#ouat post s6 divergence

[snowbellewells]

Self-Promo Sunday: “Savior’s Haven”

I totally meant to post this last Sunday, but I was confused for a bit by the changes on my cover art making site. I’ve got it sorted now, so I hope you’ll enjoy this autumn-hinted fic, now complete with some art. I also posted both parts at the same time for this post, just so you don’t have to go searching for Chapter Two if you want to continue...

This fic was originally written for a lovely event called @csseptembersunshine, put together by @captainsjedi. Thanks so much to @captainsjedi, I really had fun working on it - so much so that it grew into having two parts - and reading the other entries, not to mention all the fun with the lovely ladies on the @CSSNS Discord chat who offered a wealth of name suggestions to me. I used one in the first part, and another in the second.

This is what I call “missing moment fluff”, meant to be to taking place sometime post season six in Storybrooke, but before Henry leaves and prior to Hope’s birth. This time of year seemed like a lovely time to revisit it, but I’d love to hear what you think, and I hope you will enjoy!!

**Also available on AO3 or ff.net, if that is your preference.**

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Part One

It began one cool September evening on the way home from weekly dinner at her parents’. Killian offered Emma his arm to wind hers through as they began their leisurely walk back through the darkening streets of Storybrooke. They had nearly reached the street their own two story house by the sea was on, gently arguing back and forth with cheeks flushed by the chill night air about who would have to take the early shift at the station the next morning, when they heard the soft, almost overlooked, whimpers just off the sidewalk.

Coming to a concerned stop at the sound, both sheriff and pirate deputy were alertly trying to locate its source within moments. It didn’t take long, even with the gathering shadows. Peeping around the corner of the lattice gate enclosing the front walk along Mrs. Sprat’s Bakery, it was Killian who located the pitiable, shivering culprit responsible for the troubling noises drawing their attention.

“Swan,” he breathed, barely audible in an effort not to startle the small creature he had already knelt and reached out towards. “Over here, Love.”

Having moved a few feet ahead in her search, Emma stood and came back toward her husband carefully, already aware from the tone of his voice - low and soothing - that he was trying not to frighten a terrified critter of some sort. “I’m here,” she answered quietly, crouching beside him to see into the flowering bush Killian had knelt beside. “What is it?”

Her sailor straightened slowly, pulling his hand and hooked arm back from where he’d reached into the bush, carefully cradling them against his chest with the small animal he had retrieved. In his care and gentility, the way he looked down at the terrified and shivering black puppy Emma could then see in his arms, she was reminded once more of one of the most compelling things she loved about this man who had survived a life of harsh trial, challenge and pain. Though once lost and angry, seeking nothing more than his revenge followed by long-awaited death, the darkness her husband weathered alone for so long still had not darkened him permanently. The heart beneath was still tender and open to hope the moment he was offered a way to regain it, and it had made him into the very man who could love her with enough understanding, patience, depth and determination to indeed win her heart, just as he’d vowed.

He showed the same calm restraint in that moment as Emma watched his large, calloused hand stroke along the back of a trembling, undersized and scrawny little dog, and her heart swelled, loving him all the more for it.

“And just what has happened to you here, pup?” Killian murmured, rubbing the soft, silky ears soothingly as Emma leaned in closer to examine the protruding ribs and dirt-caked legs and paws. The puppy’s large, soulful brown eyes turned on her as if already begging a piece of her own heart. She wasn’t any more anxious than Killian to turn the little guy loose in the night now that he was untangled from his thorny prison. Both of them could all too easily recall what it felt like to be hungry, cold, and abandoned in a world that felt much too large and uncaring to face.

Her husband’s clear blue eyes met hers over the small canine head between them, and Emma could only smile reassuringly at him, already certain the little guy was as good as theirs as soon as they could get him fed and back to health. “Come on, let’s get him home and cleaned up,” she urged, shivering a little herself the longer they stood out in the night air, a wistful smile on her face at the thought that maybe they had found an orphan of a different sort to give a home like both she and Killian longed for in their youth. “We’ll make sure he isn’t hurt beneath all that dirt and grime and see what a warm bed and good night’s sleep do for him.”

Killian nodded his assent; the two of them clearly of one mind, as they were quite startlingly often. True, they might find out tomorrow that someone was looking for the sweet little guy, but she still sensed they were bringing home a new member of the family.

*****~~~*****~~~*****

Such events began to repeat themselves rather quickly after that, though their next addition was of the human variety - a young man in Henry’s advanced math class - and took much more careful finesse on both of their parts to win over and put at ease.

Rolly (a name chosen much more from Emma and Henry’s teasing affection for his tipsy past self in their Back to the Future adventure than by Killian’s choice, though he had good naturedly accepted being outvoted) had only been an exuberant and adored member of their household for about a month in fact when Henry brought the new kid at his school home for dinner. As it turned out, Oliver was a holdover refugee from the Land of Untold Stories, and though he had found lodging with the fairy nuns in a spare room at the convent and took communal breakfasts and dinners with them before heading off to, and after returning from, school each day, many of his hours were spent either studying or roaming the park and woods of the town alone. 

Henry had run into Oliver one day down by the docks, and noticing the way his school mate watched the weekend sailors with the eye of a skilled pickpocket, had without too much effort in going through his storybook figured out just who the other teen might be. Henry realized that he’d had a fair bit of experience at it in his former life, and so, introduced himself and offered the seat next to him on the bench and a share of his cheese fries from Granny’s with the pretext of asking Oliver what he thought of their teacher and the math class in general, had brought forth a genuine burst of conversation from the other boy and - Henry had hoped - forestalled the trouble the other young man might have gotten up to.

It seemed that once Henry had witnessed his parents’ incredibly soft hearts for outcasts in person (and having gained a pet out of it, was hardly going to complain) the Truest Believer had felt that they were the perfect people to lend a hand in the situation he had discovered as well, hence the dinner invitation. He came by his charitable outreach honestly - not just from Emma and Killian, but his whole family after all. When Oliver sat down to their table with them that first evening, they learned that while the boy was grateful for the Storybrooke convent’s willingness to feed and clothe him, to give him a room and bed to sleep in, it was a far cry from having a family of his own - something he never even remembered possessing - and a place where he could truly belong.

They learned little more from Sister Astrid when Emma approached her booth at the Miner’s Day festivities that weekend.  Not that the friendly young woman didn’t want to help, but none of them knew more than Oliver himself did, not even his last name. The secretary at the school had merely noticed at the end of the previous school year that he seemed to repeatedly be the first student to arrive at the high school building in the morning and one of the last to leave each afternoon - until it finally became clear he didn’t have anywhere else to go. This had lead to the sisters sponsoring his schooling and offering him a place to stay until he finished.

After that supper, to which Oliver thanked them for inviting him profusely, Emma could tell the young man was reluctant to leave. And yet she could also see he had pride enough not to want to seem needy; a mortifying motivator that she remembered all too well. She and Killian mulled their options for a bit, until one sunny Saturday Killian offered the teen a day’s work helping batten down his ship for the winter months. When he convinced Oliver to return to their house for supper that night, Emma could see long-dried tear tracks on the boy’s face and sensed in Killian’s bearing that his own soul had been bared as well. It was clear the two of them understood each other in a deeper way from their day spent together on the Jolly. When they broached the topic of his living with them for the rest of his senior year and until he decided what he wished to do after, it was clear her husband’s way with words and the heart had allowed this young man who had already charmed them both to accept without feeling shamed or beholden. 

Henry had been thrilled, as had Rolly, since the prospect of someone else to throw sticks and take him for walks pleased the lab mix as little else could. Though Oliver only stayed with them for a little over a year, it allowed their son to feel as if he had gotten to experience having a sibling as he had always wanted, and he enjoyed every moment he got with his foster brother. When Oliver wrote them from his dorm room at the college of his choice, he closed with the best words he could possibly have given Emma and Killian. “...You both provided me the haven I had been missing - the first place I ever felt I belonged until now, settled in at the second. I’ve found where I’m meant to be, and I never would have if not for the two of you.”

They missed their temporary second son, even if he did occasionally come back to visit, but as the weeks and months and years went by, Rolly and Oliver proved to be only the beginning.

Part Two

As it turned out, Rolly and Oliver were only the start of a train of outcasts and strays - lost souls one and all - who began to make their way to Emma and Killian’s home by the harbor in Storybrooke.  Even if there was some occasional wondering about having enough room or rearranging how all of the house’s occupants might fit, neither sheriff nor sailor had the heart to turn anyone, young person or beast, away from the only thing both of them had ever wanted and finally had to share - a home.

Not long after Oliver had left their house for college in the Land Without Magic and Henry had gone through the portal he’d procured to explore the realms and find his own story, Emma found herself feeling the loss of their once quite full nest. She would never trade the quiet evening strolls she and Killian took around the town, both in an effort to lessen Rolly’s boundless energy before he destroyed the entire first floor, and to enjoy the crisp scent in the autumn air and the crunch of fallen leaves under their steps. It was a genuine luxury to actually have downtime together merely to look at the Fall oranges and reds transforming their tiny town and take in the cool temperatures and the cozy smells of cookout bonfires on the air arm-in-arm with her husband, Emma’s head resting easily on Killian’s shoulder. Still, despite that priceless comfort and harmony, as much a novelty as it was, Emma couldn’t help missing the hum and bustle of a house full of life and action, crammed to the ceiling with the marvelous chaos that she had enjoyed for the last couple of years.

Yes, she had long been part of the shuffle of too many kids no one wanted in one foster home after another; all shoved in under one roof with not enough room, not enough food, and never enough attention or affection. But what a difference just a bit of love made, turning a crowd within four walls into a family. If she could give that to kids like her, so they didn’t need to spend years of their lives feeling unwanted, then she would do it. And she knew that Killian’s childhood had been even more scarring, and that he absolutely shared her desire to offer better where it was needed.

Granted, they had also been trying for a child of their own, but so far they’d had no luck. Emma didn’t want to stress over it unduly, but the doubt and fears couldn’t be fully kept at bay. Even if there were no real medical reasons behind it, she tormented herself wondering if the trauma of having Henry so young, shackled to a bed in as high a stress environment as prison, without the best prenatal care or nutrition, had done some damage she had been unaware of, or left some scar tissue that made conceiving again more difficult. In her guiltier moments, she struggled to dismiss the creeping voice that whispered, “You had a healthy, perfect little boy, and you gave him up.” Regardless of her unselfish intentions at the time for Henry being able to have his best chance, during the darkest hours of a late night or early morning, when sleep eluded her, Emma found herself fearing that maybe she just didn’t get a second chance.

Killian was unfailingly gentle, sweet, and patient with her; encouraging her that they had all the time in the world for a babe of their own, the rest of their lives together. Still, she knew her pirate had regrets and blame of his own that he shouldered when he thought no one was looking. He had lived in Neverland, completely outside the normal passage of time, and while he might appear only slightly older than her, in reality, he had lived for centuries. Was he too old to father a child? Was that why they kept failing to get pregnant?

It wasn’t something that could be easily answered, and making themselves crazy certainly wouldn’t improve their odds, so most times both Sheriff and her deputy tried to put their desire for a little one of their own out of mind and to focus on the many happy moments they enjoyed. They baby-sat the little prince - Emma’s brother was now nearly seven and a ball of energy interested in practically every sport, activity and skill under the sun - when her mother and father needed to get away for a date night. Killian took to helping Belle reorganize and reshelve the books in the library on free afternoons and evenings, and added an extra frisson of excitement for the regularly attending children when he dressed up in character for the storytime selection Belle read, or when he served as enthusiastic reader himself.

Emma discovered she found it quite therapeutic to go out to the beanfield Anton tended on the outskirts of town and burn up frustration or anxiety digging, shoveling, raking, weeding, or whatever the gentle giant needed done. He’d made himself a regular attraction by this point - especially in the Fall, since he also nurtured a pumpkin patch and sold berry preserves and cider from plants grown himself. She’d always had a soft spot for Anton, and many of the dwarves who often worked there as well were much more palatable in the fields than when they were running into the station yelling the alert about whatever new danger had arrived in town or forcing her to play referee in their own petty disputes. Even Leroy was markedly less Grumpy out in the brisk air with solid, dependable work at hand to do. His gruff ‘Mornin’ Sister,” if she was able to join them early in the day, and his handing her a shovel or hoe as she took the row next to him seemed to be his way of accepting her into their number, and though Emma wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone else, it did warm her heart each time. The bearded man who would have been an “uncle” of sorts to her in another life seemed less abrasive and more grudgingly affectionate the more time that passed.

