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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

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Survey #222

“hold your breath, my dear, we’re going under.”

Have you ever kicked a vending machine? No. Have you ever stayed online for a long time waiting for someone? Ha ha, yeah... I did that for Mini a lot when I was younger. Would you survive in prison? I can almost guarantee I'd find a way to kill myself, no. What is your favorite condiment to go with french fries? Probably ketchup. What do you have a habit of doing when engaging in a conversation with someone? Obsess over if I'm making eye contact correctly. Like the WHOLE time I will be thinking about it. Have you ever lost a pet in a tragic way? How did you cope? I had a lot of childhood cats run over, and that was always hard to see. As for coping, I just... did. What else do you do. Do you have a favorite classical composer? No. Mini skirts, slutty or stylish? Um, what you wear doesn't determine whether or not you're "slutty." They don't bother me. Do you like a partner who is clean cut or rugged? A mix. Pale or tan, which would you rather be? I like pale skin, I just don't like the texture of mine. The negative of pale skin is the fact you can see flaws more clearly. Is walking cats strange? (like walking dogs) No. What about kids on leashes? What do you think about that? That shit is wild. Teach your children better, or keep them in your sights at all times if they have some kind of condition that makes it challenging to teach them properly. How many piercings have you had, BESIDES ears, no one cares. Two. New tats in your near future? Whenever I myself have the money, my next tattoo appointment will be to enhance my Mark tribute one to better the galaxy texture. I love the guy who's done my tats so far, but there are better out there, and I don't feel he achieved my vision. This tattoo is WILD important to me; it has to be perfect. After that, a "new" tattoo probably won't happen until I have a job or I'm gifted money. How about piercings or re-piercings? "In the near future" is the criteria I'm guessing is still relevant? It depends on how quickly I lose enough weight for my collarbones to be clearly prominent to get dermals. I've been fucking stagnated for a year, though, so I don't know when the hell that's happening... Who would you like to hang out with? There's a lot of old friends and acquaintances that fit this. Next new thing you are wanting to try! Idk. Some sort of job I can actually accomplish. Would you ever visit a psychic medium? Definitely not; I don't believe they're legit. Are some days a waste of makeup? Um so idk if you know, author, but people wear makeup for their own satisfaction. If it makes you feel beautiful, then hell no it's not a waste. Do you watch any beauty gurus on YouTube? Okay I fucking adore Jeffree Star y'all. He's a goddamn Mood and inspirational as ALL hell in terms of his determination, work ethic, and open-mindedness. I watch everything he uploads ever, even though I'm not really interested in makeup. It's cool to watch though; it's an art to me. Do you have a PillowPet? No, but omfg. One of my favorite Christmas memories ever is the night my niece, when she was around two or so, was given one (or something like it?) the night before, we turned the lights out, and lit it up so the colorful stars were all over the room. She was absolutely marveling over it. That was the same night my sister revealed she was pregnant with my nephew, actually. That was a great night. Actually felt like a family. Do you have sleep paralysis? Thank FUCK no. Have you ever wanted an ex back, but found out they were dating someone? I've talked about Jason and Ashley before. God that was a bad. Bad. Fuck-ing. Time. Do you like Placebo? I don't listen to them. Has anyone ever carried you to bed? I mean as a kid, yeah. Idr as a teenager or adult. Would you rather have a wiener dog or an Italian greyhound? The greyhound. Dachshunds are precious, but as of semi-recently, I'm personally against breeding pets with damaging/unhealthy traits, and dachshunds are very susceptible to spine issues. Idk if greyhounds have any issues like that. Do your parents buy you most anything you want? Bitch we poor, no. What is the next craft you are going to make? Probably something for Sara for some special event. I don't think that's much of a spoiler, so I don't mind sharing it. Do you learn choreography easily? I was decent when I was a dance student, but no, I can promise you no. My memory is laughable. If you had to choose, would you rather be taller or shorter? Taller, I guess? Idk. Do you believe that Jesus will come back in your lifetime? No, I don't believe he ever will. What color is your winter coat? ... Shit dude, idr. Idk if I even have one, actually. What’s your favorite candy to receive on Halloween? Gimme all ur Reese's cups. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No. Have you ever had a themed b-day party? I'm sure I did as a kid. Were you afraid of heights as a child? No. I am now tho. Which dollar store is your favorite? Here, Dollar Generals are everywhere and generally the preferred one, I believe. What food gives you diarrhea? Totally serious, most exceptionally "fancy" foods; by that, I assume things with lots of intricate spices and other ingredients. At least severe gas pains are almost guaranteed when I eat out somewhere. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Ha ha man, I remember as an elementary school student though, we had a play where I SO wanted to be Snow White. What is the most fascinating part of nature? Evolution. I don't know how I once didn't believe in it. Would you ever go vegetarian? I am serious about returning to vegetarianism when/if I get to a weight I'm satisfied with (losing weight w/o meat is more difficult than with, particularly for an extremely picky eater). I wish I could be a total vegan, but I know I'm not capable of that. Once you actually learn about slaughterhouses and farm life... no. What berry is your favorite? STRAW!!!!!!!BERRIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What is your dream house? Something in the woods with a nice yard/outdoor decor, flowers, wildlife... What was the reason in you crying last? PTSD. Are there any movies in the theater that you’d like to see? The new IT and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark. What do you think of Coca Cola? It's my third-fave soda. What about polar bears? Gorgeous animals. I will R I O T if they go extinct. My best friend(s) are/is... Sara. When do you want to have your first kid? Never. I am faaar from cut out to be a mother. Which stovetop burner do you use the most? I don't cook, so. The times I've made eggs, uh... I think I use the bottom right? Do you use a dishwasher or wash dishes by hand? Ugh, we don't have one. What year did you graduate high school? 2014. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I should with how paranoid I am. What is your favorite gas station? Sheetz is the way to go down here. What have been some of your best garage sale finds? *shrugs* Idr the last time I went to one. Ever worked two jobs or more at once? Hell no. I wouldn't survive. How often do you check your email? Every day, mainly for school. What would you do if your ex came to you crying? It would depend on who. "The" ex, I don't give a fuck how I feel about him, he's getting a tight-ass hug because seeing him cry is awful, and I will always care about him to a certain degree. Well actually, I'd ask him before hugging; I don't know if he'd be fine with me touching him. Girt would get a big 'ole hug for sure. Juan, Tyler, and Aaron I'd ask if they wanted a hug. I'd definitely ask any of them if they wanted to talk/vent to me about whatever is wrong; I can't stand seeing people cry. What school do you go to, what grade? I'm a super late freshman in college. How do you feel about school? It's been a drastic change in my daily life and thus has caused stress, but nevertheless I'm ecstatic to be back because I'm actually making progress towards going somewhere. Are you still a virgin? So I know it sounds like it makes NO sense w/o details, but seriously, I don't know. We had "cheaty" ways to just barely skirt around it because at the time I was abstinent, but pretty sure at some point it became sex. Do you eat chips or crackers more? Man, I haven't had chips in a loooong time... though I love them, man. We have crackers at the house usually, and I snack on them occasionally. Is your bed next to a wall? Who doesn't have their bed against at least one?? Is your bed next to a window? There's one beside me against the wall. Do you have neat handwriting? I think so. The only thing I don't like is I write SOOOOOOOOOO slow. Would you rather be a singer or a dancer? Dancer. Would you rather be a musician or a painter? Painter. What did your hair look like in high school? Long and normally brown, but sometimes I dyed it black with colored highlights. Favorite flavor of hot chocolate? Normal?? What is your top priority in life? My happiness, probably. Have you ever made a gingerbread house? Yeah. Sucky ones, but they were gingerbread houses, lol. Do you prefer candy corn or conversation hearts? EW both are gross. Skeletons or scarecrows? I'll see you in the Skeleton War, fuckers. Who was the last non-relative woman you spoke to in person? My Writing teacher. What’s a topic you’ve drastically changed your opinion on? I did a TOTAL 180 on LGBT rights, and my former, intense pro-life stance has altered quite a lot to mostly pro-choice. What’s an achievement you hope to see humanity accomplish in your lifetime? Man, a lot... A total ban from plastic and finding an alternative for it would be great, as well as the cure of cancer and H.I.V. Make gay marriage legal worldwide. Make great progress on cleaning the oceans. I could go on and on. Do you know anyone who has a PhD? As far as personally, possibly. Like, obviously my doctors do. How do you feel when you’re the center of attention? *buys that red button that says "no" in various fashions solely for this occasion* Are you and your S/O Facebook official? She doesn't have a FB, but mine does say "in a relationship." Do you know anyone who works as a lawyer? Not that I know well anymore; a former best friend is in the process of becoming one, though. So proud of her. Which would bother you more: being told you’re not likable or being told you’re not sensible? Being told I'm not likable would really hurt. How many bedrooms does your house have? Two. Have you ever had a dream in which you died? Yeah. Does the thought of having wrinkles when you’re older upset you? Not really. Everyone gets them. Do you use Snapchat? No. Do you know anyone who’s struggling with addiction? Yes. What was your first job? And how long did you work there? I was a sales associate at GameStop. I was employed for like two months, but I worked very few days before I crumbled. Where is the last place you were other then where you are right now? School. How do you feel about the last person you kissed? I adore her. Lol, Lawl, Rotfl, Lmao, or Lmfao? (Which you use most) Lmao or lol. Have you/Do you know anyone that grows weed? Not knowingly to me. Do you really care about name brands? Not just for the sake of being a certain name; I do, however, care about the quality of brands, of course, such as taste for foods or being comfortable in clothes. Describe your favorite pair of jeans to me please. I don't have any. When I was actually slim though, I had a pair of maroon skinny jeans with a black dappling texture, and there were holes in them where the fabric was just black, and I loooooved them. Those and my leather boots was A Look. To wash in the shower, do you use a loofa? That's not the technical name for what I use according to Mom when I've called them that, but rather a body sponge or something like that, but it's like the same thing. Have you ever ridden on a horse? Yes, though not at a gallop or anything "real." Just at things like school fairs. Are you polite? I think I'm very polite, honestly. Do you prefer bright or muted colors? Bright, usually. Can you roll your tongue? I used to be able to after practicing all day once with a friend ha ha, but I haven't been able to for a long time. Definitely can't now with snake eyes. Are you a light weight when it comes to alcohol? No, apparently. Which accents can you emulate pretty well? British and country. How loud do you listen to music? Too loud, I know. Are you more awkward talking to people in real life or online? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, real life. I don't think I'm half bad online. Do you bruise easily? So easily that I was tested for anemia or whatever it's called where you bleed easily (the test was negative, thankfully). Despite feeling bruised, though, I usually don't have an actual mark. Have you ever bought pre-ripped jeans? All my jeans were. I hate plain, boring jeans. What are you most likely to spend money on? Tattoos, lol... I genuinely think I'm good with money, I feel because of the financial position I've grown up and lived in, although I have never had a stable source of income, so it's hard to really determine that yet. I'm quite sure I'll be fine, but I really do hope I handle my money well when I do and don't invest all my spendable (as in, not money that I'm saving for emergencies) money into just tats. Have you ever been a complete fangirl/fanboy over anything? Welcome to my life, lol. I'm at an age where it's starting to get embarrassing, but. Idk how to change it. What’s the weirdest way you’ve ever heard somebody die of? *shrug* When was the last time you (dis)liked someone without really knowing them? I dunno. I try to not do that. When was the last time you wore a mask? What did it look like? Hell if I remember. I don't even remember wearing any on Halloween as a child. What comes up on your recommended list on YouTube? Mainly let's plays or music. Have you ever had a controlling boyfriend/girlfriend? Hell no, that wouldn't last long. How many true heart breaks have you had in your lifetime? One. Do you have any gay family members? My mom has a gay cousin. Who was the last person to sleep over at your house? Sara. Would you ever get a boob job? No; I don't care enough about them too. I wish they were smaller. I liked mine when I was a healthy weight, so, let's get back to that size, please. What would you think if you found out your ex was gay? Aaron, I think he actually is. Juan, trust me, he's not. Jason couldn't convince me he was gay even if he tried. I very highly doubt he'd be bi/pan, either. Girt, I would be surprised, but not like, immensely. I don't have a clue about Tyler and if he has any gay tendencies/history. Would you ever take someone back if you found out they cheated on you? NO SIR-REE. Do people ever compliment your eyes? Yeah. Would you be upset if you caught your boyfriend looking at porn? I don't know. I used to feel REALLY strongly about porn just being a big 'ole fucking nope, but whatever man, we're sexual animals. Better you take care of urges yourself rather than, you know, raping someone or something. If I personally caught my s/o doing it, idk how I'd feel, but knowing me and my self-esteem, I'd feel I'd probably jump to the whole (if we were serious) "um hi I'm your fckng gf what am I not enough" thought path. I don't think I'd be livid, though. Ask the old Britt, and we would've broken up there, probably. Who’s the last person that hung up on you? *shrug* Do you have a common first name? Yeah. Have you ever been engaged? No. Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Four, currently. They're gonna be covered one day. Have you ever seriously vandalized someone else’s property? No. Have you ever been punched? No. What do you usually order from Olive Garden? I will, without fail, get the spicy shrimp fritas and be the happiest human being on Earth. How do you feel about bats? I absolutely adore them. Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? Quite the opposite, actually. What brand of hair spray do you use? I don't use it. Do you like it when guys wear hats? I have zero opinion on this. Burger King, McDonald's, or Wendy's? I prefer Wendy's. If you type for awhile, do your fingers start to hurt? No. Are you the type of person who would study for a test for hours? No, I'm not. I generally don't even have to like, intensely study; I tend to learn upon reading things, or in like math, performing the actions just a couple times. "Studying" doesn't tend to work for me; if it gets to that point, it probably won't stick, regardless of how many times I try. Are you a lazy person? I hate admitting just how lazy I am. But I mean again, it also depends on what is at stakes. Does your house have a doorbell? Yes, though I actually don't know if the doorbell works... Favorite album? Ozzy Osbourne's Black Rain. Favorite farm animal? PIGS! Has your Facebook ever been hacked? No. Do you spell gray with an A or an E? I use the American spelling ("gray"). Would you rather get money or gift cards for your birthday? I would be perfectly and entirely happy with purely money for my birthday, because that equals tattoos, lmao. Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No. Have you ever played laser tag? Once on a double-date with Jason and our old roommates/friends. Do you ever share things on Facebook? Almost all I do are share things I support, find funny, find as inspirational or cute, stuff like that. I can confidently say the majority of people I even have as "friends" on there do not care that much about my personal life. Is anyone you’re close to in the hospital right now? I mean, define "close." My grandmother's going through chemo, but we're not like... my definition of particularly "close," though she's close-ish family, so idk. Is your Wifi protected? Of course. What did you have for lunch today? I didn't eat lunch. How often do people write on your Facebook wall? On my birthday, lmao. Does your phone have a cover on it? No. I'd say I want one, but way more than that, I want a new phone. Mine is godawful. What color was your swim suit this year? I mean my most recently-worn is black, but I think it'd probably be too big for me now. I haven't swam in a long time. Do ladders scare you? Yes. Do you have any pictures of you and your friends in your bedroom? No. How do you eat Oreos? I'm one of those people that breaks the cookie to eat the cream first. Who or what sleeps with you? My cat Roman. Do you know anyone with the same name as you? Yes, but spelled differently. Are you pro-life or pro-choice? Honestly, it's become almost embarrassing to say I was ever pro-life. I'm vehemently pro-choice now. What color LED is the display in your car? Okay so Mom's has a rainbow of options, but I think it's currently stuck on... purple? I think? How am I unsure???? I'm in it every day?????????? Who was your first kiss with? Jason, my first "real" boyfriend. What kind of milk do you drink? I'll drink anywhere between skim to whole milk, but I'm not really a fan of skim despite having grown up with it. What aren’t you afraid to stand up for? I'd stand up for gay rights if it killed me. Do you know anybody in the military? Loosely. What was the last hotel you stayed at? I don't have the slightest clue. Do you have any STDs? No. What’s your preferred salad dressing? YO the Olive Garden dressing is b o m b. Do you have a favorite NASCAR driver? No. Who’s your celebrity crush? I'm almost 24 years old ha ha ha hahaha I'm too old for a celebrity crush aha hahaa haa aahha ah hahaaaaaaaaaaaaa- What color is your fridge? Black. Do you know the metric system well enough to live in Canada? No, admittedly. What was the biggest bruise you’ve ever had? Tell me the place (on your body) and the story of it! Idr. If you have Etsy account - show the very last item you added to the favorites. If not - either skip or just visit Etsy and find one thing you like: I think I have one, but I don't use it. I don't feel like looking. What would you do if you knew that you will be single to your very death (even if you’re in a relationship now)? Nothing would change...? My relationship status doesn't alter my goals and such. Are there any exchange students at your school? We have a LOT of foreign students at my school, so I'd assume so. Have you got any half or step siblings? I have three (actually four, but I don't know one tho) half-siblings and technically a step-brother, but I don't see him as a "brother," really. What cars do your siblings drive, if they do drive? My older sister has a red car, and my younger has a... black Kia, I think? It's dark is all I know for sure, and I only know the brand because it's new. I don't live with either or see their cars frequently elsewhere, so idk. What about your parents? Idk what kind my dad drives, but BOY do I know my mom's car, lmao. It's an older white Kia (I think?) with the bumper fuckin zip-tied onto the car bc it was given to us after a dance friend hit a poor deer, lmao. Look, we don't complain, shit was free. Do you like kid’s movies? Yo I do NOT trust you if you claim you like NO "kids' movie." Describe your handbag. I'm actually gonna look it up. (https://sourpussclothingwholesale.files.wordpress.com/2016/08/night-owl-bag.jpg?w=584&h=364) When was the last time you had to take someone home? ME, never. I don't have my license because I'm terrified of driving. Who was it, and where did you take them home from? N/A Have you ever known someone online and then met them in person? Sara Jaaaaaane!!! :'> There are other friends I'd like to meet, too. If so, which website did you meet on? Sara and I met via YouTube when it was actually community-oriented. Have you ever been to the beach? Yeah, multiple times. Have you ever been kicked out of somewhere? Yeah, I guess. She didn't actually like, force me outside, but I had to call my mother to pick me up. Have you ever intentionally trolled? No. Did you get swine flu? No. What is your favorite type of cat? Aesthetically, I find Persians to be way too cute, though I don't support their continued breeding. It's literally abuse to breed animals that deformed. Do you support the LGBTQ community? I'm bisexual, so like- Have you ever eaten a veggie burger? Yeah, the Morningstar brand from Burger King (not the Impossible Burger one). It's genuinely not bad. If you could meet any major political figure, who would it be? I'm not educated enough on like, any, to properly answer this question. If you drink Monster, what is your favorite flavor? N/A Do you own any Webkinz stuffed animals? I was that Bad Bitch(tm) with like,,,, almost all of them back in the day. If so, do you have a Webkinz online account? It exists, but idr the password sobs. If you had/have a Club Penguin account, how old were you when you got it? I would have a character for like two days, not go back on for years, repeat a couple times... but idk how old I was. Do you own any Nintendo video game consoles/handhelds? GameBoys and a DS Lite, yes. What religion were you raised in? Roman Catholicism. Are you still that religion, if you had one? Far from it. What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? Buddhism and Wicca. What ancient culture intrigues you the most, if any? Idk. Were/are you a teacher’s pet? Not like, the kind that sucked up to the teacher for their personal benefit, but if you mean just as in the teacher's favorite, yeah. Do you like pink lemonade? Hell yeah man. What’s your favorite U2 song, if you have one? I don't listen to them. Were your parents born in the United States? Yeah. Do women breastfeeding in public make you feel uncomfortable? I want it to be perfectly and violently clear that I fucking despise you if a child being fed fucking offends you. Why or why not? Because women's bodies aren't sexual fucking objects designed for your viewing pleasure. Write an unpopular/offensive opinion of yours here. I’m interested. Buckle up, lads. Seatbelts fastened? Ass properly in the seat? Airbags in place? There are two genders.

