her and trying to pretend there was caffeine in it. He was cooking breakfast now, bacon from the mouthwatering smell of it, and in another few minutes he’d be back to hoist her out of bed and help her down the steep stairs, but for now she could sit and relax and—

“Da-ad!” Henry shouted from his bedroom down the hall. “Have you seen my Star Wars t-shirt?” 

“Which Star Wars t-shirt, exactly?” Killian called from the kitchen. “You own at least five.” 

Emma sighed, a short, irritated huff through her nose. How many times did she have to tell them not to shout across the house? 

“The blue one with the silver letters,” Henry yelled in reply. 

“I don’t think I’ve seen that one for a while.” 

“It’s not in my dresser, or in my closet, or—” 

“Have you checked under your bed?” Killian’s voice was much closer now and she could hear his footsteps on the stairs.

She could almost hear Henry’s eye roll. “Why would it be—oh. Found it!” 

“Do not put that on if it’s been buried under your bed for the gods only know how long.” Killian had arrived at Henry’s door but their conversation was still perfectly audible from all the way down the hall. Emma wondered if it was wrong to hope the baby was a girl so she’d have some respite from men in her house. 

“But I want to wear it today!” Henry whined. 

“Well, you can’t. Wear a different one, you’ve plenty to choose from.” 

“I want this one!” 

“Then you should have checked it was clean last night and not ten minutes before you have to leave for school. Now give it to me, and I’ll put it in the laundry. You can wear it tomorrow.” 

There was a long pause and Emma held her breath as she waited to hear Henry’s reply. Some day, she knew, Killian’s pirate captain voice would lose its battle for dominance with Henry’s teenage hormones, but apparently today was not that day. 

“Fine,” Henry grumbled. “I’ll wear the black one.” 

“No one will know the difference, I’m sure.” Killian didn’t even attempt to hide the amusement in his tone. 

“I will,” Henry retorted. 

A moment later Killian appeared in the doorway of their bedroom, the t-shirt draped over his shoulder. “Ready to get up, love?” 

“As I’ll ever be.” Emma drained the rest of her coffee and set the cup on the bedside table, then held out her hands. Killian grasped them firmly with his hand and prosthetic and balanced her as she struggled to her feet, wrapping his arms comfortingly around her when she was finally upright. She sighed against his shoulder—the one not occupied by a teenage boy’s dirty t-shirt—and leaned heavily into the comfort of his embrace. 

“I hate this,” she whined. 

“I know, love,” he said soothingly, rubbing gentle circles on her belly. “Only a month to go.” 

“I remember when that seemed like a short time.” 

“I wish you’d start your leave now,” he tried, for the hundredth or possibly millionth time. “You could sleep in—” 

“Killian, we’ve been over this.” 

“—I could reduce my hours at the bookstore. We could finish up the baby’s room and I could rub your feet—” 

“You do that anyway.” 

“I could do it for longer.” 

It wasn’t that the idea wasn’t tempting. She knew how badly he wanted her not to overtax herself, that he was worried about her taking unnecessary risks at work—despite the fact that she worked with her father who was if anything more overprotective than Killian. But still… “No. I’m not ready yet,” she said firmly. “I can’t sit at home doing nothing for that long. Once the baby comes I’ll take the leave, I promise, but until then—” 

“Two weeks before your due date,” he wheedled. 

“That’s still too long.” 

“One week then. Indulge me, Swan, you know I can’t help worrying about you.” 

Emma sighed. “All right, a week before.” She almost took the words back when she caught the triumphant glint in his eye and realised she’d been had.  

She gave an annoyed huff and he laughed. 

“Pirate,” she hissed. 

“Yo ho ho, my love.” 

~

When she got to the station David was already there, sipping a cup of coffee that looked delightfully caffeinated. Emma whimpered longingly at it, but he gave her his very finest stern dad look and handed her another steaming mug. 

“Regular?” she said hopefully. 

“Decaf.” 

“I hate you.” 

“I love you. And my unborn grandchild.” 

He followed her into her office, hovering behind her as she slowly lowered herself into her chair. His overprotectiveness was seriously annoying but also she kind of loved it. It was just such a dad thing to do. She leaned back in her chair, resting her feet on the stack of books beneath her desk with a relieved sigh.

“Speaking of the unborn, how’s Mom doing?” she asked, sipping the coffee. Nowhere near as good as Killian’s but still not bad. For decaf. 

“Good,” said David, grinning happily. “She was up at five this morning cleaning the kitchen. She says she’s got more energy than she knows what to do with.” Snow was nearing the end of her first trimester, still in the ‘glowing’ stage. Emma reminded herself that it was unhealthy to hate both her parents. 

“She could shoot some in my direction,” she grumbled. 

“I’m sure she would if she could,” said David sympathetically. “You know, if you wanted to start your leave—”  

“I don’t.” She glared at him over the rim of her cup and deliberately changed the subject. “Anything going on this morning I should know about?” 

David’s expression said plainly that he didn’t consider the subject changed in the slightest and they had a short, silent battle of wills before he answered her question. “Leroy up to his old tricks, but otherwise no reports.” 

“Good,” said Emma, settling deeper into her chair. “That’s good. Let’s hope it stays that way. I could use a quiet one.” 

The phone began to ring, ominously she thought, right as she finished speaking. Emma let her eyes fall shut, just for a moment, then braced herself and picked up the receiver. 

“Sheriff Jones. Yes. I—what? Whoa, wait, back up. Did you say an ice wall?” She widened her eyes at David, who nodded and grabbed his jacket. “Okay. We’ll be right there.” 

-

@thisonesatellite @ohmightydevviepuu @katie-dub​​​​ @kmomof4​​​​ @teamhook​​ @stahlop​​​​ @mariakov81​​​​ @snowbellewells​​​ @thejollyroger-writer​​ @jennjenn615​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @winterbaby89​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​

[heyyyharry]

My Girl Series: Chapter 6 - This Time

…in which Y/N needs a wedding date, and this time Harry’s not giving up.

Series description: Y/N falls in love with the older boy next door who doesn’t feel the same, years later they meet again at a funeral.

AU: actor!harry, older!harry, younger!y/n; (4-year age gap)

Chapter 5: Somebody Else - Once upon a time, there was a girl and a boy, and no one else.

A little happy gift from sad Allie 😂 You’re welcome.

wattpad link

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It had been two weeks since the last time Y/N saw Harry.

Like a ghost, he disappeared into thin air without a single clue only to reappear on a sunny Thursday afternoon via a simple text, saying he was waiting for her outside her flat and that it was an emergency. When she received that message, Y/N was in the library and had to drop everything at once to rush back home for him.

It was not until she had run up five floors and saw him standing outside her door with the brightest smile on his face, intact, that she realized she had been worried all for nothing.

"Hey, Bam—Ouch!" He jumped away, rubbing the sore spot on his arm where she'd just hit him, mouth agape. "What was that for?"

"'Come home quick. Emergency'? Emergency my ass! I was shit-scared when I read your text."

"This is an emergency." He bent down and picked up the paper bag at his feet. "I bought you ice cream and it's melting."

"Ice cream?" She dropped her jaw, hands on her hips. "I thought something bad had happened to you, H!"

"You thought I was in trouble and came home right away?"

Y/N rolled her eyes in response to that idiotically gorgeous smile of his, yet she decided not to answer that question.

"What's the occasion?" She asked, eyes fixed on the paper bag full of snacks he was carrying. She didn't understand why he looked so shocked as if she was supposed to know the answer already.

Wait, am I supposed to?

It took the girl a moment to remember the date, and when she had, she felt like the shittiest person alive.

It was her mother's birthday.

When they were little, Harry had always helped her prepare a small birthday party for her mother each year. They would make cupcakes and birthday cards together. Now that her mother was gone, he knew it was meaningless to come over with ice-cream for her and flowers for her mum since there was nothing left to celebrate. But he felt like he should, hoping his presence would count for something.

"I can't believe I forgot mum's birthday," she groaned into her palms, mentally cursing herself for being so thoughtless. But he knew it wasn't her fault, she didn't mean to forget. A lot of things had happened in her life recently, starting from her dad's engagement, to her struggles with her unfinished first novel, her unpaid rents, and then of course...him.

Harry was just about to say something when the girl lifted her face up, eyes squinted at him. "How did you..."

"Your dad told me you always visited her on her birthday..."

"My dad? Are you best friends with him now?"

"No, I just—"

"Don't." She raised a finger so he wouldn't continue, and he was waiting for her to tell him to leave. To his surprise, she didn't this time. She just took a long pause and asked him if he could give her a ride to the train station, so she could catch the next train back to Cheshire.

Y/N assumed a famous actor like Harry didn't have much free time to spare, and she really had to think twice before asking him for such a favor. After all, he had his own busy life, he wasn't her personal chauffeur.

The last thing she would expect to hear from him was, "I'll drive you back to Cheshire."

"What?" She raised an eyebrow at the man and he supposed she thought he was only kidding. He definitely wasn't. "It's a four-hour drive, H."

"Then we should leave now." He pressed his lips into a small smile, and her heart suddenly forgot how to beat.

She didn't know why he was doing all of that for her. She just asked for a small favor which he could have easily declined, still, he volunteered to drive nearly 200 miles so she could visit her mother's grave. She honestly didn't get it but she didn't want to ask him why.

"Thank you so much," she said. "I owe you this once."

"Wait, but..."

"But what?" Y/N had already climbed down a couple stairs when she stopped to look back at him.

"We should put the melting ice cream in the fridge." He nodded towards the door, making her smile.

It was actually the first smile he'd received from his Bambi after two weeks away from her and Harry couldn't put into words how glad he was to see it again. He knew they still had a lot of catching up to do. But he had a whole four hours in the car to worry about that. Right now, he let himself be happy.

.

.

.

The drive was long but neither of them was tired. Harry and Y/N blasted music in their car while driving away from the big city, singing songs they didn't know all the words to at the top of their lungs with the windows down and wind in their hair. Harry couldn't recall the last time he'd felt this free. He didn't have to worry about all the responsibilities waiting for him in London, nor think about how his manager would react when he found out Harry had rescheduled another interview for personal reasons. At that moment, in his car driving down the empty country road, it was just him and her and no one else.

When the music had become louder than their own voices, Harry stole a quick glance at the girl sitting by his side. She was too distracted by the beautiful sunset to continue singing or even catch his eyes on her.