Whatever the case might be, and whatever else they found to do or to fill their time, Emma knew the wish was still present in both their minds. Though Henry and Killian’s house operation, the place they had dreamed of sharing with her even in her darkest moments when she had felt almost lost to them both, had long since become each of them’s first true home, some part of her still wanted it full of giggles and mischievous whispers, shrieks of glee and the slap of little bare feet on the hardwood floors.

One night, about a year after Oliver had left for college and Henry had set off for other realms, Emma had gone down to the docks as evening neared, anxious to see her husband after a day spent at separate tasks, and to walk home with his warm, familiar arm wrapped comfortably over her shoulders. She had made a casserole that was one of Killian’s favorites from dinners with her mom, dad, and little brother; she had followed Snow’s instructions to the letter and was anxious to see how it had turned out. Home cooking was still not what Emma would call a strength of hers, but she was getting better… she hoped.

However, as she neared Killian’s ship, docked in its assigned slip at the harbor, Emma noticed the sky had gone rather suddenly dark, wind gusting distressingly through the sails and spars and whistling loudly. She had to genuinely lean into the breeze with determination as she reached the side and then took Killian’s outstretched hook when he saw her coming up the gangplank, pulling her into his arms as she clambered over and onto the deck. 

“Bit of a squall on its way, eh Love?” he murmured against her hair, brow raised in teasing question as he pulled back just slightly to study her rather anxious face.

She gave him a soft smile, reaching light fingers up to brush over the scar on his cheekbone. “Well, I came to walk you home for supper, but do you first need help battening down the hatches, Captain?”

Her pirate shook his head, chuckling lightly at her playful banter. He had already secured the Jolly as well as could be accomplished, having an innate, almost sixth sense for inclement weather after so many years on the sea. She might be tossed on the swells that were already beginning to rise and fall and to rock the hull wildly, but the old girl had withstood much worse in her time, and she would still be there come the morrow. “She’s all set, actually,” he answered, moving to grab his jacket, scarf and the other items he needed, ready to head home with her, but unable to resist teasing back at least a bit. “The Jolly’s a steady lass, Swan. She’ll manage the weather just fine.”

They were both prepared to disembark for the docks and be on their way, when a frightened howl of distress met their ears over the wind whipping the sails and the water smacking against the wooden sides.

Swinging back around in concern, they both sought the source of the animal cry for help in the rapidly darkening and turbulent surroundings. However, it was a sailor’s sharp eye which let Killian find the distressed and already bedraggled mass of wet grey and brown fluff somehow tangled in the rigging a few feet over their heads. Probably the poor thing was a stray, not long separated from its mother and littermates by the size of him, and might have begun the climb for fun, but was now both entangled and terrified, and nearly drenched from the rain which had begun pelting down around them.

“Oh, there he is!” Emma cried out once she spotted their poor feline victim as well; illuminated in his uncomfortable perch by a startling flash of lightning. “How did he even get up there?”

Both of them moved almost as one in an effort to reach the poor kitten wriggling valiantly to free itself, ‘mewing’ pitifully to beg help of anyone who would listen. However, Killian, with years of practice maneuvering about his ship in all sorts of weather, and with a natural agility and grace that never ceased to leave Emma marveling, was quickly hopping up onto the railing, and had a foot in the rigging himself, a couple steps bringing him close enough to reach their unhappy stowaway, before Emma could even figure out how to proceed.

The yowling of the tiny creature intensified as Killian stepped onto the rope, probably squeezing the poor little guy, Emma realized, if he were tangled tightly enough. “Swan!” her husband shouted over the ever-increasing wind and rain. “I can’t unravel him! Get the knife from my boot and hand it up to me!”

Moving quickly, Emma did as he asked, and finally, with a few expert slices, the kitten was free, cradled to Killian’s chest beneath his jacket, the wretched squalling now lowering to a more plaintive and pitiful refrain. A few seconds later, her husband was alighting on the solid deck once more and holding out his rescued prize for her inspection.

Unwinding her own scarf and wrapping it around the nearly weightless seeming body of skin, bones, and fluff, Emma cooed to the tiny cat gently, hoping to soothe and reassure the frightened animal that it was safe with them now. She looked up at Killian, who was shivering slightly and fairly drenched himself, but all the same, appeared rather pleased with his efforts and watched the new critter - clearly already one of their own - burrow into Emma’s warmth and begin to purr with such gentle affection that it made Emma’s chest swell in response. 

“Let’s get you both home, dry you off and warm him up, and see what we can do for this little guy,” Emma suggested, squeezing Killian’s hand gratefully for his kindness and caring and wanting him to know how glad she was he had scaled the height for a poor, lost kitten.  

*****~~~*****~~~*****

The next day’s trip to the veterinary clinic on Storybrooke’s outskirts confirmed what they had already nearly determined for themselves in the intervening hours - their scrawny but handsome new arrival was malnourished but otherwise quite well, except for the fact that he seemed unable to use his right front paw and leg, the appendage having been caught for too long with blood flow cut off, rendering it useless and mostly dead weight. 

Yet, even if they had suspected as much, the vet’s stark, unconcerned manner had Emma’s eyes immediately welling up, tears starting quickly with empathy, while Killian went tensely still and quiet beside her, his only motion to reach out and caress the kitten’s striped head in comfort. The vet went on to caution them that there was simply too much risk of infection and swelling, artery blockage or gangrene. It simply wasn’t viable to leave the leg. But he didn’t seem to realize what dangerous ground he was treading on when he suggested that the animal could be put down painlessly at little cost to them rather than their needing to take in a maimed stray and force it to live life on only three legs, until the sheriff’s eyes flashed a venomous, angry emerald at him when she gathered the cat to her chest protectively.

“And just what makes you think we wouldn’t care for a cat with a few more needs?”she challenged hotly, letting Dr. Terrence Doolittle know just how seriously he had stuck his foot into his mouth. “I don’t recall asking if you thought he was worth saving, or even what you thought we should do - just what he needed.”

The Savior was practically vibrating in her indignation, looking as though she might not even turn what was clearly their new pet over to him again to perform the necessary operation. He remembered belatedly just how powerful a magic wielder she was, as well as the upholder of the law in Storybrooke, and found himself hoping he wouldn’t end up a newt or a lawn statue before he could apologize and insist he had meant no offense. Before any of that could happen though, her husband gently took the kitten from Sheriff Swan - as it had begun to squirm and mew uncomfortably at her distressed and tightening hold. A gently staying touch of his namesake brushed back her hair in what was clearly a familiar and soothing gesture, and the sight of the steely appendage suddenly made the cause of her ire all too clear.

Emma Swan visibly calmed at her husband’s caress, blowing out a harsh breath and stepping back before she answered in a tersely clipped but more collected voice, “If the amputation is needed, then please just do it. Whatever he needs to be as comfortable and healthy as possible. We’ll take care of him from there, alright?”

“Yes, Sheriff, of course,” the man agreed readily, nodding with vigor. Adding as direct a look at both of them as he dared, he added in stuttered uncertainty, “and my apologies for my earlier callousness. I meant no offense.”

While Emma merely huffed a sort of noncommittal sound in her throat, bobbing her head in a bare nod of acceptance, Killian Jones, took him by complete surprise when he kindly replied, “Apology accepted, mate. I understood that your intention bore no malice.”

But if Sheriff Swan stuffed their newest family member with salmon, the priciest treats, and as much catnip as he could stand the next evening when the newly dubbed Maelstrom returned home to stay, and cuddled and spoiled him within an inch of his life every day afterwards, well, she would challenge anyone to blame her. It wasn’t long before the well-fed and cared for cat sported a sleek, silky, long-haired and dark-striped coat and looked quite the handsomest feline in the neighborhood following right behind Emma anywhere she went in the house and yard like a contented little shadow. His rapid, balanced hopping gait didn’t seem to trouble him or slow him down in the slightest as time went on; for all intents and purposes, their little Maelstrom was every bit as agile, curious, and playfully quick as any four-legged cat.

*****~~~******~~~*****

When trick-or-treating season came around once more, and Emma’s stomach had at last begun to round with a babe of their own, Killian could only smile at her indulgently, his heart too full of happiness and love to gainsay or spoil her fun when she dressed their cat in a red vest and little black leather breeches of an animal costume, sewn by none other than her royal princess mother. Emma magicked her own tiny version of a hook that could be strapped around Maelstrom’s furry chest to sit where his missing leg would have been, and it was clear their cat was a rather adorable feline version of himself. 

His wife, meanwhile, sported a red stocking cap and a red and white striped T-shirt that stretched over her growing baby bump, a much more fetching version of Mr. Smee in all his traditional Disney cartoon buffoonery if Killian had ever seen one. For a moment, he was rather uncertain how to work himself in with their theme - not about to dress as his own insulting Disney likeness, nor as Pan or the crocodile. He did eventually feel a bit smug at getting the last laugh once he settled on a Victorian formal suit complete with tails, white ascot and silver-rimmed spectacles, making himself rather the most dashing Mr. Darling one could have envisioned. Emma’s mouth hung open, in fact a little breathless, as he joined her at the door. At least, that was until the shrill ringing of the doorbell broke the moment, announcing their first visitors seeking candy.

*****~~~*****~~~***

Two weeks later, two little girls, ten and twelve years old, named Sara and Anne, whom they had noticed hanging back from the rest of the group of trick-or-treaters, not seeming to be escorted by parents as the others were, but eager to come forward and get as much candy as they could hold at he and Emma’s insistence once the rest of the group had moved on, were part of their household as well. They had cooed over Maelstrom’s Captain Hook costume, giggled as he wended his way between their skinny legs, and petted him gently and admiringly.

“I’ve never had a pet,” the brunette named Sara had explained wistfully, her big doe eyes looking up to meet theirs and capturing Killian’s heart in an instant. He knew even before an official and thorough search proved that they were alone, that these two girls needed he and Emma. It seemed they had been brought over with the other Untold Story realm’s citizens, but rather than with a whole family, as most who’d even noticed them about had assumed, each had instead been separated from her parents and all alone. They had located each other at school, and found an abandoned building at the edge of town where they had managed to squat under the radar. But Emma’s stomach panged with remembered hunger and her heart beat rapidly at the fear and loneliness that would never completely fade. The two girls couldn’t have found any two other people more likely to know what they’d been through than she and Killian.

By the time Emma delivered a healthy baby girl in the early morning of a brand new year, Hope Lianna Jones had two big sisters in her family ready to greet her excitedly.

Their house was once again full of squeals and yelps as feet pounded down the stairs and peals of laughter at all sorts of odd hours. David might tease Killian about how badly outnumbered he was by women in their own little haven, but Emma could only think her prayers had been answered by their house’s fullness. The more the merrier was by now their enthusiastic motto. It was a view not held by nearly enough of the world when she and Killian were growing up on their own. And they were doing their part to change that - one kid and one animal at a time.

