#ouat s7 oneshot

[kazoosandfannypacks]

summary: gideon gold fumbles through an argument with his best friend, hope swan-jones. this time, for once, he has no idea what she's talking about. taglist: @accidental-spice @kanerallels @ouatnextgen @booksteaandtoomuchtv [let me know if you'd like to be added to or removed from the cygnet scholar taglist!] archive of our own

 Gideon had always prided himself on his intellect. He had his father's knowledge of magic, his mother's knowledge of everything else, and a report card to prove it.

 And yet, when his best friend pulled him aside to talk after school, with desperation in her eyes, the first thing she said was, "I really hope you're stupid."

 Gideon almost thought he hadn't heard Hope's words clearly.

 "What?" Gideon asked, "Hope, you of all people know…."

 "I know," Hope rolled her eyes, which for some reason didn't try as intently to meet his as they usually did, "you're the smartest person I know— and still, I've been praying for months now that somehow you're stupid."

 "Why?" He tried to study her face, but he'd always been better with pages than people.

 "It's easier that way," Hope shook her head, then sighed and crossed her arms, "at least, it's better than the alternative."

 "That I'm smart?" Gideon asked, feeling like the stupid one for the first time since they were kids.

 "Yeah," Hope said, "I can't bear the thought that you're smart. I don't like that you notice every little detail, and that you always think things through. I want to pretend you're not so intelligent, because it's a lot easier if you aren't. I've been really obvious. If you were stupid, maybe I could pretend you haven't figured it out yet— but you're not— which leads me to the only remaining conclusion."

 She stopped and took a deep breath, Gideon still unsure what she was talking about.

 "You know exactly how I feel," Hope said, her words edged with an anger he wished he could soothe— not just for his sake, but for hers, "and you don't feel the same way."

 In Gideon's defense, he had no idea how she felt, or what that had to do with him being stupid or smart or anything in between. Quite frankly, he had no idea what she was talking about, or, at least, he hoped he didn't.

 "Feel the same way about what?"

 Hope shook her head and sighed. "About us."

 Crap.

 Apparently, Hope had caught on to the fact that he was crushing on her. He'd thought he'd only stolen glances at her when she wasn't looking, that maybe she'd translate his help with her homework and how he'd treasure time they'd spend together as just a natural outpouring of their years of friendship. Maybe she'd picked up his feelings regardless— and if so, she definitely wasn't on the same page.

 "I'm sorry," Gideon said.

 "It's alright," Hope bit her lip, "it's not your fault."

 "No, no," Gideon said, "it probably is."

 "Not this time," Hope said.

 She had a point. She was a very hard person not to fall for— golden blonde hair, eyes always dancing with a scheme or a dream, a smile so lovely that even her sharpest insults felt like a gift.

 But, irony of ironies, now that the cat was out of the bag and the feelings weren't reciprocated, he doubted he'd get to hear many more of those smiled insults. He liked her, apparently she didn't feel the same way, and now things could never go back to the way they'd been before. And, as much as Hope might try to take the blame for this one, it was Gideon's fault.

 "It's not your fault I fell in love with you," Gideon shook his head, "no matter how easy you made it for me."

 "What was that?" Hope asked, her eyes living up to her namesake.

 "You made it easy for me?" Gideon repeated, a bit confused.

 "Before that," she quickly replied.

 "I'm in love with you?" Gideon repeated, more than a bit confused.

 "You're in love with me?" Hope asked.

 "Yes! Isn't that what this whole argument's about?" Gideon asked, "I fell in love with you, but you don't feel the same way, and I've missed the obvious signs that it's not mutual."

 "Not at all," Hope said, and for some reason she laughed a little, "I guess I must've missed something too. I thought you didn't like me."

 "But I do," Gideon said.

 "And I love you too, stupid," she shook her head and smiled.

 "You do?" Gideon asked, replaying in his mind everything they'd just said and seeing how it made sense this time around. He and Hope were on the same page. "That's great!"

 She slipped her hands into his.

 "Thank God you're so stupid," Hope said.

 There it was again, those insults that felt so special, wrapped in her smile.

 Before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.

 "I love you, too," Gideon whispered across her reddened cheek.

 Hope let go of his hand to tuck a hair behind her ear.

 "I should probably get going," she said, "my dad finds out about this before I get the chance to break it to him, and my first crush will be dead before I get the chance to call him my first boyfriend."

 As Gideon processed all the words in that sentence and the somersaults they taught his stomach, Hope stood up on tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek.

 "Call you later, okay?" Hope said.

 "Okay," Gideon nodded.

 He was left to his musings quite a while as he walked home. Suddenly, he didn't care one iota about whether he was the smartest kid in his grade. He must be doing something right, if Hope was almost calling him her boyfriend.

 Maybe he wasn't the smartest guy in the world— but he was certainly the luckiest.

🦢•💛•🎓

[priscilla9993]

Endless Longing

Inspired and based off of @fairytalepsuedonym's fic "Mirror" on AO3. I'm going to add on to Old Wish Hook's POV.

His mind was hazy, pounding as the liquor wore off its ephemeral bliss, but it didn't take away his sorrow. "Alice," he murmured as he watched through tears clouding his view as a daughter and her father stood in front of him, glancing at a shop's wares, laughing over a joke. He pounded his fist on the ground, wishing he could trade places with them, pretend that all he did leading up to his sorry state was a dream. Alice should have been able to walk around, explore the shops, and he'd buy her anything she'd want within reason. But the young girl with blonde tresses was not her. Even though the sight of her made him see Alice for a moment, it was just a pale mirage. Hook knew he wasn't young anymore, his body tired and slumped over from the day's travails of drinking. Ahab was right. He had become a pathetic shell of a formidable captain that once traveled the seas. He fought for his honor then and look where that got him. He sighed, erasing the dull thought. All he wanted was to get back to his little girl. 

But he didn't. He couldn't even if he got sober. Hook had no clue what to do next, what mattered next if he couldn't free her. “How old would she be now?” he wondered. He hated the fact that he had even questioned it when he used to know in the blink of an eye. However, after the first years of being away from her looking for a cure for his poisoned heart, each time her birthday came felt like a stab to him. He used to buy small presents he planned to give her if he ever could, until he gave up, realizing that he didn’t know her as he used to. He was ashamed he didn’t know her favorite color or interests. One year turned into two, then three, and so on. However, he never forgot his promise to free her, to come back for her; his regrets tying him down as his efforts had been futile and he knew he was selfish for stopping when he could have gone on. He did the mental math anyways, scared for himself to know how long, but realizing he deserved the blow for not being the man he needed to be when she needed him most. He hoped and wished to the gods that Gothel didn’t harm her while they were cursed to stay apart. He could handle anything that came his way, but Alice... she deserved the world. 

At least before, he could give her hope of getting free, but instead he had condemned her to an immovable prison. A broken smile broke on his face and a bitter taste stained his mouth from biting his lips. “Seven years. She’d be seventeen this year,” he said, a wry laugh escaping in his frustration. 

It'd been too many years. “Maybe I am like my father, maybe worse,” he said softly aloud. Sure, he hadn’t purposefully abandoned Alice and didn’t want to, but he had done so all the same in technicality. The voice in the back of his head whispered that there’d be no way she would forgive him, and even if she did like the angel he remembered her as, he wouldn’t be able to accept it. Hook couldn't remember her face, her laugh a distant blur and her voice no more than a gentle hum, as he envied the father and daughter pair. Ironically, her screams still plagued his nightmares, always while he was trying to soothe her dream self, her face masked in despair as he had broken his promise and blaming him for defending his pride when he should have been with her. His flask was empty, the last bits of the bitter nectar shimmering in the light of the sunset as they and their shadows walked by. 