"Watch out!"

Harry steered the wheel just in time to dodge the massive hole on the road. The car bounced ahead pretty hard, causing him to grip onto the wheels and her to scream out loud. Fortunately, both were safe as was the car but his heart was still beating out of control. When he turned to give her an apologetic grin, she smacked him right on the arm, telling him to be careful or else they would be dead before they even reached the graveyard. That threat really had the 24-year-old rooted to his seat. Maybe from now on, he should keep his eyes on the road instead of her.

When they arrived at Graceland Cemetery in Holmes Chapel, the sky was already pitch dark. Under the pale moonlight, the iron front gate looked exactly like one of those gateways to hell in the horror films she was obsessed with but he loathed deeply. He walked closer to her, one arm hugging the bouquet of lilies to his chest, the other gripping onto her arm as they passed many headstones laying all out of order on the muddy ground. It took them five minutes or so to get to where Y/N's mother was laid.

The girl kneeled down on the sew grass without minding the soil would ruin her beautiful white dress. She burnt three jasmine scented candles on the ground after laying the lilies down by her mother's grave.

"Happy birthday, mum," she mumbled, smiling at the grey stone with her mother's name on it. "I love and miss you very much, and I'm so sorry that I'm late today."

Watching her from the side made Harry feel like he was intruding the special mother-daughter moment and he intended to walk away. But all it took was one sound of his name from her lips and Harry's feet immediately grew roots into the ground.

"Harry is with me. He drove me all the way here from London so I could see you." With a faint smile, she turned to him. "Don't worry. He takes very good care of me."

The green-eyed man could hear his heartbeats echoing in his ear as all the hair on his arms stood to attention. He didn't know whether it was because of the cool April breezes blowing through his thin jacket, or the fact that they were in the middle of a graveyard, or the lovely hue in her sparkling eyes as they were gazing at him. What he did knew was in that very moment she might also feel the same, maybe a little if not entirely. And that was all it mattered.

.

.

.

"Since we're already here, do you wanna stop by to say hello to Anne?"

"My mum's on vacation actually. There's nobody home," Harry said as he made his way to Y/N, standing with his back against the car like she was as they both looked up at the magnificent view above their heads, a sky full of stars.

The sight was almost surreal, like the whole world had been covered in black velvet with little diamonds strung up as decorations. For too long Harry had been living in the big city where all the best views were hidden behind skyscrapers, and the busy lives on the ground didn't allow him to look up, not even once. Now in an open field with just them two and the sound of crickets chirping in fading moonlight, he could finally feel alive.

"You don't get to see this in London, right?" She said as both of them turned to look at each other at the same time.

"I think I've missed out on a lot of things since I left this town," he said, almost as a soft whisper for only them to hear. The stars were mirrored in her crystal clear eyes like little shiny specks of magic dust. The sight of it reminded him of the lake behind his high school on a summer night, when it looked like the water had captured the moon and all the stars. To him, Y/N was no different from that summer late. She carried the entire universe in those eyes.

"Harry," her voice, with the help of a cold breeze, soon dragged him back to reality. She was still looking at him and her expression was unreadable as she questioned, "have you ever considered talking Anne into selling that house?"

"No. She loves that place too much," he said. "Gemma and I don't wanna sell it either."

There was a pause.

"Thank you," she finally said, giving him another smile and looking up again.

Harry knew she meant to ask about their treehouse. She wanted to know if he'd ever thought about selling away one of the few things that were proof of what they used to have. Then she thanked him because he hadn't. Somewhere deep inside he felt joy because now he knew she still looked back to those days to the kids they once were. Maybe the part of him inside of her had never really faded away.

"Do you wanna stop by our treehouse?" He asked all of a sudden and he could tell from her reaction that she was taken aback.

"No, thanks." Y/N shook her head. "I might run into those two."

"Your dad and Marcy."

She confirmed with a sigh, puckering up her lips.

"I got their wedding invitation last week," he said, smiling at her but she was far from happy to hear that.

"I did too, but it's now in the bin." She shrugged, eyes on the stars whereas he was still staring at her. "I'm not going to their wedding."

"Why?"

"Because that would make me feel like I'm betraying my mother."

"But that's your dad. He really wants you to show up."

"So? He's a shit dad anyway."

Harry knew it wasn't his business when he received that stubborn eye-roll from her. He understood that she had every single right to hate that man for all he had done to her and her mother. But Harry cared about Y/N too much to let her keep tormenting herself and her father this way.

"Look, kid, I know he's shit at being a dad but...at least...he's still trying to be one."

That sentence made Y/N turn her head to face him once again. It had been too long, yet she could still remember the photo he had kept in his bedroom. The only photo of the man she had never seen before.

When nine-year-old Y/N asked him who it was, thirteen-year-old Harry hesitated for a little while before telling her it was his father. Before then she had assumed that every dad had to either live with their children, or come visit them once in a while like Celine’s dad. But from Harry's story, she learned that not every father wanted to be close to their kids and watch them grow. Harry's father had left his family since Harry was still too young to remember. Just like Y/N, he had never met the man. His mother had thrown away everything that belonged to his father, except for that one photo the little boy found in the attic and decided to keep as a secret. He had never shown it to anyone but the little girl next door.

Eyes still on her, Harry took a deep breath and squeezed the hand she put on her knee. "You don't have to forgive everything he's done but please don't cut him off for good. At least show up at his wedding."

"I can't do it alone." She shook her head fast and lowered it so she could stare at her feet instead of him. "I couldn't even have dinner with them alone..."

"Then I'll go with you. Sounds good?" He titled his head to read her face, squeezing the girl's hand a little bit tighter to remind her that he was there for her.

And after a moment of thinking, she finally answered, "I'll think about it and...let you know."

.

.

.

It was nearly 8PM when Harry and Y/N got back into their car to head back to London. The drive home was rather silent since both of them had been exhausted and it was getting late. They put on some slow songs and drove through the night with eyes kept away from each other. The scent of candle wax mixed with fresh soil still remained on her clothes. It smelt rather delicate, reminding him of a garden full of jasmines, and he loved it just as much as he knew she did.

"Where have you been?" She finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them both.

"Where have I been?"

"In the last two weeks. What? You have a tendency of ghosting on the people in your life once in a while?"

The people in his life, he knew she meant her and Isaac. He couldn't straight off tell her that he'd only been avoiding them while keeping contact with everyone else in his life. She wouldn't understand and hate him as much as she had before.

So he told her he'd been busy getting ready for a new role for a movie which started shooting in the summer. It was also the truth, well, half of it. He'd left out the part about him trying to figure out what he wanted and what he was willing to give up in order to be happy. By the end, he'd realized that he missed her too much to be able to stay away from her life and still feel joy at the same time. He'd done it before, living six years without knowing where or how she was. But now that she had come back, he must admit that it was a struggle trying not to think about her every second of the day.

"Don't worry. I won't disappear like that again," he said.

She didn't reply and he didn't hope that she would believe him. He could always show her that he was sincere.

Harry parked his car outside her building and they both got out at the same time. He was slightly disappointed because he wanted to open the car door for her like they did in those romantic films. But then again he remembered, his Bambi was never one of those cliché leading girls.

Before he could open his mouth to say goodnight and goodbye, Y/N pulled him into a sudden hug and thanked him for everything he'd done for her that day.

"Do you want to come in?" She asked, to his surprise. "There's ice cream in the fridge."

Her offer made him smile.

"I would love to," he said and for sure meant it. "But I can't. I've got dinner with Niall."

"Dinner at midnight?"

"That restaurant opens until 3AM." He shrugged, checking his watch. "But...I'm kind of an hour late now."

"Oh, okay. See you another time then?"

"Sure." He stroked her tangled hair and pressed his lips to her forehead as he wished her goodnight. When they parted, he felt strangely incomplete even though she wasn't even out of sight. Harry now began to think he had turned into one of those clingy high school boys who couldn't stop missing his secret crush, and the fact that he had just implied that she was his secret crush was already too embarrassing. He had no control of whatever going on inside his brain anymore, and he felt like it should be a bad thing.

"What are you doing next Friday night?" He shouted out the question, making the girl turn around just as she reached the glass doors.

"Uh...Probably studying for my finals. Why?"

"You stay at home and study on your birthday?" The amusement in that question of his had her eyes widened and her jaw fell open. That was when the man realized she had not only forgotten her mother's birthday, but also her own.

"Right." She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fists. "Now that I remember. I do have plans on that night."

"Oh...With Isaac?"

"Yeah." She nodded.

Even though he had already seen it coming and received that apologetic look from her, Harry still felt like crap. He told her it was no big deal as he got back into his car and started the engine. They waved at each other one last time before he departed. This time, the girl stayed exactly where she was, watching his car until it blended into the moving traffic on the busy avenue.

.

.

.

"Sorry, I'm late!"

"Aren't you always?"

Niall blew up his cheeks as he closed the menu in his hand, dark blue eyes narrowed at Harry, who was still trying to catch his breath as he told the waiter to get him whatever his friend had already ordered.

"And two glasses of Cheval Blanc 2010," he quickly added, with a smile.

"We only sell that by the bottle, sir."

"Bring me a bottle then."

"Wait." Niall held up a hand just as the waiter turned away. "He'll have a glass of water."

"A glass of water?" The actor snorted.

Niall Horan was the least serious person he'd ever known but this time the guy wasn't joking. The singer nodded his head, telling the waiter to leave them and intertwined his fingers on the table, intense eyes staring his best friend down.

"You can't show up here drunk and order a whole bottle of wine, Harold."

"I'm not drunk."

"Then why's your face red and why do you keep smiling like an idiot?"

That one simple question got Harry tongue-tied. He thought he might know the answer. But he couldn't even say it to himself let alone to his best friend who couldn't even keep a secret for longer than a day. Of course, he loved Niall with all his heart and would do anything for that man had he asked just once. But there was a good reason he would always confide in Isaac and had to think twice before confessing something to his other best friend.

"Are you sure you're sober, Harold?" Niall asked, probably still suspecting Harry was lying to him

"I am. Absolutely!"

"Good. I don't wanna see you as that drunk mess when the witch left again."

