#my uncle and my stepdad) are all over 6 feet

[fingertipsmp3]

I’ve got this new (and not peer-reviewed yet unfortunately) hypothesis that tall people tend to be more accident-prone than the rest of the population

[searchingwardrobes]

Christmas in Storybrooke: 6/11

I know the number of chapters keeps getting lower, but usually I have the opposite problem. So when I outlined this, I underestimated how much I could fit in each chapter, so they keep getting combined. But it's been working out since posting a chapter each day has been more difficult than anticipated.

I'm a little nervous about this chapter because it and the next one are the reason for the M rating. And, well, it's Henry. Just remember - he's an adult. Andrew J. West. Andrew J. West. Repeat that mantra. It isn't smut, but Henry is definitely acting like a grown man. Having said all that, I love this chapter so much and hope you enjoy it too!

The title of this chapter comes from the song by Kelly Clarkson. I've been listening to her Christmas album a lot as I write this and my CS Secret Santa fic, and this song is so perfect for Henry and Evie!

Summary: My Hallmark Christmas movie fic in which flights get cancelled and Henry’s “best friend’ gets snowed in with him in his quirky hometown for Christmas. Only with magic and fairy tale characters.

Rating: M for suggestive scenes and adult situations, not smut

Trigger warnings: Henry is an adult. Read that again: Henry is an adult. Look at the picset: that’s Andrew J. West. If Henry actually behaving like an adult makes you feel icky, the don’t read this.

Can also be read on Ao3

Tagging @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @jennjenn615  @kday426 @bethacaciakay @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @yohoyohoafandomlifeforme @distant-rose

 Chapter Six: Wrapped in Red

The day Henry met Evangeline Crawford, he knew they had at least one thing in common. He had been staring down at his phone, not looking where he was going, when he smacked right into her. She was struggling to carry a box of paperbacks as she moved into the apartment across the hall. When he knelt to help her collect them, he teasingly asked her what grade she was in.

“Is that some sort of sick pick up line?” she had snapped with clear disgust.

He had rubbed the back of his neck, distressed that she had misunderstood. He had waved the book in his hand around. “I can tell you’re a grown woman. It was a pitiful joke about your taste in literature.”

She had snatched the copy of Ella Enchanted out of his hand and stuffed it back into her box as pink stained her freckled cheeks. “Lots of people read YA lit these days. Ever heard of The Hunger Games? Divergent?”

But the box she clutched defensively to her chest wasn’t filled with dystopian novels. Instead, they were all written by Gail Carson Levine, Shannon Hale, Melanie Dickerson, and Marissa Meyer. They were all fairy tales.

Henry really hoped in this moment that Evie’s reading tastes meant she had the heart of a true believer because what he had to tell her was incredibly difficult to believe. Of course, she’d almost fallen through a portal, so there was that.

She clutched a mug of hot cocoa in her trembling hands. His mom sat across from them at the kitchen table. His siblings had been sent outside to “practice their magic” on clearing the walk of snow. Hopefully, there would be no Frosty impersonations along the way.

“So,” she said, setting her mug down slowly, “you said let’s go inside and sit down. Well, we’re sitting. Now care to explain to me how a hole opened up in your parent’s shed and almost swallowed me?”

Henry let out a long, slow breath. “Okay, I don’t really know how to ease into this, so I’ll just say it. Storybrooke wasn’t on the GPS because it’s not supposed to be here. It was created by a curse that my mom – Regina – cast the day my other mom was born.”

“Seriously?” Evie’s voice was halfway between incredulous and hysterical.

“My mom,” Henry continued, pointing at Emma, “is the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. I introduced them to you as my Uncle David and Aunt Mary Margaret, but they’re really my grandparents.”

Evie scowled at Henry. “You must really think I’m stupid. Those people are nowhere near old enough to be your grandparents.”

Henry swallowed nervously. “They are if time was frozen in Storybrooke for 28 years.”

“This is . . . this is . . . “

“Impossible?” Emma finished for her softly, putting a hand gently over hers. “I understand how you feel. I felt the exact same way when Henry first brought me here. But It's all true.” She tugged on Evie’s hand. “Come here, let me show you something.”

