#flashbacks of when I would stand in front of our stash of cleaning supplies and wonder if any of these would actually kill me if I drank

[yoojinluv]

[this-lioness]

I think I’ve unintentionally gone and worried Marc that I’m angry with him.

He’s already apologized twice for his “stuff”, but I married a man who loves stuff, and he married a woman who hates it, and I’m OK with that. Which isn’t to say I don’t at times hate the stuff and wish it was all gone, but I’m certainly not angry at him about it.

I will admit that it does help when he occasionally looks at all and is like, “Wow, I really need less of this, don’t I?”  Those are exciting moments for me, to be sure.

I have quite a few things to talk about but I’ll save that for later.  I pored through the art supplies and culled another big pile, although there are yet more piles in the upstairs hall that will need to get stashed somewhere in the wings of the attic. It’ll all get sorted eventually, one day at a time.  Now that the laser cutter is in place I can actually start putting that nonsense away myself.

We’ve worked it out that we’ll divide the closet in the geek room into thirds, with me using the top and bottom thirds for storage (we can curtain it off so it’s less of an eyesore) and the middle third being set up to display his toys or other collectibles. The long-term goal, of course, is for the art supplies to slowly get winnowed down as I finish projects and sell them.

Ahhhhh how I make myself laugh.

We had a fun day out yesterday at RetroCon, although these are also the days that remind me I am slowly and gradually (maybe not so gradually...) losing patience for a certain type.

Look... we are nerds.  All our friends are nerds.  I love that about us.  But there is a type of nerd that my tolerance gauge has hit E on.

If you cannot get a haircut (or at least run a comb through your hair), shower regularly (WITH SOAP), and keep your nails trim and clean, please just... keep a distance from me.

One such dude was camped out next to us at the (standing room only) concert after the convention, wherein they tossed some Pokeball balloons into the crowd to bat around, and I had to keep dodging this guy’s arms and elbows as he wildly tried to swat the Pokeball.

YOU’RE A GROWN MAN.

Also, if you are six-foot-something, and you and your friends have just come from the Exceedingly Tall and Broad People’s Symposium, maybe don’t immediately park yourselves like a wall in front of people who are a full head shorter than you.  I don’t feel like I own a particular place in the crowd, but the constant, selfish jockeying for a better position, including people arriving late and sneakily trying to infiltrate into spaces that they have no right occupying, put me a little on edge.

Never mind all that, we had a great time.  The costumes these people wear are so, so amazing.  Sang our hearts out, all that.

I was a huge fan of Transformers toys and cartoons in the 80s, losing interest some time around when the post-movie series eventually ran out of episodes.  I had a resurgence in the late 90s / early 2000s, when I found a Transformers-themed MUSH and made a lot of friends who enjoyed roleplaying.

I had two OCs on the MUSH -- an Autobot named Flashback and a Junkion named Muse.  I likely would have had a ton more, but it was exceptionally difficult to get applications approved.

(Out of curiosity I checked to see if the MUSH was still alive, but it looks like it closed its doors in the early part of this year after a long period of inactivity).  Last time I logged on as a guest at TLK MUCK there were zero connections.

I was just talking on Facebook about the MUCK I started to build and wiz based on Disney’s Gargoyles cartoon.  I need to sit down and roughly sketch out the OC I’d created for it, as well as Flashback.  Freshen up their designs, just for fun.

Speaking of art, while at RetroCon Marc and I stumbled upon the booth of an artist named Mark Watts.  He was the one who did all the original box art for the Transformers toy line!  We spent a good twenty minutes chatting with him, and ended up buying this really neat art frame that transforms (really!) into a table.  It came with three prints of his original work, plus he threw in one of the Transformers prints as well. It turns out his wife is a writer, and possibly interested in publishing her work, so at his request I dropped him a line so I can chat with her about those things.  Just a super nice guy, and he only lives about 20-30 minutes from us to boot. Who knew? This morning we had bagels and coffee, and I sprayed down the thistle with vinegar again.  I need to get out to Agway and see if they have a higher concentration, maybe that will do the trick.  Tonight, Quorn roast and mashed potatoes, and hopefully the temperature will come down again to make a nice cup of coffee seem like not a terrible idea.