Niall paused as soon as he realized what he had just said, slowly lifting his eyes to check his best friend's reaction. Despite not mentioning any name, he knew Harry could already tell whom he was referring to. Of course, Niall didn't mean to bring her up at a happy dinner like this, it just slipped out by accident. Now he felt so bad about it.

Harry hadn't thought about Ruby for weeks now. He'd blocked her number and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd checked social media to see what she had been up to. Ever since the BAFTAs, the name Ruby Ellis had completely vanished from his mind. But Niall accidentally bringing her up tonight was almost like opening up an old wound.

Harry didn't know how to describe his relationship with Ruby, if it was ever a relationship. But his feelings for her had been real. His pain, his jealousy, his tears, his nightmares, all of them had been real. He couldn't even describe the post-goodbye since it had been the worst six months of his entire life. He would wake up in the middle of the night screaming her name and reaching out to search for her figure only to hold onto air on the empty side of his bed. What he and Ruby had together was heaven and hell at the same time. So when he'd escaped from the maze that was her heart, and finally looked back from an outsider's point of view, he realized how wrong she had been for him, how much she had damaged him, physically and emotionally.

But he had loved her. He really had loved her. So much to the point even now if he was walking down the street, he would turn his head the second he smelt her favorite perfume on a stranger. However, some people were only meant to stay in your memory and not in your heart or your arms, and Harry had to learn it the hardest way in order to let her go.

"Don't worry. I'm not going back there again," he said, giving his best friend a reassuring smile.

"I believe in you." Niall reached out to hold his wrist. "She taught you to smoke and you quitted. Now you could quit her."

That sounded so sad, yet so true.

His ex-lover was nothing more than a bad habit.

The mood at the two gentlemen's table was lifted once again when the waiter from earlier returned with their food and two crystal glasses of mineral water. Niall had quite a passion for food as he did for music, so the look on his face when he saw the steaming dishes laid down in front of his eyes made Harry dissolve into laughter.

"I'm gonna take a photo for Isey," said the singer as he unlocked out his phone and rose from his chair to find a good angle for the shot.

"Why isn't he here though?" Harry asked. "Is he busy?"

"What are you talking about? He's in Rome right now. Didn't he tell you?"

"He's on vacation?"

"More like workation." Niall sat back down, rolling his eyes and put his phone away to grab the napkin. "You should try the fish, Harry. It's marvelous."

"Niall, what do you mean?" Harry honestly couldn't concentrate on eating at the moment to even think about how marvelous the fish was. "He's working in Italy? For how long?"

"At least six months or more. I don't know."

"Six months? But Y/N's birthday is next week."

"Who's Y/N?"

Harry sighed in frustration as he corrected himself, "Bambi."

"Oh, right! The Bambi/Smiley girl." Niall chuckled, shaking his head. "Isey asked her to be his girlfriend last week, but at that point, he still hadn't received the offer to shoot for Vogue Italy. Somehow Smiley...I mean Bambi found out about it so she turned him down. Isey was really sad so he flew off to Rome without telling anyone, and I just found out last night when I asked him to come with us. I assumed you'd already known because he always told you everything."

As Niall went on with his speculations about how Y/N had discovered the Vogue thing, Harry could only try to make sense why she'd lied to him that she had birthday plans with Isaac, knowing the guy was in Rome. Maybe she didn't want Harry to feel pity for her, maybe she just wanted to be alone, or maybe she thought he had done too much for her and didn't want him to show up at her door with a teddy bear and pink balloons with her initial on them. Anyway, her two best friends were in Boston and she obviously wouldn't come home for dinner with her dad and his new woman. So he couldn't let her celebrate her 20th birthday with a stack of books and way too much caffeine. Harry had missed many of her birthdays already and that was entirely his fault. But this time he had to do things differently.

"Niall." He calmly looked at his friend who had already finished half of the fish. "Do you happen to know any stargazing spot in London?"

[mariequitecontrarie]

Put Me In, Coach

Summary: Gideon is playing little league baseball and the Gold-Swan-Mills family has trouble remembering they’re only spectators. A/N: Marie’s kiddos are into baseball this year so this happened.  A little magical family AU. I took some license with the kids’ ages. Written for the May @a-monthly-rumbelling​: limelight, sparkle, tap. Thanks to @galactic-pirates for helping! Rating: T

On AO3

The crack of the bat splintered the air, and the baseball catapulted deep into left field.

Belle shot to her feet with a raucous yell, clapping her hands and bouncing up and down on the bleachers. “Run, Roland, run!”

Young Roland Hood was diving headfirst into third base by the time the opposing team got the ball back into the infield, his hit driving Neal Junior and August across home plate.

Billows of red dust settled across the ballfield and Belle brushed the dirt off her thighs and plopped back down on the bench. Gideon’s baseball team, the Storybrooke’s Golden Nuggets, had pulled ahead by three. At the bottom of the ninth and final inning, the score stood tied at 4-4.

Another base hit, and they’d be knocking on victory’s door.

Belle poked him in the arm like a little girl and his lips quirked upward. “Rumple, did you see that hit?” she asked, catching her breath.

His smirk bloomed into a lopsided grin. Watching his wife watch was one of the best parts of the game. “Of course I did. A triple and two runs-batted-in. Well done, Roland.”

Another poke, this time in the ribs. “Why aren’t you on your feet, cheering for the team?”

He waved a gnat away from his face lazily. “I’m not one for shouting and jumping, sweetheart, but I enjoy your excitement. He really knocked the cover off the ball, didn’t he?”

She whistled under her breath, sounding impressed. “Look at you, up on all the baseball lingo.”

“It’s the great American pastime,” he drawled.

“And just how long have you been waiting to turn that particular phrase?”

“No matter.” He rubbed his fingers together in anticipation. “I’m a patient man, sweetheart.”

Rumplestiltskin shaded his eyes with the heel of his hand and scanned the crowd. Granny Lucas was in the stands, as she was at every game, seated beside Marco and guarding her cooler. It was bursting with sports drinks, and homemade ice cream sandwiches made with her fresh chocolate chip cookies, reserved for when the children were done playing. Clark reached out to open the cooler lid but Granny smacked him on the hand before he could poach a treat.

The Charmings were here, of course, to cheer for Neal Junior, and because David was the Head Coach. On the bench behind him and Belle sat Regina, Emma, and Neal, cheering for Gideon and encouraging Henry, who was helping out as David’s Assistant Coach.

It was quite a turnout for eight-year-old little league, but post-curse Storybrooke was a snug little town determined to support its own. Nothing bad had happened in ages, and if their biggest problem was smuggling baseball teams from the Land Without Magic back and forth across the town line without incident, that suited the Golds just fine.

“All you need now is some Cracker Jack, Rumple,” Belle said. It was the quintessential baseball snack and one of his favorites.

“If only my clever wife brought me some,” he teased back.

Her blue eyes sparkled with delight, reminding him of when she used to ply him with raspberry cakes in the Dark Castle as a distraction. While he popped sweet after sweet into his mouth and sipped on cinnamon tea laced with sugar, she would poke through his cabinets of magical artifacts as though she was getting away with something. Little did she know, he’d been a willing accomplice to her snooping.

“Have I ever forgotten to bring you snacks?” While Gideon strode up to the plate to take his turn at bat, Belle pulled a red, white, and blue cardboard box of caramel-coated popcorn and peanuts from the knapsack at her feet.  

Neal tapped Belle on the shoulder. “Got any more of that?”

Belle smiled and passed him three more boxes—one for him, one for Emma, and one for Regina.

“You’re like a walking concessions stand, Belle.” Neal tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth. “This is better than a New York Yankees game. All I need now is a beer and a chili dog.”

“How about after the game?” Belle offered with a wink. “Cookout at our house.”

Neal hesitated. “Is Papa grilling?”

“Always,” Belle said. They all knew she always burned the hot dogs.

“Then you’re on.” Neal ripped open his Cracker Jack box with a grin.

“Two outs,” Head Umpire Leroy shouted from behind home plate.

“Let’s go, Gideon!” From his post by the dugout, Coach David cupped his hands and shouted. “Tap your bat on the plate and get set, kiddo.”

While the spectators held their collective breath, Gideon’s gold jersey sparkled like drops of sunshine against the crystal blue sky, clipped grass, and orange clay. The beauty of the uniforms was a particular point of pride for Rumplestiltskin, as he had chosen and pad for them himself.

“I’ve never understood why players tap home plate when they’re batting.” Belle gestured at Gideon, who was pounding the plate with the thick end of the bat like his life depended on it.

“It’s so the batter can make sure his feet are in the right position.” Neal’s voice floated over their shoulders. “You wanna know you can touch the edges of the plate.”

“Others say it’s part of a wordless game within a game.” Rumple lifted the brim of Belle’s baseball cap, then pulled it down snug across her brow. “I read in a book that baseball is an enigma of signs and signals, sweetheart, inspired by the American Civil War.”

“I can’t think about books right now, Rumple.” Belle clasped her hands.

He would have checked her for a fever if he hadn’t known she was pouring all her attention into watching their son. “Come on, Number 12!” Belle called to Gideon, then unclenched her hands to chew her thumbnail.

Gideon’s turn at bat was always nerve-wracking and Belle murmured under her breath, pleading with the gods to grant him a hit. He’d already struck out twice this game, and this would be his last chance to bat today.

From his post on the pitching mound, Hook lobbed the ball over the plate, and Gideon swung and missed.

“Strike one!” Leroy called.

“Good swing, Gideon.” Coach David clapped while he paced the third base line. “Next one’s your pitch.”

“Why is Hook pitching again?” Regina asked. “I thought this was a children’s league.”

“If the shiny, swashbuckling shoe fits,” Rumple hissed.

“Rumple,” Belle said, her tone carrying a warning. “Hook’s helping. Be kind.”

“Henry told us this about 15 times,” Emma said. “It’s called ‘coach pitch.’ Kids at this age don’t pitch consistently, so they bring in an adult who can lob it in nice and easy.”

Belle put her hands over her eyes. “I can’t look.” She stole another long glance anyway, peeking through her fingers while another pitch sailed through the air, this one low and skirting the outside of the plate.

Gideon had the good sense to leave that one alone. Most of the kids swung at anything within reach but they were eight and, at this level, the game was more about fun than skill. Or so Belle kept telling him.