His guilt was immeasurable, but he found himself yielding to his need to relieve the pain. He didn’t want to be in this realm of reality, sitting at that exact place anymore for the day. “Maybe there’s another bottle of rum back at the cave,” he assured himself. He kept one for emergencies there if he ever got injured or needed a pain reliever, but it could be empty from his last craving. If so, Hook knew he could beg, steal, or cough up enough money from his stash to buy another bottle as he pulled himself off the ground, anything to dash his thoughts away until the next hangover. Drinking had become a routine, the days fading into the next. He listed from his head like clockwork, saying with a falsified childlike glee, “One for the memory, two for the pain.” He didn’t love the bottle with a deeper distain. With a grave seriousness, he whispered, “I know I’m not the man I wanted to be, but wait for me, Alice. Please be safe,” as if his words could reach her, his hand firmly clutching on the black rook on the inside of his coat pocket. He looked around, trying to compose himself as he started stumbling and darting in the crowd, heading back to his cave to let himself sleep until the next bottle called to him.

[snowbellewells]

CS Fic Rec Monday: “The Spanish Opening” by @unfolded73

This little oneshot is a season 7 divergent, I suppose, though I almost feel like it fits in well enough to be more of a missing moment I really wish we could have seen onscreen. There’s lovely KnightRook feels here, as well as Wish!Hook and Robyn Mills bonding that is equally beautiful and heartfelt. This one really was so lovely it made the tears start in my eyes and my heart squeeze. All of them are written so well and true to their characters.  You’ll love the sweet thing Robyn does for Wish!Hook and Alice so they can play chess -- It’s amazing, I promise!

“The Spanish Opening” by @unfolded73

[stark-park]

Christmas Heights - OUAT Oneshot

It’s Christmas in Hyperion Heights.

Roni/Regina is ahead of everyone and has already got plans for them all. She tells her family; Henry, Jacinda, Lucy, Rogers (and possibly Weaver, depending on whether he’s still denying he’s awake to her) that Christmas dinner is taken care of, Roni’s is the place to be and they better be there!

They turn up expecting the pub to be crawling with people celebrating, but it’s empty. The tables have been pushed together in the room and theres space for everyone to sit at the table (even a few extra seats as Regina’s already anticipated a few extras will be invited).

Henry is of course the first to turn up, he exchanges gifts with Roni, touched that she got him a gift as well as hosting this dinner. Not long after, the door opens with an excited Lucy running in, Jacinda and Sabine close behind with a haul of baked goodies to add to the Christmas feast. Last to turn up is Rogers, he’d been hesitant to join them, thinking it wasn’t truly his place but Roni has threatened insisted he join them, he didn’t need to bring anything, his company would be loved. Still, he felt he’d be out of place amongst the group. Luckily for him, there was a certain someone he knew would love to join him (or so he hoped, he truly hoped she would say yes).

“I, er…” Rogers mumbled embarrassingly, “I was wondering if you’d join me for dinner, at Roni’s. You don’t have-”

“I’d love to!” Tilly beamed. Then her face dropped in realisation. Rogers’ heart skipped, she’d changed her mind! No, no, how could she change her mind that quickly? Am I really that bad? He thought.

“I haven’t got anyone gifts!” She panicked. She searched her makeshift home for respectable gifts, only for Rogers to calmly place a hand on her shoulder; “No one is expecting anything. They just want our company. Roni assured me.”

He didn’t truly believe his own words but it was able to calm a worrying Tilly for the time being.

“Alright. But here.” She said, holding something wrapped in newspaper. It was clear she’d made an effort, even if it wasn’t the neatest.

“You didn’t-” He croaked.

“I wanted to.” She rushed, looking to the floor for comfort.

The pair of them looked at each other, admiring the amount of thought each had for one another. Tilly, with all the chaos and insecurity in her life, had managed to find a gift that suited Rogers perfectly, and Rogers, had finally found someone he could be a true role model to, someone he could care for, someone to fill that feeling in his heart that had been missing for so long.

“C’mon. We don’t wanna be late.” Rogers finally said, making for the car.

“Wait!” He cried, before she jumped in the passenger seat and crushed her own gift.

“What?” She asked, thinking for a second this was too good to be true and he didn’t actually want her to join him and his friends this Christmas.

“It’s alright,” he said a moment later, “I just didn’t want you to sit on your present.”

She slid into the car, a massive grin finding its way onto her face, looking at him, if only for a second, like he was her entire world.

“Merry Christmas.”

When the pair finally got to Roni’s, all except Roni were engaged in a heated battle of Charades, their host, meanwhile, was bringing out the dinner from the kitchen back and forth, back and forth. She’d made it clear that no one else was to help, she was the host, they were to simply relax and enjoy Christmas.

“I hope it’s alright.” Tilly whispered as they approached the group.

“Hey you made it!” Henry smiled.

The two placed their gifts on a nearby coffee table, apologising to everyone that they weren’t great at gift-giving.

“Marmalade.” Henry noted, receiving the jar with a drunken bow struggling to keep its lopsided shape. “I love marmalade.” He lied, thanking them all the same.

“Alright!” Roni called from the kitchen, “Get those keisters to the table, because here comes the turkey!”

[snowbellewells]

@thesschesthair Oh I was just scrolling and happened along this lovely little fic — and I’m so glad I did. You write this little moment between Rogers and Sabine so beautifully and it reads as very real and natural. It does feel like an little scene that could have happened in s7 and we just didn’t see it until now. Love how he just takes the time to see her and help when she needs it, and how she genuinely appreciates his kindness and gives him the sweet cheek kiss. Thanks so much for sharing this!! 😊

It’s alright

Just a teeny Hooking Utensil moment of cuteness… cos they be cute!

“Knock knock!” Rogers greeted cheerily as he boarded the back of the rollin’ bayou.

“Hey. Tilly’s already gone.” Sabine sighed, too busy with scrubbing the fryer to turn to him.

“I’m aware. Margot has apparently whisked her away so I thought i’d come and see if there were any beignets going spare?” he joked.

It had become a part of his daily routine, whether it be to pick up or drop off Tilly, or to just see Sabine, he enjoyed checking up and stopping by for conversation.

“Fresh out.” she informed him. She paused momentarily to address him. “Hey look, i’m not the best company right now.”

Rogers became concerned. He could see she was clearly out of sorts and anything he could do to help, he would.

“What’s wrong?”

Sabine let out another huff before continuing to scrub. “What’s right! Jacinda is all up in the air, Lucy’s on some worrying secret mission… and i’m trying to be there for them and be supportive but this truck is a lot harder to run than I thought it would be and I-”

Sabine slammed the scourer down and rubbed her hands over her face.

“I’m sorry-just- can we pick up again tomorrow? I just… i’m sorry.”

Rogers saw the slight shame and sadness as she picked up the scourer and continued scrubbing.

She was strong. This woman, trying to be a great friend, a supportive aunt, a successful business woman and chef… yet no one could see she was at breaking point.

He could feel the distress rolling off her in waves.

She needed a break.

Rogers studied her for a moment longer before quietly turning to the serving counter. He collected the trays of plastic utensils and put them away before spraying the surface with disinfectant and wiping it down generously. Sabine turned to see what he was doing and couldn’t find the words to question him. She was too tired to protest and in all honesty… she was grateful.

They worked in silence, cleaning down the truck and packing away all of the equipment, ready to be used again the following day. Sabine couldn’t help sneaking glances at the detective, wondering how an officer of the law could just pick up a cloth and get to work after a full day’s shift… with no prompts whatsoever.

In no time at all, the bayou was sparkling and ready for another day.

Rogers threw the last wad of paper towel in the trash and turned to find Sabine staring at him.

“Thank you.” she told him earnestly. “I mean it. That really helped-”

“Hey.” He cooed, noticing the tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s alright.”

It was a natural reaction to reach out and pull her in, and the moment his arm looped around her shoulders, she sank against his chest and let out a sigh. All the tension seeped from her as he held her close.

