#genuinely I’ve forgotten the faces and voices of close friends to a startling degree

[valerieismss]

I’m not sure if my inane ability to make miis extremely accurate to their real world counterparts contradicts or is a result of my prosopagnosia

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

Hey there friends and shipmates! I’ve taken a couple of weeks off on the Self-Promo Sunday posts, but I was looking back through some of my older pieces and found this fluffy one shot offering from a couple years ago. (It was part of the amazing @cspupstravaganza event in 2019.) I didn’t make it any cover art before, so I’ve added that to it as well. Taking place sometime post- season six; Hope is present and a toddler, but Henry is still there as well. That makes it canon divergent future fluff, I guess? Apologies if you’ve read this one before, but maybe you’ll get a little smile from revisiting it.

Also available on both AO3 HERE and on ff.net HERE

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Kililan chuckled good naturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she exited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?” 

Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if she might be playing some sort of elaborate joke at her expense.

Then, plunking her head down to rest on her arms crossed on the table, she sighed as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected. On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done. Even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son grew thoughtful for a moment, mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all? Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened - an expression Killian quickly mirrored.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now-steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie (in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart) and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again; annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question.

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place.

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few who may enjoy (or enjoy again!): @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @thisonesatellite @artistic-writer @hollyethecurious @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @thislassishooked @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @ohmakemeahercules @scientificapricot @gingerchangeling @teamhook @revanmeetra87@resident-of-storybrooke @elizabeethan @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @donteattheappleshook @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89

[cynnied-writes]

Perfect Imperfections

○ paring: kralsei ( kris x ralsei )

○ genre/warnings: pure unadulterated fluff with a bit of angst

○ tags: sunrises | worrying over dates | imperfection | early morning drives | sitting on mountaintops | sweet kisses | sun showers

○ word count: 3.5k

→ summary: ralsei is coming to visit and, after days of deliberation, kris knows exactly where to bring him.

○  note: so this is the kralsei thing I said I was working on over on @cynnied-art. I hope you enjoy!

Kris’ hometown was a barren land of clinical depression and midlife crises. Filled to the brim with literally nothing to do.

And yes, they’ve checked.

All you can do is; eat at the diner, hang out in the school’s playground, stare at the lake for hours… Get a concussion? Soon realize that, in the grand scheme of the universe, nothing you do will ever matter? Oh, there’s also a pizza place that doesn’t technically even serve pizza.

This is the bad place if you were wondering.

For Kris, this was all common knowledge. They had known this since they were twelve. And yet here they were. Still sitting at their computer. Bathed in the pale, artificial glow of the screen at 5 am in the morning. Trying to find something, anything, to do. But, after wasting their finite time on the interwebz, a realization dawned on them. Their search was, in fact, fruitless.

They let out an extended groan. Slumping into their computer chair at the sight of the miles of empty space on Google Maps. This was hopeless. They lived in a tiny town. A tiny town in the middle of nowhere. With the closest city being three long hours away. And if they spent one more minute looking at a screen their eyes would die. 

A softer sigh fell as they pushed away from the desk. Kris stretched as they stood up on wobbly legs. Their bones popping back into place. They exhaled dramatically. Ending the exaggerated motion slouched over like an exhausted Sim.

This was so lame. SO LAME!

Their boyfriend was coming tomorrow and they had nothing special planned. All because of their stupid, boring hometown. Sure, they could laze around on the monkey bars again. Share another milkshake at the diner? Or you know, contemplate the meaning of life for a couple of hours. For the second time. Ralsei wouldn’t mind. But that’s the reason for all the mounting stress.

He wouldn’t care. He’d be happy to spend time with them. The duo could be in the ninth ring of hell and he’d still say it was a pretty good date. He’ll never expect any more than their simple presence. He’s just so…

Perfect.

Too perfect.

And Kris wasn’t. 

Their legs were too long. Hair’s too shaggy. Mannerisms too odd. Mind and soul too fucked up. The immediate willingness to eat moss off a dungeon floor kinda solidified that.

And, yet…

Ralsei still smiled at them with eyes filled with galaxies. Blushed whenever he caught them gazing. Said words that only held a genuine affection. Sang them the kinds of songs only Disney princesses sang to their true loves.

His words might stutter or his lyrics might be on the cheesy side but, man…

These trips to the surface he makes… to visit them? To visit a creepy, loner that could barely hold a conversation? In their mind, there was no other option. His visits had to be special. 

