#spinner!Rum

[velvetkisscs]

Is It Casual Now ? - PSH SMAU

chapter 4: no further dicussions (1.3k)

──౨ৎ｡⋆ 𝓬ontains: cussing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly) , teasing, more bickering (are we even surprised atp?) likes, reblogs, comments, and feedbacks are appreciated. rude comments will be ignored, reported, and deleted.

with lights blazing, music thumping, and laughter resonating off the walls, the party is in full swing. you find yourself settling in a corner with your group of friends, attempting to unwind following a stressful week.

sipping a cup of beer across the room was sunghoon. his friends had eventually forced him to go, even though he had refused knowing you would be there.

“still can’t keep your eyes off her, huh?” jay teased.

sunghoon rolled his eyes. “i have no idea what you’re talking about”

“he’s not wrong. you’re staring hard” jake added.

sunghoon stands up, “i think you two are out of your heads. i’m gonna get myself something to drink”

coincidentally, you and sunghoon found yourselves heading in the same direction; towards the makeshift bar found on the kitchen island.

“great, it’s you again.” you muttered under your breath. “definitely what i needed.”

“here to ruin my night?” sunghoon shot back, his lips curling into a small smirk, unknowingly.

“only if you insist on standing in my way”, you retorted, giving him a slight shove.

“ladies first,” he said, stepping aside. he watches as you pour yourself a drink. “what is that godawful concoction you’re making?”

leaning towards the counter, you rolled your eyes. “something that will hopefully help me forget this conversation.”

sunghoon scoff, leaning on the counter next to you. “care to make me one too?”

“do i look like your bartender?” you retort.

you watch as sunghoon reach through the assortment of bottles spread across the table. if he wasn’t so distracted by how good you look right now, maybe he would’ve paid attention and remembered the bottles you used. before he could even continue, you swat his hand away, doing it yourself. swiftly mixing different kinds of liquor, you create a replica of what you have in your cup, a red drink.

“not bad,” he admitted

“didn’t know you had a taste for poison” you said sarcastically.

“guess i built up a tolerance after being around you” he said, matching your sarcasm.

“that’s potent stuff,” you warn, leaning closer. you didn’t know if it was gin, tequila or rum but whatever it is, it’s giving you courage to lean this close to him. “wouldn’t want you passing out before the fun starts.”

“oh don’t worry about me,” he replies, matching your closeness. “i’ve handled worse.”

“still nursing your hurt ego i see.” you say, moving away from his face.

with a raised eyebrow, he let out a scoff. “my ego is doing just fine, thanks. how’s your perpetual state of denial?”

“thriving, actually” you shot back, with a grin across your face. “thanks for asking.”

“anything new? besides that ‘hot date’ you had?” sunghoon quipped, making you roll your eyes.

“oh you know, the usual. classes, life, and avoiding exes at parties,” you snapped back, taking your drink up to your lips. “what about you? still trying to figure out how to be less annoying?”

“funny, i was just about to ask you the same thing,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

clem and sunoo appear out of nowhere.

“YN, SUNGHOON, TWISTER!” sunoo exclaims, gently grabbing your wrist and sunghoon.

“oh i’m not gonna do this,” you protest, but clem is already pushing you towards the mat.

“one game! it’ll be fun! you’re my partner!” clem insists, shooting a look at sunghoon who seems equally hesitant. "please? sunoo and i have been lining up for this game." you find yourself unable to back out due to the peer pressure.

“alright… one round,” stepping onto the mat. sunghoon follows, his eyes scanning the twister mat. the spinner is set and the game begins.

“left hand, blue!” someone shouts. you and clem quickly place your hands on the blue spots, sunghoon and sunoo too. your competitive side flares up immediately.

“right foot, red!” “right hand, yellow!” “left foot, green!” …

the game progresses, and soon you find yourself in awkward and compromising positions. you twist your body to follow the calls. the mat becomes a tangled mess, and you find yourself uncomfortably close to sunghoon.

“left foot, blue!” someone calls out. soon enough, clem and sunoo struggle to keep up, losing balance, leaving you and sunghoon on the mat.