They stood in silence, simply holding each other. Relishing in how good it felt to be held, to be supported.

To be comforted.

She could’ve fallen asleep at the soft caress his hand drew idly up and down her back.

After a few moments of peace, Sabine regretfully pulled back.

“It’s getting late. Jay will be wondering where I am.”

Rogers suddenly became bashful, trying to find the right wording.

“You’ve got my number, you know, you can call me anytime. You don’t have to bottle things up. If you ever want to talk…”

Sabine smiled and reached up to place a kiss on his stubbled cheek. She almost chuckled at the way he seemed to grow a deeper shade of crimson.  

“I appreciate it.”

“Goodnight, Sabine.” He smiled shyly, stepping back and towards the bayou door.

“Night, detective.”

Sabine watched him go and turned to grab her bag.

It hadn’t solved all of her problems, but one small act of kindness combined with one moment of solace had taken a huge weight off her shoulders.

She’d found her smile again.

And suddenly her problems didn’t seem so dreadful.

[ao3feed-swanqueen]

Missed SwanQueen Moments S7

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2gktDhN

by SwanQueenUK

A collection of sexy SwanQueen one shots all starting with a single line of dialogue from OUAT. This fic will contain one chapter for each episode of Season 7 with SwanQueen scenes, attempting to show how many opportunities were missed on the show to make SwanQueen canon. Rated E for a reason folks! Complete for now...

Words: 2688, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 7 of Missed SwanQueen Moments

Fandoms: Once Upon a Time (TV)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Evil Queen | Regina Mills, Emma Swan, Henry Mills (Once Upon a Time)

Relationships: Evil Queen | Regina Mills/Emma Swan

Additional Tags: swanqueen - Freeform, Swen - Freeform, Once Upon A Time, Lesbian Sex, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Fingering, Kitchen Sex, Oneshot, NSFW, Sexy Times, Porn with Feelings, true loves, Sex

read it on the AO3 at http://ift.tt/2gktDhN

[kazoosandfannypacks]

Potion Commotion by kazoosandfannypacks

Pairing: Cygnet Scholar Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 3.7K words Summary: After briefly getting captured, Hope begins acting strangely, and Gideon tries to help her get back to normal, painfully unaware that the "bizarre questions" she's asking him are pickup lines. Characters: Gideon Gold, Hope Swan-Jones, Henry Mills, Robin Mills, Neal "CJ" [Charming Jr] Nolan, and Charlotte Nolan (OC) Author’s notes: This is an experiment with an AU I plan on writing, in which Henry leads a group of the next generation of heroes on a quest through the enchanted forest. In this timeline, the Charmings have another daughter, Charlotte, who was born less than a year after the S6 finale, and Hope was born about a month later. Taglist: @accidental-spice, @saveme-storybrooke-potc [let me know if you'd like to be added to this taglist!]

also on ao3!

 It'd been hours since Hope went missing. Henry, Robin, C.J. and Charlotte had all left to look for her an hour and a half ago, leaving Gideon waiting in case she came back to the campsite.

 "She never should've wandered off," Gideon muttered to himself as he paced around camp, "she knows it's dangerous. She knows they're watching us. And still, she did it anyway. Who knows what could happen to her?"

 Gideon sighed as he sat down on a log near the firepit, wishing Hope was back at the camp already, giving him a hard time for being so frantic, picking on the unnecessary worry lines he could already tell were forming on his forehead.

 He sprang to his feet, hearing someone coming, and turned to see Hope emerge from the forest, stumbling as though out of a daze.

 "Hope!" he said, running to her while trying to act as cool as possible, "where were you?"

 "Captured," she said, rubbing her forehead, "a couple goons brought me in for questioning. Whatever they gave me to make me talk is giving me the worst headache…."

 She looked up at Gideon, and, for whatever reason, smiled at him.

 "Something must be wrong," Gideon thought. Hope had never smiled at him like that before.

 "Are you alright?" Gideon asked.

 "Besides the headache, pretty good. I've been better though," Hope said, though the unusual smile spread further across her face, "say, Gid, have I ever told you you have, like, really pretty eyes?"

 Gideon scrunched his brow, confused.

 "They were genetically unavoidable," he said, "brown eyes are a dominant trait. Are you sure you're…."

 "You're so smart," she interrupted, "ya know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put 'u' and 'I' next to each other."

 "What's the alphabet got to do with any of this?" Gideon thought, though he figured he'd humor her.

 "Uh, I'd do something similar," Gideon said, "it'd be cool to rearrange the alphabet so it's in the order it appears on a keyboard, make it easier to learn to type. Though, I suppose in time, the order on a keyboard will be obsolete, as it'll all be touchscreens one of these days."

 "Wow. Are you from Tennessee?" Hope asked, "because you're…."

 "Hope," Gideon's concern for her wellbeing wouldn't let her finish, "you grew up just down the street from me, in Maine. Are you sure you're alright? They didn't give you a memory loss potion, did they- of course, if they did, you wouldn't know- but you said they gave you something. But what good would it do them to wipe your memory before questioning you? What do you remember from the questioning?"

 "I remember, uh," Hope said, "I think I remember someone saying 'you won't remember most of this,' and then I was back here."

 "Why don't you take a seat?" Gideon asked, leading her back to the log to sit down, "you've had quite the day."

 "Doesn't feel like it," Hope said.

 She sat down on the log. Once Gideon sat down, she slid over a little, closer to him.

 "That's a nice shirt, Gid," she said.

 Gideon tried to help jog her memory, "We got it from the merchant that came by last week, remember? It was fifty percent off."

 "I'd like it to be a hundred percent off," Hope smiled, an eyebrow raised.

 "That would be a ridiculous business model," Gideon said, "stores can't just give stuff away for free."

 "It's like you fell from heaven," Hope shook her head and smiled.

 "That's a low blow," Gideon retorted, trying not to get too angry, knowing that whatever was causing Hope's unusual mood was most likely not her fault, "what, you think I'm some kind of fallen angel or something? Is it because my dad's the Dark One? Sorry we can't all have the Savior for our mom."

 "You don't get it," Hope shook her head, "it's supposed to be a compliment. That you're from heaven."

 "Oh," Gideon thought, finally piecing it together, "it's because I died that one time and came back again. Rest assured, I…."

 Hope put a finger on his lips to shut him up.

 "Gideon Gold, you are the smartest idiot I've ever met," Hope said, then took her finger off his lips and booped his nose with it.

 "What does that mean?"

 "You're so lost in your books that you don't see what's right in front of you- and yet, here I am, right in front of you."

 "I'm not quite sure what you mean," Gideon said, pulling one of the tomes his mom had given him out of his backpack, "but we should try and figure out what kind of potion they drugged you with- maybe I can whip up an antidote or something."

 "You and your one-track mind," Hope said, head shaking, eyes rolling, "whoever said 'guys only want one thing' has never met Gideon Gold."

 "Thanks?" Gideon said, unsure if Hope meant it as a compliment or insult, "can you recall anything about whatever it was they gave you? Color, viscosity, physical side effects, flavor, smell…"

 "Flavor?" Hope asked.

 "Oh yeah," Gideon said, flipping through potential potions, "for example, adder's tongue is a bit tangy, eye of newt has an unmistakable aftertaste. If we can narrow down a few of the ingredients…."

 "I'm not sure if I've ever had eye of newt." Hope said.

 "Believe me, you'd remember if you'd had it," Gideon said, "I went through a whole bottle of mouthwash in a day the first time I tried it."

 "Then I guess I wouldn't be able to recognize its aftertaste," Hope said, then leaned a little closer, "but maybe you'd recognize it."

 "Presumably, yes," Gideon said, "if I were the one given the potion, I might be able to pick out a few of the ingredients."

 "You could try a taste and find out," Hope said, her finger tapping her lips.