Evie seemed to be in a daze as she followed Emma to the front door. From the doorway, they could see Hope with her hands outstretched, sending bursts of magic to clear the snow from the front walk. By the side of the house, Leia and Charlie were supposed to be doing the same with the driveway. Instead, they were using magic to hurl snowballs at each other.

“Leia Snow and Charles David!” Emma shouted. “Is that what you’re supposed to be doing right now?”

“No mom,” they grumbled, turning reluctantly back to the driveway.

Evie swayed slightly on her feet. “Am I dreaming?”

Henry put his arm around her and guided her back inside. But instead of steering her to the kitchen table, he sat her down on the sofa. He took both of her hands in his; they were cold as ice.

“I know this is a lot to take in,” he said hesitantly.

Evie shook her head. “So, you’re saying that this town is magical?”

Henry nodded.

“And you’re the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming?”

He nodded again.

“So, that makes your adoptive mom, who? The . . . Evil Queen?”

Henry squirmed a bit. “Um, yes, but she’s given up her evil ways.”

Evie nodded, staring down at the floor. “Are you telling me that fairy tales are -”

“True? Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

Her brow wrinkled as she lifted her gaze to his. “Your book. That was all true?”

He chuckled. “I like to say it’s inspired by real life. I did get kidnapped and taken to Neverland like the character Elias in my book. And Peter Pan was an evil demon. But the rest? I made up.”

“So Tinkerbell and Tiger Lily aren’t co-captains of a an all-female crew of pirates?”

“Um, no. As a matter of fact, you met Tinkerbell yesterday. Tina?”

Evie dropped her head between her knees for a moment, then sat up and massaged her temple. “Who else have I met?”

“Well,” Henry began hesitantly with a glance at his mom, “my stepdad is Captain Hook.”

Evie rolled her eyes and let out a wry laugh. “Of course he is. He’s missing a hand. What? Did he hide is hook because I was coming?”

Emma shrugged apologetically. “We didn’t want to freak you out.”

Evie surged to her feet. “So instead you let me stumble around in the shed and . . . and . . . I don’t even know what happened in there!”

“It was a magic bean -’

“A magic bean?” Evie shouted, hysterical now. “What the hell?”

Henry stood, reaching his hands out tentatively to rest upon her shoulders. He was relieved when she didn’t shrug him off. “They open portals,” he explained slowly. “They used to be rare, but Tiny has cultivated fields of them on the outskirts of town. People use them to travel between the realms.”

“We keep a bag here and in the sheriff station in case of an emergency,” Emma spoke up. “I’m sorry we didn’t keep them in a safer place.”

“I’m . . . I’m . . . ,” Evie’s eyes looked panicked as she pressed her hands to her cheeks, “I need to go lie down.”

“Evie -” Henry started, but this time she did shrug him off when he went to hold her.

“Give her time, Henry,” Emma encouraged him, reaching out and squeezing his hand.

He looked up the stairs and hoped she wasn’t going up there to pack her bags.

************************************************

Henry tried to give Evie space, but after almost an hour, he couldn’t take it anymore. He made his way upstairs, opening the door of his old room as slowly and quietly as he could. The room was dark, and Evie was curled up on the bed in the fetal position. He couldn’t see her face as he eased down on the bed, wondering if he should say something to her. He reached his hand out twice, but both times, he snatched it back, unsure if she wanted him to touch her.

“Who’s Tiny?”

He startled as she rolled towards him. “I’m sorry?”

“Tiny,” she repeated, sliding up to lean back against the headboard, “you said he grows the magic beans.”

“Oh, um, he’s a . . . giant.” He winced, knowing how crazy it sounded.

She arched a brow. “As in Jack and the Beanstalk?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but Tiny wasn’t the bad guy, Jack was. And . . . um . . . Jack was a woman.”

Evie blinked. “Okay.”

Henry slid up to lean back next to her, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. “The true stories are a lot different than the ones you heard growing up.”

She nodded, and they were both quiet for a really long time. Finally, she shifted closer to him and nudged his shoulder.

“I just have one question.”

He took her hand. “Anything.”