“right hand, green!” as you move, your arm grazes sunghoon’s chest, and you both freeze for a moment, faces dangerously close. you both made eye contact, and you notice a hint of blush creeping up his cheeks.

“you’re blushing” sunghoon points out, a smirk forming on his lips.

“it’s the alcohol,” you snap, breaking eye contact. you know it’s a lie which makes your face feel even hotter than it already was. at this point, you’re sure he can see through your facade.

“mhm, sure it is,” he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

the mat feels even smaller now, every move bringing you closer to him. “left hand, green!” you twist awkwardly, your body crossing over his. your face, mere inches apart from his, you can feel his breath on your skin.

“enjoying yourself?” he teases.

“not with you around.” trying to ignore him.

“right foot, yellow” you both move again. you two are so close to each other, you could see every single fleck of mole on his face.

“you look like you’re about to pass out,” he taunts, eyes flickering with amusement.

“screw you,” you whisper yelled, making your face flush even more.

“you wish,” he quipped.

the proximity is too much, you can practically feel his skin brush against yours. the air is thick with so much tension.

“right hand, blue!”

“if you weren’t such a jerk, this game would’ve been more fun” you mutter

“if you weren’t such a pain in the ass, i’d agree,” he snaps back.

the game continues, each move bringing you closer. you didn’t want to lose against him, and he didn’t want to lose against you. until the inevitable happens. in a tangle of limbs, sunghoon loses his balance. time seems to slow down as he topples forward, making you question yourself if you’re inside a fanfic. (you kinda are...) sunghoon lands on top of you, the weight of his body presses you down, and his face a few centimeters away from yours.

for a moment, everything stops. the whole party around you feels like a blur, the noise fading into the background, and all you can see is him. his eyes search yours, feeling his breath on your lips, so close that one move can leave the two of you exchanging kisses. your breath hitches, and you can see a similar reaction in his eyes. his gaze drops to your cherry wine lips, and you feel a surge of panic and something else– a feel of thrill?

sunghoon’s face flushes deepr, and you’re sure yours mirrors it. “are you seriously blushing right now?” you point out.

“the alcohol must’ve hit me a little late.” sunghoon pats himself on the back even after coming up with a lame excuse.

before you can respond, your brain FINALLY catches up with the whole situation. you’re lying on the floor, at a campus party, with sunghoon– your ex, on top of you. your friends are likely watching the entire scene. you snap back to reality, shoving him away.

“get off,” you manage to say, your voice shaking.

as if coming out of a trance, sunghoon blinks, quickly rolling off you. he stands up and offers a hand to help you up, but you ignore it, standing up just fine on your own. you see the crowd around you exchanging glances, some had their hands covering their mouths, some giggling, but that didn’t bother you. you don’t even know who won the game, not like you could give two shits. all you can focus on is the lingering sensation of his body against yours and the loud thumping of your heart.

clem rushes over, eyes wide with shock. “oh my gosh?”

“let's not...” avoiding eye contact with your best friend.

<<< prev masterlist next >>>

a/n: hey guys i'm back! i'm so sorry for the sudden "hiatus"... enha's comeback and my birthday fell on the same week so i've been busy going out and haven't had the time to update this ff... i will be uploading another chapter before the end of this week so i can be back on track! i hope you guys like this chapter! we are so close to the drama part!

. 𖦹˙— ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘ ✩࿐࿔

taglist: open

📌: @sunoostripletriple @yoizhrs @leov3rse @heelee-01 @naviiy @ramenoil @mitmit01 @luvrseung @river-demon-slayer @wonwoos-wineparty @sumzysworld @sngleehee @jayhoonvroom @lovebuglissas @tanisha2060

[send a comment/ask! no empty blogs, must be 18+]

[runixa]

Another pair finished. These are my migraine projects. Plain toe up with a heel flap.

The yarn is west Yorkshire spinners 4 ply. In rum paradise.

I really enjoyed the self striping thing.

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

TH Characters and Crochet

TH Masterlist

This concept was prompted by my new hobby and led to some very interesting (and, in my opinion, good) plot points. Henceforth, I might turn some of these wee ideas into full-fledged one-shots. For now, though, enjoy!