#survey #quiz #questions #random #bored

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betweenpaperpages · 7 years ago

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A Visit From St. Nick

Storybrooke’s Library is hosting a Christmas Eve children's party to celebrate the holidays. With drinks, snacks, decorations and games there is only one element missing: The big man himself. Can Belle find him in time?

Rating: G

Read on AO3

Beta: @ishtarelisheba & @standbyyourmantis

When one worked in a small town diner as long as Ruby Lucas had, you learned everyone in town — and their usual order — fairly quickly. She saw the same people most everyday but it was cozy rather than tedious especially during the Holidays. Granny’s Diner was a town staple and Granny Lucas herself was a force of nature likely to rival any snow storm when it came to holiday spirit.

What one also learned was everyone’s business about, well, everything. How they felt about work, their neighbor, their landlord, their families, and anyone special to them. If there was a “secret” in town you were likely to have heard it or shared it at Granny’s.

Belle French was Ruby’s favorite customer, she ran the library in town while her father, Moe French was the local florist. The best thing about Belle was that she had a smile for everyone in town and never seemed to have a grudge against anyone, or anyone against her; she was the quintessential girl next door.

Then there was Mr. Gold, the town’s landlord. Ruby would have to rank him her third favorite customer, just below Leroy — a man after her own heart with the amount of times he had come in for bacon and eggs hung-over. While Mr. Gold was prickly with everyone and a downright bastard on the best of days he was at least a good tipper and didn’t require much attention when he came in, unless it was rent day.

Ruby had quickly picked up the talent of reading people, sure they talked a lot, but there was more information to gain rather than just what they said. Take Mr. Gold for example, sure for the moment he was staring into his coffee cup looking like he was about to sue it for being too hot but there was another reason his eyes were directed down.

“Here you go Belle!” Ruby chirped happily, spinning around from the pick up window and setting down a stack of pancakes and syrup in front of her. “Hot off the griddle and Gus threw in some chocolate chips.”

Belle giggled softly at her friend’s antics. “Looks great, thanks Ruby.”

“Of course!” She answered, with a quick glance around to check that no one needed anything she leaned herself onto her arms on the counter in front of Belle. “So how is everything coming along for the library’s kids’ Christmas party?”

She nodded around a full mouth full of pancake, chewing it quickly to answer. “Everything looks good so far, all the advertisements are printed and ready to go, the tree is already up so there won’t be too much decorating left to do on the day.”

Her mouth twisted in a sour manner, “The only thing is that I still haven’t found anyone to dress up as Santa for the kids.”

Ruby nodded along, her eyes glancing around the diner once more and spotting where Mr. Gold’s gaze had fallen again. “Leroy wasn’t able too? I mean, we would have to dye his beard white, but it’s a good option.”

“No, he can’t get away from work in order to do it. I’ve asked David Nolan but he and Mary-Margaret were planning to bring in the kids to have a family outing.”

“Did you check in with Anton?”

“I did but he is heading out of town that day so he can visit his brother and uncle, also he thinks it would be too obvious who he is through the costume because of his height. Wouldn’t want the kids to second guess if Santa was real or not, ya know?”

Belle shoved a few more bites into her mouth as she thought over the problem, she was quickly going to run out of any options. The only one that really came to her was for Ruby and herself to be Christmas elves and let the children know they were sent in Santa’s place since he was busy at the North Pole.

“I’ll keep thinking about it, I’m sure there is someone in town we can find.” Ruby pointed out, pushing herself off the counter. “I’m going to check on a few people, I’ll be back.” She snagged up the coffee pot off and sauntered off to check in with diners.

It took a few minutes to do the rounds but Ruby had finally ended up at Mr. Gold’s booth table in the back, she reached over to refill his coffee cup with a nod. “So… Any plans for Christmas Eve Mr. Gold?”

Perhaps nonchalant wasn’t Ruby’s style, but she had to be careful in her approach. It was quite clear to her by now that Mr. Gold had an ever-deepening crush on Belle, his gaze lingered when they were in the dinner at the same time, occasionally he would let out breathy little sighs, and any time they spoke, even a quick hello, seemed to melt his bad attitude.

Mr. Gold raised a quiet eyebrow at the question, “No. None at this time. Bae is at his Mother’s this year.” He admitted, if it was his choice Milah wouldn’t have any visiting rights but he wasn’t going to dwell on that thought right now.

“Aww, that’s a shame. I hear the library is going to have this great party for the kids to go to. Hot cocoa, candy canes, art projects, music, and Belle is even trying to arrange to have Santa visit the kids for storytime.” Ruby explained, counting out details with her left hand. “Well, trying being the key word.”

“Why would that be Miss. Lucas?” His hands came around his fresh cup of coffee to warm his hands on the ceramic.

Ruby’s lips twitched in triumph, all she needed was to spark his interest.

She looked around to check that there weren't any kids that could hear her before leaning in, “She’s been having some troubles finding Santa.” Ruby informed, glancing over her shoulder to where Belle was seated at the bar.

“I know she wouldn’t complain or anything but it's the final detail that would be the cherry on the proverbial Sunday for the party, you know?” After a moment Ruby shrugged her shoulders, “Oh, well, as long as the kids have fun, right Mr. Gold?”

Gold blinked, shaking himself out of his tunnel vision of where Miss. French sat to look at at the waitress. “Of course, she has done a fine job with the children’s program, I’m sure the party will be a success.”

Ruby smirked as he nodded, sending her back off the to front, it seemed final, as if that gesture alone would guarantee the turn out; perhaps it would.

*****

Belle smiled as she put the finishing touches on the library’s decorations, with a bit of time she had managed to decorate the main areas. In the center of the building where the large round rug was set up for kid’s storytime sat a wingback chair next to a five foot Christmas tree created solely out of books — Belle’s solution to the rather tight budget.

Starting at the base she built a circle of larger books (mostly the encyclopedias) and continued to stack layer after layer of books, the book on the second layer bridging the gap of the two it rested on below. Through the layers tree lights had been wound in and out of the books, large glittering ornaments hanging from the cord, red ribbon weaved through the layers, and everything finished off with a frosted glass star

The lobby was decorate in red bows, tied to the corner of book cases, the circulation desk, and the refreshment table that Ruby would be working at. For the kids they would have hot cocoa with whip cream and cinnamon along with the gift of a candy cane, the adults had the options of either egg nog or hot apple cider.

Other tables had been set up as well to contain the various art projects that she had planned out for the kids, hoping that any mess would stay contained to them. There was plenty of options for all of them but Belle was looking forward to story-time the most.