Rumple plucked a popcorn kernel from his Cracker Jack and popped it into his mouth, glaring at Hook between bites. Not that he would have been any better at pitching, but the fact that his nemesis was also David’s Assistant Coach irked him to no end.

“Ball one!” Leroy shouted.

Henry signaled to David, called a time out, and jogged out to home plate. He whispered in Gideon’s ear, then patted the top of his helmet with a clenched fist. Whatever Henry had said made Gideon grin, and Rumple’s rib cage felt too small to contain his heart. The relationship between his son and grandson was one of his greatest joys. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.

He slipped his hand back into the box of popcorn and wriggled his fingers.

“What’s happening now?” Belle asked when Henry returned to the dugout.

“Gideon has one more pitch coming,” Rumple reported, his gaze pinned to the action.

“Yes, he’s still standing at the plate.” The heat of her pointed stare was unnerving. “I meant you. What are you doing?”

He froze with his hand in the cardboard box, his fingertips sticky with salty caramel and his neck flushed with guilt. “Looking for the prize in the box,” he fibbed.

On his last pitch Gideon swung, and the bat hit the ball with a satisfying smack. The baseball sailed over the outfield like it had wings and bounced off the fence.

On their team’s side of the field, the crowd erupted in applause and shouts and whistles.

His wife’s hands went from covering her face to framing her hips as she watched Gideon race around the bases and pound his foot on home plate. Belle was smiling and cheering with the rest of them, but when she turned to him her eyes were cloudy.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Rumple, you can shift the weather so the rain comes after the game, poof the opposing team’s kids and their families in and out of town so they believe Storybrooke is a normal place, outfit our players with the best athletic equipment money can buy, and build a stadium with an electronic scoreboard. But I draw the line at cheating.”

He offered his most winning smile. “Sweetheart, have I told you how much I like that navy cap? It really brightens your eyes.”

“Rumple!”

“So I’m helping the boy.” His ears turned red at the tips and he shifted on the bleachers. “I help the others too,” he added defensively.

“Equal opportunity cheating. How novel.” She rested a hand on his knee, the affectionate pat softening the sting of her words. “Darling, just let them play. It’s supposed to be fun.”

There was that word again. Fun.

“Winning is fun,” he pronounced, noting with approval how Gideon’s teammates crowded around him for high-fives as the game ended with the Golden Nuggets winning 6 to 4. Acceptance. Belonging. They were the sweetest of feelings and with the exception of his wife and son, Rumplestiltskin had known far too little of both in his life. He wouldn’t allow his son to suffer a similar fate.

“They’re children,” Belle said, shaking her head. “Their goals in life are wearing jerseys and stuffing their faces with ice cream after the game.”

A meaty finger jabbed him in the back. “Did you do it again?”

He turned around and blinked at his son. “Do what?”

“Pop, come on.” Neal ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. “You’re not as subtle as you think.”

After all these years Neal still didn’t trust magic and had relegated its use to the ‘for emergencies only’ category.

“I beg to differ.” Rumple glanced back at the field while players from both teams lined up on the field to shake hands. He was exactly as subtle as he thought and more. “Who else knows what I did except for you?”

Regina crushed a peanut between clenched teeth and fixed Rumple with a stare that made lesser beings cower. He glared back, unashamed. As though she hadn’t, and wouldn’t, commit every weapon in her arsenal to offer Henry an advantage!

Emma sipped her soda and frowned down at a blade of grass on the bleachers.

“Who knows isn’t the point.” Neal shook his head. “Gideon’s my baby brother and of course I want him to enjoy the limelight once in a while. Thing is, Papa, you’re not doing his playing any favors by cheating for him.”

“Better my help than the pirate’s,” Rumple growled.

“If you’re so concerned about the quality of play, you could have volunteered to coach the team yourself,” Neal fired back. “Man, you really can’t stand to lose, can you?”

“Lose? We won,” Rumple crowed. So what if he’d helped his son’s team along? Helping the team was the sponsor’s job. And if he used a touch of magic to tip the odds in their favor, where was the harm? It wasn’t as though he used magic at every game. They’d even lost one. He had gritted his teeth throughout that cloudy, humid afternoon, but he’d let it happen.

“We could have won without the cheating,” Regina stood and crossed her arms. “Now we’ll never know.”

He tightened his fingers around the edge of the bench. “ Do you really think you should be the judge of morality, Your Majesty? The woman who cursed an entire kingdom because a little girl told a secret.”

“Not this again.” Neal closed his eyes.

“Your curse to get back to your son.” Regina’s tone could have chipped ice.

“And I’d do it all again,” Rumplestiltskin snarled. “As would you, if you had enough grace and guts to admit it.”

“Maybe instead of arguing over a minor thing like a father supporting his son with a harmless little spell, we could have been watching the game.” Emma swatted popcorn crumbs off her jeans like they were stinging nettles. “Gideon scored and I missed the whole thing!”  

Neal’s mouth dropped open. “You agree with what Papa’s doing?”

“Look, all I’m saying is Gold’s not the first parent to try to make a tough situation easier on his kid and he won’t be the last.” Emma peered into her empty Cracker Jack box.

Neal straddled the bench with a labored sigh. “Is that some sort of code?”

“Yes, to which tough situation are you referring, Emma?” Regina’s lip curled at the corner.

“You know how worried Henry was about last week’s chemistry exam?” Emma winced. “Well, I might’ve used my mom’s login to crack into the school computer system and get the answers to the test.”

“You helped my son cheat?” Regina shouted the last word and a few people sent them curious glances. Fortunately, Henry and Gideon were still busy with their post-game pep talk and didn’t notice.

“Our son.” Emma’s cheeks turned pink. “And I only gave him a few answers, not the entire test!”

“Oh, it was only part of the test.” Regina threw up her hands. “I feel so much better.”

This was an interesting development, to be sure. His son’s brow was furrowed in confusion, the Queen looked like her head was going to explode, Belle was gnawing on lower her lip like she’d missed breakfast, and Rumplestiltskin wasn’t unhappy for his family’s ire to be directed somewhere other than at him. Respect mingled with kinship in a way he’d never experienced with Emma. While he didn’t consider tacos and hot chocolate to be two of the four major food groups, her approach to parenting was logical. Why let your child wrestle with something when it was within your power to smooth the way?

“Enough!” Belle stomped her foot, making the bleachers clang. “Gideon and Henry are headed this way and I think this is the last conversation they need to hear.”

Neal pouted. “So no chili dogs, huh?”

Belle’s nostrils flared, a sure sign she was running low on patience. “I said no more fighting, not no more eating. See you at the house.”

xoxo

Their backyard cookout ended with the setting of the sun. Neal, Emma, Regina, and Henry had all gone home and there had been no more debate about baseball, chemistry tests, or the principles of proper parenting.

Belle’s relief was palpable as she scraped the remnants of hot dogs smothered in chili and coleslaw into the sink and dumped the paper plates into the trash. Bowls and platters that had brimmed with chips, potato salad, brownies, and Regina’s famous apple turnovers now sported only a smattering of crumbs.

Clearly, the tension hadn’t ruined anyone’s appetite.

Rumple ran the disposal and turned on the taps, filling the kitchen sink with hot, soapy water. He always washed the dishes and Belle always dried, just as he always fired up the grill while she always set the table. The easy cadence of their routine was immensely comforting.

“Why don’t they remind Gideon to throw to second base when he’s playing center field?” he asked when Gideon had gone upstairs with a snack size bag of pretzels and yet another ice cream sandwich. “He needs to hit the cutoff man if they’re going to get the ball back into the infield.”

“I only understood every third word of that sentence, love.” Belle plucked a clean towel from the drawer and lifted a wet platter from the drying rack. “But I think the bottom line is they’re too young. Those skills will come with time and practice.”

“The cutoff man is the player you throw to when you’re too far into the outfield.” He scrubbed a pan until it shone. “And there’s no such thing as too young to learn to do things properly, sweetheart.”

He passed her a pair of clean barbecue tongs after shaking the excess water into the sink.

“Properly? You mean like charging his bat with a little extra zing before he hits, or how a ball that flew over his head in the first inning somehow landed in his glove?” She shoved the dry tongs in a drawer with the spatula and slammed it.

“Says the woman who runs the mysterious magical library.” He snorted. “I haven’t heard any complaining when the characters pop out of the pages of novels and come to life at your story hour. Then it’s ‘all magic comes with a price, dearie.’”

“It’s not the same and you know it. You’re cheating.” Belle rolled her eyes and smacked his ass with her damp dish towel.

He danced away and laughed. “Don’t think of it as cheating. Think of it as protecting an investment.”

He was being glib but it was easier this way. When he was a boy, he’d been rubbish at sports. Because he was too puny and weak to throw a ball with any distance and force, the other village children had laughed at him. Rather than being encouraging and teaching him how to play their games, his father used to join them in their jeers. His father, the self-proclaimed king of games, had refused to play with his own son.

Even now, with all his power and wealth, the humiliation made his ears burn.

If you couldn’t be popular, be powerful. That was the lesson life had taught him. No longer in a playful mood, he stared into the sink filled with dingy bubbly water and blinked away tears.  

Sensing his upset the way she always did, Belle came up behind him to wrap her arms around his waist and lay her cheek against his back. “What’s really troubling you, love?”

“It’s ridiculous,” he said, trying not to stiffen at her gentleness. Belle knew all about his past with his father.

“Try me.” She pressed a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades.

He turned around and drew her close. “I can’t help Gideon the way other parents can help their children. I can’t pitch like Emma or improve his stance like Bae. I don’t throw and catch well, and I can’t smile and encourage the players the way David can. Even a one-handed pirate has more game than I do.”

He didn’t say I’m just like my father, but they both knew what he was thinking.

“That’s not true. You’re an excellent swordsman.” She kissed his chin. “Besides, it’s not as though I have an athletic bone in my body.”

“No, you can only hike five miles before you break a sweat. And you read six languages including Fae. But who’s keeping track?”

She laughed. “You’re no slouch in the smarts department yourself, sir.”

“Yes, I cheated and I know it was wrong. But I don’t want Gideon to suffer the pain of being unsuccessful the way I have.” He shrugged. “The boy wants to play baseball and he wants to be good. He wants his friends to like him. I thought if I helped things along...it was my way of doing my part.”