“How did you manage to hide a giant from me all this time?”

He laughed in relief, relinquishing her hand to envelop her in a tight hug.

****************************************************

Evie looked nervous as he opened the passenger side door for her. She stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the mayor’s mansion, her eyes wide.

“You grew up here?”

Henry cleared his throat. “Yeah. It was quiet and boring, though, trust me.”

She reached for his elbow and clutched it as they made their way down the walk. “I’m even more nervous about having dinner with them now that I know who they really are.”

“They can come across as a little . . . intense,” Henry admitted, “but they aren’t the Evil Queen and the Wicked Witch of the West anymore.”

“And Robyn’s Dad was Robin Hood.”

“Yes, but my Aunt, she . . . kind of tricked him into thinking she was Maid Marian.”

Evie stopped abruptly, and he turned to see her shaking her head incredulously. “Don’t take this the wrong way Henry, but your family is really screwed up.”

He sighed and rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to tell me that. I lived it, remember?”

“And your other grandpa is Rumplestiltskin who married Belle, also making him the Beast, but he also is the one who took your stepdad’s hand, so he’s also the Crocodile?”

He gave her an admiring grin. “You catch on quickly.”

She shrugged, seeming pleased. “Well, they don’t exactly want idiots on the FBI.”

They had reached the door now, and before Henry could even ring the bell, his mother had opened the door and embraced him. She then turned tentatively to Evie.

“Henry called and said he told you everything?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Evie replied, “and though my head’s still spinning a little bit, it’s also kind of . . . an adventure.”

Something about Evie’s expression seemed to make Regina relax her stiff posture and release a breath. “I’m so glad you’re taking this all in stride. I was a little worried . . . “ she trailed off as she ushered them inside.

“Just as long as you don’t serve her any apples,” Zelena teased as she came out into the foyer to join them.

“That’s not funny,” Regina hissed.

Zelena rolled her eyes and winked at Evie. “I’ve always been the one with a better sense of humor.”

Evie laughed as Zelena threaded her arm through hers and escorted her into the dining room. As they passed the stairway, Henry noted that heavy plastic still hung from the ceiling.

“Was the upstairs heavily damaged?” Henry asked his mom.

Regina waved her hand in irritation. “No, it’s just that the work crew isn’t too keen on putting a lot of work into it with the holidays and all. The three of us are going to have to camp out in the den tonight. I apologize for the state of my home, Evie.”

“No need,” Evie assured, as they all took a seat, “I’m honored that you had me over under the circumstances.”

“Well, you need something besides burgers at Granny’s and Pop Tarts,” Regina snarked.

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s the truth,” his mother huffed.

Henry dropped it as Robyn bounced in with a basket of rolls. “Hey, Evie!” she said as she plopped down beside her mother.

“Hey isn’t the proper greeting,” Regina corrected her.

“And don’t slouch, dear,” Zelena added.

Robyn sat up straighter, though she let out a huff as she did so. “Be glad you don’t have two moms,” she told Evie.

“I second that,” Henry laughed, giving his cousin a fist bump.

“Okay, you two, enough of that,” Regina scolded mildly. Then she picked up a spatula and started cutting into the dish in front of her. “I hope you like lasagna, Evie.”

“I love all Italian food,” Evie replied, accepting a helping from Regina. “One of the things I love about New York are the restaurants – especially the Italian places.”

“Well, I hope you like my recipe. It’s famous here in Storybrooke, but this isn’t little Italy.”

Henry had never seen his mom so nervous about her lasagna. She was usually downright cocky about it. Now she was holding her breath and watching as Evie took her first bite.

“I can see why,” Evie told her with a genuine smile, “this is really, really good Ms. Mills.”

“Thank you, and please, call me Regina.” She rose from the table to get the wine, and as she walked past Henry she whispered, “I really like her.”

Henry wanted to clarify to his mom that he and Evie were just friends. He wanted to roll his eyes when Regina winked at him. But honestly? He was pretty sure his feelings were obvious to everyone in town. But were they obvious to Evie?

***************************************************

“So, how bad was it?” Henry asked as they got out of the car at Emma and Killian’s house.