 "I'm all for experiential sciences," Gideon said, "but even if you had a sample of the potion, I doubt it'd be wise for me to drink some."

 Hope sighed. "You're lucky you're pretty, Gideon."

 "Thanks," he said. Though he knew her compliment was most likely borne of whatever magic had been used on her, he still didn't mind her saying something nice to him for once, "you, uh, you look nice too."

 "I've always thought so," Hope said.

 "Me too," Gideon thought.

 He continued flipping through the book of potions. He ruled out, for the moment, transmogrification potions, as she very clearly hadn't been turned into a toad or a troll- and though he didn't rule out werewolf as a possibility yet, that wouldn't be an immediate problem anyways. The first concern in situations like this was always the highest risk potions- poisons, neurotoxins, mind control, sleeping curse- then he could move onto the more likely in the scenario, like mood enhancers and late-blooming mutations.

 So engrossed was he in his studying that he almost didn't notice as Hope slid even closer to him, her arm pressed against his, her head practically on his shoulder. He slid the book over a little closer to her, absentmindedly assuming that she'd slid over to read the book as well.

 He also almost didn't notice the search party returning until they were already in the camp.

 "Hope!" Henry called out, running over to give her a hug. Hope got up to return Henry's hug, but Gideon continued his research.

 "Are you alright?" Henry asked.

 "I'm fine," Hope said, "bit of a headache, but I'll manage."

 "I am so glad nothing happened to you," Henry said.

 "I wouldn't say nothing happened," Hope said, pulling out of her brother's embrace and holding him at arm's length, "I got captured by some thugs, but I don't remember most of it."

 "Captured?" Henry asked, "what happened?"

"I already told you, I don't remember most of it," Hope said, "I think they gave me some kind of potion. Gideon's working on figuring that out- he's really smart, and clever, and polite, and sweet, and funny, and…."

 Gideon looked up to see four confused pairs of eyes glancing back and forth between himself and Hope.

 "Whatever they drugged her with has affected her mood," he explained, "I'm not sure how. She's been acting weird ever since she got back to the camp."

 "What kind of weird?" Robin asked, taking a seat next to Gideon and looking at his potion book.

 "I can't explain it," Gideon said, "she keeps asking me all these weird questions, she's smiling more than usual, she's a little nicer than usual too."

 "I don't want to be mean to you, Gideon," Hope said, taking a seat on his other side, "You're so smart, and yet so adorably stupid sometimes, and clever, and cute- really cute."

 "See?" Gideon told the others, "something's not right."

 C.J. and Henry smiled at each other, and so did Robin and Charlotte.

 "What kind of questions was Hope asking you earlier?" Henry asked.

 "Weird ones," Gideon said.

 "They weren't weird," Hope said.

 "You asked me if I'm from Tennessee," Gideon said, "and then you asked if I was from heaven, and told me my shirt should be free, and…."

 "Those weren't questions, idiot," Hope said.

 Robin put her hand on Gideon's shoulder.

 "I think I know what kind of potion they gave her," Robin said, "it sounds like it was a love potion."

 "A love potion?" Gideon scoffed, flipping through the book to that potion, "don't be ridiculous, Robin. There's nothing they'd stand to gain from that, and in order for you to hypothesize that, she'd need to be showing symptoms, like," he read from the book in front of him, "'fawning over an individual, express interest in that individual and their interests, a desire to be close to said individual, longing for affection from said individual, even bordering on obsession.' So as you can see, there's no real grounds for that hypothesis."

 Gideon looked up from the book to see everyone staring at him like he was an idiot.

 "What?" he asked.

 Henry uncrossed his arms, only so he could pinch the bridge of his nose.

 "Those weird questions Hope was asking you," Henry shook  his head, "I think those were pickup lines."

 "Really?" Gideon turned to Hope.

 "Duh," Hope smiled.

 "But that would mean…" Gideon began. If Hope was using pickup lines on him, that meant she was trying to flirt with him, which would mean that… Gideon reread the list of side effects of the love potion.

 "Guys," Gideon said, "I think Hope's been given a love potion."

 "Really?" Robin asked, "gee, what was the first clue?" 

 Gideon looked back down at the book, "her 'express interest' in me, her 'desire to be close' to me, even 'bordering on obsession.'"

 Robin rolled her eyes.

 "I don't think it was a love potion," Hope said, "I don't feel any differently about Gideon than I normally do."

 "Really?" Gideon asked.

 "Oh yeah," Hope said, "I've felt this way about you for a long time. You're cute, and smart, and such a good friend."

 "Really?" Gideon smiled a little and scratched the back of his neck. He'd felt similarly for quite a while as well.

 "That's probably a side effect of the potion," Charlotte interjected.

 "Oh, yeah, there's a lot of side effects" Robin said, taking the book from Gideon. As she looked through it, she got up, taking the book with her.

 "I think her memory's a little fogged too, anyways," Gideon said, "she can't remember anything from the time she was captured to when she got back here."

 "No, I remember something," Hope said, "I remember someone saying 'you won't remember most of this.' Turns out, they were right."

 "That does mean we can work on an antidote though," Gideon said, "now that we know the potion, I can whip up an antidote pretty quickly. I think I have most of the supplies already," he picked up his backpack and began searching through it, "and I might be able to whip up a brain-unfogger too."

 "You're so intelligent, Gid," Hope said, placing a hand on his arm, "I like watching you ramble about magicky, sciencey stuff."

 "Thanks," Gideon smiled, trying to remind himself that the only reason Hope was complimenting him was because she was under some kind of love spell.

 "She'd never act like this if she were really herself right now," Gideon thought, "I definitely would've remembered if she did." 

 "And now that we know what we're looking for, we might be able to find a clue as to where those goons went," Charlotte said, "we should see if we can find them, while the tracks are fresh." 

 "Sounds like a good idea," Hope stood up, "I can lead you as far as I can remember."

 "You need to stay here," Robin said, "that way when Gideon gets that antidote finished, we can get you back to normal."

 "Oh, good," Hope said, taking a seat next to Gideon, "I wanted to stay here anyways."

 "Excellent," Gideon said, "I could use your help with the potion anyways."

 "We do work pretty well together," Hope nudged him.

 "I think I'll hang back too, just in case" Henry said, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Gideon. "I'd hate for anything else to happen to my little sister."

 Hope rolled her eyes. "I'm not a little girl anymore, Henry."

 "But you'll always be my little sister," Henry said, "and if anything happened to you, especially given your current state, dad would probably kill me- and then whoever it was who took advantage of you."

 Gideon looked up at Henry, sensing this was meant as a threat against him. If anyone else had a lovely young lady like Hope falling all over him like this, they'd definitely take advantage of the scenario- but if something were to happen between himself and Hope, he'd want it to be her choice, not because of some kind of potion. Besides, as Henry had reminded him, Gideon had a healthy level of respect for her father, and would rather die on the spot than find out what happened when you crossed Captain Jones.

 "No need to worry," Gideon said, trying to ignore how close Hope was sitting next to him.

 "Believe me," Hope rolled her eyes, "Einstein over here wouldn't know I was flirting with him if I sat in his lap and begged him to kiss me."

 Gideon blushed, almost wishing she would, wondering what it would be like- though after this fiasco was over, he wouldn't be surprised if things were so awkward between them that any chance they had was ruined.

 Henry raised a disapproving eyebrow at his sister.

 "It's not like I would do that," Hope said, "not that I wouldn't want to- but love potion or not, I have at least a little dignity."

 "Besides, we could use your help out there, Henry," C.J. said, "it never hurts to have an extra pair of eyes."

 "Fine," Henry said, "just stay out of trouble, alright?"

 "I'll do my best to," Hope said, "but I can't promise I won't try anything funny."

 "Hope…."

 "I'll be good!" Hope said, "mostly?"