The kids had been encouraged to attend in the PJs as they would be reading together: “Twas the Night before Christmas”, the parents could as well, however Belle didn’t think many would.

For herself and Ruby they had both found matching elf outfits that consisted of a green dress, red skirt trim and collar, a black waist belt, and peppermint swirl buttons on the top. Each dress was also paired with black boots, red and white striped leggings, and a curly hat to complete the look.

They may not have Santa visiting them this year, but Belle was determined that they would have visitors from the North Pole.

*****

Belle smiled, gazing around the space, the decorations were set, the art and crafts out, all was left to do was finish setting the refreshments. She normally wasn’t one to toot her own horn but she was pleased with how everything turned out.

“Merry Christmas Belle!” Ruby called out, popping in from the front door, her arms full of a large box.

“You to Rubes.” She jogged over, the additional jingle bells she added on her dress ringing as she moved. She reached out to grab part of the box to help Ruby take to the circulation desk.

“What is all this?”

“Well, Granny decided that if this was going to be a real party it needed more than just drinks. So she may have sent over a few things.”

“A few things?” Belle deadpanned. “Looks like she sent to whole diner!”

Ruby laughed, nodding before starting to pull out the extras that had been sent over, “Something like that.”

By the time they had unpacked everything they ended up with three dozen gingerbread cookies, twenty-four mini fruit cakes, three types of fudge, another three dozen cookies of peanut butter, oatmeal and chocolate chip, a tray of black forest brownies, and tucked in the bottom a bottle of peppermint schnapps.

Ruby held up the bottle for Belle’s inspection with a grin, “Good old Granny, never letting us down.”

“This is for the kid’s Ruby!”

“Hey! I never said I was going to share with them.” Ruby said, beaming.

Belle couldn’t help but laugh, the playful banter putting her at ease, even without Santa the two of them could handle a group full of over-excited and sugar-filled kids for one evening.

*****

A cheerful ringing of jingle bells rang through the library as Belle trotted up to the reading nook that was marked by the wing-back chair, a large circle rug, and plenty of pillow cushions.

“If everyone wants to gather up and take a seat in the reading circle we have a very special story for everyone tonight,” Belle announced; watching as the kids hastefully abandoned their art projects to find their favorite spot.

Emma Nolan and August Booth rushed to claim a few more treats before being ushered by Ruby to the reading area, the rest of the kids who had settled down all had their eyes trained on the Librarian.

“Does everyone know what night it is tonight?”

“Friday!” Lilly giggled, hugging her dragon stuffed animal that followed her everywhere.

Hansel Tillman murmured under his breath, biting at his lip, pulling at his shirt sleeves. “...It’s December 24th…”

“What was that?”

“He said it's December 24th!” Gretel called out, trying to help her shyer younger brother, even if it sounded a little harsh to the ears.

“That’s right!” Ruby answered, trying to give the younger sibling some encouragement. “It also means that it is Christmas Eve.”

Belle nodded along, “And we all know a very special someone stops by our houses tonight to —”

“Santa Claus!” Cried out one of the kids, sending the rest of them in a giggle fit.

“Yes, but do you know just how hard his job is every year? There is so much to do! Which is why he hired Ruby and I to help him out this year with a few things since he can’t stop to visit.”

Just as Belle was about to sit down to start story-time the front two doors of the library swung open, a gust of wind carrying a dusting of snow and a hearty laugh.

“Ho-ho-ho!”

The kids gasped, twisting in the seats others standing in up in order to get a better look at the front of the Library.

“Santa!” Emma cried out, running over to the man standing just inside the door, slamming into his leg for a hug. “You came!”

Santa chuckled again, adjusting the large black cloth bag that was thrown over his shoulder, patting Emma on her head, “But of course! Now, I have a few things for everyone, do you think you could be my helper tonight?”

Emma nodded enthusiastically as she took his hand, leading him over to the story circle were the rest of the kids greeted him with the same joy and cheer, even shy little Hansel Tillman.

Belle moved over to nudge Ruby in her side, nodding over to Santa in silent questioning. She hadn’t been able to find anyone but if Ruby had she certainly kept it under wraps. Although, all Ruby offered in response was a shrug and a happy grin.

Once the kids settled from their initial excitement, Santa finally had a chance to address the two elfs in the room.

“Why Ruby, Belle, you two have done a wonderful job! Thank you!,” he smiled, turning to the kids with a wink, “You know kids, if it wasn’t for these two doing so much I wouldn’t have been able to slip in, but good thing the team is so quick on their feet!”

“The team?!” August cried out with an audible gasp, “Can we meet them! I want to meet Blitzen!”

“Ho-ho-ho, let them catch their breath August! They have a busy night still to go.”

August turned to nudge Lilly and her dragon in delight, “He knows my name! He knows my name!”

She rolled her eyes at him, “Of course he does, he’s Santa Claus!”

“Santa, why don't you let us help you with that?” Ruby commented, nodding toward the large sack over his shoulder, “You take a seat.”

“Thank you Ruby.”

Belle and Ruby set the bag next to the chair while Santa got himself settled, while he pulled out a list they found a comfortable spot to sit close by but still in front of all the kids to keep an eye on everything.

“Hmm…” Santa grumbled slightly, fingers scratching at his white beard in thought. His deep brown eyes studying the length of parchment before him from wire glasses. “Well, well kids it appears that everyone on my list has been very good this year!”

“Ooh! Hansel and I helped Dad catch an injured swan by feeding it bread crumbs!” Gretel called out, her brother seeming to blush under the attention.

David Nolan chucked from where he and his wife were sitting in the back, both with their respective mugs of cocoa, seeing all the kids together and their antics was worth the kids staying up past their bedtimes. Mary-Margaret sat next to him smiling over where young toddler Neal playing with Alexandra and her mother Ashley Boyd. Pass the ball wasn’t Neal’s best game but the two were trying their best.

“That was a very good thing to do Gretel, I’m sure it was grateful.” Santa nodded his approval.

“Now, I know it's tradition to open gifts in the morning on Christmas day,” Santa started, reaching for his large bag and pulling on drawstrings, “but seeing as I am already here I don’t see the harm in starting early.”

Emma jumped up when Santa called for her, he needed his helper after all. He pulled out a neatly wrapped gift for each child, calling out their names one at a time while Emma ran back and forth to ‘deliver’ each one. Once she was settled with her own the kids were given permission to “have fun”, soon the reading circle becoming a colorful and shiny graveyard of wrapping paper, bows, and ribbon.

Santa chuckled as he watched them all tucking in, taking the chance to turn to his elves while they were playing with their toys and showing them off to parents.