**Author’s Note: You might have noticed that I strove to find literary/legendary orphans to use as potential new members of Emma and Killian’s family. Oliver from Oliver Twist, Sara from A Little Princess, and Anne from Anne of Great Gables.  And thanks once again to the lovely ladies on Discord for the animal names, I couldn’t resist switching one from dog to cat here in Part Two! ;)

Tagging: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @anmylica @xsajx @lfh1226-linda @revanmeetra87 @teamhook @darkcolinodonorgasm @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @resident-of-storybrooke @thislassishooked @let-it-raines @ineffablecolors @drowned-dreamer @blowmiakisscolin @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @therooksshiningknight @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @wefoundloveunderthelight @sotangledupinit @caught-in-the-filter @justanother-unluckysoul @ilovemesomekillianjones @capnjay21​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ 

[savingthrcw]

Some helpful links so we can interact more easily: we are mutuals? GO FOR IT. Want to let me know/help me remember which characters I can throw at you? Go to the 'like if interested' post and hit the heart!

navi with wanted connections is HERE.

memes, permission to ship call (permission to have my muse interested), plotting call, reverse meme call

Muses: Kate Austen (Lost) [Open to: canon and canon div. characters I already know // crossovers: yes]: starter calls / Opens - like if interested Sarah Walker (Chuck) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]: starter calls // opens // threads - like if interested Jenny II, regenerated Doctor's daughter (Doctor Who) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes] starter calls - like if interested

Neria Surana, elf mage Hero of Ferelden / potential follower (Dragon Age) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]: starter calls / Opens - like if interested Lily Tabris, elf warrior Hero of Ferelden / potential follower (Dragon Age) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]: starter calls / Opens - like if interested Clarke Griffin (the 100, s1-s6) [Open to: a few canon and canon div. characters from the 100 // crossovers: no]: starter calls / Opens - like if interested Alien Jemma Simmons (AoS, s1-s4) [Open to: some canon and div. characters - some ocs // crossovers: yes (selectively)]: starter calls / Opens - like if interested Alex McHugh (Chuck) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: maybe]: starter calls // open // - like if interested Terra Branford (ff6) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]: starter calls // opens - like if interested

Testing: Book!Alina Starkov (Grishaverse) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no]: starter calls // interest checker Show!Alina Starkov (Shadow and Bone) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: not yet]: starter calls // like if interested

Ana Lucia Cortez (Lost) [Open to: a few Lost characters // crossovers: no]: starter calls // opens - like if interested Ellie Bartowski (Chuck) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: maybe]: starter calls - like if interested Shale (Dao) [Open to: some canon and div. characters - some ocs // crossovers: yes (selectively)]: starter calls - like if interested Cassandra Cillian (the Librarians) [Open to: a few canon and canon div. characters // crossovers: no]: starter calls - like if interested Tauriel (The Hobbit) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: not yet]: starter calls - like if interested

Under request (I won't answer your open starters with them unless given permission!) Ellana Lavellan, elf mage / inquisitor, never follower (DAI) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no] - starter calls // threads - like if interested Solona Amell, human mage (??) Eldritch horror / hero or follower (DAO) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no] - starter calls // threads - like if interested Emma Swan (OUAT) [open to: Killian, Snow and David // crossovers: no]: starter calls -like if interested

[gch1995]

I see you liking all my old OUaT and Rumbelle content and it's really validating to know people are still mad at A&E for destroying my dreams

LOL! You should see my posts here that I made about why OUAT became an enduring legacy, and my comment on the “Does anyone here support Rumbelle?” post. This show is such a legacy because it showed all of us in the fandom mostly how to not completely fuck up and waste potential for amazing characters, relationships, and storylines with absurd, biased, cliched, inconsistent, ableist, classist, sexist, homophobic, misogynistic, racist, cheaply shocking, contrived, inconsistent, hypocritical, gross, repetitive, and stupid characterizations, twists, storylines, and tropes. The main cast, and the fact that the fans did OUAT far better is why this show ultimately became such an enduring legacy.

As for Rumple, Belle, and Rumbelle, I’ll always love them, both individually and as a couple, as they were originally characterized and written from S1-S3 of the show, in canon-divergent/AU fanfic scenarios, and in my imagination and headcanons as the characters and couple they could have and should have been and remained on the show.

However, I don’t support any of the cheaply shocking, contrived, wildly inconsistent, wildly flanderdized, and wildly ooc cartoonishly evil, exceedingly cruel, exceedingly conniving, exceedingly deceptive, exceedingly distrustful, exceedingly manipulative, exceedingly desperate, exceedingly hypocritical, exceedingly self-righteous, exceedingly selfish, exceedingly reckless, exceedingly self-sabotaging, exceedingly single-minded, and ridiculously oblivious and gullible plot-driven behaviors, reactions, and mischaracterizations for either one of them on-and-off-again in the piss poor excuse for canon that OUAT devolved into after the first two-and-a-half to three ish seasons, either individually or as a couple. Really, the absurd, cheaply shocking, contrived, inconsistent, flanderdized, and ooc melodramatic toxicity and stupidity was on both sides of their relationship pretty badly in regards to each other from late 3B-S6 on-and-off-again, so I’m not going to take sides.

I don’t support the increasingly contrived, unfair, and ridiculous nature of Rumple’s regressions on this show in canon the longer it went on on-and-off-again, starting in 2B.

I just refuse to hold any of it against either of the individual characters or their relationship together. I refuse to let it ruin my enjoyment of the individual characters and the pairing because I still cherish bittersweet, beautiful, relatable, and complex Rumbelle we originally got from S1-S3, and me, and the Rumbelle fandom stick to that version in our headcanons and canon-divergent/AU fanfic. Also so many of the shitty and stupid ways in which they reacted to each other in later seasons in canon was due to cheaply shocking, horrifically, inconsistently, illogically, and wildly OOC badly written mischaracterizations and extremes they were forced to through being driven by Kitsowitz and these writers increasingly blatant favoritism of Hook/CS, hypocrisy, and their increasingly absurd, cheaply shocking, and contrived twists, magical macguffins, prophecies, and twists in the plot with little to no consistent, organic, logical, or relatable lead up. It was just for the sake of shock value, creator pet propping, and repetitive storytelling, so it wasn’t even worth hating on either of the characters or the couple for any of it. Much of their wildly ooc shittiness and stupidity didn’t make any sort of consistent, relatable, or organic sense post S3 ish.

I could understand hating on the characters for becoming shitty, illogical, and unsympathetic people if characterization, development, or regression in canon OUAT made any sort of consistent, gradual, organic, and relatable sense that made hating them for it feel well-earned. However, there had been less and less consistency and credibility of characterization, development, regression, and storytelling in OUAT for these characters and relationships, starting in 2B, and after 3A, it just went completely off the rails into unforgivably bad territory because they killed off their core theme of family with Neal, broke their own rules of not being able to resurrect the dead by bringing back Rumple, reframed the narrative (and most of the remaining main cast’s original characterizations) around Hook/CS, retconned the characters previously established development, and derailed everyone in increasingly awful, cheaply shocking, and ridiculous ways to rerail them all over again full circle back to the development they achieved at the end of the Neverland arc.

The characters went between being characterized as good to evil, evil to good, sympathetic to unsympathetic, kind to cruel, cruel to kind, intelligent to stupid, trusting to distrusting, distrusting to trusting, forgiving to unforgiving, unforgiving to forgiving, sane to batshit insane, batshit insane to sane again, and so on in the blink of an eye based off of whatever the writers wanted for them to be to fit their absurd, biased, cheaply shocking and contrived plots and twists as every season passed. By the time we got to the end of 5A, they often weren’t even bothering to stay consistent with most of the characters characterizations and motivations throughout a single episode, particularly not with Emma, Hook, Rumple, and Belle who were part of all this cheaply shocking, contrived, toxic, and silly magical soap opera romantic melodrama. They were definitely the characters who it was most difficult for me to get a clear grasp on because of this, though everyone’s characterizations and motivations were often baffling and confusing to me, which is why I finally quit watching after S5.

I love the original Rumple who was deeply loving, and the original Rumple who was learning to respect Belle’s wishes, make compromises and always allowing her personal space when she wanted it. I love the original Rumple who was learning to be honest with Belle. I love the original Rumple who would never ever recklessly threaten to physically harm Belle for personal gain with magic, not even in a panic. I love the original Rumple who cried when Belle asked him out for a hamburger date, and the original Rumple who adorkably flirted with her by joking with her about ketchup.

I love the original Rumple who had an actual storyline with a consistent motivation in trying to make amends with his loved ones, particularly Bae, rather than the one of later seasons who seemed more motivated by excessive self-interest, recklessness, and desperation, no matter the cost, that came out of nowhere whenever some absurd and contrived magical macguffin and/or cruel twist of fate with magic came out of nowhere to tempt him back to the dark side again.

I love the original Rumple who was clearly and consistently framed and written as sympathetic in the narrative, in spite of his flaws, and on a clear path towards redemption, while also not being whitewashed or excused for most of his crimes and/or bad choices from S1-S3, and in canon-divergent/AU headcanon and fanon scenarios.

I love the original Belle of OUAT from “Skin Deep” to S3 and in canon-divergent/AU headcanon and fanon scenarios who was brave, compassionate, intelligent, independent, and perceptive. I love the original Belle, who saw people for who they really were, and who refused to take anyone’s shit, not just Rumple’s. I love the original Belle who was a genuinely good person who generally practiced the beliefs and morals she preached about to other people, rather than contradicting them herself whenever it was convenient for her, only to mercilessly and self-righteously condemn and vilify Rumple for so much as considering not doing the same with little to no self-awareness in regards to her own hypocritical toxicity.

I loved the original Belle who wasn’t glorified in the narrative for giving Rumple ultimatums to do what she said in order for them to be together, but who actually had to realize that, while she couldn’t and shouldn’t just sit back and enable Rumple’s bad choices and stay with him, no matter what he did, she also couldn’t treat their relationship status together as a biscuit on a string held above his head as reward that she was willing to snatch away when he didn’t comply in order to force him to be good. I love the original Belle who had values of heroism that were actually based off of who she was at her core, a brave, kind, open-minded, empathetic, perceptive, intuitive, and intelligent young woman, who valued free choice, empathy, and mercy, rather than the Belle who’s “heroism” became more about a shallow desire to emulate caricatures from archaic fairytales about knight defeating dark sorcerers and rescuing people, and a desire to fit in with “the cool kids of Storybrooke” by being exceedingly anti-Rumple, no matter what he did, right or wrong.

I love the original Belle who treated everyone fairly, including Rumple, even if it meant she didn’t get to fit in with the cool kids of Storybrooke by not being anti-Rumple to the point of excessive cruelty and refusing to engage with him in later seasons, even when he did try to reach out to her honestly, kindly, gently, and make healthy compromises. Recklessly endangering Rumple’s life by forcibly exiling him out of town with nothing was really the height of this character assassination in her in canon. Rumple deserved to be dumped for deceiving Belle. Belle had no choice but to use the dagger to stop him from being shady and killing Hook when she caught him red-handed.

However, Rumple did not deserve to have his life recklessly endangered by his true love forcibly exiling him from their home with nothing forever, especially because it didn’t really even seem like Belle cared all that much about the town’s safety when she made that choice, anyway. It was more that she was pissed that he lied, and misguidedly believed that he loved power more than her. He could have died because she left him with nothing out in the middle of nowhere. He almost did die because she left him with nothing out in the middle of nowhere. In real life, this could/would be a charge against her for at least a misdemeanor of DV, and at worst, a felony of involuntary manslaughter, if he actually did die because she recklessly endangered his life by forcibly exiling him with nothing. Yet, she didn’t even seem to feel that bad about it at all.

That to me, was a horrible character assassination in canon of Belle in 4A when she never had to deal with any sort of negative repercussions for it with Rumple calling her out as wrong, and/or being framed as not completely in the wrong for being distrusting of her. If she had, then I could have forgiven it, but she didn’t, so it made me dislike her in canon, and it’s one of the main reasons why I finally quit watching S5. I guess she finally got it at the end of 6A when she told Rumple “What have we done to each other?” However, too much inexplicable character assassinating damage had been done to both her and Rumple at that point in canon for me to forgive anymore. I just felt disgusted by the wildly ooc, ridiculously oblivious, and overdramatically toxic extremes Kitsowitz and their team of hacks had reduced them both to for the sake of cheap shock value, contrived Rumple villainy, repetitive storytelling, and Hook/CS propping. I was glad they got their “happy ending” and “redemption arc” in a shallow manner at the end of S6 because it was the least they deserved on this badly written clusterfuck of a fairytale show where everyone had screwed each other over terribly by being abusive, being exceedingly cruel, being exceedingly manipulative, being exceedingly deceptive, committing murder unjustifiably, committing attempted child abduction, committing attempted kidnapping, committing kidnapping, committing child abduction, recklessly endangering the lives of others needlessly, working with each other’s enemies needlessly, threatening to harm each other, and/or actually harming each other at least once now, if not multiple times, and were still getting a “happy ending” and “redemption arc, anyway, so this badly written canon Rumbelle might as well, too.

But it didn’t mean I was okay with any of the wildly ooc, cheaply shocking, contrived, horrifying, and stupid character destroying angst and twists Kitsowitz and their team of hacks had been pulling on Rumple and Belle, both individually and as a couple, for roughly three seasons from late 3B-6A. The canon Rumbelle from S4-S6 (and even S7) was mostly not the same ship that I had signed up for and latched on to so strongly, either individually or as a couple, from 1x08-S3, and I’m forever bitter that Kitsowitz and their team of hacks wasted the potential of those beautiful, bittersweet, complex, and relatable characters and their relationship together with believable flaws and strengths, so that they could keep shoehorning Rumple back into the scapegoat on-and-off-again villain plot device role after bringing him back.

I think this contrived, inorganic, and nonsensical nature of Rumple’s regressions started showing up in 2B with that “The boy will be your undoing” prophecy, but then we were still being privy to a huge chunk of his POV in the main narrative, so he came across as much more sympathetic throughout the whole thing, which made it so it didn’t feel too terribly ooc.