[hulklinging]

Also prompts: RUNAWAYS DOMESTIC BONDING

It’s been six years, Gert realizes, as soon as she steps through the door. Six years since she’s lived somewhere normal. Dilapidated hotels, underground layers. The afterlife. And now, she’s standing in the doorway of a very normal apartment and she can’t bring herself to step inside.

She was worried, when she came home, that there would be a disconnect. That everything would have changed. And it did. In big ways, and also in little ways she’s still discovering. Her family is scattered, her boyfriend is traumatized, her dinosaur is missing. Sometimes she wakes up with a gasp, a phantom dagger sending waves of pain through her chest.

Everything is different. Except this.

Chase sees her hesitating, and without missing a beat he is bending over to pick her up, bridal-style because he’s a fucking dork, and they’re both laughing as he carries her over the doorjam. She should trade him for that, as sappy a move as it was, but she settles for a roll of her eyes and a kiss to his cheek when he finally puts her down.

“Welcome home,” Chase says, and if his voice catches, she won’t say anything about that either.

“Let’s unpack tomorrow,” she offers instead, and pulls him in for a proper kiss.

They settle in. Gert gets a job at a bookstore, because they’ve been able to track down some hidden stashes of her parents’ money, but it won’t last forever. And because she wants something to do with her days. It was also one of the only jobs she could think of where no one would notice her few-year gap in common knowledge, where she could start to fill that hole in, and where she figured they wouldn’t actually check to see if she had graduated from the high school on her resume.

Chase, to her shock, starts looking into what he would need to go back to school.

“What kind of school, babe?”

He’s silent for a moment, long enough that she’s worried he’s gone and slipped into another one of his flashbacks.

“I wanna be a social worker,” he says, finally, and she thinks her chest might burst with pride.

When did you go and grow up, she wants to ask, but she thinks she knows the answer to that, and she doesn’t want to bring that look into his eyes, the way he stares at her when he thinks she’s not looking, like if he blinks she’ll disappear again.

So they fall into a routine, her going to work, him prepping for the tests he’ll need to take to get into school, and it feels… Normal. It feels normal, and that feels like a victory in and of itself.

See, Mom? Sometimes saving the world is as simple as just living, she wants to say. See Dad? Sometimes, things can turn out okay.

She wonders if thoughts like that make her an optimist now. She doesn’t really mind.

It’s four months into apartment living when there’s the sound of their buzzer going off. Gert, caught halfway through dying her hair (she wants to go purple again, for old time’s sake. Secretly, she’s hoping it makes the girl in the mirror more recognizable), calls out to Chase to get the door before she remembers that he’s out late today, talking with the advisor of the school he’s going to be attending in the fall. So he couldn’t have ordered food, and that’s really the only time someone comes a-calling.

Suddenly cautious, she walks over to the speaker, just as it buzzes again. She presses the button and tries to make her voice sound firm.

“Who is it?”

“Hello?” Says a voice that is older than it was when she last heard it, but still so familiar. “Sorry, is Chase there?”

They hadn’t really told anyone, when Gert had come back. They couldn’t find some of them, and the ones they found they couldn’t get a hold of. At the time, they had felt a little bad. It’s only now, with Molly standing at their building’s door, that Gert realizes how cruel that was.

“Molly,” she says, and there’s the sound of a gasp, just loud enough for Gert to catch. Gert can’t do this through their shitty speaker, she just can’t. She presses the button for the door to open, and then stands by their own front door, now hyper aware of all the things that have changed, all the things that have stayed the same.

She hears running footsteps outside her door, and throws it open before Molly even has a chance to knock. Gert’s smile feels shy and strange, but Molly doesn’t slow, doesn’t seem to notice, just wraps Gert up in an almost suffocating hug and starts to cry.

She doesn’t question it. Gert dreads her asking, doesn’t want to talk about waking up in darkness, lungs straining, lost and half-mad. She doesn’t want to talk about it, and Molly doesn’t ask. She’s older, almost an adult, and Gert doesn’t know if it’s her holding onto a childlike belief in miracles, or her experiences since that have taught her there are some subjects best left untouched. Instead, she just holds her, long enough for Gert to realize that Molly now towers over her. She accepts it as a fact by the time Molly reluctantly pulls away, feels her world readjust as she looks up at the girl instead of down. It’s a feeling she’s grown used to since coming back, after all.