“Of course, it wouldn’t be Christmas without my elves.” Santa noted, turning to Ruby and Belle, each of them receiving their own package. His eyes crinkled in just the slightest bit, “If you’ll have it?”

“Oh! Why thank you.” Belle glanced to Ruby with a brow raised in question before she uncovered her gift. In her hands sat a handsome volume of Maria Edgeworth’s Belinda, she had been meaning to find a unrevised copy for sometime now and it seemed now she didn’t need too.

Ruby giggled excitedly as she tore through her own paper, pulling out a red knitted beanie with a fur pom pom on top along with a matching scarf that was lined with the same fur trimming. She quickly pulled off her elf hat to switch it out for the new one, unable to resist wobbling her head to shake the pom pom.

Once the kids had a chance to play and some extra snacks, the group was finally settled once again in the reading circle. Ruby couldn’t help but notice the stiff limp that seemed to be bothering their jolly visitor’s right leg, leading him over to sit in the wing-back chair while Belle perched herself on the arm, holding up their book for story time.

She opened the front cover of the book to display the ornate illustrations as she began to read out loud.

“‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there…”

*****

By and by Belle was very pleased with how the party turned out. All the kids had been ecstatic over seeing Santa and him hand delivering all of them a gift, only increasing their excitement for the morning to come. Even if that morning would be a bit later than others past considering how many parents carried out children that were falling asleep on their shoulder or hip.

Ruby took a large bite of her Granny’s fruitcake, humming in appreciation of the rich dessert, her drink sitting off to the side while her feet were propped up on another chair.

“Rubes! Where in the world did you find this Santa?” Belle questioned, walking over with her own drink, “He had gifts and everything, there is no way that was in the budget.”

She cleared her throat, setting her plate aside as she dropped her feet. “Well actually it didn’t cost anything.”

“What do you mean? How could it not cost anything, that must have been an actor or something, right?”

“Well actually….” Ruby’s voiced picked up a slight whine.

“Actually what?”

“Actually I have no idea who he was either!”

“Ruby! Are you saying that could have been anyone? That stranger came in her dressed up as Santa!”

Ruby twisted a lock of her hair in her fingers to distract herself, if she didn’t have that she could far too easily spill her thoughts of who it was. If she was correct, she had a feeling they didn’t want it known.

“Well it couldn't have been a complete stranger, he had the perfect gift for every kid in the room. So it has to be someone who lives in town and heard we needed someone.”

The logic behind her words seemed to deflate Belle’s upset, her shoulders dropping as she took a seat next to her friend. “I suppose that is true.”

“Just look at it this way,” She lifted her cup in the air, hearing the echo of the clock above them striking midnight, “it's a Christmas miracle.”

Belle couldn’t help but smile at that, clicking their glasses together in a cheers. “Merry Christmas Ruby.” “Merry Christmas Belle.”

*****

Gold knew that his actions tonight was going to play hell on his knee, but a couple of days of discomfort and pain was a price he was willing to pay. He had the time on his hands with Bae at his Mother’s this year and with the costume certainly no one would have known it was him. It had been something to do other than sit in his house alone on Christmas eve, besides, it made the kids of Storybooke happy.

He adjusted his leg on the ottoman and settled himself more comfortably in his chair, a glass of water and pain pills sat on the table next to him while a glass of scotch was in his hand. The clock sitting on the mantel chimed as the hour turned over reading 12:00 AM.

He raised his glass with a tipping nod in the direction of town. “Merry Christmas Belle.”

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kane-and-griffin · 7 years ago

Text

“I Put a Spell On You“

A Kabby Halloween fic in three parts for the AU The Woman That Fell From the Sky, in honor of @brittanias‘ birthday!

(Yes I know it’s 6 weeks away, but it’s her favorite holiday and I regret nothing)

PART 1: “Cara Mia” (Halloween 2004)

GOMEZ: “How long has it been since we’ve waltzed?” MORTICIA: “Oh, Gomez . . . hours.” --The Addams Family

Holidays for the first few years are muted affairs.

Clarke is four when they move to Massachusetts, and the move is as great a shock to her system as the loss of her father. The entirety of her small young life, undone and turned inside out. Neither of them have the stomach for Thanksgiving or Christmas that year; Jake died in April and eight months is not enough time for them to face the misery of attempting to replicate holiday traditions without him. New Year’s, Easter, Valentine’s Day, their wedding anniversary, Father’s Day, his birthday. The endless, endless repetition of moments for which Jake is supposed to be there, but isn’t.

Then, a year and a half later, the terrible thing happens, the worst day of all their lives, and Marcus arrives at their doorstep with ash in his hair and kisses Abby’s mouth like she thought no one would ever kiss her again, and something, ever so faintly, begins to click into place.

He’s still there a month later, when the leaves begin to turn from green to gold to crimson, and the town begins to don its autumnal finery for the fall festival.

Clarke and Abby did not go to the festival last year. Jake had been the one who carved their jack o’lanterns every year, elaborately detailed masterpieces of witches on broomsticks and black cats arching their backs. He had a box of delicate, fine-bladed woodworking tools he used only for pumpkins, something Abby had long ridiculed him for. She’d brought the box to Massachusetts, only because she could not bear to throw it away, but it had been moved straight to the garage and she’d never looked at it again. She’d put a bowl of candy on the porch for the neighbor children, in the interests of seeming neighborly, but that was as much holiday spirit as she could muster.

Marcus, however, has never lived anywhere that was not New York City, and the fall festival is a thing of wonder to him. So, to appease him – and because once he says the words “free candy” it’s impossible to dissuade Clarke from adding her pleas to his – they walk down after dinner on Halloween, and Abby – against all expectations, and very nearly against her will – finds herself slowly giving in to its charms.

There are orange twinkle lights wound around the columns of the gazebo in the town square and a small hay bale maze for the children. There is a long table of caramel apples and popcorn balls and chocolate truffles dipped in orange fondant with charming toothy grins. There is hot spiced cider in big black iron cauldrons, steaming with dry ice and scented with ginger and cinnamon, ladled out by a line of moms in pumpkin-embroidered aprons. (Marcus and Abby’s steaming paper cups get discreetly spiked with bourbon by Roan, the hardware store owner, who shoves the flask back in his pocket as Officer Pike pretends not to notice.) Clarke is the only child not wearing a costume; tiny witches and vampires and princesses and Frankensteins abound, along with one particularly grotesque blood-spattered zombie, introduced to them as Octavia Blake from down the street.

Everyone in town knows Dr. Griffin’s story by now – knew it within hours after the “SALE PENDING” sticker went up over the “FOR SALE” sign on the old white house on Birch Street. Vincent the realtor had stopped by Indra’s for coffee that morning and told her everything, so by dinnertime everyone knew. They orbited her at a safe distance for the first year or so, treating her rather gingerly, as though she were made of glass. Under other circumstances she would have found this profoundly irritating, but inside that cocoon of grief, the less she had to talk to people, the better.