 "I won't try anything," Gideon said, as Robin handed him back the book, "I've got this antidote to work on anyways. We'll come help as soon as I get it figured out."

 "Alright," Henry said. He and the others left, leaving Hope and Gideon at the campsite.

 "So, what can I do to help?" Hope asked.

 "Here, hold this," Gideon said, pulling an empty vial out of his backpack.

 Hope took the vial from him, her hands on his as she did so.

 Gideon smiled a little as he let go and pulled a few ingredients out of his bag.

 "You have a really nice smile," Hope said.

 His really nice smile came out again. "Thanks," he said.

 "You're welcome," she said, "I think you're really handsome."

 "It's just the love potion talking," Gideon shook his head. He began pouring the antidote ingredients in the vial.

 "I don't think so."

 "What do you mean?"

 "I know you guys all think it's a love potion, but I don't," Hope said, "I don't feel any different around you than I normally do."

 "You're certainly acting differently," Gideon said.

 "I know," Hope said, "it's like I can't stop myself. I've said a few things already that I didn't expect myself to say. I don't want to tell you I think you're gorgeous and that the sound of your voice when you're talking about your favorite school subjects is my favorite sound in the world, and that one time your mom told me she liked me better than you and that in third grade I was the one who stole your Star Wars pencil, not Charlotte- but I can't stop saying stuff."

 Gideon looked up at Hope, who looked just as surprised as he felt.

 "What was that?" Gideon asked.

 "I stole your Star Wars pencil in third grade," Hope said, "and I didn't want to tell you that. I've never told anyone that, except Charlotte, of course- and I don't want to tell you any of this, but I can't stop."

 "What other secrets have you been keeping?" Gideon asked, formulating a new hypothesis and flipping back through his book.

 "I didn't actually roll a nat twenty when we were battling the orc king," Hope said, "the stakes were high, so I used one of the loaded D&D dice my dad got me for my birthday. He also actually looks up to you a lot. Oh, and Henry still sleeps with a nightlight, and Charlotte actually really loves apples, she's just been saying she doesn't because she wants to be like her mom. I'm also pretty sure C.J.'s afraid of sheep. I don't know why I told you all of that; I really didn't want to."

 "I know why you did," Gideon said, taking the vial from her and handing her a pinch of something else, "try some of this."

 Hope licked the powder off her hand, and immediately spat it out.

 "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted!" Hope said, "besides those burned gingerbread men you made last Christmas."

 "Ever tasted anything like that before?" Gideon asked.

 "No, and I never want to again," Hope said.

 "Wait," Gideon looked back down at the ingredient, "my gingerbread cookies tasted worse than eye of newt?"

 "Eye of Newt?" Hope asked, "that stuff you used a bottle of mouthwash to wash out?"

"Ground eye of newt, yes," Gideon said, "it's one of the primary ingredients in most basic love potions."

"But I've never tasted it before in my life," Hope said, "no amount of 'brain fogging' could make me forget that- and yes, your gingerbread cookies were awful- ginger's a flavor, not the main course- I just didn't want to make you feel bad because you were so proud of them."

 Gideon flipped a few pages over in the potions book.

 "I have a new hypothesis," he said, thankful that the base antidote for this potion was only a few ingredients off from the love potion antidote- and that he hadn't put those different ingredients in yet. He handed the vial back to Hope, adding a couple other ingredients as well.

 "Try this," Gideon said, as he swirled the mixture together.

 "And this'll fix me?" Hope asked.

 "If my hunch is correct, yes," Gideon nodded.

 "Alright," Hope said, "there better not be any eye of newt in here."

 Gideon watched expectantly as she drank the contents, down to the very last drop.

 "Well?" Gideon asked, "how do you feel?"

 "Better," Hope said.

 "Any other secrets you wanna share?" Gideon asked.

 "No," Hope said, "and if you tell Henry I told you about the nightlight or the loaded die, I'll flatten you."

 "Your secret's safe with me," Gideon smiled at her threat. That was the Hope he remembered.

 "I just threatened you," Hope said, "and you aren't all that smart, or cute. You did it, Gold! You cured me!"

 Excited, she threw her arms around him in a quick hug.

 "I, uh," he said, flipping back through his book, "I can whip up a memory antidote too."

 "You'd better," Hope said, gently shoving him.

 Gideon smiled as he got started on the memory potion, secretly hoping that remembering the details of her capture wouldn't make her realize what serum she'd actually taken earlier.

 Gideon was right when he'd insisted there was no way Hope was under a love potion's spell- which meant that every word she'd just said was true. She did steal his pencil in the third grade, and she did hate his gingerbread cookies, and she did think of him as smart and pretty, and she didn't not want to ask him to kiss her, and she did feel that way for a long time.  She did like him, and that was the truth- otherwise, the truth serum antidote he'd just made for her wouldn't've brought her back to normal.

 "Try this," Gideon said, handing her the memory potion.

 "Is there…?"

 "There's no eye of newt in this one either," Gideon said.

 "Just checking," Hope said. She quickly drank the contents of the vial.

 "What do you remember now?" Gideon asked.

 "It wasn't a love…" she whispered under her breath.

 "Hmm?" Gideon asked.

 "I told them so much," Hope quickly covered her tracks, "where our camp is, our attack plans- I told them everything."

 "It's alright," Gideon said, giving her a pat on the arm to reassure her.

 "I couldn't stop myself," Hope shook her head, "I… I wasn't strong enough."

 "It's alright," Gideon said, "probably just a side effect of the love potion."

 "What?" Hope asked.

 He didn't let his eyes shift from hers, hoping he could feign sincerity.

 "The love potion," he said, "the one they gave you. Probably made you loose-lipped, more liable to talk. Don't sweat it."

 "Right," Hope nodded, "the love potion. That's all it was."

 If Hope ever wanted to tell him the truth, she could on her own time- she'd done more than enough of that already today.

 And for now, her secret was safe with him.

[snowbellewells]

Let the Reins Go Loose

This is a new experiment for me, but I am attempting to write a bit of a daddies bonding one shot for Wish!Hook/Rogers and David/Charming. ��I didn’t do much writing that actually followed along with the season 7 storyline while it was happening. (Not that I didn’t like it, I was just doing more straight AU or imagining what could be happening with CS back in Storybrooke.)  However, if all of the realms are now joined, I could see Wish!Hook and his daughter (and Robyn) spending some time with our original cast in Storybrooke. I can also imagine Rogers/Wish!Hook and David Nolan becoming mates and having a lot in common, just as Charming did with Killian Jones before him.  So, I offer you this little bit of papa angst and friendship/understanding for Captain Charming Friday – though it’s really more of a Rogers Charming brotp (if that’s even a thing! ;)

“Let the Reins Go Loose”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

 Chuckling lightly, Joel Rogers shook his head in happy disbelief watching the three horses and their young riders cantering through the tall grass in the late spring meadow.  Tilting his head back to savor the light breeze caressing his face and tickling through the short tufts of his dark hair, the man both a former detective and former pirate, still enjoyed a comforting distant hint of salt sea air in the gust, even though they were some distance from his beloved ocean waves.

The other man standing just to his right clapped a strong hand to Rogers’ shoulder companionably, offering a brilliant smile as well to his new friend.  “See? Didn’t I tell you not to worry?” he offered in that deep, jovial voice, an assured resonance that allowed the former police officer from Hyperion Heights a glimpse into just why an entire realm’s subjects would follow this man as King without hesitation.  Though Dave Nolan bore none of the selfish, cruel, and egotistic traits of most other rulers in Hook’s long experience over two lives’ worth of memories, there was a certainty, a leadership, that radiated from the shepherd-king and which one inherently trusted.  “I had a feeling she’d be a natural.”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow quizzically at his mate, before turning his attention back once more to his Alice, Robyn Mills, and Dave’s son Neal, enjoying their horseback riding in the large field just at the edge of the deep woods – the marker where Storybrooke melted into the old Enchanted Forest on the east and Arendelle’s borders to the north. “And just how did you ascertain that?” he questioned playfully.