“Not bad at all,” Evie told him. ”Your Aunt’s a little . . . “

“Insane?”

Evie chuckled. “I was going to say eccentric.”

“How polite of you. Or are you doing that thinly veiled insult thing you say southern women are so good at?” Henry nudged her. “Should I call you Scarlett?”

Evie backed away from him with her hands behind her back, her winter boots leaving tracks in the snow. “Please, if I were a southern literary character I would never in a million years be Scarlett O’Hara.”

“Oh?” Henry asked. “Who would you be then?”

“Scout Finch, of course.”

“Ah, the tomboy.”

“Mhm, and Scout is way more fun. Scarlett would never do . . . THIS!” She punctuated the final word by attempting to throw a snowball at Henry’s head. He doubled over laughing when the snowball burst into a small flurry before it made an impact. Evie’s disappointed pout made it even funnier.

“And like both Scout and Scarlett, you know nothing about making snowballs. Have you ever even been in a snowball fight?”

“Yes!” Evie grumbled, putting her hands on her hips, “We do get snow occasionally back home, for your information.”

Henry gathered up some snow in his mittened hands. “Okay, and how did those go for you?”

Evie glanced away from Henry. “Kind of . . . the same way that first snowball I threw. But I thought it was just because the snow was . . . mostly ice and mud.”

“That’s pitiful, Scout Finch,” he said as he continued to work the snow in his hands, “because the key to a good snowball is to pack it really well. See?”

He waited until Evie had drawn close to see his snowball, then he grabbed her and shoved the snowball down the back of her shirt. She drew in a sharp breath at the sudden cold, then screamed as she danced around to dislodge the snowball.

“You are going to so pay for that fairy tale boy!”

“That’s a horrible nickname,” Henry laughed nonchalantly as he worked at another snowball. Evie was gathering up snow, but he wasn’t worried. She still wasn’t packing it hard enough as she ran for him. But instead of throwing a fistful of loose snow like the last time, she leapt towards him and smashed it in his face. He sputtered to get the snow out of his mouth and blinked his eyes. Evie was already sprinting away from him as she laughed, and he took off after her. Soon they were slipping and sliding all over the snowy lawn as they threw snowballs and stuffed other ones down each other’s shirts. By the time they made it inside, they were breathless with both exertion and laughter.

They stomped as much snow off their boots in the mudroom as they could, then peeled off their snow encrusted coats, hats, scarves, and mittens. Henry found a drying rack in the laundry room, and they draped all their wet outer wear over it.

“My clothes are soaked too!” Evie said with a half moan/half laugh.

“Me too,” Henry said, rubbing at his wet hair. His nose and ears were numb too.

Evie shivered as she rubbed at her arms. “I want nothing more than my warm pajamas.”

“And a pile of blankets,” Henry added as they made their way towards the stairs. The house was quiet, and his parents had turned off the Christmas lights. It seemed everyone else was already in bed.

They made their way as quietly as they could to the attic, and then Evie grabbed her pajamas from the end of the bed and dashed into the bathroom. Henry peeled off his wet shirt, then struggled out of his soaked jeans. Even his boxers underneath were wet. He hurried into fresh ones as well as a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. Then he draped his wet clothes over the radiator. He had just finished up when Evie came out of the bathroom. He turned towards her, and what he saw caused the breath to rush out of his lungs.

It took his mind back to that summer. Evie had come across the hall in a tight little black dress, the back half undone. She was red-faced and irritated that she couldn’t reach the damn zipper. To say it was a little dress didn’t really convey how short it was. It was for work, some undercover thing, and her legs had been on gorgeous display.

Just like they were now. She was standing there, the light from the bathroom spilling around her, in nothing but her pajama top. It was the same button-up flannel thing she had been wearing all weekend with the little snowflakes all over it, and it hit the top of her thighs. Nothing overtly sexy, but a complete turn on all the same.

“I - uh – forgot to grab the bottoms,” she explained, tugging at the hem of the shirt. He moved towards her, unable to speak. “Henry?”