But now she’s at the fall festival, she’s drinking cider and holding hands with a tall dark-haired man in a leather jacket and she’s letting her tiny blonde daughter race through the hay bale maze at full throttle, excited squeals of glee echoing through the night air, and she’s smiling, and this is the moment the town falls in love with Marcus Kane for the very first time.

Because he made the doctor smile.

He comes back for the fall festival the next year, and the year after that. Abby still can’t bring herself to open the box in the garage, and says a gentle but firm no to Clarke’s pleas for elaborate decorations. They put out a bowl of candy on the porch, as all the neighbors do, and they stroll down to the fall festival and drink their cider. Abby lets Clarke wear a costume (a cat the first year, Belle the second), but declines to wear one herself.

By their fourth year in Massachusetts, Clarke is eight, and Abby’s lackluster commitment to Halloween becomes a bone of contention before school has even started. Marcus let her watch The Addams Family with him one night over the summer when Abby had an emergency late-night surgery and he was on parenting detail alone. Clarke loves anything Marcus loves, so she is prepared for his favorite movie to become her favorite movie before he even turns the television on, and she falls head-over-heels for the glaring, morbid Wednesday Addams. Maintaining basic table manners, after this, becomes a trial (“Pass the parmesan cheese.” “What do we say, Clarke?” “MORE.”) which Marcus’ badly-concealed chuckles do not help. But she sets her heart on dressing up as Wednesday Addams in July, and by the time September turns the corner into October, she has worn her mother down.

Abby does not sew. Or, more accurately, she does not sew fabric. (Her surgical stitches are a thing of beauty, but those skills do not translate to any domestic project more elaborate than repairing a loose button.) But her neighbor Callie does. Callie was Abby’s first real friend in town, inviting her to book club and backyard barbecues and brunch potlucks until she slowly began to get her feet under her again, and begin to feel marginally less alone. Callie is the neighborhood’s resident domestic goddess; her flower garden is always perfect, her table settings colorful and elegant, her sugar-dusted loaves of holiday gingerbread appearing like magic on doorsteps up and down the street every Christmas morning. And she can sew, because of course she can, so once she overhears Clarke at the supermarket staring covetously at the racks of polyester costumes and lamenting the lack of a Wednesday, she steps in immediately.

“Oh, I love The Addams Family,” she tells Clarke, smiling. “I’d be happy to make you a Wednesday costume. Easy as pie. And your mom should be Morticia, don’t you think?”

And once the words are said, of course, there is absolutely no peace in the Griffin household until Abby finally, finally, finally heaves a weary sigh, walks across the street, knocks on Callie’s door, hands her a bottle of merlot, and says only, “I give in.”

Callie goes to work immediately, laughing Abby’s checkbook out of her hands (“don’t be an idiot, this is a gift”) and taking both mother and daughter’s measurements, occasionally leaning down to whisper conspiratorially in Clarke’s ear and making the girl giggle so hard her blonde curls bounce against her shoulders. Two weeks later, two long flat boxes (wrapped in black paper with black silk ribbon, with the beheaded stem of a rose tucked in each, which makes Clarke shriek with glee) appear on the front step. In Clarke’s, a crisp black dress with a starched white collar, black tights, little black boots, and even a black wig already combed sleek and braided into perfect tight pigtails; in Abby’s, a long black wig and a dress that makes her eyes widen when she puts it on its hanger and realizes how low the neckline plunges. (“She’s bisexual,” points out an amused Marcus when she calls him that night, his voice sounding bitterly disappointed that he’ll be working that weekend and won’t get to see it. “It’s a gift for you and for her.” Marcus has always liked Callie.)

Clarke loves her costume so much she has to be forcibly restrained from wearing it to school every single day for the whole last week of October, and something of her giddy joy begins to chip away, bit by bit, at Abby’s reserve. She remembers this herself, after all, she’s not so old that she’s forgotten the year she dressed as Princess Leia and grew out her hair all year so it would be long enough for her mother to braid into side buns, or the year she was six and it rained so hard she had to wear galoshes under her Cinderella dress instead of glass slippers and cried about it all the way to the first house on the block but stopped as soon as she was handed a Kit-Kat.

Jake has been gone for four years.

The box has been in the garage long enough.

On Friday, when the school bus drops Clarke off on the corner, she is momentarily disoriented, and for a second, she is unsure whether she has arrived at the wrong house. Because it looks like Halloween, for real, it’s the Halloween house of her eight-year-old dreams, with pumpkins and hay and a wreath of dried leaves on the door. And when she opens the door, she gasps so loudly Abby can hear her in the kitchen and comes outside, wiping her hands on her apron. (Mom is wearing an apron?) There are shiny glass pumpkins and pretty black candlesticks and pretend spiderwebs on the dining room chandelier.

“You were too little to remember,” Abby says, “but me and your dad, we used to love Halloween. We dressed up and had parties in the apartment every year.”

Clarke looks around, eyes even wider, taking it all in.

“Did all of this belong to Dad?” Abby nods. “Did you not want to look at it before because you were too sad?”

Abby is startled, as always, by the depth of this small child’s perceptiveness; sometimes it’s like talking to a tiny grownup. She nods, not quite trusting her voice yet, but Clarke doesn’t press her any further. “I’m glad you’re not so sad anymore,” is all she says, and trots into the kitchen where her eight-year-old senses have unerringly detected the scent of cookies.

The next morning, after pumpkin pancakes (picked up from Indra’s diner, of course; Abby’s baking skills were maxed out yesterday in baking ghost-shaped cookies and letting Clarke decorate them), Abby takes her daughter by the hand and leads her out to the backyard, where she has laid old newspaper all over the surface of the old rickety picnic table, and two absolutely perfect pumpkins – round, sleek, glossy, their sunset-orange skins free of every blemish – sit next to a cardboard box duct-taped shut which Clarke has never seen before.

“Pick one,” says Abby, and Clarke can’t do anything but fling her arms around her mother’s waist.

Sunday dawns crisp and clear, perfect Halloween weather. Clarke is incandescent with eight-year-old glee, and even Abby is finding herself, surprisingly, getting into the spirit of it. They eat dinner early, around four-thirty, and Callie comes over to help them dress. The knock at the door, around five-fifteen, just as Abby is finishing her makeup, startles her. It’s far too early to be children; the fall festival kicks off around six, with the trick-or-treaters beginning their rounds shortly thereafter, once their parents have each had time for a cup or two of Roan’s “special” cider. Abby leaves Clarke sitting on the side of her bed, Callie winding her blonde ringlets into neat little pincurls so the wig will lay flat, and descends the staircase reluctantly, already feeling a bit ridiculous. If it’s the FedEx guy, and she’s in a skintight black dress cut so low she can’t even wear a bra . . .