The sandy-haired deputy (part-time these days) looked more at ease than ever, spending most of his time as a simple country farmer with some sheep to tend, watched the riders loping and criss-crossing before them as well, eyes almost misty and voice far away.  He sounded thoughtful and deeply sincere when he answered,  “Let’s just say she reminds me of someone else who was much the same.”

Rogers swallowed hard over the lump that had formed seemingly from nowhere in his throat.  “Your own daughter, Dave?” he husked, voice a bit raspy while he clarified. “…Your Emma?”

David merely nodded, clearly not trusting his voice for the moment.  He didn’t meet the dark haired man’s all-too-intuitive gaze, as for the moment he was putting up a valiant fight not to shed real tears in front of his new friend – and also somehow a version of his son-in-law – at the usually buried emotions that had risen quickly to the surface without warning as he’d been observing his now teenaged son and the two young women he had bonded easily with. Somehow the ghost of his beloved daughter, whom he had never gotten to see at this age had floated once more into his mind’s eye. Though he and Snow had enthusiastically gifted Neal with his first mount, a shaggy brown pony affectionately named Cocoa and still with them, retired to pasture and often found lazing under a shade tree in the paddock’s corner with Wilby the Second by his side, for their son’s eighth birthday and shown him every detail of how to feed, groom, saddle, ride, and cool down his steed with as much delight as the boy himself, none of that painstaking care could erase the fact that he hadn’t been able to do the same for his eldest until she was his own age and a mother herself.  When he had finally taken Emma riding, it was only after her repeated, determined insistence that there was no need (probably only overcome by her husband’s gentle persuasion that ‘one never knew; it might come in handy’ and the leering jest he didn’t realize his father-in-law had overheard about the ‘pleasant bonus that the rocking motion one enjoyed in a full canter wasn’t unlike that of other, more enjoyable activities’ – to which, at his winking nod, Emma had capitulated and agreed to give riding a try) and that she didn’t require any help.  Painfully, David had to watch without offering the fatherly assistance he could have and see her frustration turn into anger as several attempts at mounting the horse led to a fall flat on her backside in the dirt and a hot, sweaty, irritated Sheriff seated in the saddle, and it wasn’t until a frightening moment of nearly being dragged by her startled horse when Emma dismounted with her wrist somehow tangled in the reins, thumped into her steed’s side with enough force to spook him and send him skittering with her still connected – his heart had been in his throat and David was still thanking the gods that he’d been lingering close enough to latch onto the spooked creature’s bridle before it could take off in earnest – and the resultant sprained wrist that left Emma on desk duty and forced to watch he and Killian take on the more physical jobs in the sheriff station for nearly two weeks, that Emma had finally accepted his instruction willingly and mastered riding.  Though he wouldn’t take back the time it had allowed him to spend with her – they had less now that Killian and she often patrolled together since he’d joined their Storybrooke “force” as a second deputy and he’d gone part-time to be home when Neal returned from school in the afternoons, handle the evening farm chores, and help Snow in the evenings as she often had numerous papers to grade along with older students and more complex subject matter – thankful for once that the princess moment he had imagined for his daughter could be somewhat recovered from the pile of so many forever lost, David couldn’t help thinking how much easier it would have been to teach her as she should have been: an eager, trusting child on a pony just her size, handpicked specifically for her, and in a world where riding was necessary and had daily, obvious use.

He shook his head free of the encroaching, unwanted melancholy thoughts at the sound of Rogers’ voice breaking through, a resigned bit of sadness tingeing his words, “ ‘Twill never really go away, will it?” Alice’s father asked softly, having clearly waited until his child had looped around closer to him with a wide, ecstatic smile spread across her face, eyes alight as she called out enthusiastically, ‘Look, Papa!  We’re riding!  Isn’t it wonderful?!?’ and then rode away again, before speaking.

Blinking, David forced himself fully back into the present, chuckling as he saw Alice nearing Neal and Robyn again and Neal attempting to impress both young ladies by galloping full speed right to the edge of the trees, only to stand on the moving horse’s back, right up to a sturdy, low-hanging branch and swing into the tree in one fluid motion. His mount was well-trained and used to his antics, merely turning when he felt his rider’s weight gone and trotting back to where Neal could drop onto his back lightly once again.  Both Robyn and Alice whooped and clapped at his antics, causing Neal to flush brightly even as he grinned and offered them a seated partial bow.

Shaking his head, David knew he should once again warn his son not to become overconfident and lose care when riding, but he couldn’t say too much, when he knew he had probably practiced similar tactics when he and Snow had taken to the forest long ago, on the run from – and then fighting back against – two dangerously powerful usurper monarchs.  Instead, he turned his attention back to Rogers’ query.  “What won’t go away?” he asked, though he sensed he was already well aware of the answer.

The other man’s gaze fell to his feet, swallowing deliberately before replying, “The regret… the sense that you failed your child, that she had to get by on her own, without you… without anyone.  And though…” he licked his lip, as if needing to pause and moisten them again, gather his thoughts and emotions before he could continue, “…though you would have given anything to be there when she needed you… it doesn’t change the fact that you missed so much – too much – of her life.”

David nodded, shielding his eyes with his hands as he gazed out to the tree line and somewhat into the setting sun.  Though the sandy-haired royal was squinting and not directly meeting his eyes, the recently retired detective could work out the real reason easily enough and took no offense.  Both of their emotions were far too close to the surface, and perhaps Dave sensed neither of them need bear the full scrutiny of the other’s eye while they made confessions held so close to the heart – not when each had possibly found comfort in the only other listening ear who could possibly understand the burden he carried.  Losing a child – knowing that child was still a young, vulnerable little girl, left alone in the world to fend for herself, when as a father both of them felt charged with protecting her – was a sort of pain one didn’t shake.  It wasn’t easily purged nor commiserated with – unless one found another person who had made a similar such sacrifice.

When the prince did speak, his words were quietly measured as though offered with much careful thought and the wisdom of experience.  “Do I ever know what you mean there,” he offered with a gentle shake of his head, hand lowering to his side before continuing, “Still, no matter how much we might wish it, we can’t go back.  None of us can change our pasts, for better or worse.  All we can do – and we can aim for – is to be here for them now; really live in the present and hope to give all they need as young adults.  There’s no way to make up for what we missed in their childhoods, but we can appreciate the moments we still have.  I told Emma that once – even if I can’t help but have regrets and forget it myself sometimes.  Life is made up of moments – good and bad – and the good ones aren’t all gone.  Even quiet, simpler moments are worthwhile, and that’s what we have more of before us now, if we’ll take them.”

Rogers nodded to that thoughtfully, silent other than the quiet affirmation, and his eyes focused somewhere off in the middle distance, partially watching his mostly-grown daughter happy and at ease, and partially in his mind or memory, in a time that could no longer be reached. “Aye,” was the simple response he offered when he seemed to return from his reverie.  “I believe my counterpart here, your son-in-law, even mentioned that to me when last we spoke in town.  Your daughter must have taken your advice to heart.  He said they’ve made it a bit of a family motto – to live for those moments.”

David Nolan offered a small smile, the pleased expression lighting his visage as he nodded along with what his new friend told him.  It was infinitely good to know he had still managed to impart a little fatherly wisdom to his grown child.  No matter how old Emma was or how long he lived, he would still endeavor to do so when he could. Even if, much like the young people they watched reveling before them, calling to each other uproariously and laughing in the gentle early evening breeze, he mostly had to loosen his grip, let his eldest have her head and find her own way in the world, it was never an easy task for a doting father to manage.