Kris’ feet dragged across their bedroom floor. A hundred percent ready to crash into bed. They shuffled before a strand of light caught them by surprise. Not taking in that tomorrow was now today.

The bright beam stung as Kris ran to close the curtains. Their hands paused, though. Gripping the rough fabric, they peered through the gap between them.

Orange and pink hues blended in the early morning sky. Contrasting against the shadowed tree line, the sun slowly rose. Its rays stretching across the horizon.

Any hint of drowsiness they had slipped into the background. Their soul lost its usual burdensome weight at the sight. Memories from a time almost forgotten reemerged in Kris’ mind.

Sitting high up. So high, it felt like they were in another world. Looking off into the distance. The same orangish colours surrounded them. Cool breezes brought golden leaves with them. Warmth seeped from the knitted scarf around their neck. Warmth seeped from the loved ones who were near. 

Everything was… perfect.

Oh.

In that moment, as they stared out of their window, enchanted by the sunrise, they knew.

They just knew. This was the view Ralsei deserved to see.The two teens snuck out of Kris’ home shy of twenty-four hours later.

The two teens snuck out of Kris’ home shy of twenty-four hours later.

With hands interlocked and fog all around them, they made their way across town. The sharpness of the air filled their noses. They kept their voices hushed and footsteps quick. Up above them the navy blue blanket of the night began to brighten. Slowly changing shades in the sky above.

Ralsei let a yawn escape him.

A few moments ago his steady had the honour of waking his tired form. Though the gesture was as old as time, a heroic knight waking a sleeping princess, this time it wasn’t with a kiss. His knight’s methods involved things like poking his side and harsh whispers. Not exactly fairy tale material but accuracy is a small price to pay.

Especially because he got to experience the wondrous things that are sleepovers. Sleeping in Kris’ room. Sleeping in Kris’ bed. Hogging all the blankets because they smell like sunshine. Kris didn’t seem to appreciate that last one. But, they also didn’t appreciate nice smelling sheets like he did.

Although, one caveat dampened the experience a bit. They had to forgo the “sleeping-in” part of a sleepover. No waking up to strands of light coming from the curtains. No smell of breakfast drifting from downstairs.

Nope, only waking up before the sun was even awake and sneaking through the streets. Like a couple of rapscallions.

Guess he still had much to learn.

Their feet finally crunched on fallen leaves as Kris brought him to the Flower King. Or rather, the side of it. His steady let go of his paw, using their spare hand to rummage through their inventory pockets.

Earlier in the day, Kris had waltzed into their father’s shop. Locked in loaded with a puppy-dog grin and years of unused “child of divorce” brownie points. They also maybe over-exaggerated their driving abilities a bit.

Okay, maybe a lot.

But, nonetheless, his truck would be back in its spot before 9 am and in the exact way he left it. As promised. Most likely. As long as they didn’t have to parallel park at any point.

With a startling beep, their father’s truck unlocked. The duo got in and tried to settle into their seats. Both a bit nervous about the endeavour. Kris more about the actual act of driving and Ralsei about the defiance.

He sank into the worn, leather seats as he began to worry. It was one of his oldest pastimes. His thoughts endlessly spinning worse and worse outcomes of his current situation.

This excursion couldn’t end well, right? There were a thousand different ways it could all go wrong.

Before he could spiral down any further, Ralsei jumped out of his thoughts as the old truck burst to life. The engine began to rumble. All the tiny lights and icons along the dash started flickering. While the soothing tones of John Denver drifted through the radio.

“Are you sure about this, Kris?”

They glanced up from adjusting the driver’s seat height to their size instead of their father’s. They tilted their head as a simple reply.

“Kriiiiiss.” He scolded, understanding their unspoken sentiment. It’s not like he didn’t know they were a teen of few words before they had started dating.

Continuing their silence, Kris’ head only tilted further. Resembling a ninety-degree angle instead of one belonging to a proper steady. Ralsei sighed, “You know what I mean. There’s no way your mother’s going to be okay with this.”

A shrug for a reply.

“How about we go for breakfast at the dinner from the second time I came? Those checkered things we had were pretty tasty. Waffles, right?”

A small grimace, this time.

“Or how about that strange P‘e’zza place? I’ve never had ice pizza before.”