That little twist at that end where Rumple was suddenly attempting to murder Henry right at the end of 2B was kind of OOC because he was doing it after vowing not to do it all throughout 2B in the present day beforehand to save his own skin, particularly when he found out that he and Henry were related, and he kept having terrifying nightmares of doing it. That was the first small moment on the show where Rumple was suddenly derailed into a nearly irredeemable corner out of nowhere after being consistently portrayed as sympathetic beforehand, and it wasn’t necessary to get him to the point he was at at the end of 3A either. It was just a ooc moment to cheesily create a moment of cheaply shocking suspense in the audience of “Oh no, I thought Rumple was planning not to do this horrible thing before. What if he does this terrible thing, and can’t be redeemed anymore?...Oh, thank god someone was there to give him information that caused him to reconsider doing the cheaply shocking horrible thing right in the nick of time before he went too far, and now he’s back on the track for redemption that we previously had established he was before we threw in that twist out of nowhere to make you think he’d actually fail.”

However, I let it go back then because not wanting to die and lose the chance of being with his son again is a sympathetic motive for committing attempted murder of someone, even an innocent, and even if the reasoning behind why is kind of bizarre, for plot reasons, and he did get back on the right track again a moment later after being told Bae was “dead”. Aside from that one wildly ooc moment at the last minute of 2B, though, Rumple had pretty clearly shown that he did not want to kill Henry, felt terrified about doing it, and then he went right back on track a minute later and decided not to do it when Snowing told him that Bae was “dead,” which ultimately culminated in him selflessly sacrificing his life to save Henry, Bae, Belle, and the rest of the town. Rumple’s character should have just stayed dead after that because, in spite of a few flaws here and there in the writing, it was a pretty relatively consistent, organic, beautiful, and well-earned arc, and there really wasn’t anywhere else to go up with him after having him do that, anyway.

Also, the Lacey twist was the first small instance contrived twist that took away Belle’s original sympathetic and intelligent characterization and agency in story that should have been about both her and Rumple, so that they could make Rumple look somewhat distrust-worthy and shady when he was forced to be somewhat dark/morally ambiguous to get Lacey’s attention to protect Belle from herself when he couldn’t get through to her by being the best version of himself that she fell in love with, and didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t get too worked up about it back then because it had only happened once, but yeah, I didn’t like the dubious consent issues that the whole Lacey/Belle twist created, or the fact that Belle’s agency was suddenly taken away to make Rumple look kind of shady. I didn’t like the fact that Belle was made to be uncharacteristically stupid and unsympathetic, so that they could use her as a plot device that put Rumple in a position where he felt either tempted and/or forced to be shady again.

I’ve seen canon-divergent/AU stories of Rumple’s resurrection and ultimate redemption stories done really well by the far superior creative writers in the Dearie/Rumbelle fandom, particularly by @toseehowthestoryends. But Kitsowitz and their team of writers lacked the desire and the skill to pull it off. They weren’t ultimately interested in writing consistent, organic, and relatable characterization development, or human reactions in their characters. They picked favorites. They kept shoehorning characters into “hero” and “villain” slots, even after all of these characters had become pretty inexcusably toxic to each other in one way or another, and either didn’t recognize and/or didn’t care to recognize, their own hypocrisy. They relied too hard on cheap shock value and contrived magical twists and macguffins to drive their story, even if it meant they felt they had to sacrifice their characters credibility and integrity.

Frankly, the entire show should have just ended altogether after the Neverland arc because that was clearly all the story for growth they had planned out ahead of time for Emma, Snow, David, Regina, Rumple, Henry, and even Hook, their favorite, too, anyway.

After that arc, Bae’s death, Rumple’s resurrection, and the promotion of Hook to the main lead, the Aesop’s Amnesia trope kept hitting all of these remaining main characters in increasingly cheaply shocking, contrived, wildly ooc, painful, flanderdized, ridiculous, and unsympathetic ways in order to force them to relearn the same lessons they already had learned to grow past relatively consistently, dynamically, and sympathetically throughout S1-3A. They brought the show back after they ran out of story, killed off their core theme of family with Neal, resurrected Rumple from the best done two-and-a-half season redemption arc to demonize him on-and-off-again as a foil for “hero” Hook, set up Hook as the romantic lead for Emma, ruined Emma for Hook, and derailed all of their remaining main characters to re-rail them over and over and over and over again.

The only one who remained mostly consistent, normal, and in-character post S3 was Regina, and even she was getting the character derailing Aesop’s Amnesia trope and idiot ball throughout S4-S6 sometimes in trying to find magical solutions to artificially absolve herself of her guilt from her past crimes, such as searching for the author in S4, and using the shears to split off her dark side in 5B and 6A. Just why? I get that you feel guilty about the crimes you committed Regina, but you’ve gained Henry, Emma, the Charmings, and the rest of the town’s forgiveness and acceptance by trying to be better before. Just keep trying to be better, take ownership of the crimes you’ve made in the past, admit that you were wrong, and move on by being content with the happy ending and redemption with the family you’ve always wanted earned here in the present day now, rather than needlessly and stupidly self-sabotaging by seeking out magical solutions to artificially absolve your guilt. If it’s really that hard for you to move on from the past by accepting personal accountability for your crimes, then I would recommend going to see Archie for therapy again to talk about, but don’t stupidly sabotage the good things you already have earned here and now with Henry and the Charmings acceptance and forgiveness to try to artificially absolve yourself of your guilt with magic.

Otherwise, Regina got her crimes whitewashed, she never really had any sort of resolution to the dumb choices with magic she made, and her character just fell flat after the Neverland arc because she never really learned anything new or grew any further after her attempted selfless sacrifice in 2B to save Henry and the town, and her selfless choice to let Henry go with Emma to save him at the end of “Going Home,” in spite of his memories getting erased of her in process once he crossed the town line. Regina never became the outright evil cartoon villain she was back in S1 whenever she backslid post S3, which is more than I can say for the writing of the other main villains on this show in canon whenever they regressed post S3, but she was still kind of falling back into old patterns and storylines with the Aesop’s Amnesia and idiot ball bad writing tropes in order to force her to relearn lessons that she already had back in S2-3A.

There was a particularly painful egregiousness to the character assassinations of Rumple, Belle, and Emma to prop up Hook/CS, though. Rumple was the only other morally gray male anti-villain on the show, and a huge part of Hook’s original introduction on the show was due to the fact that Rumple was the villain in his story when he killed Milah in an impulsive rage over her leaving Bae. Because they were lazy terrible writers, who didn’t want to put in any sort of effort to actually taking the time to believably and organically develop Hook into a redemptive anti-villain/antihero in his own right, Kitsowitz and these writers resorted to inorganically forcing the character to be the “redeemed” antiheroic main lead by setting him up in a contrived, creepy, and wildly ooc cheap Rumbelle rip-off romance with their main lead heroine (Emma Swan) that enabled rape culture and toxic masculinity in Hook’s aggressive stalker-ish pursuit of Emma, regardless of her feelings when they had her give in to his persistance, by killing off Neal to replace him with Hook, by breaking their own rules to bring Rumple back from the most consistently sympathetic, relatable, and well-earned two-and-a-half to three season redemption arc, so they could reduce him to an on-and-off-again demonized foil for “hero” Hook, by turning Emma into a codependent, cruel, violent, hypocritical, and selfish bitch to make Hook look better, by reducing Rumbelle to the problem couple of OUAT, both individually and as a couple, and by making Emma, Belle, Snow, David, and even Henry to be his enablers.

However, even Hook’s character was assassinated pretty badly in 5A when he had that heel-face turn into a flanderdized cartoon sociopath out of nowhere after he found out Emma brought him back as a Dark One against his wishes when he came up with that plan to get vengeance on her by killing her friends and family through attempting to send them all to the UW, and even after he was “redeemed” afterwards it felt lazy and unbelievable because all he did was clean up his own mess by deciding not to kill everyone at the last second, and afterwards, he was still reverting back to making old bad choices of seeking vengeance on Rumple, lying to Emma, and, at worst, continuing to be romanticized and whitewashed for still being a dick in his spare time whenever he found a good excuse to revert again, anyway, which had been the case since S4.

Tl;dr The show should have just ended with the Neverland arc. The problems in the writing that were already starting to show up enough as it already was throughout S1-3A were proof enough that Kitsowitz and these writers couldn’t handle more than two-and-a-half seasons of relatively consistent, dynamic, and satisfying characterization and growth because after that it fell into a deep, dark, and inescapable abyss of character destroying and repetitive bad writing that not even the sentiments of shallow “happy endings” and “redemption” arcs could make up for in the end.

[j-philly-b]

OUaT 7x02 – Thoughts & Observations

“I’ll send an SOS to the world; I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle.”

           - The Police, Message in a Bottle

Ugh, seriously? We’re back to this bullshit? I thought we were done with the realm that shall not be named. But no, instead we’re going to be reminded of it on a weekly basis. Or at least I will be, because my anger over that entire plotline is unflagging.

But I am talented in unhealthy avoidance techniques, and will likely continue on because (1) I am a glutton for punishment, (e) Colin O’Donoghue’s face, and (!) I can’t stop myself from trying to puzzle this show out. Hi, my name is Joanne and I can’t get OUaT.

 Random Thoughts:

I was not prepared to say goodbye to Killian Jones, he of the multiple redemption and hero arcs. It was that and the high expectations I had for a story written by Jane and Jerome that left me in a pit of despair after the episode was over. I’ve gone through my stages of grief, I am almost at acceptance, almost.

I am relieved that CS have their happy ending/beginning together in SB. While I’m in the they don’t need a baby to be happy camp, it’s a fine development and everyone’s fic with a CS kid post-S6 is perfectly valid and canon compliant. So there’s that!

I know that many viewers, including myself, took Emma and Killian’s concern as an implication that they had a difficult time conceiving, maybe even suffering a miscarriage at some point. I’m going to go the lighter route and assume that Killian’s penchant for leather pants and skinny jeans slowed down the baby making process, which is why we saw him show up in the alt!EF in regular blue jeans.

I loved how Killian jumped into action and was instantly stabby as soon as he and Regina showed up in response to Henry’s call. Struck me as a very strong parental instinct to go on the offensive like that when you get a distress call from your kid.

Emma tells Henry that she has to give Henry what he gave her – family, and she starts by giving him Hook 2. Then Henry keeps Regina – and no one in SB is complaining because obviously Regina has absolutely nothing in SB and can walk away on a whim, what else do you do with a middle-aged woman with no spouse or child to look after?

I’m bitter because I can’t believe A&E or J&J put me in a position to feel defensive over Regina.

Interesting that being in the alt!EF meant that Regina and Emma’s magic wouldn’t work. But here’s the thing, Regina’s use of magic in the beginning showed us two things – her magic worked when she was protecting her TL, but didn’t work when she was to cast a locator spell. Subtle foreshadowing of what was to come later with Emma and Hook 2.

 Hook 2 using Killian’s blood to become him may have created a deeper connection than simply surface appearance. So not only was Emma able to connect to him by recognizing the man he could be, used to be, but maybe whatever it is that makes TL a physical manifestation was also able to recognize something in Hook 2 because of that blood connection? I’m not being clear, but I think this blood connection and TL is going to come up again for Hook 2 and his daughter. I am really leaning toward the daughter being created using some form of blood magic.

So Hook 2 has a daughter and now we’re going to be following his story. In a way, it makes sense, it allows CS peace and to continue living their happily ever after without unnecessary angst and separation. I just don’t know if I feel as invested in Hook 2 as I was in Killian Jones.

I had work it out in my head when Hook 2’s path diverged from Killian. I’m going with the wish realm diverging at the point of the flashbacks in the Cricket Game – in the wish realm Snow’s attempt to banish Regina worked, and she was no longer a threat to them from that point on. Therefore, Hook 2 never sang with Snowing and did not kill his father to leave Liam 2.0 an orphan out for revenge.

“I’ve always tried to do good.” Where did that come from with Hook 2? Did he turn around when his daughter was born? Was that his “you can be a part of something” moment?

I’m assuming his fall back into darkness was when his heart was poisoned/cursed and he was stopped from seeing his daughter. I’m just… ARGH!!! Another Hook redemption arc? Yeah, I’m still not quite over it yet.

Hook 2 roaming the realms looking for TL to cure his poisoned/cursed heart and then trying to use Killian’s connection with Emma for that purpose tells us what? That Hook 2 thought himself incapable of TL, and maybe now feels guilty that he didn’t try hard enough or believe in himself enough to save his daughter? That now that he has his second chance he will fulfill his role as his daughter’s white knight?

I like the carry through to HH and seeing that Rogers does not like hearing Henry’s daughter referred to as a vulnerability.

Roger’s curse memories of Emma are not too far afield from the truth. Their cursed personalities aren’t too far off from their true-selves either. Very unlike Regina’s curse when she tried to suppress people’s true selves. We’ve seen how Jacinda isn’t afraid to push back against Victoria, how Rogers, Regina, and Henry were able to come together easily, and how Rumple is on the periphery of that as well. So was the curse cast for evil intent or not?