“Oh!” Molly gestures at the door, where another girl lingers. She’s smaller than Molly, with big solemn eyes and a rose blooming in her hair. “This is Klara. We found her a hundred years ago.”

Chase had briefly mentioned that adventure, although no details. Gert hadn’t pried. She extends a hand to Klara, who shakes it with a cautious smile.

“Chase is at school,” she explains, like this is all commonplace, like they’re just two friends stopping by. “He should be back soon.”

Molly is wearing a backpack, Gert notices. So is Klara.

“We were kinda… Looking for somewhere to stay?” Molly admits. The uncertainty is what kills Gert, that they’ve drifted so far apart that Molly’s not sure she’s allowed to ask for sanctuary.

“We’ve got space,” Gert says, which is true, and even if it wasn’t, they would make it. Because that’s what family does.

The relief on Molly’s face makes Gert’s heart ache. She texts Chase and asks him to grab some food on the way home. Enough for four, if he doesn’t mind. They can go furniture shopping tomorrow.

What changes, now that Molly and Klara have moved in; plants on every windowsill, two people prepping for school instead of one, the grocery list on the fridge gaining vegetarian options, the ‘to watch’ list by the tv gaining all the cool animated movies she’s missed.

What doesn’t change; how good it feels to come home after a long day.

Klara finds a florist that’s hiring, and her smile gets wider and her shoulders slowly relax. Molly flies through her GED with almost childlike glee, already trying to decide between a thousand different career paths she would be equally excited to pursue. Gert watches her and thinks that she really was the strongest of them all, to go through all that they did and still come out so bright.

When the buzzer goes off one Sunday morning, Gert clicks the button without even checking to see who it is. Molly likes to go on runs in the mornings, and she’s notorious for forgetting her keys when she does.

When there’s a knock on the door though, Molly sticks her head out of her and Klara’s room to ask who that could be, and Gert and her share a look of concern. Chase is still in bed. Klara is already at work. After a nod of understanding, Molly moves towards the door, eyes already glowing.

“Sorry for the intrusion,” says the voice of another ghost. “We followed your signature here. We didn’t know where else to turn.”

The story comes out in pieces over the next few hours, a jail break and a daring escape that ended with a crash, all blurring together in a mix of panic and blood. Karolina Dean is bleeding out on their kitchen table, a battered Xavin and a blonde Gert doesn’t know hovering over her, doing their best to patch up her various cuts and burns while Molly helps and Chase goes for supplies and Gert pulls up various first aid sites on her laptop. It’s only after every wound has been dressed does anyone look at her. Karolina is unconscious still, but her pulse is strong and her lungs are clear, so Xavin has time to stare at her and shake their head, wonder chasing away some of the fear on their face.

“It seems to be a day for the impossible,” they murmur, and then Molly is fussing over their own injuries, and that is that. Gert has a feeling Karolina will be the one to demand the whole story, and she’ll have to prepare herself for that shortly, but for now she introduces herself to the stranger (Julie Power, and she apologizes for fighting that one time. Gert hardly remembers it at all), and starts thinking about where they can put three space fugitives.

Karolina wakes up, sees Xavin and Gert standing over her, and bursts into tears. It takes the two of them and Julie almost half an hour to convince her that no, she’s not dead, they all made it out and Gert is back too. She doesn’t want to let go of either of her partners’ hands, but she still pulls Gert close, kisses her cheek with something a little like a prayer.

It’s a month before Karolina can properly stand, so mostly she floats, trailing colours as she does. It’s the tail end of summer, and something about the season has everyone thinking about new beginnings. Gert comes home one day to the bathroom sink stained pink and Molly proudly sporting a hot pink pixie cut. Klara opted for a crisp bob, and Julie, whistling as she cleans up the mess she’s made, looks a little more sure of her place here.