“You’ve never had any kind of pizza before,” Kris said, their voice filled with confusion and disgust. So, now their words came out. Of course. They continued to mutter, “You’re first pizza isn’t gonna be a goddamn Ice P‘e’zza. Not while I’m still breathing.”

Ralsei flashed a small smile as he put his paws up in defence. Soft chuckles falling from his lips.

“It’s just…” He barely said before his sentence trailed off. Gaze turning to the sleeping world outside of his window. Kris reached over to take his paw and intertwined their fingers. Urging him to continue. “I don’t want to cause a fuss, Kris. I don’t want to… Your mother’s going to be so upset if she finds out. She’s going to punish you for an eternity. She’s going to—”

“Be ecstatic.” They said, drawing intricate circles into his fur. “I’m with ‘friends’, remember? She won’t mind.”

“That excuse isn’t going to work forever.”

Kris’ hand lingered with his as their head settled forwards. Staring off into the foggy woods. Easily drifting into deep thought.

Sure, it was a matter of when and not if their mother would ever figure out what was going on. No doubt. There was only so long she could believe whatever she wanted to believe. But, that day wasn’t today and thus that was a problem for future Kris, not them.

That kid’s fucked.

Themselves on the other hand? Present Kris? They had something spectacular to show their lonely prince. No strict rules or possible eternal damnation was going to stop them.

“Don’t worry, Rals.” They drawled as they took their prince’s fluffy face into their hands. “Future Kris’ got it handled.”

Now it was Ralsei’s turn to do the head tilting. His words coming out as jumbled as the thoughts in his head.

“Future Kri—What do you—? Futur—? Are you—?” He almost finished a single thought before Kris ducked under his hat and gently kissed his cheek.

They pulled back, flashed him a quick finger-gun-smirk combo, and put the truck into reverse. Letting out a chuckle as his love pulled up his scarf and down his hat. Hopelessly trying to cover his blush.

His steady was weird. A good kind of weird, though.

One that urged them to word for word recite the passage ‘Alas, Poor Yorick’ for no reason. The kind that allowed them to remember the rules to a satanic ritual but not the order of operations. A special kind of weird that caused them to resign to shackle themselves to a dungeon wall and eat floor moss.

They were all things he loved about them but, they were weird nonetheless.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s eternally grateful for Kris falling that day. He thanks the pillar of darkness every day. But, it’s just that any kind of kisses from them was so overwhelming. The simple act causing his cheeks to match his scarf’s hue. Though, he never complained because they also always calmed him like magic.

Why was being in love was so complicated?

Luckily, it was less complicated than driving. Of which the basic mechanics were entirely lost to him.

The truck jostled along the dirt road. Its headlights the illuminating the surrounding foggy woods as they went.

Kris’ knuckles had turned white a few miles back. Changing shades as they had turned off of paved streets and onto rougher terrain. Through their shaggy bangs, lidded eyes had never once deviated from the road. Perhaps they were being too cautious. Too wary. But, how could they not be? They were carrying the most precious cargo.

At just the thought of him, their eyes flicked to Ralsei curled up on his seat. Gaze settled outside his window. Intently watching the world rush by. Yawning every so often.

A small smile graced their face. They leaned back in their seat and released some of the tension in their fingers. Settling into a focused-yet-more-relaxed driving mode.

The road ahead got tighter as it began to curve. Letting them ‘round the side of one of Appalachia’s many mountains. Engine rumbling as they went. Luckily, for them, the truck had made this trip several times. Though they hadn’t been in the driver’s seat.

Glimpses of the past revealed themselves as their destination grew closer. A dozing Asriel sitting beside them. Eyes and head drooping as he fought back the dastardly enemy that was sleep. Their parents in the front seats, both humming along to the turned down the radio.

That’s when they saw it.

A nice patch of the mountainside overlooked valleys below. Tall, wild grass with flowers sprouting up in patches. They pulled up. Easing the truck to a full stop a couple meters from the optimal gazing spot.

Their whole body relaxed, finally. Head lolling back onto the headrest. Letting out a breath and closing their eyes. Knowing they made the trip here safely.

“We’re here?” Ralsei asked, yawning as his bones cracked while he stretched.

They threw him a lazy thumbs-up and clicked their tongue. Catching his yawn before holding out a hand, “Specs, please.”

His head and eyebrows cocked at their request. The urge to ask at least several questions rising in him. But, knowing Kris, they wouldn’t answer any of them.