Ok, so I think I called it last week with Weaver being the one to get Rogers promoted and reassigned to him. I’m sticking with my theory that Rumple knows what is going on and is more involved in the curse than we think at this point. It was more heavy-handed in this episode, mainly because there was more Weaver in this episode, but I’m fine with a Rumple that plays on both sides of the fence. I’m wondering if Weaver’s relationship with Victoria is a case of keeping your enemies close?

Interesting that Weaver was not included in the final scene with Roni, Rogers, and Henry.

 Also interesting that Weaver doesn’t push Roni when she says no, not the tactic we’ve been lead to believe he usually follows.

The shot of Weaver and Rogers from behind the bookcase in Henry’s apartment was great. The view of them was slightly obscured, Rogers is in the light, Weaver is in the dark. I like how it framed their characters at that point in time.

 The matching denim jackets of Rogers and Weaver, was there a Starsky & Hutch in the alt!EF?

So Weaver was testing Rogers’ moral core, why?

 Hook 2 is very good at strategizing, probably all the chess, but Rogers was way ahead of Weaver when he thought to grab Henry’s keys before they left the apartment. Not a surprise that Rogers has a healthy distrust of Weaver and can look out for himself.

 Random Observations:

Why are there no evil Kermit memes with Hook 2 in the hood confronting Killian?

Captain Youthful!

I also liked Killian referring to Hook 2 and his existence in the realm to be ignored as a bad dream, not real, a cracked mirror, and a twisted version of the truth.

Why do LT and Tiana jump to Henry being in love with Cinderella/Jacinda? They’ve known each other a total of ten minutes.

THE HAND!!!

Henry is a total hipster.

“I gotta hop.” “You must have a fairy godmother somewhere.” Tiana gets all the good lines.

Lady Tremaine uses that wand a helluva a lot for someone who doesn’t rely on magic.

Ok, but what did Gabrielle’s teenage daughter think about her mother getting all up in Colin’s face like that?

Tune in next week when Weave tests out his Welsh accent!

The Nancy Drews! Even before Weaver pulled the book off the shelf, I knew what they were by the yellow binding. My dad bought me one a week for a little over a year when I was kid. I’m getting teary just thinking about it…

Henry looking for buried family and “keeps hitting dead ends”? Yeesh

Ivy wearing a green shirt with fleur de lis in her first scene with Jacinda – green for a reason?

Jacinda can save herself. We get it, we’ve also heard it before.

How exactly did Hook 2 wind up stabbed?

Emma does have a little bit of a bump when they’re sitting on that log.

Why is Killian so angry when he throws that bean? Does he know Emma has terrible aim when it comes to portals and he’s worried she might run on the wrong side of it?

Henry creeping on Cinderella’s bedroom.

Of course Killian has another magical method of communication. Shellphones, messages in a bottle, does he keep a coop for talking seagulls on the Jolly Roger as well, enchanted semaphore flags?

Ok, Killian and Regina discussing Emma was about 10x more overdramatic than it needed to be.

Emma is “the mother [Henry] wanted, a hero.”  That’s gotta be a kick in the gut to Regina.

God damnit Henry, operation glass slipper is still going on and now you’re staring operation next chapter? Get your shit together kid.

Colin wetn super-irish at the end when Rogers was telling his story to Henry, yes?

Were the hair extensions for Emma totally unnecessary? Or are saviors like Samson and lose their power if they get a haircut? Wait, is that why Rumple got a haircut at the beginning of s6? It was a hint that he was a powerless savior?! AHA! I’ve cracked the code!! Sorry, there are certain storylines I will never not be bitter about

Why is Tilda Swinton doing adverts for Lyft? Someone write an androgynous preternatural character for that woman stat! Speaking of, I need to rewatch Orlando, it’s been way too long…

[coaldustcanary]

2016 Fanfic Masterpost

I’ve seen some posts from folks I follow in a number of different fandoms doing a bit of an end-of-the-year writing roundup, and I really like that idea, so here we are. 

I’ve been fannish for a long time now - over 20 years at this point, which is more than a little terrifying to consider, let me tell you. But my fannish writing has been very intermittent over those years for the most part, and my participation in fandom was relatively narrow, particularly when I was working on my PhD. Through 2014 I wrote, on average, one fanwork a year for the previous 5 years, as usually I could be counted upon to participate in at least one A Song of Ice and Fire and/or Game of Thrones fanfic exchange, but not much beyond that. I also wrote a smattering of fic prior to 2009, much of it lost to the ages besides some random pieces I managed to get up on AO3. (I really need to take some time to go back and properly back-date those older works, oof. And dig up a few more on LJ communities that I couldn’t find when I did my original looking, if I can.)

But in the past year and a half or so I’ve come back to fandom in a much more enthusiastic way than I have since I was a teenager, thanks to falling hard for the Dragon Age games and then faceplanting into Once Upon a Time fandom. And in the past seven months I’ve written if not a lot of fic, definitely more than I have in a long, long time. It’s been a trip, in both good and bad ways, but I’m glad to be doing it.

The master list in chronological order with brief commentary:

Always Already (Dragon Age: Inquisition) Incomplete Planned eventual M rating, nothing above T in the current chapter tumblr link, AO3 link, 6025 words The Academic Conference AU that started it all this summer. I just could not let this headcanon go until I wrote this first chapter. I haven’t touched it since then for a variety of reasons, but even if I never get back to it I’m pleased with the chapter that exists and it got me back writing. It’s meant to be a massive DA:I ensemble AU, with this particular multi-chapter story involving some eventual Female Trevelyan/Cullen Rutherford, but mostly I just want to finish this particular arc so I can just write snippets in the AU every time I need to say something cathartic about working at a university.

Hunger (Dragon Age: Origins) Rated G, Gen, Alistair & Female Brosca friendship tumblr link, AO3 link, 1835 words A short, introspective piece about one of my Dragon Age OCs. When you grow up without enough food, hungry all the time, what happens when the effects of blood magic make you even hungrier? Natia thinks about her life and her choices and finds common ground with her fellow Grey Warden.

Before a Fall (Game of Thrones) Mature, Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, GoT 6x09 post-ep scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 2698 words Written for the Game of Ships Seven Hells Challenge based off of the prompt “Pride”. I watched 6x09 on the Sunday night when it aired and swooned over Yara and Dany’s interaction. I wrote this intimate encounter the following Monday evening in one sitting. I ship Iron Dragon so very, very much. This fic took only about a month to become my most commented and kudosed fic ever on AO3, and I’m pretty happy with it.

Savior Fair - Princess (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Captain Swan tumblr link, AO3 link, 2501 words My first OUAT fic, based on the August 2016 OUAT positivity challenge that tlynnwords put together. (I put all my pieces for this in a single work on AO3 called Savior Fair, since they’re Emma-centric.) Fluffy CS pillow talk set post-S5 before I’d much looked at S6 spoilers. I like this fic’s premise and flow, but I totally missed the mark with Emma’s voice in it. Her voice is tough for me, but I think I’m getting better.

Savior Fair - Smile (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, SwanFire tumblr link, AO3 link, 938 words My goal with the OUAT positivity fics was to focus on the best parts of Emma’s relationships with other characters. I think Neal is a fascinating character (and though I don’t ship SF, I’ve been a fan of Michael Raymond-James for a long time and I think he brings a lot of interesting nuance to the guy) and I think a lot about the time they spent together and what it would have meant to 17 year old Emma to have someone smile at her and mean it.

Savior Fair - Heart (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Captain Swan, 4x12 missing scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 1274 words I needed a scene to bridge the gap between the conclusion to the showdown in the clock tower and Emma replacing Killian’s heart in his chest. Just a little feels-laden ficlet. (Apparently the original script had a line in the latter scene with Emma saying she felt strange holding his heart, and Killian replying that she’s already held it for ages, though I didn’t know that until after I wrote this bit, and it tends in a similar direction.)

Savior Fair - Trust (Once Upon a Time) Rated T, Emma & Milah, 5x14 missing scene tumblr link, AO3 link, 1647 words The last of the positivity prompts I got to (August is a tough time with the semester beginning, so much for my ambitions) and the one of which I’m the most proud. I have A Lot of Feelings about Milah and the way she’s treated in a many corners of OUAT fandom, and I’m still really mad about 5x14. Emma and Milah needed more time to talk. So they mostly talk about what they have in common. (And, honestly, Killian is only a small part of their similarities.) I am certain they would be friends, given the chance.

Steadfast (A Song of Ice and Fire) Rated T, Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth, canon divergence/future fic AO3 link, 4071 words I did three fanfiction exchanges due in September this year, and I wrote this fic for thedevilchicken for the Game of Thrones exchange. Despite the name, this one is open to both book-verse and show-verse fics, and this one is an AU of the former. For some reason I seem to really like writing Stannis-as-king future AUs with a Davos POV, and nothing says Stannis/Davos loyalty than a retelling of a shockingly sad Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale about a broken toy that is loyal to his distant and unattainable love until he’s melted into scrap. (Spoiler alert: This version has a happier ending.)

Distracted (Dragon Age) Explicit, Anders/Karl Thekla AO3 link, 3094 words Smutty roleplaying with spanking written for green_sphynx for The Black Emporium, a Dragon Age rarepair exchange. Playful and porny PWP set sometime well before everything was terrible in Dragon Age 2.

Starstruck (Agent Carter/Doctor Who) Rated G, Gen, Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, Peggy Carter & Angie Martinelli tumblr link, AO3 link,  3425 words Written for Grey_Cardinal for the Crossovering exchange. Ten and Donna cause a bit of a scene at the restaurant where Angie works. I quite like the premise of this fic and it was fun to write, though I really ought to have come up with more for Peggy to do in it.

Spectator Sport (Once Upon a Time) Rated G, Gen, Hooked Queen friendship, future fic tumblr link, AO3 link, 1063 words After having a really crummy day a few months back, I asked for some fic prompts (pairings and a word/idea) to take my mind off it and my lovely friends delivered. This is just a little vague future fic based on mryddinwilt’s prompt for Hooked Queen + parenting. However much they viciously snark at one another, I think they understand one another pretty well, too. And the mental image of them enduring discomfort to watch Henry’s high school soccer game was too good to pass up.

Wrapping (Game of Thrones) Rated T,  Yara Greyjoy/Daenerys Targaryen, University AU tumblr link, AO3 link, 1379 words Written for the Game of Ships “Until Hell Freezes Over” holiday/winter-themed event. I’m actually the advisor for a service learning club at my university, and those valiant students get run ragged as they try to finish up the term and also do good for their communities. Somehow I imagine that Dany would be that kind of overachiever, and Yara would just as clearly be her dubious but devoted girlfriend. I’ve been leery before of writing student AUs because I’m a teacher and it feels a bit odd, but I liked this AU a lot and might come back to it for writing more Iron Dragon because I’m sure canon is going to be a shit-show next season.

Clarity (Lucifer) Rated T, Gen, Linda Martin & Mazikeen friendship, 2x07 missing scene AO3 link, 2785 words I participated in Yuletide for the first time this year (yes, I know, I’ve somehow been in fandom for-freaking-ever and never done it before) and I matched on one of my newish fandom delights, Lucifer. Though this fandom is growing and probably won’t be eligible next year, sign-ups were before most of the season had aired, and my recipient, Lenore, requested Linda and Maze having a conversation about Heaven and Hell. Well, without getting too deep in to spoiler territory, canon pretty definitively implied that such a conversation occurred sometime between 2x07 and 2x08, so I decided it needed writing. Linda is my favorite character on Lucifer, and Maze is an utter gift. Writing this was a bit stressful (I was making last-minute edits the night before reveals from a hotel room) but I’m happy to have written it and received some lovely comments from folks, including the recipient.

So, all told, per my AO3 stats page I wrote 32,736 words of fanfic this year, which is far more than I’ve ever written in a year before. I also am starting to get a grip on what my strengths and weaknesses are as a writer, which is pretty wild but also motivating. My general approach to writing has long been “use deadlines as motivation, panic at the last minute, write frantically, throw it at the world like a grenade and take cover” and while I’m a good enough writer for that not to be as terrible as it sounds, I know I could be a lot better if I continue to change my approach to writing and write more frequently and steadily. Honestly, because I’m an academic by trade, this applies to my professional writing as well, and fanfic is good practice for me to refine my writing habits, which have vastly improved this year, even if they’re still not where I want them to be in the end. Here’s hoping I can keep it up in 2017.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "We Gather Together (Glad for the Blessings)"

This week's rerun is another little Thanksgiving one shot, meant to be taking place somewhere at the end of Season 6. I realize that Thanksgiving was over on Thursday, but I still wanted to share the little offerings I had for this sometimes overlooked holiday. I feel like it would be a very special and important holiday for both Emma and Killian - seeing as it's so much about family and togetherness with those you love, and both of them lived without that for so long.