Gert is thinking about growing her own hair out, only that makes her think of the first time they had to bury her. She asks Julie to help her cut it instead.

“The apartment next to ours is for sale,” Chase mentions casually, some time in September.

They throw caution to the wind and buy it, movie star money and time traveller money going towards doubling the space they have for their family, new-and-old-and-new again. Karolina comments on how her parents probably would have hated it, that this is what their money is being spent on, and it makes the four Pride children all smile in satisfaction.

Building a new world, in their own way.

The wall between the two apartments lasts until late September. Molly ‘accidentally’ punches a hole from one living room until the other, and at that point it’s just easier to tear it down, their living room doubling in size, the support beams reinforced and decorated with climbing vines. Molly and Klara still share a room, even though there’s enough bedrooms for each of them to have their own, but Klara does take over one of the balconies, her and Chase working to replace the railing with walls, adding glass over top, until they’ve got their very own little solar, overflowing with every kind of plant Klara can fit, plus a few more than Gert would bet don’t exist anywhere else. Karolina spends almost as much time in there as Klara does, starts using the veggies to cook elaborate dinners for them all. She can’t work yet, can barely walk, which is obviously getting to her, but being able to do something for the whole household helps.

They all become rather fond of vegan food, although meat and dairy still make appearances at breakfast and dinner for most of them.

Julie buys Xavin a camera after they mention an interest in photography, and Xavin pays her back with new headshots. She goes to every audition with the good luck charm of a kiss from each partner on her cheeks, and sometimes she even gets a part. Xavin starts taking photos of everything, shyly admits to Gert that Skrull aren’t encouraged to find the beauty in things, that it feels like their own little bit of rebellion to do so.

Gert can understand that, and says so.

Xavin also takes charge of Karolina’s recovery, firm and cautious, knowing that if Karolina had her way she’d have already gone and reinjured herself. But there’s a Saturday evening in early November that they all have off, and Xavin invites them all on a hike. They head up into the hills, and for a moment Gert is worried she’ll have to walk past her own grave, and that’s not a journey she’s ready to take yet. But Xavin leads them up another way, and when they reach the top and look over the city of Los Angeles, Karolina is still standing, pride and triumph in every line of her body.

Xavin drops to one knee.

Julie gasps, and Karolina turns, and then her hands are over her mouth, eyes wide. There are two rings in Xavin’s hand, not any metal Gert recognizes, but black like space and sparkling like stars.

“Xavin,” Karolina says, trying to tease with a voice that’s shaking. “We’re already married, darling.”

“This is a new life,” Xavin says, and Molly has Xavin’s camera, capturing it all. “This is a new life, and I want to share it with you. With both of you, my loves, my stars on dark nights.” They pause, and Julie and Karolina both reach out to hold one of Xavin’s hands, and entwine their fingers together between them as well. “We are all part of each other and I want to honour that in any way… In every way I can.”

“You’re supposed to say ‘will you marry me,’” Julie whispers, her tears in no way dimming her smile. “So we can say yes.”

“Right.” Xavin’s dark cheeks don’t quite hide her blush. “Julie Power, Karolina Dean, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” they breathe as one, and then there’s lots of kissing and more crying and shaking hands sliding rings onto waiting fingers.

Somewhere in all this, Chase’s hand finds Gert’s, and Gert thinks about how a ring would look on her own finger. She thinks she might like that a lot.

Gert hasn’t celebrated Hanukkah since her parents died, but Chase surprises her one night with a menorah.

“Just in case,” he says.

Klara had already presented them with a tree, grown perfectly to fit the height of their apartment and strong enough for the mountain of ornaments and lights Molly and Karolina have piled onto it. Gert’s not sure where she stands with religion, but when the first day of Hanukkah comes around she lights a candle anyway. Maybe not everything their parents taught them was bad, she thinks, or has to be treated with suspicion. Sometimes tradition can be grounding.

Klara joins her the next night.

“My husband didn’t let us have one,” she explains, her eyes on the candle. “I didn’t let myself miss it for a long time.”

Gert lets Klara light the candle, and as the flame catches in her eyes, making them glow, she makes a note to look up the closest synagogue.