With a sigh, he let the world turn blurry as he handed his glasses away. Soon after, scarred digits took a hold of his scarf, pulling it loose. Guiding it from his neck to cover his eyes. Before the world went dark as they tied a tight knot at the back.

Now, sound and touch were all he had to go on. Kris’ soft hum once they were finished tying. The clicks of their seat belts unbuckling and the whirring of them gliding back into place. A thunk as their door of the truck swung open. Another as his side opened.

Their hands guiding him out of the vehicle and over to an unknown spot. The dewy grass under his paws and roundness of the air. And finally, the familiar weight of his glasses returning.

He blinked once and then twice before his jaw dropped.

A golden world awaited him.

The sky he had fawned over weeks prior seemed so much more expansive. Stretching from the ends of the earth, blanketing everything around them in a warm hue. Streaks of orange, red, and yellow danced along it. Like a painter’s brush strokes. All independent at times. Before blending together to make the wondrous painting in front of him. Light, fluffy clouds lazily drifted across the background.

And in the center of it all?

A thing, once upon a time, he’d never thought he’d get to see.

The Lightners’ brightest star.

No, it was his too now.

Their brightest star. Their most prized possession rose from the horizon. Slowly but surely making its way to its throne in the heavens. Lighting up their little corner of the world. Not that he could quite remember it wasn’t just him and the celestial body. No, as he gazed upon the sun and a wave of serenity washed over him, it felt like there was no one else left on Earth.

Wait, there was someone else with them.

Ralsei pulled his sight away from his new friend to his real-life company. His silent knight.

Kris sat close beside. Their form bathed in the rays as they sprawled out in the tall grass. Golden light illuminating their whole body. Creating a god-like glow around them. At last, they seemed to be at peace. Then, as their head lolled back, their long bangs fell to either side. Revealing the gems they kept hidden from the world.

An occurrence rarer than any blue moon.

Maroon irises admired the painting before them. They were filled with something he couldn’t quite place. Contentment? Amazement? Nostalgia? Whatever it was, when their eyes drifted from the sunrise over to him, it was still there.

Oh…

Perhaps it was love.

He still had to come to terms with that fact. That somebody alive and sentient loved him. Somebody as wonderful as Kris loved a wreck like him. A tiny ball of nerves and anxiety. Terrified of falling too fast and too hard. Being too needy. Too much much of a bother. Being too… everything. And not being what Kris needed.

But,

They never seemed to mind.

They always were an attentive listener to all his rambling but, always knew the right time to stop him. Lest he enters a perpetually downward spiral.

They were one hundred percent willing to become the hero that he needed. Not questioning ludicrous, reality breaking implications for anything he told them.

And when they were ready, Kris would talk for hours.

About stories from when they were younger.

Barely believable conspiracy theories.

Loosely connected thoughts stringed together profoundly.

They were just so perfect.

And this, the sneaking out in the early morning, the quiet drive, and the sunset. It was all just so…

Perfect.

Kris reached out and laced their fingers together again. Pulling him out of his thoughts. Right on time as always. They gazed at him with, his throat tightened, love-filled eyes. Their usual neutral expression replaced with upturned lips and those softened gems.

Oh, darkness, don’t cry.

Don’t cry, Ralsei.

Don’t cry.

Don’t—

Dammit.

“Kris,” He choked out as tears began to well. They threatened to fall and ruin this perfect moment. Kris’ perfect moment for him. No, he had to pull himself together. “This is, this is. It’s…”

Yep, stuttering is a surefire sign of someone who’s totally not on the verge of a breakdown. So embarrassing. SO EMBARRASSING!

“Rals,” They began softly. Eyes squinting as they searched for the right words. “It’s… okay. Tears of joy, right? It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Not helping. Not helping at all.

“Oh, damn it all.” He cursed as he mustered up all the courage he had. Within the second, he bounded over to his steady. His beloved hat falling to the wayside as he wrapped his arms around them. Burrowing his nose into their neck. Inhaling their piney scent as he blurted out, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

The two stayed like that for a while. Enjoying each other’s body heat and tight holds. But, all good things must come to an end. And this good thing ended once he pulled back. Quickly realizing their current position.

His arms rested linked on their shoulders as he sat in their lap. And with their hands settled on his hips, their bodies were close.

Super close.

Close enough for a… kiss?

Yes, Kris thought as their hand made its way up to his cheek. Close enough to stare into his galaxies for eyes. Close enough to breathe the same air. Close enough for his head to block out the morning sun. Creating a glowing halo around him.