Anyway, this is divergent from canon due to Robin's being alive and Belle not taking Rumple back, but otherwise I think it pretty much could have happened. Hope you all had a wonderful holiday yourselves, and that you enjoy this small story to celebrate the occasion!

** Also available on AO3 or ff.net (if that's your preference)***

Summary: A bit of Thanksgiving fluff - and a lovely, quiet moment for the whole Charming-Jones-Mills family count their blessings and rejoice in how far they've come

by: @snowbellewells

Barreling into the kitchen calling out "Henry?! Killian?!", Emma Swan was already well into panic mode due to the charred, burning smell that had reached her nostrils as soon as she'd mounted the steps to the front porch and the plumes of gray smoke wafting into her vision in the entryway once she opened the door. She was skidding to a stop at the kitchen table before she realized that, though the fire alarm had been bleating raucously, there were no sounds of panic or yells of dismay. Instead, both of her True Loves were now frozen, looking to her guiltily like they’d been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Killian was bent over the open stove, and Henry had his arm outstretched, fanning the air with a hot pad. They appeared to have been happy as clams until her sudden entrance..

Clearly they weren't in any immediate danger, and Emma's posture relaxed upon seeing that the house wasn't burning down and neither her son nor her pirate was blackened to a crisp. Shaking her head at them both, she genuinely tried to look stern instead of relieved and ready to burst out laughing. Crossing her arms, she mused aloud, "Do I even want to know what the two of you are doing?"

Sighing in defeat, Killian stood to his full height, letting the oven door bang closed and not quite meeting her reproving gaze as he raked a hand through his hair. He darted a quick glance at Henry, then finally answered her question. "We were trying to help you, Swan. It seemed prudent to get started with the main course before hosting your entire family tomorrow, and the lad felt sure he could offer guidance on the proceedings."

Henry flushed as Killian gestured toward him, and shrugged sheepishly, looking up at her with big brown eyes that, though in an older face, still proved as irresistible to her as when he'd showed up on her doorstep as a ten-year-old. "I may have overestimated how closely I was watching my other mom the last time she did this."

Emma couldn't help it; her metabolism did tick up a few notches and her eyes widened in shocked dismay. "Oh no, don't tell me… Do you mean to say you guys ruined that 19 pound Butterball I had all ready in the freezer?"

Killian winced a bit at her reaction. "Come now, Lass, it isn't as if we did it on purpose. You were just saying last night how you wanted everything to be perfect, you've never been able to celebrate a real family Thanksgiving with all the trimmings before, and everything should be just right. We only wished to help you along."

Emma gave an exaggerated nod as she responded, "Ah, I see," before a knowing light slipped into her eyes while studying one and then the other to see who would crack first. "Just selfless action from the good of your hearts, was it?"

Henry nodded, pulling off a ridiculously innocent look, but Killian couldn't quite meet her gaze, peeking up at her from beneath the fringe of his dark hair and eyelashes like a poor, repentant rascal. "Well, Swan, if the truth be told, we might have become a bit distracted…"

"I thought so," she affirmed with one last quick, triumphant dip of the head.

"Yes, well," Killian hemmed and hawed adorably, and Emma was almost afraid she might bite through her lip trying not to laugh out loud. The whole kitchen mishap was already long forgiven, but watching him stutter in embarrassment like he often caused her to do was too priceless to end just yet. "Love, your boy's moving picture box sucks a man in with its programs. Are you sure it doesn't possess some sort of hypnotic magic of its own? Perhaps we should not let Henry…"

"Okay, okay, hold up," Henry broke in anxiously, not about to see his stepdad - much as he might love him - relegate him back to the Stone Age with concern over modern technology.

Emma couldn't hold back her dissolution into helpless giggles any longer, and Killian stopped short with an affronted look at the noisy interruption from both of them at once. After a few moments, Emma reined in her laughter, assured Henry he wouldn't be losing all television privileges, and turned with the both of them to survey the wreck that had been her nice, clean kitchen when she'd left that morning. "Well boys, let's see what we can salvage," she said at last.

OoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

In the end, the turkey is magicked to golden brown perfection for the holiday meal. Emma had hoped to succeed at doing it the old fashioned way, but after seeing the damage Killian and Henry had wrought with their attempt – and though she only admitted it to herself, knowing either one of them was better in the kitchen than she was, when not unfortunately sidetracked – she decided there was no sense in further risking the main course she intended to serve to company.

She, Killian, and Henry did spend a warm, domestic, evening making the accompanying side dishes together. After placing a tray of butterhorn rolls in the oven to cook, Emma turned to see Henry flip a spoonful of cranberry sauce at Killian, hitting him square on the nose and making him jerk back in surprise at the splat of impact.

"Hey now," her pirate warned, glowering as he raised a spoonful of stuffing for a counterattack.

Emma thought idly that she should be warning them not to waste food, not to destroy their kitchen for a second time in one day, and basically chide them both to behave themselves, but instead she could merely watch as author and pirate mounted a giddy food fight she eventually joined, hugging herself tightly so she didn't simply burst with the joy swelling up inside her, so full of gratitude for both of them, for a home and family at last, and for this moment in which to enjoy it all. Thanksgiving, indeed.

That night when Henry had settled into his own room and the house had grown quiet, Emma stopped Killian as he left the bathroom after brushing his teeth, biting her lip at the all-too-inviting sight of him in dark blue lounge pants with little white anchors printed on them that he wore for sleep and all that dark hair on his toned and scarred chest. He looked upon her with a curious quirk to his brow, but didn't question her, only wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his forehead to rest against her own.

Enveloped in his warmth, Emma grew almost dizzy at the minty fresh breath he exhaled against her neck and nearly lost her train of thought altogether, but she pulled out the item she had intended to show him. It was the wishbone from their turkey, and she held it out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?"

"Aye," Killian answered, though she could tell by his expression he had no clue why she would draw his attention to it. "It's some part of that fowl we prepared for tomorrow's feast, but why…"

He trailed off when she twined the fingers of her free hand with his and brought his hand up to grip the opposite end of the wishbone from the one she held. "They're for wishing on," she explained briefly, playful mirth in her eyes. "People pull them apart and whoever gets the larger piece makes a wish that is then supposed to come true."

"Alright Lass, if you say so," he agreed gamely, a bit of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth now as well.

Holding her breath, Emma thought of all the times she had wanted to do this as a kid and had never been the one who got the wishbone. Or all the times as an adult that she'd had it, but no one in her empty apartment to hold the other end, or to appreciate the wish she'd made, nor share in her joy if it did come to fruition. As the fragile bone snapped and they looked down to the pieces in their hands, Emma and Killian found it had broken almost evenly, and so she whispered, not wanting to break the calm stillness in the room, "Let's say we both wish…together."

Killian merely nodded and closed his eyes as she did. When she opened them again, it was to meet his blue, blue gaze shining back at her. She had the feeling they'd wished for the exact same thing…many more years of holidays like this.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

The blessed feeling carried over to the family dinner the next day. Sitting at the head of the long table in the dining room of a home of her very own – hers, Henry's and Killian's – the first time she'd ever had such a thing, Emma felt as though the whole scene was bathed in some sort of golden light, like she was living inside a perfect Norman Rockwell painting. The table surface was packed, crammed, overloaded with food – from the golden brown, crisp-skinned, turkey and their perfectly toasted, flaky butterhorns to Regina's apple dumplings, green beans, noodles, mashed potatoes, stuffing, and cranberry sauce. The ten-year-old foster child inside her nearly drools at the bounty, never quite able to banish the breakfasts, lunches, and dinners missed, the times she had sat alone in some cafeteria, eyes fixed on the food other students carelessly tossed in the bins which she would have loved to have while she had been packed nothing to eat and had no money to buy even a carton of milk, of the times she had gone to bed in a rickety bunk, stomach growling and unable to stop fixating on those cabinets full of snacks that were off limits. Seeing Henry to her right, Emma ruffled his hair affectionately for just a second before he turned to grin at her proudly. He was clearly as pleased as she was that their time spent cooking the previous evening had given them this much to show for it. Moreover, she could only rejoice that he had never known the lonely, starving days she had, and the fact that neither she nor Killian ever would again.

She gave her father a nod of confirmation where he sat at the other end of the table, leading him to grin widely, the warm look of love and happiness on his face making her feel even more that this moment really was all she had been missing – all she had ever wanted – all those years she spent alone. As David stood to carve the turkey and Snow alternated between beaming up at her husband proudly and passing the plates now loaded up with juicy slices of turkey down the table, Emma squeezed Killian's hand with her left, and he cut a knowing glance at her, showing clearly that he understood and felt it too.

Beside Henry sat Belle, then Snow, and across from Henry were Regina, Robin, and Roland. It would seem that their family continued to grow and warmly open to welcome into its circle anyone with nowhere else to belong on this day meant to be spent with loved ones. As she had wished for that very thing each holiday season for 28 years, Emma could think of no better nor more heroic thing for her family to do.

Once everyone had been served – both turkey and all the other dishes filling the long table – Killian stood with raised glass, even as Emma tapped her spoon against her own to garner everyone's attention for him. "A toast, mates, if I may," Killian announced jovially in that rich, enticing voice. Emma shivered slightly at the way its tones thrilled through her, though trying to give no outward sign; she would gladly listen to him read the ingredients of the box for the stuffing, but she knew everyone else was hungry and ready to dig in, so her heart swelled just that much more when the others around their table dutifully paused and turned to listen to him with genuine interest and agreement.

"I daresay I shan't keep us from this delectable feast for long," her pirate intoned, "but I have more to be grateful for this year than I have ever possessed in my ridiculously long life, and my thanks must be offered…"

He paused, meeting the eyes of each of those gathered around the table briefly, and then continued with a fervent tone which came out sounding a bit choked with emotion. "When I first arrived in this realm, still lost in my bitterness, anger, and thirst for revenge, I could not have imagined a day like this, full of peace, love, and gratitude. Emma, Love, when you offered me the chance to join you and be a part of something, and we undertook that desperate quest to Neverland, the idea that we could come to belong to each other as we do now, that you would hold my heart in your very palm, or that I would find myself with a true family again, seemed inconceivable. Yet, I am so glad you gave me that last chance, like a line thrown in the drink to a drowning man. It saved my life, turned me back around to the man I once meant to be. My thankfulness to be here with all of you today cannot be adequately expressed." He swallowed hard, dipped his head, and then took his seat again. "You have all blessed us with your presence at our table."

"Cheers!" everyone else agreed, raising their glasses to clink with each other around the table, several other eyes misty and voices husky with feeling besides their captain's. Emma blinked quite a bit herself, glancing around at their motley crew.

Her fingers reached across to trail lightly over Killian's shoulder, stroking his back soothingly for a few moments and then rising to delve playfully into the dark hair at the nape of his neck. Brushing gently through the soft strands, Emma smiled affectionately as his head inclined slightly toward her, thinking humorously that if he were a cat, her sailor would be nearly purring in contentment right now. This moment deserved to be captured – preserved – in her mind forever; she couldn't feel any more stuffed with grateful satisfaction.

OooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooO

It was nearly midnight when the last of their guests had been seen to the door and out into the chilly dark of Storybrooke's nighttime streets. Henry had gone with Regina; they had a tradition of shopping, followed by decorating the mayor's mansion for Christmas, and then capping the evening off with homemade apple turnovers running over with icing on their day after Thanksgiving. Emma marveled at Henry's blithely forgiving ability to still eat the things with relish after nearly dying from one bit of just such a poisoned pastry also made by Regina long ago. Still, she couldn't deny she was also glad to have her pirate to herself this night – a true quiet moment for the two of them.

They were curled around each other on the couch in the living room, watching flames crackle merrily in the fireplace, feet up on the coffee table, each of them enjoying a sweet taste of leftover pumpkin pie.

"Open up, Darling," Killian urged, fork upraised to her lips with a piece of sticky filling and flaky crust adorned with the sweet white topping she loved. Emma really didn't need him to feed her, but she playfully went along with his gesture and hummed in pleasure when the flavors exploded on her tongue.

"Mhmm, really good," she mumbled, her mouth still full, but nodding her head and moving to get a piece on her own fork and return the favor for him.