Her hair was down, the ends slightly damp and curling slightly. It was hanging over one shoulder, and the side of her neck that was exposed drew his attention. He reached up and tucked a stray hair behind her ear, then drew his finger down the skin just behind it. She drew in her breath a little, but didn’t speak or pull away.

“Do you remember that day you came over and asked me to zip up your dress?”

She nodded. His gaze shifted to her eyes, which were watching him intently.

“You turned away from me, gathering your hair up off your shoulders. I felt like I was some bumbling teenager as I worked the zipper. I noticed this freckle here,” he bent and kissed the one behind her ear, “and the one here,” he kissed another on her neck, then he pulled back, his nose brushing hers. “I saw freckles on your shoulder blade, right next to the strap of your bra. I even noticed a cluster on the back of your right knee. And I wondered just how many you had and what it would be like to count them all and kiss every single one.”

She still didn’t speak as he pressed a kiss to the freckles on her nose. “One,” then he kissed each cheek, “two, three,” he kissed her forehead, chin, and each eyebrow, “four, five, six -”

“Henry,” she breathed as his lips hovered over hers, “there are a lot more than six freckles on my face.”

“Oh, you’re right. I missed one here,” he brushed a kiss against a freckle just below her lower lip.

He grinned when her breath hitched. He wasn’t sure who moved first, but then their arms were around one another as their lips moved together. He cupped her face as he swiped his tongue across the seam of her lips, and she parted for him on a sigh. Evie slipped her hand up the back of his shirt, running her fingertips along his spine. He broke away from her lips and kissed the freckles at the hollow of her throat. She let out a moan as his lips drifted lower, his nose nudging aside the neckline of her shirt. Then he was undoing the buttons, and he glanced up to see her eyes closed, her head tilted back. He took his time kissing each and every freckle as he undid the first button, then the second. He felt her tremble slightly when he exposed her breasts.

“Henry,” she moaned, “maybe we should . . . “

Her words were contradicted by the way she dug her fingers into his hair. And maybe they should have paused and considered what this meant for their relationship, but by the time Evie’s shirt hit the floor, neither of them were considering anything other than the way their bodies reacted to each other’s touch.

[raudomuess]

My ghost story...

TLDR: we’ve had stuff reappear in random places, gotten stuff thrown at us, heard people walking, felt other presences, and have been spoken to in our family’s voices, despite it not being our family talking.

So... I’ve been reading a few different stories about people’s real-life haunting, and I decided that maybe I should share my own?

The first ghost I saw was when I was 5 or 6. I came out of my room after waking up to go see my mom, who was in the kitchen making breakfast. I opened my door and this guy comes walking by. He was in a tux and had a hat. He was sorta transparent? Like a grayish color but at the same time sorta rainbow-ish? Like the light was splitting, I guess. I hid in my room and called for my mom and refused to walk through the hall without the light on.

At a different point, my sister and I woke up to find some glitter body spray dumped all over her desk. My sister would occasionally sleep-walk, so we decided to chalk it up to a sleep-walking incident, but we don’t really know.

One day, I was tossing around my little brother’s basketball. I accidentally knocked off one of my stepdad’s model cars from the top of the desk (it had a really tall back). It didn’t fall all the way and I couldn’t reach it, so I just left it and hoped nobody would notice. When we got home that night (I did this before school), it was back on top of the desk. Part of it had broken off. When my stepdad got home, he noticed it. I got in trouble for trying to hide it instead of telling someone- despite my protests that I didn’t stick it back up there, that I couldn’t even reach it. It was really random, but I’ve never understood how it managed to get back up there.

A few years later, we moved into a new house. The whole vibe of that house was off. We never really felt right there. I was terrified to look off the top bunk at night, even with a night light or a tv on. We had a few random things break or move, but we generally just pushed it off as someone had moved this or bounced or something.

Then we moved again. This house was very interesting.

As we moved, my camera disappeared. Just completely disappeared. One day, it randomly appeared in my mom’s closet- it definitely hadn’t been there before. This was months after moving.