“Unsuccessful?” She took his face between her hands and cupped his chin. “Listen to me, Rumplestiltskin. You’re the richest man in town and the most talented but you never steal the limelight. You acquire wonderful things for the shop for people to buy, you purchase crates of books for the library, you commissioned a new wing for the school. The properties you own provide people with affordable, safe homes. When you spin, it’s like poetry. And you are nothing like your father.”

“Belle.” Emotion welled up in his chest at her praise. She’d known what he needed to hear even when he didn’t. “Sweetheart, do you mean it?”

“Absolutely. This baseball team is the Golden Nuggets because of you. You’re their sponsor. The uniforms, the equipment—it all came from you. I wanted Gideon to get a hit today, too. You’re protecting and loving him the best way you know how. But sometimes part of being his parents means having to stand by and watch him fail. If we fix everything for him, how will he grow and learn?”

Belle was right. He hated to admit it, but it was true.

He nodded. “Would it be alright if I promise not to do it again but we don’t tell him about today or any of this?” He didn’t want to look like an old fool in front of his son.

“Of course.” Belle inched closer and wound her arms around his neck. “In the meantime, I have a great idea for how we can help Gideon with his game in a way that’s fair.”

“What is it?”

“Tomorrow, you can take Gideon to the batting cages to practice his swing.” She lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. “And tonight, you can take me to bed and show me yours.”

He frowned, confused. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Her eyes roamed over his body, dark with appreciation. “It’s my understanding you have quite the bat of your own.”

“I do enjoy a good game of baseball.” He grinned. “Lead the way, Mrs. Gold.”

###

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: Vol. 5 Rest and Resolutions + Alone Together

This is a re-posting from December 8th, 2017 in an effort to get all my recaps fully on tumblr. Thanks!

Hello, everyone! I apologize for the two week gap between reviews. Academia caught up with me in the worst way possible, but that is behind us now, hallelujah. There's a lot to cover in our last two episodes, so let's dive straight in.

First off, Ozpin is the Wizard theory confirmed.

We all knew it was coming, but it's still nice to finally have validation for that idea. Often times writers will deliberately askew what the viewers expect to happen in a failed attempt at originality (see Sherlock's season 3 premiere), but if you've planted the hints there's every reason to follow through with them. In true RWBY fashion though, this information leads to even more questions. I'm particularly interested in this balance between history and storytelling. That is, the version of Ozpin-as-Wizard that we hear about is explicitly a fairy tale and we all know that time has a tendency to twist events, especially when people begin to view them as just old wive's tales, rather than actual truth. All we really know is that Ozpin indeed gave much of his power to four girls, creating the original Maidens. However:

Did he really isolate himself like the story says? Honestly, if I'd been dealing with all Ozpin's shit I'd probably hide in the woods too.

How soon after receiving the curse did all this go down?

Depending on that timing, did Ozpin have reincarnations before he was the Wizard? Or is that his original form? A lot of fans still assume that he was also the King of Vale, though where that fits into the timeline is a little unclear.

Did Ozpin know at the time that his magic was finite? Or was this the event that clued him in?

Did he give the four women magic in a deliberate attempt to stop Salem? Or, like the story implies, was there a broader reason, the desire to give these women the power to continue spreading hope? That would certainly fit with the show's "honest soul" theme (and perhaps an indicator that characters like Ruby have something to teach Ozpin even as he teaches them, just as the original Maidens did).

Are the Maidens' powers connected to their original gifts? Winter is the Maiden of creation and encouraged Ozpin to meditate and reflect. Summer is destruction and, interestingly, told Ozpin to "step outside and embrace the world." Spring brought food and flowers to revitalize his garden and is the Maiden of knowledge, while Fall is choice and reminded Ozpin to be thankful for what he has. I can see some similarities among all that...

We might not ever get answers to questions like these. Unlike other fantasy series, RWBY is rather restricted by its medium--you can't spend page after page explaining nuanced world building as you would in a novel; we've only got about fifteen minutes max each episode and plenty of more important issues to tackle first. Still, it's something.

Besides that confirmation, "Rest and Resolutions" really lives up to its name. We have all the kids enjoying a happy meal together, with only Oscar noticeably absent. (I know, I know, he's housing Ozpin's soul and Ozpin needs to have Important Conversations with Qrow about the missing huntsmen, but let the kid hang out a bit with people closer to his age, yeah?) Much of this volume has been recap of one form or another, so as to make sure that each character is caught up on what everyone else has been doing and are aware of the information that others/the viewer already knows about. Ruby and co.'s conversation works similarly, only these callbacks are meant to induce a sense of nostalgia rather than act as firm plot foundation.

Jaune recounts "loosing" the map on their travels. Jaune. You literally threw it away when you realized that an entire town had been besieged by grimm. Like, I get that losing their map isn't great, but at least the guy is really invested in the welfare of others?

(cough--comforting Pyrrha instead of watching the door--cough)

(It's actually a personality "flaw" that, as we've seen twice now, can cause some serious consequences.)

The kids take turn complimenting one another (aww) and Ruby says that Ren was "out of control" during the fight against the Nuckelavee. I've seen a few autistic!Ren headcanons over the years and this perhaps can be read as evidence to support that. Ren drastically misreads the tone and intention of Ruby's comment, apologizing quite sincerely for his behavior and personal investment in that fight. It's only when Ruby clarifies that she meant it as a compliment that Ren understands... and thanks her. There's a lot of acceptance and support in this moment.

Weiss alludes to summoning her boar during the party (Ruby: "You did not!") and when Nora doesn't believe her Weiss summons the boar right next to her, startling the hell out of poor Nora. This really shows how much Weiss has improved. There's no hesitation, no need to concentrate--she just summons it up with pure ease right in the middle of a conversation.

I was actually rather surprised by Nora's reaction. Yeah, the jump scare was played for humor, but that combined with her horror at Yang detaching her arm... Nora seems a little... skittish to me?  I might be reading too much into things (I almost certainly am), but between these two moments, the joke about her eating, watching her sneak food last episode... they all read as not so subtle indicators of stress to me. And who can blame the girl.

Other nostalgic moments include our Vol. 1-3 nicknames: Ice Queen and Vomit Boy. The group has a long-overdue acknowledgement of how much they've grown since they were at school, with Ruby in particular delivering the iconic line that she tried to "1v1 a Nevermore on our second day of school." And the Death Stalker, Ruby. God bless this trigger-happy child.

There's also talk of Yang's arm. It did my heart good to see Ruby ooo-ing over the mechanics and Yang looking damn proud of it for once. The arm wrestling contest between her and Nora was, of course, fantastic. Yang's not just embracing this new part of her but actively using it to her advantage... that's exactly where we all knew she'd end up. Can't hold this girl down for long.

Yang: "It's no replacement for the real thing, but I'll make good use of it."

There's a radical tone change once dinner is over and Ozpin rejoins the conversation. Yang is clearly distrustful of him after her talk with Raven (despite the fact that Yang has no reason to trust Raven...) and in true Ozpin style he tries to console her with wisdom and compliments: "Your mother must trust you a great deal" if she told you all that.

Yeah. Sorry, Oz. You know as well as the audience that Raven told those secrets to manipulate her, not because she trusts her. That little strategy fell flat.

Ozpin confirms most of what Raven said though, including that he turned her and Qrow into birds. What Raven of course failed to mention was that they both agreed to the transformation. Whether that agreement was a strong and enthusiastic "Yes!" or the kind of consent that Pyrrha gave--a very complicated scenario with no good choices on the table--is hard to say. My own assumption is that Raven was probably thrilled to be given such a useful power, especially when she intended to turn it against the very community who gave it to her. She only regrets it now that her life hasn't turned out quite as planned. She, like others, is looking to use Ozpin as her scapegoat. 

In fact, we're given no explanation for Raven or Yang's anger here. Raven I can conceptualize--she's the type to blame others for her problems--but Yang? What exactly is so horrific about being turned into a kick-ass bird? As Ozpin describes it, this magic allows Qrow and Raven to "see more" and to be "unburdened" in ways that the normal huntsmen or huntress is not. This ability allows them to spy on Salem rather inconspicuously and, as we've seen in the case of Qrow, is useful in terms of keeping track of other people--like your wayward niece who goes off to try and take on the forces of darkness alone. As far as we've been told there's no downside to this ability beyond the fact that Ozpin's magic is finite, but that hardly effects Qrow. He transforms when he chooses, it doesn't seem to cause him any pain, it grants him an ability outside of his bad luck semblance, he already lives in a world where half the population has animal traits... seriously, where's this anger coming from? Just the fact that magic is an unknown to Yang and therefore scary? It's really unclear and frankly worrying considering how much Yang is basing her accusations and demands around that anger. 

Because the irony is that Yang demands no more secrets from Ozpin. He insists he doesn't keep secrets from them, just plays certain pieces of information close to the chest, but Yang says 'tomato tomahto’ even though, as we’ve just established, that wasn’t Ozpin’s secret to tell. And it has no repercussions that impact the rest of the group. Certainly not the girl who just showed up. I mean, maybe there is still a downside? They’ll definitely be a real backlash if the kids discover there is some horrific consequence to Qrow and Raven's ability and Ozpin didn’t say anything... but again, that’s not fair to Ozpin. Isn’t anyone going to ask Qrow why he kept this from his family? Or ask Yang why she’s suddenly on the side of the mother who abandoned her and is a known killer? Putting all this on Ozpin is, again, pretty worrying. 

Perhaps the most moving moment of the episode though is when Ozpin tells the kids that they can still leave. (Except Oscar of course. This poor kid. He got dragged into this fast and is the only one who's truly stuck with it.) He emphasizes that abstaining from battle is not the same thing as retreat and reminds us that these are just kids and they can't be expected to shoulder it all. No one stands except for Yang... but she's not leaving, just making it clear that whatever Ruby decides to do she'll follow her lead. It re-emphasizes that Ruby isn't just a strategic leader like Jaune is. She's the moral compass of the group. Once Ruby decides to keep fighting--and we know she always will--the rest of her family follows. That’s... not always a good thing though. Everyone needs a reason for fighting this kind of war and I don’t think ‘because Ruby is fighting it too’ is powerful enough to carry them through whatever new hardships they’ll face. 