On Christmas morning, Gert looks around at everyone, awash in the lights from the tree and Karolina’s own rainbow, and has to rub at her eyes for a moment. She must have something in them, that’s all.

Never, not once, did she ever think something like this would be possible. Not growing up, definitely not while on the run. It overwhelms her, and she hides her face in Chase’s shoulder until she gets a hold of herself.

Some time between Christmas and New Year’s her constant refrain of we can make it we can make it we can’ changes to ‘we made it we made it we did it we’re here.’ Because they did. Every newspaper and tv anchor reported on how likely they were to follow their parents, to go bad. And they actively fought against that for a while, saved the world or some lives or some Starbucks along the way. But this is something even more impressive than that, in Gert’s opinion - living normal lives, being happy. Rate for heroes, even more rare for villains and their progeny.

It’s spring, and Nico Minoru finds her at work. She doesn’t look surprised to see her, which means she’s been told Gert is back. She offers her a razor of a smile, dangerous and tentative, and Gert gives her one in return.

“I hope it’s okay I’m here,” she says, voice low, like she’s worried someone will overhear. Like she’s gotten too used to hiding. “A friend of a friend told me you guys were around, and I… I thought I’d say hello.”

She’s got new scars, her style more refined but still enough to make her stand out most places. A bookstore in LA isn’t one of those places, though. Gert interprets her 'friend of a friend’ comment as the superhero gossip pool, because even though Karolina and Julie rarely go out and save the day now, they stay in contact with those who do.

“None of us are doing any heroing anymore,” she warns Nico, because they’ve all lost too many homes and houses to risk what they have now.

“That’s okay,” Nico says. Then, after a beat, in a much quieter voice, “That’s better, honestly.”

They don’t hug yet, but Nico leans over and just rests her forehead on Gert’s shoulder, and Gert rubs at her back. Neither of them say anything, but Nico’s still there when Gert’s shift is over, and they ride the bus home together.

Karolina almost knocks Nico over with the force of her hug.

“We were hoping you’d come,” she says. “We saved a room for you. I’ll even help you paint the walls black, if you want.”

Nico laughs, a noise that sounds almost rusty with disuse, and Karolina joins in a moment later. No one comments on how the joke wasn’t that funny, just lets them have a moment to themselves before all piling on on the hug.

They’re not complete, not totally. Victor died, although there’s rumours circulating that make that sound like a temporary situation. And Alex had his second chance, and threw it away again. Gert’s not sure about the others, but knows that she would not open the door if he came knocking.

The flowers outside start to bloom, and Gert thinks they’ve been here a year now, or just about. Almost everyone is out, but Molly is doing homework at the kitchen table and Chase is attempting to make her an anniversary cake, or a birthday cake, or something. Gert keeps getting distracted from her book by his more creative curses.

Something outside roars.

Chase and her freeze at exactly the same time.

“Attagirl,” he says, face splitting into a grin.

Gert is already headed for the door.

“At this rate, we’re gonna need to buy the building,” Molly says, but she’s laughing, skipping behind Chase as they go to collect another one of their missing pieces.

[the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt]

Rum and Cupcakes (Epilogue- Part 2)

Some pure cuteness to get you feeling warm and fuzzy on your snow day, @a-city-dove . I know you were waiting for this :)

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

Epilogue: Part 1

Ao3

In early March, Roland took Emma up on her offer for him to help her bake some cupcakes. Robin was going to drop Roland off to her store on Saturday morning, and Emma was going to walk Roland to City Hall to be with his mother when the cupcakes were done. Killian left their apartment early to do some maintenance on The Rolly Joger. Upon his departure, Emma drove to her shop and got all the ingredients out for two cupcake flavors she thought Roland might like. She prepared recipes for cotton candy cupcakes and rich double chocolate cupcakes. She decided to prepare her frosting ahead of time, since Roland wouldn’t be able to help much with that and she didn’t want to bore the kid. She made a sugary marshmallow frosting for the cotton candy cupcake; she could feel her teeth rotting as she swiped a finger through the icing to taste it. It was perfect for a happy, hyper kid like Roland. She put the bowl with the cotton candy icing aside and she cleaned her mixer so she could make a simple chocolate frosting. She smiled as her lips closed over her finger and found that her frosting came out perfectly. Emma was pleased with herself as she put the chocolate icing next to the cotton candy frosting. All she had to do now was wait for Robin to drop Roland off. She picked up Killian’s latest recommendation, The Beautiful and Damned, and got lost in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s words. She only looked up when she heard Robin talking to Roland as they walked in; even the door opening did not distract her from her novel.