The door swings open while she’s halfway down the stairs, startling the life out of her, and she freezes in place.

It’s definitely not the FedEx guy.

“Cara mia,” says Marcus, who is standing at her door in a flawless Gomez Addams costume – pinstriped suit, slicked-back hair, his face clean-shaven save for a perfect pencil mustache – and Abby feels her heart crack open inside her chest.

She stands there, a little stupidly, not entirely convinced she isn’t simply imagining this, until he closed the door behind him and she finally collects herself enough to descend to the bottom of the stairs and meet him in the foyer.

“I would very much like to kiss you,” he says, fiery warmth in his gaze as his eyes travel up and down her body in the curve-hugging black dress, “but it looks like you just finished your makeup and I don’t want to ruin it. So just know I’m saving one extra for later.” But he does put his arms around her, pulling her close, pressing his mouth against the creamy bare skin of her shoulder, and she has to swallow hard over and over again to keep from crying off the perfect wings of black eyeliner that took her three tries to get right.

“How are you here?” she finally manages to whisper, but the mystery is solved before she can even finish her sentence.

“Clarke,” she hears Callie’s gleeful, mischievous voice from above her, “I believe your Halloween present is here. Run downstairs so I can come take some pictures.”

“Pictures of what?” Clarke demands, little feet scampering out of her room towards the staircase, where she too stops short at the sight of him.

But Clarke recovers faster than her mother did, launching herself down the steps with lightning speed to fling her arms around him and let herself be lifted up and pulled close to his chest in a massive hug. “You look just like him!” she squeals. “You even have the mustache.”

Marcus sets her back down on her feet and examines her costume. “Perfect,” he pronounces emphatically. “She did great.”

“I told you I would,” laughs Callie, descending the stairs, camera in hand.

Abby stares from one to the other. “Did you two cook this up together?”

Marcus and Callie grin at each other conspiratorially, like mischievous children. “Maybe,” he says, refusing to elaborate further, then bows deeply at Abby and holds out his hand to her. “Cara mia,” he says again, his low voice making her shiver even with Clarke and Callie standing right there.

“You’re staying the night, right?” she murmurs into his ear as they pose for photo after photo, so quietly that Clarke doesn’t hear her.

He chuckles, warm and low. “That depends. You don’t have to give the dress back, do you?”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m definitely staying the night.”

“I can’t promise you I’ll want to wear the wig any longer than I have to.”

“I’m willing to compromise on the wig,” he says, winking at her, and then pulls back and pivots smoothly on his heel to dip her dramatically in his arms, making Clarke giggle, and suddenly even the delicious thought of Marcus unzipping her out of the tight black dress is pushed out of her mind by the realization of what this is and what she’s doing.

They have matching Halloween costumes, so they can go trick-or-treating together.

Callie is taking family photos of them.

These are family photos.

They are a family.

She feels that old, familiar pang in her chest, thinking of Jake, but it doesn’t push the smile away or dull her happiness. Not like it used to.

Jake always meant that box to be opened. He always meant those orange paper Halloween lanterns to hang over the dining room table. He always wanted this for Clarke. He would want this for her now.

Perhaps it is possible, after all, to get back the thing she’d lost. Something different, but no less real.

Because Marcus is family now. She knows this, down to her bones. Yes, he came to see her, and yes, she can tell from the way his eyes never leave her that the allure of Abby dressed as one of his favorite movie characters was a powerful draw.

But he did this for Clarke.

She knows this even before she makes him say it to her, out loud, later that night, as they stand in the white glow of moonlight streaming in through her bedroom window, as he steps in close to her and kisses the back of her neck to unzip the black dress. She knows it as he leans over to steal a bite from Clarke’s candy apple, knows it every time he reaches out instinctively for her tiny hand as they cross the street to get to the next house, knows it as he lifts her into his arms to let her sleepy head droop onto his pinstriped shoulder as they make their way back home.

Every time he gets in his car and drives out of Manhattan and through the long stretches of forest-lined highway to pull up in front of her front door, it is not only Abby he’s coming home to.

“I just like to see her happy,” he says helplessly, when she asks him, and she does kiss him then, turning around in his arms, unzipped dress sliding off her shoulders, black wig and red lipstick gone, face pink and clean. Just Abby and Marcus, alone in the moonlight, with a tiny blonde creature snoring two rooms away, sleeping the sleep of the candy-intoxicated, hair a wild golden cloud from Callie’s pincurls. “I just wanted to see the look on her face.”

“I don’t know how to tell you,” she starts to say, but can’t finish the sentence. She doesn’t have the words for him, for what it means to her. He bought a suit for this, shaved off his beard for this, cut his hair for this, and drove four hours from Manhattan with a jack o’lantern in his back seat, just to make Clarke smile on Halloween.

He tilts her chin up to look into her eyes, and she sees that his are shining with tears. “I like to see you happy too,” he says softly, and then bends his head to kiss her, and no one says anything for a long time after that.

He lets her sleep in the next morning, since it’s her day off, and takes Clarke to school himself. She wakes around nine-thirty to the smell of nutmeg and cinnamon, and comes downstairs in her pajamas to see a pan of pumpkin-cinnamon bread pudding on the counter. The kitchen is empty, but she knows he must be home; there’s a steaming mug of coffee on the marble island, with more in the pot for her, and his keys and wallet are sitting next to them, along with a little rectangle of yellow paper, creased like he’d folded it up and put it in his pocket. But it’s unfolded now, and she can see the logo of Saint Henry’s Church at the top of it, which is unexpected enough that it prompts her to pick it up and read it.

It’s a receipt for a five-dollar donation.

She stares at it for a long time, bleary with sleep, puzzling it out, before she hears the back door close and sees him come up the steps, holding the glass votives he took out of the jack o’lanterns before putting them into the compost bin.

“Dia de los Muertos,” he says softly, as he enters the kitchen. “Tomorrow is All Souls’ Day. Clarke and I stopped by the church to light a candle.”

“For Jake,” she whispers, and he nods.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he confesses, coming closer and putting his arms around her. “Any of this. But I always want her to feel like there’s room for both of us – for him and for me – to live side-by-side.” He kisses the top of her head. “Is that okay?” he murmurs into her hair, sudden worry in his voice. “Should I have asked?”

She shakes her head, face still buried in his chest, the cotton of his sweater warm and soft beneath her cheek.

“No,” she whispers. “It’s perfect. You did everything right.”

#kabby #marcus kane #abby griffin #kabby fic #kabby fan fiction #the 100 fic #au: the woman that fell from the sky #brittanias #happy birthday b #this is part 1 of 3

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