Definitely close enough.

Also, definitely a perfect way to punctuate their date.

But, alas,

Mother Nature had another idea in mind.

“Was that a raindrop?” Ralsei blinked and shook the excess wetness off of his snout. He rose from their lap to scan the horizon. Brows furrowed as he adjusted his glasses, “But, there aren’t any clouds?”

Despite the obvious lack of cloud coverage, rain began to pour down on them.

Kris, reluctantly, got to their feet. Their fingers ran through their messy brown locks as they closed their eyes. At least they got their sunrise.

With a deep sigh, they called out to their love, “We… should get back. Sorry about this.”

“Why?” Their eyes shot open at his question. That’s when they saw him. Spinning around on the balls of his feet as his giggles resounded through the air. His arms swung and legs kicked as he jaunted around the field. “This is amazing! How weird is this! Raining while the sun’s still shining! I’ve never heard of this. What is this, Kris?”

Oh.

My.

God.

He wasn’t upset?

“Sun showers,” They answered like a ditz. Their mind still running wild. Trying to comprehend how he could be this happy about it raining on their perfect date. “They, uh, happen sometimes. You don’t want to go?”

“No! I love it!” Hat long forgotten, he ran up to them, eyes a glow. Hands outstretched until they intertwined with theirs. “Dance with me!”

It was less of a question and more of a demand, not that they minded though. With all his might, Ralsei swung them around the wild grass. Dancing something between the waltz and a folksy jig. Loudly humming out a familiar tune. Soon, their laughs joined his humming. Until both faded and only the gentle beats of the rain were left.

They were close once more.

Super close.

Now or never.

Kris straightened their back and cleared their throat before asking, “Do you, maybe, want to—”

“Yes.” He cut them off, a look of pure unadulterated love on his face.

And then, they did it.

They kissed.

It technically wasn't a perfect kiss. The rain continued to beat down. Their now soaked clothes uncomfortably clung to their bodies. His fur wasn’t as soft and fluffy as it usually was. It was more damp and kinda spiky. Their skin somehow felt sweaty and tight. But,

None of that mattered.

Nope. Not to them.

Somehow, like everything else about the two of them, it was perfect.

Perhaps, their imperfections were what’s perfect.

At least to them.

And in the end, isn’t that the only thing that matters?

The End!!

I hope you've enjoyed reading this. If you did, any kind of comment would be appreciated! 

I've been working on it for a loooong time. Just glad it's all finished! Finally, I'm free!

[snowbellewells]

A Litter More Than They Bargained For

{Oh my goodness, this event has just been a joy, and I have loved every entry I’ve gotten a chance to read so far.  I’m excited to add mine to the list, and hope that you all will enjoy.  Thanks so much to all the lovely ladies on the @cspupstravaganza Discord chat, particularly @shireness-says  @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan  @kmomof4 and @darkcolinodonorgasm, for all of the amazing dog name suggestions - I put a fair few of them to use here! ;)  Also, @profdanglaisstuff thank you bringing us such a fun event!!}

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

by: @snowbellewells

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Killian chuckled goodnaturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she excited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?”  Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if it might be some sort of elaborate joke being played at her expense.

Then, she plunked her head down to rest on her arms where they were crossed on the table, sighing as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected.  On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done, even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son then grew thoughtful for a moment, as if mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all?  Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, an expression Killian quickly mirrored, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a soft kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again, annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question. 

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place. 

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

Tagging a few others who may enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @gingerchangeling @thislassishooked @spartanguard 

[snowbellewells]

A Litter More Than They Bargained For

{Oh my goodness, this event has just been a joy, and I have loved every entry I’ve gotten a chance to read so far.  I’m excited to add mine to the list, and hope that you all will enjoy.  Thanks so much to all the lovely ladies on the @cspupstravaganza Discord chat, particularly @shireness-says  @profdanglaisstuff @snidgetsafan  @kmomof4 and @darkcolinodonorgasm, for all of the amazing dog name suggestions - I put a fair few of them to use here! ;)  Also, @profdanglaisstuff thank you bringing us such a fun event!!}

“A Litter More Than They Bargained For”

by: @snowbellewells

One pet she could have handled. One pet would have been perfectly manageable. A single, sweet-natured, reasonably well-behaved small pet - maybe a cat or a rabbit or even a hamster - wouldn’t have really changed anything about their lives in the seaside house or their daily routine that much. In fact, she and Killian had already been discussing a surprise for Hope in the form of a kitten from the litter her mom and dad’s barn cat had recently birthed, completely charming their pre-schooler upon her first visit to them at her grandparents’ farm.