“Roland, I want you to be good for Emma. Best behavior.” Emma closed her book and walked over to where Robin was squatting on the ground in front of Roland.

“Okay, Daddy. I promise.” Satisfied, Robin stood up and ruffled Roland’s hair as he waved goodbye to his son. Roland waved back before he turned his attention to Emma.

“Alright, kid. Ready to make some cupcakes?” Roland nodded enthusiastically and followed Emma to where she laid out all the ingredients. “Alright, I know you like chocolate, but do you like cotton candy?”

“Uh huh!” Emma smiled.

“Good. I thought we could make a bunch of double chocolate cupcakes, and a bunch of cotton candy cupcakes. What do you think?” Roland was wide-eyed and all smiles. “Awesome!” Emma grabbed the butter from the opposite end of the table and measured out the correct amount for a batch of cotton candy cupcakes. She threw it into her mixing bowl and grabbed the bag of sugar.

“Alright, Roland. Want to help me measure out some sugar?” He moved to stand next to her. He couldn’t quite reach the top of the table; his forehead came to the edge. Emma grabbed a nearby chair and positioned it next to the table. She helped Roland stand on the chair so he could reach all the ingredients. Once the two got comfortable with their positions, Emma had Roland help measure the sugar, then pour it into the bowl with the butter. She softened the butter a bit herself, then let Roland mix the butter and sugar together with a spoon. Next, she showed him how to crack an egg without getting shells in the batter, and he was absolutely amazed by how she could crack four eggs at once. Roland loved the smell of the vanilla extract when she had him sniff it, and the curls resting on his forehead had some flour residue as he poured and mixed the flour into the batter. He started having trouble mixing as more and more flour was added, so Emma placed her hands around his on the spoon and helped him stir, claiming that he was doing most of the work and that he was so strong. The proud smile that graced his face made her smile in response as she decided the batter was sufficiently incorporated. She gave Roland an ice cream scooper. “Okay, get some of the batter into that scooper and then dump it in one of these cupcake liners.” Roland picked the liners out; they were a metallic emerald color. He carefully scooped some of the batter, then waited for the drips to stop before he moved the scooper over the cupcake liners. Emma watched as the boy slowly and meticulously cleared the whole bowl, filling as many liners as he could - under her direction, of course. She put the cupcake trays into the oven, telling him to stay on his chair as she did so, and she grabbed another mixing bowl on her way back. “So, chocolate cupcakes now. Sound good?”

“Yeah!” The bakers repeated the process from the cotton candy cupcakes with the new ingredients, and the first batches of cupcakes were done in the oven right when the chocolate cupcakes were ready to be baked. She put the hot cupcakes to the side to cool while she got a snack for Roland and herself. She let him come with her to the refrigerator, and he made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with apple slices on the side. She made herself a sandwich, though it looked pathetic compared to his carefully crafted creation, and she ate some grapes while she asked Roland about school and his friends and interests. He was remarkably sweet. He was smart, and she was amazed how happy he was to talk about anything she asked about; he would give Mary Margaret a run for her money. After their makeshift lunch, the cotton candy cupcakes were cool enough to frost, so she put them all onto a plate and let Roland loose with her decorating supplies. Admittedly, she may have gone a bit nuts getting things for him to decorate with. Emma got M&Ms, Pop Rocks, four different types of sprinkles, and she crushed up animal crackers and brought out her stash of chocolate chips. Plus, she had the icing she made before he arrived. She even stooped low enough to buy small tubes of store-bought icing in different colors so he would have the freedom to use whatever colors he wished. She pulled up a chair and sat across from him as he debated how to decorate his first cupcake. He grabbed the tube of brown icing and made a circle and two triangles on the side of the circle.