Killian's deep, reverberating chuckle stopped her though, and he leaned forward just enough to wrap his lips around the tip of her nose, licking off the bit of whipped cream he'd gotten on her moments before. It was a mostly innocent gesture, but his proximity, the warmth of the near kiss, and the fact that they were truly – finally – alone, relaxed, and had nowhere else to be, had her heart hammering triple time as she sat up quickly, unfolded her legs and pulled him up with her.

"Come on, Pirate," she spoke a little breathlessly, a devilish gleam in her eyes, "we can finish this later."

It didn't take him long to catch on and follow her eagerly, still chuckling with his hand in hers, as she picked up the can of whipped cream from the coffee table where she'd placed it earlier and hurriedly pulled him upstairs.

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @stahlop @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @kazoosandfannypacks @booksteaandtoomuchtv @anmylica @bdevereaux @motherkatereloyshipper @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @spartanguard @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @winterbaby89 @jonesfandomfanatic @lfh1226-linda @bluewildcatfanatic

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: “The Sweetest Treat”

While I realize that Halloween has passed and this one is somewhat Halloween-themed, I still wanted to re-run this and next week’s story here with the Fall season. I hope you will still enjoy if you give them a read. This one is a post-season six canon divergent fic, imagining all the lovely domestic stuff we might have gotten had we seen everyone stay in Storybrooke.  Hope you enjoy!! :)

Originally, this was written as a gift for @kmomof4 on her birthday some years back, and in trying to give her the smuff she deserved, it is about as close to an M rating as I had gotten at the time; definitely a hard T, if nothing else...

Summary: After Storybrooke’s first Harvest Day Festival winds down, Emma has a sweet and sultry surpise in store for her pirate husband. 

Also can be found on AO3, if you prefer...

“The Sweetest Treat”

by: @snowbellewells  

The cider had been drunk, the campfire had burned down, and the last hayride had finished.  All of the town’s children and adults who had packed Anton’s field where the First Annual Harvest Day Festival was held had dispersed, moving toward their homes in the October night air.  Emma Swan-Jones is not far behind the rest of the satisfied revellers, pausing only briefly to make sure that her mother doesn’t need any more help securing things for the night.  Even at that, her hand doesn’t leave her husband’s, their fingers linked together warmly as he gladly follows her to speak with her mom - the newly re-elected mayor of Storybrooke.

David gives his daughter and son-in-law a warm smile as well as he hefts one more hay bale over the tailgate and into the bed of his truck, then comes to join their huddle just as Snow answers, “No, don’t worry about the rest of it.  Final clean up will keep until tomorrow when it’s light out.  Are we still meeting for brunch at Granny’s?”

Killian glances quickly over at his wife, affirming without need of words that their earlier plans are still agreeable to his lovely Swan, before answering his mother-in-law jovially. “At present, I cannot imagine my gut being able to hold anything more, Milady, but aye, we will be there.” 

The intended ruler of the Enchanted Forest, now three-time mayor of their vibrant hamlet, laughs aloud at his words, her nose crinkling as adorably as her daughter’s with the happy action - even as she swats at him in jest, shooing them both off toward home with a parting shot of, “Please! Spare me! You never look as though you gain an ounce, Sailor - despite the mass quantities of sugar I’ve watched you put away.”

 His wife disloyally guffaws so loudly at that, Killian looks down at her surprise, her cheeks flush merrily from the recent heat of the bonfires, the mulled cider spiked with rum they’ve both imbibed, and a bit of embarrassment and humor both from her outburst.

Waggling an eyebrow at her salaciously, Killian and Emma both bid her parents goodnight and turn to meander home happily. Emma leans into his side with lazily relaxed ease, and Killian wraps his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer still.  He whispers as they gain enough distance from David and Mary Margaret, “You seem in awfully good spirits tonight, Love,” his voice reverberating low and and tickling against her neck.  “Perhaps I should get you home quickly and use it to my advantage.”

 Emma merely tilts her head up to meet his seductive gaze, biting her lower lip temptingly and batting her eyes, “Mmm,” she hums in the back of her throat, “perhaps you should.”

 There is a decided increase of speed in their steps as they follow the streets toward their house by the water.  Even as they move further from the center of town, they can hear voices calling out in the night as folks bid each other good evening before parting ways and excited children begin to recount for their parents the things they’ve seen and games they’ve played.  They see Marco dutifully helping Granny gather up the luminaries which had lined the walk to the diner, Frederick taking his wife Kathryn’s hand as he cradles their little boy in his other arm where he had fallen asleep against his father’s shoulder, and with a smirking nod, Killian makes sure Emma catches a glimpse of Leroy escorting Astrid back toward the small cottage she and Tink now rent together near the school.  Together the awkward, but sweet, pair disappear around the corner and out of sight. All in all, the night has been a rousing success; all that Snow had hoped as she hatched the idea months ago and planned and prepared for the last several weeks. 

They soon reach their own front walk, and Emma’s seemingly languid and sleepy haze dissipates as they pause on the porch and Killian fishes for his key. A mischievous grin quirks her lips and trouble sparks in her eye as she leans forward to grasp the lapels of the red-orange-and-brown-checked flannel she’d bought him for the Festival and pulls him down to her anxious lips. The kiss tastes of apple and butterscotch, tinged with rum and the hint of salt from the fire-popped corn, and Killian sighs at the deliciousness of it - right in every possible way.

When they part, panting, foreheads still pressed together, Emma winks at him before prodding huskily, “Let’s get inside already before we give some stranger a show.” Pressed up against their front door as he is by her warm, delicious body, Killian is loathe to move, but his lovely wife is right. The sparks flying back and forth between them would rival the huge bonfire that had lit up the whole town square not an hour ago, and if they don’t get indoors soon, he hardly feels he should be held responsible for his actions.

“Emma love,” he purrs against the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder, nose brushing over her skin until he feels her shiver in his arms. “Do you have some mischief in mind?”

She quirks a brow in playful challenge, skirting around him quickly to pull open the door and slip inside first with a squeal of glee as he whirls trying to catch her.

 It isn’t long before he has her pinned against the wall in the entryway; kissing, mouthing, nipping along her collarbone, his tongue tracing, “Going to answer my question, yet, hmm?”

 Breathlessly, Emma pants, half in a daze, green eyes glazed over, “Nothing a sweet tooth like yours won’t enjoy,” she finally manages cryptically.

 Tilting his head curiously, Emma can see that her husband is puzzled by her words - as she meant him to be - even though he waggles his dark brows at her, smirking, “And just what is that to mean, wife?”

 “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she purrs, trailing a finger up his sternum to chuck him under the chin, then tugging at the top button of his shirt, adds, “Lose this, and wait for me in the dining room...maybe you’ll find out.”

 Grinning devilishly, pleased with herself even as the black pupils widening with arousal to overtake the blue in his eyes makes her own pulse begin to speed up and thrum unsteadily, Emma saunters away from him with intentional extra sway in her hips and a teasing glance back over her shoulder before she vanishes into the kitchen.  The way her husband visibly swallows hard, seeming completely gobsmacked, makes her plan (which is making her palms sweat with its daring) seem already worth it.

 Once in the kitchen, Emma reaches into the refrigerator for the bottle she needs, hidden behind several other items so that neither her husband or son would find it first and use it up, then setting it on the table, begins to shimmy out of her jacket, jeans and top, mouth dry with both nerves and anticipation.  Once she stands in the playful lingerie she’d picked for this very occasion - black boy shorts and a push-up bra, both with tiny candy corns and candy apples printed all over them - she blows out a tense breath, self-consciousness almost getting the better of her despite the fact that Killian has never made her feel anything less than beautiful.  Smoothing a hand over her hair, Emma focuses on the adoring look her husband only gets in his eyes for her, and biting her lip, she picks up the container and goes to find him.

 Stepping into the entryway from kitchen to dining room clutching the bottle of caramel sauce for dear life, Emma tries to strike a seductive pose, clearing her throat to gain Killian’s attention from where he stands leaning against the table, shirtless as she had instructed, but staring at his own feet, lost in thought. 

 At her entrance, his face snaps up to look at her, and his mouth drops open.  The sight of him bare chested with his weather-browned skin covered in dark hair that accentuates his toned pecs and abs before trailing down into his jeans makes her previously dry mouth practically water.  ‘ This will be fun,’ her mind cheers, even if she feels ridiculous at the moment.

 “E-Emma...wh-what are you…?” Killian stutters as he struggles to ask her what she has in mind, but she shakes her head, stalking slowly toward him, and his words trail off in stunned awe.

 Once she reaches him, Emma presses her fingers to his lips for a moment, smiling wickedly, “Just hold still, and you’ll see,” she directs, raising the bottle of sticky sweet topping to wave before his eyes, then upending it to squeeze a bit of the caramel onto her fingers before returning them to his mouth. “Here, taste.”

 Killian’s eyes are blown wide as he opens and then sucks her fingers between his lips, his tongue caressing them as well, and making her breath heave despite her attempt to hold the upper hand. “Mhmm,” he hums, hands coming to rest on her nearly bare hips and pulling her closer, until she stands between his legs and his long, calloused fingers trace around to lightly clutch at the supple cheeks of her behind.

 Seeing that she has him where she wants him, Emma holds the dispenser over his chest, squeezing more liberally to line caramel across her husband’s collarbones, and back to center, trailing it down his stomach to the waistband of his pants.  She licks her tongue along his skin after savoring the taste of the sweet sauce and a hint of the salt from the sweat that has broken out over Killian’s body. His head is flung back and his chest is already heaving by the time she brings her tongue to swirl around his nipple and adds her teeth with a playful bite.

 Letting out a guttural noise that Emma honestly isn’t sure she’s ever heard him make, Killian suddenly lunges forward and wraps her tightly in his grasp, and in the blink of an eye turns the tables on her.  She got a bit engrossed in feasting off of his decadent body and forgot just how stealthy her husband can be. Before she knows what has happened, she’s lying with her back pressed against the table, her pirate leaning over her and encasing her there between his arms.  Eyes alight, he leers down at her devilishly and works the bottle of caramel from her suddenly nerveless hand.

 “Let’s see now, Swan,” he murmurs, adeptly drizzling caramel over her ribs and into her belly button before surveying her like some half-finished piece of living art.  He slides his hook ever-so-carefully into the waistband of her festive panties before deftly slicing them and tossing the scrap away with a single flick of his wrist. “That’s much better,” he muses happily, tracing the curve of his metal appendage along the edge of her bra cup next.  “Though these articles are quite humorously arousing, I believe I was the one promised a reward for my sweet tooth and yet you were having all the fun.”

 By this point, Emma is trembling all over, every hair on her body standing at attention. Killian always manages to make her quake with desire using his hook to disrobe her, and the thrill of this different, wholly abandoned encounter is almost more than she can stand. Almost whining in eager appeal, she reaches for his waist, getting his jeans unbuttoned before he pushes her hands away. Though the jeans fall open to yield a heartstopping view, Killian doesn’t pounce on her immediately as Emma aches for him to. Instead, he shakes his head at her in mock chiding, “Ah ah ah, not so fast, wife.  Not until I’ve had my taste.”

 So saying, he trails caramel onto her inner thigh, along the joint where her leg meets her torso and then flings the bottle somewhere behind them, swooping in to devour her with his mouth. His tongue swirls around her nipples, laving and teasing as she had done to him, leaving her gasping for breath and vibrating like a live wire waiting for the final spark to set her off. His whiskered face tickles the skin of her stomach before his tongue dips into her belly button, making her hips desperately lift off of the table toward him until he pins them back down with hook and hand.

 Luckily, before she can combust into a pile of ash, he finally moves in earnest, lapping along the crease at the top of her leg where he’d traced the sweet confection. He chuckles maddeningly against her quivering skin as she tries to buck in impatience, “Yes, Swan, you were right... delectable .” Then, without anymore hesitation, his tongue slides home, pillaging and plundering in earnest and setting her off like a bottle rocket. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They are a heaving, sticky mess of boneless limbs and sweaty skin by the time all is said and done. Cleaning the remnants of sticky caramel from each other in a steamy shower leads to more delicious mingling, and by the time Killian emerges, about five minutes after his insatiable wife, still toweling his hair dry, he is completely, pleasantly wrung out and utterly spent. Tossing the towel haphazardly toward the hamper, in a distinctly less neat than usual gesture, he pads across the carpet toward the bed, waiting only for Emma to return with the water she had insisted they both needed to drink to replenish themselves.

 A few moments later, his wife appears in the doorway, two cold bottles of water in hand, and she steals his breath all over again.  Clad in the flannel he discarded when they had first begun, and nothing else, her bare, shapely legs entice him all the way up to where the hem of his shirt stops, and her sated smile lights her whole face as she moves toward him across the room. The sight of his Emma wrapped in his shirt as she crawls into bed beside him is the sweetest treat he could ever receive.