Somehow, instead, all of Emma’s best-laid plans had been inverted and overturned, as so often seemed to happen in their chaotic magical town. When they had gone into the station that particular morning, they had found a large, mud-caked, burr-riddled dog tied to the bike rack and whining pitifully upon first sight of them. Emma was too disgruntled at the culprit for figuring out that their whole three person department were soft touches for strays as she charged foward to untie the poor beast, to even realize that the critter was already rooting into her affection. Needless to say, rather than their intended adoption, they had managed to take in a shaggy, slobbery mixed breed almost as large as a Shetland pony, with at least some Irish Wolfhound in its ancestry, according to the shelter attendant.

Gleefully mimicking that last declaration in her toddler voice, Hope had leaned over out of Killian’s arms to reach for where the huge hound lounged panting on the exam table, tongue lolling and tail thumping happily as she babbled, “Wolfie! Wolfie!” and patted along the dog’s back and shoulders as well as she could.

The thick, scruffy grey fur covering the animal’s lanky form did indeed resemble a wolf to some degree, and Killian chuckled goodnaturedly at the easy moniker their daughter had seemingly bestowed. “Well, it would seem our little love has already christened her, Swan,” he commented lightly.

Emma wasn’t fooled by the casual demeanor covering her True Love’s words. She felt her last chance of finding a more suitable home for a dog of that size outside the town limits (preferably with acres for it to run) fade as she realized that her husband, as well as her little girl, was already attached. Killian wanted this dog more than he would admit.

Reaching out to stroke the gentle giant’s head resignedly, Emma reluctantly admitted to herself that the poor stray really was a sweet dog, despite her astonishing proportions and the amount of extra responsibility she herself would no doubt be taking on. “Hear that, Wolfie?” she questioned, looking the dog in the eyes rather than either member of her family, whom she could feel nearly vibrating with excitement beside her, “I guess you’re as good as ours.”

Henry only confirmed the permanence of the decision when he got home from the high school after his editors’ meeting for the school paper. Though a dog had never been something he had particularly asked for - they had spent so many of his growing up years being flung from one realm to another, either trying to rescue some member of their family, or seeking the needed magic item to fight some new villain, that it hadn’t left a lot of time for house training puppies or taking one for leisurely evening strolls. Still, as Henry came up the walk and saw Wolfie stretched out on the porch, Hope cuddled against her side and Emma and Killian curled together on the porch swing, the way her nearly adult son’s face had lit up and he’d rushed forward in excitement had shown Emma that kids didn’t really grow out of loving dogs, no matter their age.

Ruby, or perhaps the irrepressible brunette’s inner wild animal, seemed to find their new addition, and the rather obvious name Hope had latched onto, especially entertaining. Due to Wolfie’s size, the Jones clan now ate outside at the patio tables when they stopped for breakfast on the way to drop Hope off at Ashley Hermann’s Pumpkin Seeds Daycare, and before Henry took off for class and they headed on for the station. Her mother’s best friend didn’t even try to hide the fact that she saved back either bacon, sausage, or ham especially for Emma’s pet each day, laughing when after about a week Wolfie came to her the moment she excited the diner’s front entrance, before she could even reach their table, and began nosing at her pockets for the expected bounty.

However, it was Granny herself who startled them with a matter of fact question about a month after Wolfie had joined their family. The diner’s proprietress had come out to wait on them herself that morning, a real nip in the air as November neared, and explaining that Ruby was lying in for a while after the full moon the night before. Her half-spectacles perched on the very end of her nose, eyes sparkling with every bit as much pep and mischief as her exuberant granddaughter when she neared their table, sleeves rolled up to her elbows despite the chill and a pencil tucked behind one ear.

“The usual, Captain?” Widow Lucas asked with a playful nod to Killian, “or are you and your crew feeling adventurous this morning?” While awaiting their answer, she reached into her apron for her order pad, also pulling out a juicy ham bone for Wolfie.

“Here you are, darlin’ girl,” she continued, bending to offer it to their canine companion, much to Wolfie’s approving delight as she barked a ‘thank you’ and took the treat into her drooling jowls with an almost humorous care, then immediately dropped to hold it between her massive paws and began gnawing away.