Because you can’t keep the peace for long. We're left with one hell of a cliff-hanger as Emerald, Mercury, Cinder, and Watts approach Raven's camp, the whole gang demanding an audience--or more likely a Maiden. Every fan who cried over the fact that Emerald isn't in the opening finally got to see their fave prepping for a fight and I for one am looking forward to a real battle this Volume. None of the measly stuff we've seen with Blake or in training. For the first time this will, presumably, be Maiden vs. Maiden and I expect something epic.

Luckily the episode airs soon!

Before that though we have the heart-wrenching episode "Alone Together," wherein three fourths of Team RWBY finally get some downtime together. Ruby is up very early due to difficulty sleeping (who can blame her) and she soon realizes that Weiss and Yang are in the same boat. Loved Yang's sisterly "Boop" with her hair (pick that up from Nora, did you?) and Weiss knows her friends well, dumping an unholy amount of sugar into Ruby's coffee to make sure she likes it. "Nice Weiss strikes again!"

I'm quite liking Nice Weiss this Volume. What a step up from Ice Queen.

There's a bit more recapping--Ruby is called out on her priorities. That fact that they're all together at Haven Academy; that's what she can't believe?--before the conversation quickly turns to when they'll see Blake again. We've watched Yang deal rather well with the loss of her arm this past Volume and she kept a comparatively cool head around her mother. This though... this is what's really been festering.

Yang says that Blake "made her choice" and expresses very little interest in seeing her again. Weiss and Ruby are, understandably, shocked. With shaking hands and a flash of red eyes, Yang finally reveals what's truly been holding her back. Not her arm, not Raven, not any anger at Ruby, but the fact that Blake ran from them. Again.  

It's an understandable flaw on Blake's part, and it's equally understandable that this would nevertheless frustrate and upset Yang. I love that it's Weiss who helps her see Blake's perspective in all this: that after finally opening up to them, everything she'd feared actually did come to pass. The family she'd found was torn apart. Beacon fell. Adam hurt Yang in the worst possible way. She brought down the metaphorical walls around her heart and the literal walls of Beacon crumbled. As far as Blake is concerned, getting close to others really did bring nothing but misery. It's not logical, but emotions rarely are. Of course she's going to try and get as far away from them as possible after that, as well as return to her parents. It was a move born equally from a desire to protect herself as well as others.

It says a great deal about Yang's maturity that she does understand Blake's perspective rather quickly (even if, interestingly, she can’t understand Ozpin’s. A difference in who she actually cares for). Notably this is done through Weiss' own experiences, her admission that they've all experienced their own versions of loneliness. Yang says she doesn't blame Blake for the decision any longer; she's just upset that Blake hasn't realized yet (as Yang herself has) that things are easier when you stick together. That she, Ruby, and Weiss could have supported Blake through this... and that they need her support too. Yang resolves to be there for Blake just as soon as she's ready. The girl has a wealth of love within her. And yes, a lot of that stems from adopting the role of caretaker early, looking after Ruby as a big sister, but the fact that Yang can separate her current desire to protect her friends from that difficult childhood is huge. She knows how trauma has shaped her and she's prepared to make the best of it.

Ruby finally does check up on them and lets out a heartfelt sigh. Everything's okay.

Now, I'll be real interested to see if Yang's shaking lessens after she's reconciled with Blake...

Meanwhile, there's Ilia. And you all know what I'm going to discuss here.

There's a lot to say about her meeting with Blake--the well-played betrayal; our look at how Blake might end up in Mistral; the introduction of a very cool spider faunus; Ilia's speech about how there's no right or wrong, no innocents, just doing "what's best for us" that reminded me strongly of Roman's own speech--but for now, especially given how long this review already is, I want to focus in on her sexuality.

(FYI what I have below was originally written as a separate post, so apologies for the repetition.)

In the past week I've seen numerous complaints about how the fandom is “whining” about finally getting what they want. I’m one of the “whiners,” and this, to be frank, is not what I asked for.

Let’s start with the acknowledgment that yes, no matter who Rooster Teeth chose as their first LBGTQIA character, some people were going to be disappointed. Either because the choice doesn’t fit their ship or because of the dichotomy we’re seeing now: the Good vs. Evil gay character divide. It’s a simple disagreement on the surface that nevertheless houses a lot of important questions and concerns: should you make your gay character one of the Good Guys in order provide positive representation, or should you make them one of the Bad Guys in order to provide diverse representation? Do you send the message that being gay is wonderful by associating it with the heroes, or something that’s natural by associating it with the villains--making a statement that anyone can be LGBTQIA, not just the ones you’re rooting for?

The answer to this dilemma is that you do both. You provide variety in order to likewise provide true, diverse representation. However, the reality is that we haven’t reached a point in most media where you get lots and lots of gay characters to provide lots and lots of diversity… so therefore I feel rather strongly that the first character should be a positive portrayal.

Why? Because we’re not living in a positive world. Because we’re still a part of societies where LGBTQIA people are ridiculed, discriminated, and murdered. Because the idea that it’s not just okay, but fantastic to be gay is FAR from universal.

Because we have a very long, awful history of villains associated with gay stereotypes. Because there’s literally a Psycho Lesbian trope with plenty of examples to choose from. Because we don’t live in a culture where you can casually throw out ‘gay’ + ‘bad guy’ and expect your audience to separate the two critically.

Which brings me back to Ilia.

For all these reasons I was truly disappointed to see that she was our first LBGTQIA character. Out of a wealth of women in this show who love each other in healthy and nuanced ways, they were all bypassed for a character who is currently one of the Bad Guys.

Is Ilia pure evil? Of course not. I’ve mentioned previously about how much we see her struggling with her choices, but she’s currently not on a good path either. More importantly, the way her sexuality is revealed does nothing but position it badly. Let’s break that scene down just a bit. The first LGBTQIA content we’re given is:

A woman who is working for an extremist group that in turn is working for the Big Bad

Ilia reveals her sexuality after having her henchmen abuse Blake, attacking her, forcing her onto her knees, and announcing that they’re currently attempting to murder her parents

Ilia says that she wanted Blake to look at her like she once looked at Adam, intentionally or not drawing parallels between her love and Blake’s abuse

She positions her sexuality as at least partly a justification for her actions. Illia is subtly blaming Blake: if you’d paid more attention to me, maybe none of this would have happened. It actively positions all this horror as at least partly a consequence of same sex attraction

Does all of this craft a rather complex, LGBTQIA character? Absolutely, but it’s also one that left a rather sour taste in my mouth. Overt, same-sex attraction is still so rare in our media and frankly I’m sick of it. I’m sick of vague comments, queer baiting, or promises of something “coming later.” I’m equally sick of burying our gays and having same-sex attraction presented as something that only those who are otherwise sick in their morals would experience. Is it so much to ask for something reaffirming in a series that keeps growing in popularity and influence?

Will there be more LGBTQIA characters in RWBY? I assume so, I hope so, but for now all we have is Ilia. A character who, I’d also like to point out, we barely know. I’m sure she’s lots of fans’ fave, but I for one have little interest in this side character… and her position as a side character makes me nervous for her survival. Her sexuality only compounds that.

Rooster Teeth had a huge opportunity here. LGBTQIA viewers have waited five years to see someone like them in this series and it could have been a really magnificent reveal. It could have been Yang realizing her feelings as she worked through her anger at Blake. Or Weiss realizing hers for Yang as they get closer this Volume. Or Ruby for Weiss. Or Weiss for Blake. Hell, give us a throwaway line about Port and Oobleck being happy husbands, or let Ren be pan, or let Oz admit to same-sex attraction after having lived thousands of years…. I don’t care. I’ll take any ship wars that develop as a consequence. All I wanted was to see a character I know and love embracing their sexuality in a way that reaffirmed how proud I am of my own.

Instead it’s Ilia, admitting feelings for Blake while she plots to kill her parents. While she hurts her and betrays her. Sorry if I find that a little difficult to watch. Sorry if I need to “whine” about it just a bit.

So yes. Needless to say I'm disappointed. After that I couldn't really appreciate Ghira's transformation and concern for his wife, or Kali's badass, "Get out of my house!" As said, the whole scene with Ilia left a bad taste in my mouth. I know Rooster Teeth can do better.

Hopefully we do get better. Preferably soon. This is the perfect, filler kind of Volume to set up more characterization, including queer sexualities, and we've got four more episodes until the hiatus.

Tick, tock, RT.

Other Details of Note

Nora, what exactly happened with you and that punch?

I liked the gears on the wall clock. Which begs the question: where did this house come from? Is it a safe place that Ozpin had set up long before Beacon's fall?

They ate ALL that food. Everything they'd prepared while expecting who knows how many huntsmen/huntresses. Never underestimate the appetites of a group of teenagers.

James and Glynda get mentioned this volume! Everyone rejoice! Now if only we got to see them on screen...

Nora exclaiming about how Qrow and Raven are named after birds was pretty hilarious. It's not like we weren't already thinking it. Despite all the jokes on tumblr though, there's no way Ozpin chose those forms specifically because of the Branwens' names. If anything, this seems to act as evidence that a person's semblance/abilities draws on their personality, rather than the other way around.

There are a number of bird motifs throughout "Alone Together," including our opening shot of Ruby watching them fly overhead and a pair of carved ducks on display in the bedroom where Yang and Weiss chat. It's a nice nod to one of this Volume's major themes. (Or, if we buy into this headcanon that this place is a safe house purchased specifically for Qrow, then Ozpin needs to get called out on his on-the-nose decorating lol).

Yang staring at the team photo hurt in so many ways. Excellent touch there.

We have that acknowledged parallel between Weiss and Ruby, in which Yang (and the audience) expects it to be Ruby knocking on the door, trying to talk. The difference is that now, months later, Yang is actually in a position to open up to someone and that someone is Weiss, now just as much a sister to Yang as Ruby is.  

Confirmation that Weiss' mom is an alcoholic. We knew that was coming too...but still. Yikes.

Yang cries! Let all the children keep crying! It's good and natural!

There's a "nocturnal section" of Menagerie. Of course there is. God I can't believe I didn't think of that.

Ilia can completely blend in with the shadows. It's official now: all Volume 1-3's shadow people are just really, really shy chameleon faunuses. Spread the word.

That blow Blake took seemed to hit her pretty hard. Kind of like how Oscar staggered when he got hit without his aura... could Blake really trust Ilia enough to attend this meeting without proper protection? She might, which makes Ilia's betrayal all the worse. In the episode where Yang talks of letting Blake support and be supported by others, she was finally willing to do that with an old friend. Obviously having that backfire won't help Blake to open up any further.