My mom’s room had a bathroom attached. About three feet in front of the door, she has a nightstand and then her bed. When she would change, she would drop her spare coins off on the nightstand. At random times, these coins would fly off at whoever was walking by. This happened to my mom on multiple occasions- these coins would fly from the middle of the nightstand three feet over and hit her ankles as she walked over the threshold to the bathroom. It happened to me only once, but it freaked me out so much that I refused to go in there alone afterwards.

Another time, we were standing in her room so that she could fix my hair. Her dresser was one of the big ones with a mirror on top, so we were looking into it. She had a jewelry box on top of the dresser, and had a little heart charm that had fallen off a bracelet sitting on top of that. As we’re standing there, this heart literally lifts into the air and falls down in front of the dresser. We both saw it pick up into the air. We each looked at each other like “Did you see that too?” There was nothing we could do, so my mom just picked it back up and finished my hair.

I always heard random footsteps in the hallway at night- but I thought I was the only person who did. My mom and sister both denied these. Recently, my mom admitted that she heard them too, but she always tried to write them off as creaky floors.

At another point, my sister and I were hanging out in our living room. My mom came from her room to go to the laundry room with her dirty clothes. Her purse was in the kitchen, but she didn’t stop. When she walked back to her room, she hollered for us to come in there. There was just money, sitting on the floor. It was the same amount of cash that she had had in the pocket of her purse. I went to check her purse, and sure enough, the money was gone. Idk why our “friend” found this amusing, but whatever.

One time, we were all sitting at the kitchen table, having a game night. All of a sudden, the laptop started playing a song- it was like “Say something I’m giving up on you.” That was creepy.

We were prepping to move the next summer. (Yeah, we’ve moved a lot.) We has already packed up almost everything, so my sister and I were camping out in my brother’s room, since his mattresses (he had a bunk bed) were still out. As we’re drifting off to sleep, my sister just says “hey, *my name*?” Like she was getting my attention. I didn’t respond- idk why, but I just felt like I shouldn’t? I asked her the next morning- she didn’t say it (and she can’t tell a lie with a straight face). I mean, she could’ve been sleep talking, but we had only laid down a few minutes before that and the whole thing just felt wrong.

We moved in to my Nana’s house. One day, I was in my Nana’s room with her. The door was closed to keep out the dogs, because we were re-bandaging a big cut on my toe. We both hear my mom stop by the door and say hey (with footsteps). I asked “what?” And then we hear the footsteps keep going, complete with the door to the front porch and everything. So we’re like, “okay??” We finish with my bandage and go out. I ask Mom what she wanted and she’s just like huh? She had apparently been outside for a while now, and didn’t ever stop by my Nana’s room on the way out.

At a different point, I had gone to get a shower one morning. Everyone had moved out to the porch. My uncle was there and came in to ask me if I was okay- he had apparently heard me holler out something, but didn’t know what it was. I didn’t make any noise- I wasn’t even singing or anything.

By that winter, my sister and Mom had moved to a new city. I went to visit over break, and laid my cross earrings on my sister’s dresser. When I woke up the next morning, one earring was there, but the other one was missing the cross. The hook was there, just the cross was gone. I was seriously concerned- those were my favorite earrings. They didn’t show up again over break. I moved up there when the school year ended. We moved into a different house that fall. As we were moving everything, I found the second earring (I had long since thrown out the remaining earring and hook, thinking it was a lost cause). It was behind MY dresser.... in a completely different room from where I lost it (I know for a fact that it was on the hook when I took off the earrings, and I never went into the room that it was in until after I actually moved in). It couldn’t have been swept in there without somebody noticing- the floor in front of the room was uneven, so it would’ve taken specific efforts to sweep it into the room.

I wasn’t present for this one, bc it happened between the time that my mom moved and I moved. Basically, they’re sitting in the living room, which has view of the kitchen. A cabinet door starts opening. This could easily be explained- it’s not set right, it wasn’t closed, whatever. But then, the door starts closing. It came halfway opened and then went to almost closed.

Additionally, over the summer, my mom, sister, and I went to the store. On the way back, my mom and I were up front. We both hear my sister say “hey Mom.” My mom asks “what?” and I turned around. She didn’t answer and is, evidently, lost in thought. My mom again asks “what?” and then my sister was confused- she says she didn’t say anything.

Sorry for the book!