“What are you making?”

Roland didn’t take his eyes off his cupcake as he answered, “a puppy dog.”

“Does the doggy have a name?” Roland put the icing down as he thought about Emma’s question. He looked at the wall behind Emma as he pondered. A grin sprouted on his face as he came up with an answer.

“Little John!”

“Like from the Robin Hood stories?” Roland nodded, curls bouncing.

“My daddy tells me all about Robin Hood before bed every night.”

“That is very cool.” He smiled even brighter at Emma’s approval as he went back to his decorating. He gave Little John M&M eyes and a chocolate chip nose. Roland’s decorating was adorable. After Little John, he made a cupcake with a bow and arrow for his dad, and one with an apple for his mom. Roland made a polka dot cupcake, and one with Pop Rocks scattered all across the top. Roland focused intensely as he worked, his little tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration. Emma added the chocolate cupcakes to his plate as they cooled, and she removed the ones he finished. He looked up at Emma as he considered his next cupcake.

“Can I make one for Uncle Killy?”

“Of course! I can give it to him tonight if you’d like.” Roland grabbed the chocolate icing and squeezed it all over the top of the chocolate cupcake. “Daddy told me you’re in love with Uncle Killy.” Emma choked on air; she wasn’t expecting that. Roland, oblivious to her shock and amusement, kept talking, “I know Uncle Killy loves you.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Mhm. Uncle Killy always smiles when my daddy says your name. And his cheeks turn red.” Roland giggled at the thought. Emma had to hand it to him, the kid was perceptive.

“Well your dad is right. I do love your Uncle Killy.” Roland smiled, satisfied with her answer.

“Can you help me make a hook for him? He tells me all about Captain Hook when he watches me when my mommy and daddy go out.”

“Sure. Here, wrap your hand around mine. We’ll make a hook together.” Emma couldn’t help the smile that plastered itself to her face as she guided their hands to form a hook on the top of the chocolate frosting. “What do you think?”

“I love it!” Roland grabbed another cupcake and started pondering his decoration. Emma put Killian’s cupcake into its own box. “Are you and Uncle Killy married?” Emma froze.

“Um, no. Not yet.” Emma had flashbacks to less than a month ago; she was positive Killian was going to propose. She felt embarrassed just thinking about it, even knowing that Killian was out on his boat and nowhere near her store.

“Why not?” Of course he would ask more, he was a curious kid.

“Maybe it’s just not our turn to get married.”

“When will it be your turn?”

“I-I don’t know.” She had to recover from this. “But when it is our turn, would you come to our wedding?” A beaming smile burst onto Roland’s face.

“Yeah!”

“It’s a deal then.” They both turned their attention back to the chocolate cupcake he was decorating. “What are you making now?”

“It’s a swan. For you. Because Uncle Killy calls you Swan. And your name is Emma Swan!” She hugged him from her position next to him.

“Thank you, Roland. I love it!” Her heart clenched as she took her swan cupcake and put it with Killian’s hook cupcake. She wasn’t really a kid person, but Roland was probably the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Emma watched him work on cupcake after cupcake until there were no more to decorate, and the table was an absolute mess of decoration ingredients. “Alright, kid. How about you go wash your hands and I’ll clean the table? Then we can go see your mom and you can give her the special cupcake you made for her.” Roland jumped down from the chair and Emma led him to a sink for him to clean up. She cleared the back table of the sugary mess before heading back to help Roland finish up. She wiped the flour dust from his hair and wiped the chocolate icing from his cheek. When he looked clean again, he helped her box his cupcakes and they started heading for City Hall. Swan’s Cupcakes was within walking distance to City Hall, so she walked with him, his cupcakes under her arm. She kept a hand on his shoulder to keep him close until he reached his hand up to grab hers. Moving her hand from his shoulder, she gripped his little hand back as he held her’s and swung their hands in between them. Emma was so moved by the gesture, she fought back tears the rest of the walk to Regina’s office. When they arrived, Regina’s office door was open for them. She walked Roland in and he ran to hug his mother.

“How was baking with Emma?”