When Granny stood to face them again however, a knowing smirk was painted across her face, taking their breakfast order seemingly long forgotten. “You don’t have a clue that dog is carrying a litter of pups, do you?” she asked, shaking her head at what she seemed to think was their dense naivete.

Crossing her arms, Granny watched a variety of reactions cross the four faces before her. Henry looked awed and curious, while Hope practically bounced on Killian’s knee asking, “Puppy? Puppy! We having a puppy?”  Killian’s brows rose in surprise, and Emma was already shaking her head in disgruntled exasperation. “Really?” she sputtered, narrowly eying the diner owner as if it might be some sort of elaborate joke being played at her expense.

Then, she plunked her head down to rest on her arms where they were crossed on the table, sighing as her daughter contiuned to chortle in delight and Henry and Hook laughed heartily, in spite of their manful efforts to hold back for her sake. “Why am I even surprised?” Emma muttered. “Of course, she is.”

***

From there, they learned that apparently the shelter owner did not have it out for them, but that it can be genuinely hard to tell when a dog is expecting until they are quite close to their due date. It also turned out that Granny’s lupine sixth sense had been right on the money. Within another couple weeks, they could see for themselves that Wolfie’s stomach was rounding and she was nesting in corners throughout the house, particularly favoring the warmth of the laundry room between the dryer and the wall. Seeing as how canine gestation was only eight or nine weeks from start to finish, and their mother-to-be was already showing, it was a bit of a scramble to prepare, knowing the litter of pups would soon be on its way.

As had become typical since Wolfie’s arrival, this too went well beyond what they had expected.  On the night they returned from Hope’s Thanksgiving Play at the preschool to tiny yips and whimpers greeting them the second the door opened, the entire Jones family was stunned to discover eight small wriggling bodies jostling for place against Wolfie’s exhausted form where she lay curled into the mound of old blankets and towels they had created for her once her fixation on her laundry room nest become plain. Various rather wetly bedraggled and squirming balls of grey, black, white and mottled mixes of those three colors in coat greeted their eyes, prompting Killian to comment rather drily, “Well, now there are nearly enough of us to crew a pirate ship.” He chuckled, shaking his head, as he added, “Mayhap we can give them proper nautical names this time, rather than letting Hope call them the first word that pops from her mouth.”

“Paaa-pa!” their daughter protested indignantly, stomping her little foot on the linoleum tile and placing chubby fists on her hips. “I did not!” In her two braids, beaded headband, and fringed brown “Indian” dress from the play, she made more an adorable than a threatening sight as she intended, but Killian nodded to their daughter dutifully all the same. “My apologies, little lass. Of course you didn’t. I must have been mistaken.”

Emma rolled her eyes and shook her head at his mannered playfulness with Hope, though her heart warmed inside her as well, loving that their little girl had never known anything but a devoted, adoring, present father, who might have to be pulled back from spoiling Hope at times, but would never let her down or abandon her. The two of them could melt her every defense, just as Henry had always done, even if it did sometimes leave her trying to be the voice of reason, Emma didn’t truly mind.

Henry, for his part, snorted inelegantly at their nonsense, crouching to pet a nervous-looking Wolfie on the head and scritch under her chin the way she liked. “Don’t worry, girl,” he mumured soothingly. “We won’t hurt them. You’re all safe here.”

Her son then grew thoughtful for a moment, as if mulling something over, then looked up when he asked excitedly. “What if we did pick nautical names for them all?  Like Jack and Jib and Scurvy?” He was grinning from ear-to-ear now, an expression Killian quickly mirrored, as his Author’s love of wordplay awakened.

“Aye, lad, those are great! And perhaps Scoundrel and Buccaneer as well?”

“Hey, hey, guys,” Emma broke in, trying to stop their now steaming train before they got any more carried away. “Let’s not get too into naming them. The families who adopt them may not be looking for pirate dogs.”

But her husband and son were already on a roll, adding Barrie in a nod to the Englishman who had created Killian’s literary counterpart and Doubloon to the list of potential puppy monikers, and not paying her words the slightest bit of attention.

***

Finding homes for their doggie brood proved more difficult than Emma had hoped. If nothing else, it had worked out that they were being weaned just in time to join a family for the perfect child’s Christmas present. And, much as she had intended for them to have a quiet little tabby kitten padding after her through the house rather than a train of panting, yipping, running and tumbling balls of shedding fluff, the pups were sweet and incredibly cute. So she couldn’t understand how every time she thought she had someone poised to take one home, it fell through at the last moment.