GIF credit: http://knowyourmeme.com/photos/841077-rwby

[discovering-sex-blog]

Chapter 1

Denise Chapman found a seat at the rear of the bus, in the very back row. She was thankful that the bus wouldn't be crowded. Only about thirty kids would be making the trip to the state fair, and this huge old bus had room for twice that many. Most of the kids were already crowded together in the seats in the front and the middle of the bus. With luck, she'd have the back of the bus all to herself and the trip down to the state fair would be pleasant instead of an ordeal. She'd brought along a half-dozen new teen-romance novels to read. She hoped to get lost in a good story and completely block out this trip she'd been forced to take by her parents.

"You need to socialize more," her mother was always saying. "It's not normal for a girl your age to spend all her time with her nose in a book or doing her chores. You need to meet some boys, to go out on dates, have some fun."

It did no good to tell her mother that she enjoyed doing her chores, that more than anything she enjoyed reading her romance novels, that she much preferred the boys in her books to the flesh-and-blood boys she went to school with. The boys in her novels were all so chivalrous, so non-threatening. The boys at school, on the other hand, were crude and dirty-minded. The flesh-and-blood boys had only one thing on their minds - how to take advantage of a girl every chance they got. And real boys all carried that hard weapon between their legs, that masculine appendage that gave Denise the shivers even to think about. She didn't dare mention to her mother that she was scared to death of boys, and her mother wouldn't listen to her excuses.

So now she forced to go on this darned old trip to the state fair with a bunch of Young Farmers Club kids she didn't know. For her own good, according to her mother.

Her twin brother Tim was up front somewhere, gabbing with some new boyfriend he'd made a few minutes ago. All the other kids had paired up, mostly boys with boys and girls with girls, although a few boys and girls had taken seats together and already looked ready to start necking. The boys and girls were all eyeing each other, and Denise knew that by the time the bus arrived at the state fair grounds sometime early tomorrow morning every girl except herself would be paired up with some boy with a tented crotch. And God only knew what would happen in the barns at the state fair, where all the kids would be spending their nights, sleeping with the animals, and probably acting like a bunch of animals.

"And where do you think you're taking that mutt, young lady?" said the bus driver, his voice booming through the bus and silencing all the kids.

Denise looked up front, along with all the other kids. A blonde girl wearing skin-tight shorts and a bikini halter had just entered the bus, leading a large black dog by its leash. Denise recognized the dog as a black Labrador and even from the back here she could tell it was a male.

The girl tugged on her long blonde hair, some of which fell over the front of her shoulders and onto her half-naked tits. Her tit-cups hardly captured more than her cherries.

"I'm bringing him along," the girl said. "Isn't it all right if I bring him along? I didn't think it would cause any problem." She spoke in a pouting tone, puckering her lips. She balanced on one bare foot, rubbing the toes of her other bare foot up and down her tanned calf.

"I'm not supposed to let any animals on this bus," the driver said. He was a fat, middle-aged man in a gray uniform, and he was sweating heavily in the summer heat.

The blonde girl leaned over, petting her dog on the head. Her tits bulged as they dangled and nearly escaped from their tiny cups. "But he's such a good dog. You won't even know he's here."

The driver gawked at the girl's tits as if he were hypnotized by them. "Well, I don't know -"

"Please, sir, he won't be any trouble at all."

The girl leaned close then, as if she were going to kiss the driver. Instead, she whispered something into his ear.

The driver flushed, streams of sweat running down his chubby cheeks. "Go on," he said. "But you'll have to keep him at the back of the bus. And we aren't making any pit-stops for him. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," the blonde said, smiling as she began to lead the dog up the aisle. "He won't be a bit of trouble sir."

The boys nearly fell out of their seats to get a closer look at the half-naked blonde as she paraded up the aisle, her tits wobbling.

Denise almost panicked. For a moment she had the urge to jump out the window. The blonde was coming straight toward her. She sat there frozen and helpless, however, as the blonde sat down right next to her.

"The old pig," the blonde muttered under her breath for Denise's benefit. "Sit, Romeo," she said to the dog, and the Lab obediently planted its black haunches on the floor.

The driver yanked the door lever and the bus door sealed itself with a sucking noise. He started the bus. Without bothering to turn around toward the kids, he started shouting. "Now listen here, ladies and gentlemen, and listen good. It's four o'clock now, and I'm supposed to deliver you to the state fair before midnight. That means we're gonna be making just two stops, one at seven and one at ten. If you've gotta go, you just hold it - it won't kill you."

Several kids snickered.

"And I don't want any trouble," the driver continued. "You don't give me any trouble and I don't give you any trouble. I'm not being paid to be a chaperon or a babysitter. My only job is to get you kids down to the state fair. So just don't hassle me and you and me won't have any problems."

A few kids shouted: "All right!" Several other kids applauded. The driver rammed his shift lever into gear and the bus roared as it started forward. As the bus gathered speed, the kids began talking faster and louder among themselves and soon the bus sounded like a school lunchroom inside.

The blonde turned to Denise. "I'm Peggy, what's your name?"

Denise told her.

"Sexy name," the blonde said. "And this handsome boy is Romeo." She stroked the dog's head.

"Nice dog," Denise said. She felt tight and uneasy.

"You don't know how nice," Peggy said, giving Denise a suggestive expression. "I mean, Romeo's a real special boy."

Denise smiled, almost giggled, mostly out of nervousness. She had no idea what Peggy was hinting at, nor did she want to know. She picked up her book from the seat beside her and opened it.

"What's that?" Peggy said.

Denise showed her the cover of the book.

"Please Let Me In," Peggy said, reading the title. "Hmm, sounds pretty interesting. So, you like dirty books. Well, so do I."

"It's not a dirty book," Denise snapped. "It's a romance. There's nothing dirty in it."

Peggy looked stunned for a moment. "A romance, huh? That's one of those books where all the good stuff happens between the lines. It's all there, but you just have to use your imagination a little more to find it."

"I'd like to read it now, if you don't mind," Denise said, and she shoved her nose into her book.

Her eyes traveled along the lines of print, she turned the pages, but nothing her eyes saw registered in her mind. She wasn't reading, just going through the motions of reading. How could she read with Peggy just about sitting in her lap and with that big hound gazing up at her with those moony eyes? She was uncomfortably hot, too. All the windows were open and the wind whirled through the bus, but it was a hot, humid wind that failed to cool her off.

"Christ, it's hot," Peggy said, as if reading Denise's thoughts. "My skin is sticking to the seat. What I wouldn't give for a nice cool stream to go skinny-dipping in right now. Do you like to go skinny- dipping, Denise?"

"No," Denise said, offended that Peggy had suggested such a thing.

"I do," Peggy said. "We've got a nice private stream on our farm. Me and Romeo go up there just about every day during the summer. A lot of the neighbor boys come up there, too. Sometimes it gets pretty wild."

Denise didn't say anything. She didn't know for sure what Peggy meant by wild, but she imagined the big-titted blonde dipping down into the stream, as a dozen red-faced farm boys watched her.

"Hey Denise, give me a few of those candy bars you brought along."

Denise looked up to see her twin brother looking down at her. She was a little shocked to see that Tim had taken off his shirt and shoes. All he wore now was a pair of threadbare jeans that fit him like a tight skin. His sun-bleached yellow hair resembles the tousled mane of a lion. His eyes moved away from her and roved up and down Peggy's obscenely clad body.

Denise shot her hand down into her overnight bag and pulled out three or four candy bars, which she thrust up at Tim. "Here."

The boy reached for them without looking, wrapping his fingers around them as he ogled the blonde. "Thanks," he muttered.

As he stumbled barefoot down the aisle to join his new friends, he glanced over his shoulder a few times - at Peggy.

"Cute," Peggy said, watching him. She turned to Denise. "Is his equipment pretty nice?"

Denise felt herself flush. "I don't know what you're talking about. He's my brother - my twin brother. I don't know what you're talking about."

Peggy grinned. "Lucky you. Your brother, huh?"

Denise sighed with exasperation and buried her face in her book, trying to block out everything around her. She couldn't read, though. She was too riled up. The trip was ruined. Peggy would not leave her alone. The heat was unbearable. She could smell the dog, along with the scent of sweaty teenagers.

She peered over the seat ahead of her. She couldn't see too many of the other kids, but she was certain that she was the only person on the bus besides the driver who remained decently dressed. The boys she could see all had their shirts off, the same as Tim. Most of the girls wore the scantiest shorts and had rolled their T-shirts up under their tits to make their bellies and backs bare. Every girl and boy she could see were barefooted. They were all sweating, and the bus smelled like a high-school locker room.

"He had a nice bulge," Peggy said, as if to herself. "I bet he's really hung. I'd love to see him without his pants on. All girls should be so lucky to have a twin brother like that."

Denise refused to acknowledge that she'd even heard Peggy. Her heart was pounding and she felt as if she would suffocate, trapped between Peggy and the wall of the bus. The worst part of it all was that Peggy seemed to be able to see into the deepest, darkest parts of Denise's mind. The truth was, Denise knew what Peggy was talking about. The truth was, Tim was hung like a horse. Denise spied on him every chance she got, watched him piss in the barn yard, watched him sneak out behind the shed and jack off, followed him and his girlfriends into the woods and watched from secret hiding places as he fucked them.

Tim terrified her. That huge cock he wielded between his legs horrified her. How could any girl endure the torture of being fucked by that big cock? And yet, as much as Denise was terrified she was fascinated, she was excited, she was in love. All the boys in the romance novels she read had Tim's face, Tim's body. She envied every girl Tim had ever fucked.

"Wanna change places?" Peggy said. "So I can sit next to the window for a while?"

Denise agreed, thankful to be out of her corner at last.

Peggy slid Denise's overnight bag out of the way on the floor and pressed her back into the corner, leaving one bare foot on the floor and plopping the other one up on the seat. The wind coming in the window grabbed her hair and pulled it out the window where it flew in the breeze like gold streamers.

Denise moved away until she was sitting in the center of the long rear seat of the bus and could look straight down the aisle. She pushed her overnight bag out of the way and allowed the black Lab to move into the space between her and Peggy. Peggy had her legs spread, and the dog sniffed the crotch of her shorts.