Giving one more small, pragmatic quirk of the mouth toward his new mate, David turned and raised his arm, giving the motion to come in for the evening to the youths before them, watching with pride as Neal read his signal, wheeled his steed around, and began to lead his companions back in a race across the pasture.

It was at least some small comfort to see the light of understanding in his companion’s gaze – those startlingly blue eyes displaying the same amalgam of bittersweet melancholy and gentle pride as the three riders drew near that David knew must haunt his own.  He supposed that if he must let go, it was better to have another father at his side struggling to do the same and experiencing a matching sense of pain and reward that came with allowing one’s children to grow up and fly free.  Though the time they could hold them close and shield them from the world had been stolen from them – and it was tempting to cling too tight in response – it was a process, releasing that hold and turning them loose… made all the more treasured in those moments when their offspring chose to return.

Tagging a few I hope will enjoy: @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @flslp87 @hollyethecurious @spartanguard @searchingwardrobes @branlovesouat @jennjenn615 @celestial-fire-writer @gingerchangeling @laschatzi @jackieorioncat @duathadun @blackwidownat2814 @winterbaby89 @revanmeetra87 @ultraluckycatnd @bromfieldhall @flipperbrain @capswantrue @kiwistreetswan @wordsmith-storyweaver @psymplemind @snidgetsafan @linda8084 @bmbbcs4evr @aloha-4-ever @scientificapricot @laughswaytoomuch @vvbooklady1256

[snowbellewells]

@best-left-hook-jones I am sorry it has been some time since this was posted, but now that I have found this, I must tell you how lovely it is!! The code Wish!Hook has taught his young daughter, their sneaked in chess game and his promise to stay with her, the clear affection and adoration between father and daughter. It’s so beautiful and so touching. There’s a real bravery in these good moments they find, even if the overall situation is tragic. There’s so much about how they were separated, how his heart was cursed, and so on that I hope the show will take time to tell us. But if not, fic like this gives me hope that authors like you will find a perfect way to fill in the blanks and warm out hearts.

A Long Way Down

A/N: I may have gotten ridiculously emotional at 4am last night thinking about Wish!Killian and his daughter. Then this happened. Completely unbeta’d and written on a serious lack of sleep, so forgive me for any errors.

AO3

The moon shone bright overhead as Killian snuck up to the base of the tall tower. In any other circumstances, the captain would have felt exposed by it, but the thick brush and vines that extended the length of tower provided the perfect cover. Anyways, he was certain that the coast was clear; he had spent the past few hours making damn sure of it, in fact.

A quick flash of light, followed by two long ones, two short ones, and another long one, repeated over and over. Just as he’d taught her.

Mindful of the sharp thorns that protruded in the usual areas from the web-like growth, Killian began scaling the stone wall of the tower. It was a climb he had made numerous times before, and he would have sworn he could have made it to the top window just as quickly even without the glowing sky to guide him. Still, he found himself nearly puffing with exertion as he hauled himself through the paneless window, rolling over the edge and collapsing in a graceless heap on the stone floor.

Keep reading

[stark-park]

Decisions, Decisions -Knightrook Oneshot

The time had finally come. The day she'd been waiting for since they bought the newspaper and ripped out the coupons.

“This is gonna be the best!” Tilly beamed. She bounced along the pavement barely containing herself.

“I’m not sure-“ Rogers started, before she rambled on excitedly.

“Oh my goodness!” She gasped, “What should I get though? There’s so many choices. So many decisions. What are you getting? What should I get? What will I like? Do I know what I like though? What if I don’t like it?”

“Stop stressing.” He told her, putting a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She did work herself up over the most silliest of things, but he couldn’t help but smile. She was being over-analytical about trying something new and he was so pleased to get to do it with her.

“I’m sure they’ll let you try some first.” He added, hoping it would further relax her tensing shoulders.

She sighed, his words filling her with reasonable assurance. She was just excited. It was something new, she didn’t want to ruin it. Especially since it was free, well, cheaper.

They could’ve gone earlier. They could’ve done this ages ago and enjoyed it for the first time then, but it wouldn’t have been free, cheaper, and if there was something they both loved, it was a great bargain.

After much deliberation and free samples, it finally came down to the decision making.

“So?” Rogers asked her.

“I don’t know. They’re just too good to decide.” She mumbled, biting the plastic spoon as her brain overthought every aspect, every pro and con.

“Come on, you’ve got to make up your mind, we can’t spend all day in here.” He said.

“Can’t… can't I just have both?” She asked eventually.

“You only have two free coupons.” The cashier reminded them.

Tilly twisted her face at the dilemma.

“Then we want those two please.” Rogers stated, handing over the coupons without a seconds thought.

“But…” Tilly protested, thinking he’d made a selfless decision for her. She couldn’t have him give up his choice just for her inability to decide on her favourite one.

“Oh don’t worry, we’ll just have to share.” He replied.

They sat at the table by the front window, watching all the people busying themselves with chores and errands on what was the pair’s lazy Sunday afternoon.

“Ah!” Rogers held his head, “Bloody brain freeze!”

Tilly giggled, while he battled against the mild pain she took a scoop of the rum and raisin ice cream.

“Mmm, goes well with orange marmalade!” She grinned, digging back into her own half of the marmalade flavoured ice cream.

“Yeah,” Rogers smiled to himself, watching her practically lick the colour off her spoon, “This ice cream’s pretty good."

[stark-park]

Trick or Treat! -Knightrook Oneshot

A simple prompt from @fezfanatic saying “trick or treat!”

Rogers felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning around, his eyes fell upon a sight he certainly was not expecting that evening.

“Trick or treat!” Tilly sang. She beamed up at him, the top half of her face covered by her rabbit mask.

Rogers raised an eyebrow, “Um… Tilly?” He knew it was her, he could identify that voice anywhere, but he was so confused he couldn’t quite carry on his intended question.

“Detective!” She smiled back, holding open a carrier bag in an expectance of some form of treat.

“Tilly, you’re meant to knock on people’s doors, not their shoulders.” Rogers replied, finally managing to gather his thoughts in order to answer with a full sentence.

“I know, but where’s the fun in that?” She answered, lifting her mask and giving him a cheeky grin, “Besides, this ways more personal.”

“Yes, but I don’t have any candy.” He explained.

“Well, that just means you get to be more creative Detective.” She told him matter-of-factly, as if it was his fault he followed the usual system of Halloween giving.

“I guess you could just give me your watch then.” She continued.

Ah, now the cat was out of the bag, or, the rabbit rather. This was a stitch up apparently.

“Tilly,” Rogers sighed, “Nice try, but I’m rather attached to my watch.”

“Aw, that’s alright Detective, if you unclip it then it’ll come straight off your wrist.” She explained.

Rogers adjusted his weight and placed his hand on his hip. “Tilly, I’m not giving you my watch. Now why don’t you go home, have a sandwich? Trick or treating is over.”

“What?” She gasped, “Since when is it over?”

Rogers sighed, “Since Halloween was three weeks ago.” He then carried on walking down the road, waving a goodbye over his shoulder.

Tilly huffed, “Still more fun my way.”

[kmomof4]

Beautiful exploration of Daddy Charming and KnightRook feels. Well done Marta!

Let the Reins Go Loose

This is a new experiment for me, but I am attempting to write a bit of a daddies bonding one shot for Wish!Hook/Rogers and David/Charming.  I didn’t do much writing that actually followed along with the season 7 storyline while it was happening. (Not that I didn’t like it, I was just doing more straight AU or imagining what could be happening with CS back in Storybrooke.)  However, if all of the realms are now joined, I could see Wish!Hook and his daughter (and Robyn) spending some time with our original cast in Storybrooke. I can also imagine Rogers/Wish!Hook and David Nolan becoming mates and having a lot in common, just as Charming did with Killian Jones before him.  So, I offer you this little bit of papa angst and friendship/understanding for Captain Charming Friday – though it’s really more of a Rogers Charming brotp (if that’s even a thing! ;)

“Let the Reins Go Loose”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

Chuckling lightly, Joel Rogers shook his head in happy disbelief watching the three horses and their young riders cantering through the tall grass in the late spring meadow.  Tilting his head back to savor the light breeze caressing his face and tickling through the short tufts of his dark hair, the man both a former detective and former pirate, still enjoyed a comforting distant hint of salt sea air in the gust, even though they were some distance from his beloved ocean waves.