With a sigh, she turned away from the sidewalk where old lady Hubbard was walking away. Still cradling Cutlass and Matey to her chest, one in each arm, Emma crossed the porch to sink onto the porch swing with a dejected air. She bent to press a soft kiss into each of their soft, fuzzy foreheads, murmuring what good babies they were and that it wasn’t their fault. Intellectually, Emma knew it was rather ridiculous to be trying to comfort two puppies who were now playfully rolling and tumbling in her lap, not the least bit concerned at the interview’s outcome. They really had been particularly good as their potential new owner had arrived to meet them; sitting calmly without barking or jumping up, sweetly licking the elderly woman’s fingers affectionately when she offered them, and looking even more adorable than usual with their coats freshly bathed and brushed, so black and silky that their fur nearly shone. All their neighbor had seemed able to focus on though was that they might get under her feet and cause her to fall. When Emma had spoken to her before, the older lady had seemed so anxious for some company now that the last of her many children had left the house, but once she had arrived to see the puppies, all she kept saying was, “I’m all alone out there. If I fell, I might lie for days, unable to get up, and no one would know.”

Emma shrugged her shoulders and ruffled the pups’ fur once again, annoyed, but not sure what to make of the situation. Standing, she was about to take the two little rascals back inside when Killian arrived home for the evening.

“They’re both still here?” he asked curiously, one eyebrow arched in question.

Something niggled at the back of Emma’s mind with his question, whispering that he didn’t seem especially suprised. Shaking her head in silent answer, Emma ushered man and dogs back into the house and headed toward the kitchen, where she still had all of the dog dishes to fill.

“Ah well, Love,” Killian replied, something about his voice just a shade too nonchalant. “Perhaps it’s for the best. As energetic as these scalliwags sometimes get,” he laughed and scratched Matey’s belly when she rolled over to bare it in supplication, “they might have proven a walking hazard to one of advanced years.”

Emma was about to question him further, shocked that Killian had hit on exactly what had stopped the potential adoption, but at that moment Wolfie and the other six of her offspring burst into the kitchen and set up a chorus of barks and howls for their dinner, toenails clicking on the floor and tails thunking against the cabinets. So it wasn’t until later that night, as she was speaking to her mother on the phone, bemoaning yet one more failed attempt at finding the pups permanent homes, that the niggling puzzle piece at last slid into place.

“Well,” Snow offered hesitantly, “I’m sorry it fell through, Sweetie, but you know Mrs. Hubbard isn’t all that steady on her feet these days…”

Suddenly, it all added up: Mrs. Hubbard’s unexpected concern with puppies tripping her up around the house, how Ashley had at first thought they might take one of the puppies, only to be convinced by someone that mice would be much more fitting for class pets at Cinderella’s daycare, and how Aurora and Philip’s second child, Hope’s little friend Rory, had suddenly decided she wanted a white Persian kitten whose hair she could put a pink bow in, “like ‘Rie from ‘Ristocats” Aurora had explained in her daughter’s own words when she’d called to tell Emma.

“Oh my word!” Emma shouted, startling her husband, kids, and the pile of dogs sprawled over them in the living room where they were watching tv. “It was you all, wasn’t it? My whole family has been working against me this entire time!”

Looking sheepishly guilty, Killian and Henry both wordlessly shook their heads in denial. Her mother floundered for a defense for a few seconds and then simply fled by ending the call. But when Emma’s eyes came to rest on her daughter, Hope merely grinned widely, a shameless glint of mischief in her green eyes, and nodded her head in confirmation.

“Why?” Emma sputtered.

“Then the puppies are all ours!” her toddler chirped happily, falling back against Wolfie’s shoulder with a giggle, to which Wolfie merely huffed at the impact, then nosed Hope a bit further from the edge of the couch, as if she had one extra pup to watch out for and was making sure the child didn’t fall.

“We’ll see about that,” Emma grumbled, staring each of them down in turn. But, when she flopped down on the armchair in the corner, trying to hold onto her righteous indignation, and Scoundrel came over to check on her, pawing at her leg until she picked him up, and then nudging his grey snout flecked with white patches into her armpit as he stretched out across her chest and promptly fell asleep, Emma was smart enough to know when she had lost the fight.

They were the family with nine dogs now - an entire seaworthy crew.

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