"I can't take much more of this heat," Peggy said. "I'm about ready to strip completely." She reached under her tits and shoved her fingers up under the cups. She pushed up, and the tit-cups slipped off, letting her large tits fall out and jiggle. The string halter hung around her neck like a necklace.

Denise couldn't believe it. She just stared at Peggy's naked tits. The cherries were very large and full of erect bumps. The nipples stood up like fingertips.

"Don't worry," Peggy said, grinning mischievously. "Nobody can see me here behind the seat. If anybody starts coming back here, let me know, huh? Except for maybe your brother. I wouldn't mind giving him an eyeful."

Denise was speechless. She watched with increasing disbelief as Peggy unsnapped and unzipped her shorts and lifted her ass and legs to slide them off. Peggy wasn't even wearing panties. She dropped the shorts on the seat and settled back down with a sigh, spreading her legs so her left foot rested on the floor and her right foot on the bus seat. She had a very hairy blonde pussy that opened slightly as she spread her legs, revealing the wet pink meat between the furry lips of her cunt.

"Oh, that feels good," Peggy mumbled, curling her toes sensuously. Then she reached between her legs and pulled open her cunt, dug her fingers into the spongy cunt flesh and hauled open the hairy pussy flaps to reveal her worm-like clit and her seething fuck-chamber.

"Peggy, oh God!" Denise muttered, so shocked she couldn't think of another word. She watched a few trickles of clear fluid leak from Peggy's fuckhole and dribble onto the black vinyl bus seat.

The black Lab let out a small whimper and lapped up the cunt juice from the seat. Then he sniffed Peggy's open crotch as if it were the best thing he'd ever smelled. Even Denise could smell Peggy's cunt now - that pungent, musky female scent she'd smelled so many times coming from between her own legs, that smell that always managed to permeate her own panties after she'd worn hem only a few hours.

"Make love to me, Romeo," Peggy moaned. "Lick me, lover boy."

Her toes curled as the dog mashed his wet muzzle to her open pussy as if he wanted to fuck her with his snout. As he started to lick, growling quietly, Peggy lifted her bare ass off the seat, thrusting her pussy at him, her eyes rolling drunkenly as she fed him her dripping cunt.

Denise was sure she must be dreaming. At any moment she thought she'd be waking up from this nightmare bus trip and this unbelievable scene before her. Her subconscious mind was surely causing all this. Over the years she'd had dirty fantasies about getting her own pussy licked by an animal, especially by a dog, but she'd buried them deep in her subconscious, ashamed of herself completely. Now these suppressed memories were surfacing.

"Oh, Romeo, you lick so good!" Peggy breathed, rotating her loins as she rubbed her open pussy against the dog's fat, slithering tongue.

Cunt juice dripped from Peggy's crotch, splattering on the black vinyl seat. The smell of pussy was becoming stronger, and Denise began to feel a little dizzy, almost high on the aroma.

I've never smelled anything in a dream before, Denise realized, and she looked down the aisle, beginning to believe this wasn't a dream at all. In the seats closest to the back, girls and boys were necking. French kissing. The boy's had their hands on the girl's cunts, on their tits, and the girls were squirming as if trying to get away. By leaning forward, Denise could see that one girl had her hand inside a boy's pants and was jerking it as the boy kissed her and played with her tits under her T-shirt. Most of the boys seated with boys and the girls seated with girls had stopped gabbing with each other and were watching the boys and girls who were making out, shouting dirty comments and poking fun. The bus driver focused straight ahead on the road, ignoring the kids completely.

Denise almost jumped as someone stroked her hand. It was Peggy's hot toes.

"Play with my foot," Peggy whispered. "Lean over and suck on my toes. It drive me crazy." She gasped as the dog lapped up and down her cunt slit.

Denise just stared in shock, unable to believe any of this. Despite the very real smell of cunt in the air, this had to be a dream. It just had to!

"Come on you little bitch," Peggy hissed. "Suck my toes!" She clawed at Denise's forearm with her toenails.

Denise didn't know why she did it. Maybe because she was scared out of her mind. Maybe because she was so weak with shock that she would have obeyed anybody's orders, performing like a zombie. Whatever it was, she slid as close to Peggy as she could. Peggy raised her leg, pulling her knee toward her voluptuous tits. Denise took hold of Peggy's naked foot and started to lick and suck the blonde's wiggling toes.

"Oh baby, yessss!" Peggy hissed. "Oh God, this feels good. Lick me, eat me, suck me!" Peggy sounded as if she'd lost her mind.

Denise thought she'd pass out. The scent of cunt down here was suffocating. And she could smell the dog, too. The dog kept growling quietly and grunting as he licked. His tongue slurped obscenely. He sounded as if he'd never be able to get enough of the taste of Peggy's seething cunt.

"Oh God, I feel tingles all the way up in my asshole!" Peggy moaned. "My cunt's gonna melt. Oh shit, this is great! Keep sucking my toes, bitch. It makes the feeling that much better"

Denise drooled all over Peggy's foot. Peggy's toes tasted salty. The scent of hot cunt excited Denise. She'd never really smelled a girl's cunt from so close before. In the locker room at school there was always that fain aroma of cunt in the air, the mingles cunt-scents of all the girls, but it was nothing like this steaming scent pouring out of Peggy's excited pussy. The smell almost made Denise want to take a taste of Peggy's cunt.

"I'm getting close," Peggy whispered. "Oh I wish it would last, but I wanna come, too. I need that feeling. Oh God, do I need that feeling!"

Denise slithered her tongue between Peggy's toes, chewed on Peggy's bare foot. She was beginning to enjoy doing this. She didn't want to have to stop. And she knew Peggy was talking about when she said she wanted to get that feeling. She loved that feeling, herself, loved to jack herself off until her toes curled with that raw, melting sensation of orgasm. One of her darkest secrets was that she liked to jack off, that she jacked off six times a day sometimes. She couldn't get through her romance novels without jacking off at least once every chapter, sometimes twice. Always when the handsome, chivalrous boy brushed his lips against the heroine's flushed cheek in one of those novels, Denise would manage to bring off her young cunt in seconds.

A slick pool was forming on the seat under Peggy's wiggling ass, and Peggy rubbed her ass in it, sliding on the seat.

"I'm so hot!" Peggy breathed. "I'm so fucking hot! Oh, I wanna come!"

Denise watched the dog's tongue slither into Peggy's gaping fuck-cavern like a snake sliding into its hole. Peggy's pussy appeared top open up more and more as the dog licked her, and her gaping pussy quivered and contracted, sucking at the dog's tongue from time to time.

I wish that were me, Denise thought. I wish that was me sitting there getting my pussy licked by that big dog. Oh God, that must feel good!

She sucked hard on Peggy's sexy toes, inhaled the scent of Peggy's cunt, watched the dog's tongue fuck in and out of Peggy's seething cunt. And she realized that her own cunt was on fire, was throbbing maddeningly, that her panties had pulled up like a gag between her swollen pussylips and the material was working up and down in her cunt slit and against her clit as she rhythmically squeezed her legs together. Her loins whirled inside with hot tingles and she moaned out loud.

Peggy was humping, driving her crotch against the dog's muzzle, fucking herself on his slithering tongue. Her toes curled in Denise's mouth.

"Suck my toes!" Peggy moaned. "Lick my pussy! Oh God, I'm gonna come!"

She came with a final explosion of hot cunt juice, which ran out of her pussy and dribbled onto the bus seat. Her body jerked rhythmically and she gasped with each spasm. Her toes clutched madly, nearly tearing the inside of Denise's mouth.

Denise bit hard at the spasming girl's hot toes. She clamped her own legs together so hard that her thigh muscles almost cramped. An itchy tension mushroomed inside her own pussy, her toes tingled in her shoes, and she started to writhe with orgasm, nearly blacking out as the hot sensations surged through her cunt.

It feels so good, Denise thought. It just feels so good! This was the first orgasm she'd ever experienced while doing anything with another person, and there was something hotter and more intense about it, something more satisfying than any other orgasm she had ever felt.

She squirmed on the bus seat, working her legs against each other, sucking on Peggy's toes, nearly passing out as the sensations pulsed through her loins and her brain. She slid her hand down, rubbing it in the warm fuck-slime that had run out of Peggy's cunt, and she couldn't help sniffing it. Then she spit Peggy's toes out and tasted Peggy's slick cunt juice.

The pussy juice was tart and sweat. It tasted like the fluid that came from her own cunt. She'd never produced so much of it though. Maybe if she got licked off by a dog, she would. She lowered her lips to the seat and lapped up the cunt juice until the dog started lapping it up, too. Then she sat up, suddenly horrified by what she'd been doing. It was as if she'd temporarily lost her mind.

As she straightened herself, she realized that she'd glimpsed something, something she had to get a look again. She leaned to the side again slightly, peeking under the dog's black-furred abdomen. His prick was standing up out of its sheath - red and wet and quivering. What shocked her was not that the dog had a hard-on, but the size of the Lab's cock. His cock looked to be five inches long, maybe six - the size Tim's had been a few years back, before it had surged in size like a growing cornstalk. She'd never seen a dog with such a thick and long cock.

"Hung like a horse, isn't he?" Peggy said, sitting up straighter. "When a girl's got a hung dog around, she doesn't always have to go chasing after the boys to keep her satisfied." She gave Denise a dirty grin as she played with her own tits.

Denise shook her head, unable to believe Peggy, unable to believe the size of the dog's cock, unable to believe what she, herself, had just done. She looked up front.

A girl was leaning out into the aisle, her eyes rolled back, her hair dangling toward the floor. A boy was clutching her, his hand down her pants and pumping as he apparently fucked his finger inside her cunt. More boys and girls had paired up now and were sharing seats. Half the kids were engaged in necking or kissing or groping, Denise expected at any moment to see a boy rip off a girl's shorts, pull out his stiff cock, and ram it up her cunt right there in front of everybody. Things were getting out of hand, but the bus driver just stared straight ahead, driving them down the highway.

"You look a little lost," Peggy said. "Like this is your first trip to the state fair or something."

"It is," Denise mumbled.

"Lucky girl," Peggy said. "It's always best the first time. Ain't that right, Romeo?" She stroked the Lab's head.

Denise watched in stunned silence as Peggy caught the dog's cock between her bare toes and started to jack him off.