The other man standing just to his right clapped a strong hand to Rogers’ shoulder companionably, offering a brilliant smile as well to his new friend.  “See? Didn’t I tell you not to worry?” he offered in that deep, jovial voice, an assured resonance that allowed the former police officer from Hyperion Heights a glimpse into just why an entire realm’s subjects would follow this man as King without hesitation.  Though Dave Nolan bore none of the selfish, cruel, and egotistic traits of most other rulers in Hook’s long experience over two lives’ worth of memories, there was a certainty, a leadership, that radiated from the shepherd-king and which one inherently trusted.  “I had a feeling she’d be a natural.”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow quizzically at his mate, before turning his attention back once more to his Alice, Robyn Mills, and Dave’s son Neal, enjoying their horseback riding in the large field just at the edge of the deep woods – the marker where Storybrooke melted into the old Enchanted Forest on the east and Arendelle’s borders to the north. “And just how did you ascertain that?” he questioned playfully.

The sandy-haired deputy (part-time these days) looked more at ease than ever, spending most of his time as a simple country farmer with some sheep to tend, watched the riders loping and criss-crossing before them as well, eyes almost misty and voice far away.  He sounded thoughtful and deeply sincere when he answered,  “Let’s just say she reminds me of someone else who was much the same.”

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[jennjenn615]

Ahh love this!!! What a great story!!!! A great way to wake up this morning!!!!!

Let the Reins Go Loose

This is a new experiment for me, but I am attempting to write a bit of a daddies bonding one shot for Wish!Hook/Rogers and David/Charming.  I didn’t do much writing that actually followed along with the season 7 storyline while it was happening. (Not that I didn’t like it, I was just doing more straight AU or imagining what could be happening with CS back in Storybrooke.)  However, if all of the realms are now joined, I could see Wish!Hook and his daughter (and Robyn) spending some time with our original cast in Storybrooke. I can also imagine Rogers/Wish!Hook and David Nolan becoming mates and having a lot in common, just as Charming did with Killian Jones before him.  So, I offer you this little bit of papa angst and friendship/understanding for Captain Charming Friday – though it’s really more of a Rogers Charming brotp (if that’s even a thing! ;)

“Let the Reins Go Loose”

By: snowbellewells (TutorGirlml on ff.net)

Chuckling lightly, Joel Rogers shook his head in happy disbelief watching the three horses and their young riders cantering through the tall grass in the late spring meadow.  Tilting his head back to savor the light breeze caressing his face and tickling through the short tufts of his dark hair, the man both a former detective and former pirate, still enjoyed a comforting distant hint of salt sea air in the gust, even though they were some distance from his beloved ocean waves.

The other man standing just to his right clapped a strong hand to Rogers’ shoulder companionably, offering a brilliant smile as well to his new friend.  “See? Didn’t I tell you not to worry?” he offered in that deep, jovial voice, an assured resonance that allowed the former police officer from Hyperion Heights a glimpse into just why an entire realm’s subjects would follow this man as King without hesitation.  Though Dave Nolan bore none of the selfish, cruel, and egotistic traits of most other rulers in Hook’s long experience over two lives’ worth of memories, there was a certainty, a leadership, that radiated from the shepherd-king and which one inherently trusted.  “I had a feeling she’d be a natural.”

Rogers cocked an eyebrow quizzically at his mate, before turning his attention back once more to his Alice, Robyn Mills, and Dave’s son Neal, enjoying their horseback riding in the large field just at the edge of the deep woods – the marker where Storybrooke melted into the old Enchanted Forest on the east and Arendelle’s borders to the north. “And just how did you ascertain that?” he questioned playfully.

The sandy-haired deputy (part-time these days) looked more at ease than ever, spending most of his time as a simple country farmer with some sheep to tend, watched the riders loping and criss-crossing before them as well, eyes almost misty and voice far away.  He sounded thoughtful and deeply sincere when he answered,  “Let’s just say she reminds me of someone else who was much the same.”

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[kmomof4]

Agreed!!!!

It’s alright

Just a teeny Hooking Utensil moment of cuteness… cos they be cute!

“Knock knock!” Rogers greeted cheerily as he boarded the back of the rollin’ bayou.

“Hey. Tilly’s already gone.” Sabine sighed, too busy with scrubbing the fryer to turn to him.

“I’m aware. Margot has apparently whisked her away so I thought i’d come and see if there were any beignets going spare?” he joked.

It had become a part of his daily routine, whether it be to pick up or drop off Tilly, or to just see Sabine, he enjoyed checking up and stopping by for conversation.

“Fresh out.” she informed him. She paused momentarily to address him. “Hey look, i’m not the best company right now.”

Rogers became concerned. He could see she was clearly out of sorts and anything he could do to help, he would.

“What’s wrong?”

Sabine let out another huff before continuing to scrub. “What’s right! Jacinda is all up in the air, Lucy’s on some worrying secret mission… and i’m trying to be there for them and be supportive but this truck is a lot harder to run than I thought it would be and I-”

Sabine slammed the scourer down and rubbed her hands over her face.

“I’m sorry-just- can we pick up again tomorrow? I just… i’m sorry.”

Rogers saw the slight shame and sadness as she picked up the scourer and continued scrubbing.

She was strong. This woman, trying to be a great friend, a supportive aunt, a successful business woman and chef… yet no one could see she was at breaking point.

He could feel the distress rolling off her in waves.

She needed a break.

Rogers studied her for a moment longer before quietly turning to the serving counter. He collected the trays of plastic utensils and put them away before spraying the surface with disinfectant and wiping it down generously. Sabine turned to see what he was doing and couldn’t find the words to question him. She was too tired to protest and in all honesty… she was grateful.

They worked in silence, cleaning down the truck and packing away all of the equipment, ready to be used again the following day. Sabine couldn’t help sneaking glances at the detective, wondering how an officer of the law could just pick up a cloth and get to work after a full day’s shift… with no prompts whatsoever.

In no time at all, the bayou was sparkling and ready for another day.

Rogers threw the last wad of paper towel in the trash and turned to find Sabine staring at him.

“Thank you.” she told him earnestly. “I mean it. That really helped-”

“Hey.” He cooed, noticing the tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s alright.”

It was a natural reaction to reach out and pull her in, and the moment his arm looped around her shoulders, she sank against his chest and let out a sigh. All the tension seeped from her as he held her close.

They stood in silence, simply holding each other. Relishing in how good it felt to be held, to be supported.

To be comforted.

She could’ve fallen asleep at the soft caress his hand drew idly up and down her back.

After a few moments of peace, Sabine regretfully pulled back.

“It’s getting late. Jay will be wondering where I am.”

Rogers suddenly became bashful, trying to find the right wording.

“You’ve got my number, you know, you can call me anytime. You don’t have to bottle things up. If you ever want to talk…”

Sabine smiled and reached up to place a kiss on his stubbled cheek. She almost chuckled at the way he seemed to grow a deeper shade of crimson.  

“I appreciate it.”

“Goodnight, Sabine.” He smiled shyly, stepping back and towards the bayou door.

“Night, detective.”

Sabine watched him go and turned to grab her bag.

It hadn’t solved all of her problems, but one small act of kindness combined with one moment of solace had taken a huge weight off her shoulders.

She’d found her smile again.

And suddenly her problems didn’t seem so dreadful.