“Really fun! I made you a special cupcake, Mommy!” Roland raced back to Emma to open the box and find his specially decorated apple cupcake. He took it out carefully and walked it over to Regina.

“You made this for me?” Roland held it out further and nodded. “Thank you, Roland.” She took the cupcake and pulled him into a hug. Regina turned her attention to Emma.

“And thank you, Miss Swan.”

“No problem at all. He’s such a good kid.”

“Thank you, Emma,” Roland peeked out from under Regina’s arm.

“You are very welcome, Roland. We can do it again another time if you want.” He nodded. Emma turned to walk out, sending him a small wave on her way out. She exhaled upon stepping out of City Hall, thinking about how amazing Roland was. She started back for her shop to do a better cleaning job before heading home with her and Killian’s special cupcakes from Roland.

Killian got home just before dinner. Emma had put their cupcakes on their kitchen counter to await Killian’s return. He strutted in the door to find Emma napping on the couch; Roland must have tired her out. He kissed her forehead, effectively waking her.

“Hello, love.” He shucked his jacket off and reached down to untie his boots. “How was your day with my unofficial nephew?”

“Really great.” Emma yawned and sat up.

“Yeah?” Killian toed his boots off and walked over to Emma.

“Yeah. He was so well-behaved.”

“Aye. That he is.”

“Do you know what Robin’s been telling him?” Killian raised his eyebrows. “Robin’s been telling Roland about us.”

“Oh?”

“Roland told me that Robin told him that I’m in love with his Uncle Killy. And he told me his Uncle Killy loves me too.”

“Smart lad.”

“He asked why we weren’t married yet.” Killian’s amused grin faded.

“Swan, I truly apologize for leading you on like that, but proposing on Valentine’s Day was never my intention.”

“Killian, calm down. I’m not upset.” He stopped talking, waiting for her to explain. “I know it’ll happen someday. It just wasn’t our time to get married. But Roland had me thinking about the future. Our future.” Killian remained silent, scared to say the wrong thing. “I know we’ll get married eventually and it’ll happen when it happens. I was wondering your thoughts on something though.”

“And what would that be?”

“When we get married and we’re all settled, how would you feel about starting a family together?”

“Swan, I thought you didn’t desire children. You know I’m okay with that.” He was so understanding; she could melt at how sweet he always was about these issues. It was no secret to her that he wanted children; from what she’d learned about him, he had always wanted children. She blurted out that she didn’t want kids one night, and he had just accepted it. A part of her almost wanted him to argue with her because she knew how desperately he wanted a family, but he never once pushed her. He almost didn’t believe what he was hearing as Emma changed her mind after spending just one morning with a child.

“Well, spending the day with Roland got me thinking. He was so sweet, Killian. I had my hand on his shoulder to keep him close when we were walking to Regina’s and he held my hand. And he’s so small and adorable. I actually had a great time with him. So I thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to raise a kid with you. One of our own.”

“Truly?”

“Really.”

“Oh, Swan,” Killian had no words, so he pulled her lips to his and kissed her passionately to convey his approval. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers. “I would love to start a family with you, I’d be happy to, but when you’re ready. We can do this at your pace.” Emma breathed out a sigh of both bliss and relief.

“I love you.”

“I know.” Killian smirked.

“Fine. Be that way. I’ll just eat your special cupcake.” He pried his forehead from hers. “That’s right. Roland made each of us a special cupcake.” Emma grabbed his hand and led him to the box on the kitchen counter. She opened the box and watched a smile appear on Killian’s face as he saw the hook and the swan in the box.

“What do you say we spoil our dinners?” He gestured to the cupcakes and she laughed. He dropped her hand to take both cupcakes out of the box, handing the swan-topped one to Emma. They ate their respective cupcakes as his hand sought out hers again. He brushed his thumb over her knuckles and she went in for a hug when she finished chewing.

“If our kid is half as good as Roland, we’ll be lucky.”

“Our little cygnet or pirate will be amazing. How could they not be? They’re going to have the best mother in the world.”

“And a pretty amazing dad.” He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. She looked up at him, refusing to release him from her embrace. “Oh, I also promised Roland he could come to our wedding.” Killian chuckled.

“I think we can arrange that.”