Tagging: @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @searchingwardrobes @jrob64 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @xsajx @apiratewhopines @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @xhookswenchx @the-darkdragonfly @spartanguard @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @therooksshiningknight @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @deckerstarblanche @sotangledupinit @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @darkcolinodonorgasm @artistic-writer @xarandomdreamx @anmylica @wefoundloveunderthelight @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @resident-of-storybrooke @blowmiakisscolin @caught-in-the-filter​ @kday426​ @gingerchangeling​ @gingerpolyglot​ @superchocovian​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @stahlop @bluewildcatfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv

[savingthrcw]

Under read more, a reminder of who my muses are, so you can like for a starter (obviously if it says 'open only to a few characters' check the navi page to know which ones) (also on their navi and about pages you can find wanted ships too, and in my pinned post links to their opens and other individual posts)

Kate Austen (Lost) [open to: canon and canon div. characters I know // crossovers: yes]

Sarah Walker (Chuck) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]

Jenny II, regenerated Doctor's daughter (Doctor Who) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]

Clarke Griffin (the 100, s1-s6) [open to: a few canon and canon div. characters // crossovers: no]

Alien Jemma Simmons (AoS, s1-s4) [open to: some canon and canon div. characters, some ocs // crossovers: yes (selectively)]

Lex (Baldur's Gate 3, the Tav) [in progress, can be open to teammates but before arc 3]

Alex McHugh (Chuck)[Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: maybe]

Terra Branford (ff6) [open to: canon, canon div. characters and ocs // crossovers: yes]

Neria Surana, elf mage Hero of Ferelden / potential follower (Dragon Age) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]

Lily Tabris, elf warrior Hero of Ferelden / potential follower (Dragon Age) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: yes]

Book!Alina Starkov (Grishaverse)[open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no]

Show!Alina Starkov (Shadow and Bone) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: not yet]

Bad Wolf Rose Tyler (Doctor Who) [open to: a few canon and canon div. characters // crossovers: no]

Ana Lucia Cortez (Lost) [open to: a few canon Lost characters // crossovers: no]

Ellie Bartowski (Chuck) [Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: maybe]

Cassandra Cillian (the Librarians) [open to: a few canon and canon div. characters // crossovers: no]

Tauriel (The Hobbit) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: not yet]

Ellana Lavellan, dalish elf mage / inquisitor, never follower (DAI) [open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no]

Solona Amell, human mage (??) Eldritch horror / hero or follower (DAO)[Open to: canon, canon divergent and oc characters // crossovers: no]

Emma Swan (OUAT) [open to: Killian, David, Snow // crossovers: no]

[snowbellewells]

Valentine’s Self-Promo Sunday: “Melted Chocolate”

This little fic of mine was originally posted very late on Valentine’s Day a few years back and never got many views.  Now I realize that Valentine’s Day has passed, but I still think this works for our rainy, pre-Spring time of year, and I hope some new folks may enjoy it this time around.

Author’s Notes: This was originally an entry in the CS Fic Exchange, for Prompt #4. I haven’t used every part, but I have worked in: candy hearts, rain, high winds, or other weather events, and the dialogue: “On a scale from one to irreconcilable differences on divorce papers, how much do you think (character) will mind if…?”  Imagine this is sometime not so far past the end of season six, but before Henry takes off on his own, since he is clearly still here and happy with Violet.

{Also available on AO3 and on ff.net }

“Melted Chocolate”

by: @snowbellewells

“No, no, no!” Emma Swan moaned in sheer disgruntled reluctance, already knowing it was as bad as she feared; her forehead coming to rest against the steering wheel of her Bug where her hands were still clenched tightly.  “Tell me this isn’t happening!”

The sudden rainstorm pelted down on the roof and against the windows; the downpour making her feel all the more hemmed in as the car tilted slightly in the sucking mud where they had swerved blindly off the road just enough to get stuck in the ditch, the left rear wheel sinking slowly in the mire where it was caught. The only thing that kept her from actually crying out in frustration was the feel of her husband’s curved appendage coming to rest on her shoulder, the comforting weight rubbing gentle circles into her tensed muscles in a soothing fashion.

“Come now, Love,” Killian murmured, bending to peer into her eyes as best he could with the way she had bent over the wheel and was petulantly avoiding his pretty blue eyes.  “It can’t be all that bad, can it?”

She gave him a narrow-eyed glare as she sat up to face him, but still heaved a dejected sigh.  If she looked at that concerned, adoring gaze too long, she wouldn’t even have her anger to hold onto.  “Well, pardon me,” she grumped, only half teasing.  “In case you hadn’t noticed, the car’s stuck, and there’s a literal monsoon going on outside, so it’s not great, no.”

As if in agreement with her words, the VW gave a creaking sort of settling moan, listing even more to the left once again, and Killian offered her a sheepish grin and half-shrug in recognition of her point.  “Well,” he offered hopefully, holding up the plastic shopping bag from their quick run to the next town over, “at least we won’t starve.”  He paired his words with a playful quirk of his brow, and for a fleeting moment it was all Emma could do not to burst out in a fit of giggles at his antics, the ridiculousness of the whole situation and the sudden storm blown up out of nowhere, despite all her previous frustration.

Shaking her head, she looked over at him in disbelieving amusement before responding sarcastically.  “You just had to have those particular candy hearts, didn’t you?”

“I did promise them to Henry.  After all the effort he went to in writing those verses for the young Lady Violet, it seemed a shame to deny him the finishing touch he requested.  They were out of stock at the Dark Star, and so I truly had no other recourse.  Though, whilst we are on the subject, why any of us frequent the pharmacy of a dwarf who has had a cold as long as I have known him is beyond me.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Emma snarked back tartly, “we’ve got bigger problems now.”

“Aye, Darling, I can see that,” Killian acceded with a grudging nod, knowing he was the more optimistic member of their duo and clearly therefore hated to acknowledge defeat and the negative until it couldn’t be helped.  Still, things had clearly reached that point, as a jarring crack of thunder chose that moment to rattle the car’s windows in their frames and a jagged streak of lightning blossomed in the sky, highlighting the tension on both their faces.

Licking his lips as if gathering himself for a difficult question before plowing ahead, Killian ventured a still somewhat hopeful glance across the center console to meet hers and asked.  “I don’t supposed your magic could unstick us from this predicament?”  But the words were barely uttered before he trailed off, chagrined at the embarrassed and regretful look on his wife’s face.

Emma shook her head mournfully, blaming herself already for whatever the issue might be. “I thought so too,” she replied softly, offering up her hands, palms turned up and lying open, “but it isn’t working.  Whatever command I try to send doesn’t seem to be having any effect.  My magic is as on the fritz as our phones and the radio seem to be.”  Letting her hands drop again dejectedly into her lap, Emma sent Killian an apologetic look and huffed out addition of, “I know, right? What good is having magic anyway, if it can’t get us out of a jam like this?  Some Valentine’s date I turn out to be!”

Killian was quick to shake his head in disagreement, reaching over to pick Emma’s hands up again and pull them toward where he bent his dark head over them to press chaste, worshipful kisses into the center of both palms, lingering as if merely to inhale her scent and be nearer to her.  “Emma, none of that now, my Lass,” he finally whispered against her skin, his lips petal-soft and his nose skimming along the life line that curved across her upper palm before the stubble that covered his chin and jawline began to tickle her sensitive skin.  Raising his eyes to look at her over their entwined fingers, he barely breathed his next words aloud, and yet Emma felt them reverberating all the way down to her toes.  “You are a bloody brilliant woman, amazing in every way, and the best Valentine any man could hope to have.  I would want a date with no other, and I am lucky to call you my wife.  Don’t you ever doubt that,” he swore fervently.

Emma’s smile was a bit tremulous, even as she tried not to get tearfully emotional on top of everything else.  She nodded rapidly at Killian, as he clearly expected her promise not to sell herself short or to beat herself up for things beyond her control.  She didn’t really trust her voice to be steady, but the warmth he had sent spreading through her insides was a heartening as bright sunshine on a summer’s day – the opposite of the wet grey pelting against the glass beside them.

Sniffling only slightly, she leaned over the console inconveniently stuck between them to bury her face in his chest, allowing his arms to wrap around and hold her close.  After several calming moments like that, Emma realized that things could honestly be much worse.  The rain – torrential flood strength though it might be – was outside, not leaking in anywhere, and they were still warm and dry.  It was peaceful here in her little old car, and they were blessedly alone; something that rarely happened, emergency or no.  No one was asking for their attention or even about to come looking for them and interrupt their moment together, not in the midst of such a cold, windy mess.  The location might not have been the ideal she’d had in mind, but they were together at least, and undisturbed, two things that might not have happened for them otherwise, even on Valentine’s Day.

Mumbling against Killian’s skin, but unwilling to pull away just then, Emma spoke up with a bit more good humor to ask, “So, on a scale from one to irreconcilable difference on divorce papers, how much do you think Henry would mind if we tore into that bag of candy hearts?”  She looked up at her pirate husband with an impish glimmer in her eyes.  “If we’re going to ride this storm out here instead of making our dinner reservations, I’m going to get hungry, aren’t you?”

Killian smirked back at her, pleased with the turn in mood and more than willing to play along.  “Oh, I don’t know, Swan, he seemed pretty adamant that Violet had to see these.  But…I have grown on the lad.  I don’t believe he would order me cast off at this first minor offense.”

She shook her head at his comeback, chortling at the impressive vocabulary he managed to employ even in jest, and began to rummage through the shopping bags for their plunder.

“However,” Killian said as he withdrew a small gift bag from somewhere inside his jacket, where Emma could only assume he had managed to hide it without her noticing sometime between the checkout and when they got in the car to head home, his voice temptingly low and eyebrow cocked invitingly. “If we do mean to break out our loot, I might have something for you that is a bit more appealing than those neon-colored, word-bedecked sugar cubes.”  His tongue swept over his lower lip seductively as he watched her reaction, and Emma found herself reaching out to take the gift almost disjointedly, her movements slowed a bit at the stunned, blind attraction he could kindle in her at a moment’s notice.

When she tipped the bag upside down to free a boxed heart-shaped chocolate as large as her fist and wrapped in metallic foil, Killian continued with his honeyed words.  “I thought you deserved something solid gold, Love.  More reminiscent of your heart.  Even if your real present is back at the house,” here he paused for dramatic effect, his eyebrows dancing merrily with barely restrained mischief, “I couldn’t resist when I saw this.”

“Flatterer,” Emma admonished, her cheeks warming as she used a nail to begin loosening the thick tape holding the box closed and pry it open.  “How much of that poem for Violet did Henry write, and how much of it was your suggestion?”

“A gentleman never tells,” Killian replied archly, as though he would never dream of divulging such sacred information, to Emma’s snort of disbelief.

She got the packaging open with a bit more finagling, only to find that being pressed against her pirate’s always warm body had made one side of the chocolate heart go a bit softly melted.  Making no comment, Emma tried to hold back the evil smile she felt creeping across her face.  Peeling back the golden wrapper enough to get to the treat, she stuck her fingers in and then pulled back quickly, chocolate all over her fingertips, to smear the gooey delicacy across Killian’s chin and down his neck with a devious squeal of triumph.

“Hey now! What -- ?” but Killian’s squawk of protest is overcome rather rapidly by the desperate growl that echoed through his chest when Emma darted in quickly to suck the chocolate residue from his chin and lick up the remnants marked down his neck.

It didn’t take her Captain long to retaliate, and soon they were both sticky, panting, and the treat meant to tide them over until they got out of their fix was mushed into their hair, over their faces and hands, and across much of both their outfits.  Still, Emma couldn’t find it in herself to mind.  They celebrated Valentine’s Day together amidst a rainstorm, in kisses, giggles, and melted chocolate.  No fancy dinner or dancing marked the occasion, but she did laughingly educate her Old World husband on what else could traditionally be done in a car stopped in the deserted middle of nowhere.  As holiday revelry went, neither one of them would have celebrated it any other way.

Tagging a few shipmates who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jennjenn615 @spartanguard @jrob64 @therooksshiningknight @ilovemesomekillianjones @xsajx  @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @let-it-raines @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @artistic-writer @stahlop @winterbaby89 @lfh1226-linda @gingerchangeling @hollyethecurious @blowmiakisscolin @ineffablecolors @kday426​ @shireness-says​ @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight @booksteaandtoomuchtv @xarandomdreamx @bdevereaux @motherkatereloyshipper @eastwesthomeisbest @iamstartraveller776 @lenfaz @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @veryverynotgoodwrites @sailtoafarawayland