Tag List: @potter-solomons @buttercupsandboys @zablife @mollybegger-blog @liliac-dreamer @vir-tual @rose-like-the-phoenix @babaohhhriley @solomons-finest-rum @hoodeddreams13 @moral-terpitude @onlydeadcells @hecatemoon87 @wandawiccan60 @dreamlandcreations

Tommy Conlon

The art of crochet is an absolute mystery to him. Nevertheless, though he won’t admit it plainly since he’s been raised and trained to keep his emotions in check, he absolutely loves and adores the husky you made him.

It had been another fretful night, one that leaves you alone in the bed and him either wandering about the beach nearby or leads to a night of training at the boxing school. Either way, Tommy shut you out yet again, refusing to show you even a glimpse of the chaos he carries with him.

Later that day, the short night was followed by an equally as plagued nap. It's that he woke up before it was too late, but otherwise he'd have fallen off of the sofa and face planted into the soft carpet (which you had bought after the one time that actually did happen). Now, it’s his snuggle buddy and you’ve noticed it’s helped with the nightmares caused by his PTSD. So nowadays the silence when you come home after work is laced by soft snoring, an oddly comforting sound that stems from the most heartwarming sight.

Tommy, tightly holding on to his husky as he snuggles it. His ear phones are connected to his laptop, an ASMR video with rain sounds displayed on the screen.

Perfectly content.

At rest.

Alfie Solomons

You were already magical in his eyes, but the fact you can create stuff out of yarn makes you even more so. He still thinks your hooks look uncannily like embalming tools, but he adores the scarf you made him. He wears it whenever he can, loving the texture as well as your scent.

Alfie proudly promotes your stuff wherever he goes and helps you set up at markets. He’d like for you to do only markets in Margate and Camden so he can keep a close eye on you. However, should it be anywhere else, rest assured he’ll hang around the area and make sure you eat and drink properly. He’ll literally pop by a Prêt-A-Manger to buy lunch and deliver it to you or, as is more often the case, pull you away from your stall so you two can sit down in a coffee shop or restaurant together.

He loves it whenever you text him to provide him with photos of a new project you completed. Lastly, Alfie also always asks what you’re working on.

Forrest Bondurant

He’s actually the one who taught you how to crochet (and secretly adored how shyly you asked him to teach you). He’s a stern teacher, but a good one. Forrest is a man of many hidden talents (like baking, he makes a mean apple pie). Then again, so is his brother Howard, who is great at knitting. Jack, on the other hand, has skipped out on the creative gene though he’s been trying to teach himself how to sew.

Forrest and you do markets together. However, he mostly does the general set-up while you busy yourself with the customers. Because even though he’s very business savvy, the quiet force behind Little Moonshiners (specialized in the cutest handmade stuffies) is in fact a social disaster.

He does like talking to you, though.

(And has made you a custom wolf stuffie, which has become your all-time favourite)

Eddie Brock

Eddie and Venom alike love the stuffies you make, but V thinks his host sometimes takes his support of your hobby a bit too far. Recently, he’s asked you to teach him and ever since you’ve been trying to figure it out together. Eddie seems to finally have the basic stitches down while Venom is bordering on giving up. Not even reading the body language of his host makes him understand crochet. So he’s now your ultimate yarn spinner.

Eddie, on the other hand, has become a little competitive. Though he tries to be inconspicuous, you occasionally catch him glancing your way in an attempt to estimate whether your way of crocheting a certain project is more efficient and neater than his. To this extent, he proposes to try a new pattern together (and compare the results).

He does admit, without a second’s doubt, you’re the queen of plushies.

Eddie loves the journaling aspect of it too. He keeps a neat and very minimalist journal. Well, he tries to be minimalist and objective (as his work has taught him to be), but often finds himself writing about you, pondering your opinion on his works.

And Venom loves to tease him about said entries by mentioning them to you.

Farrier

He’s loath to admit it, but he can’t help but think of his Nan whenever he sees you crochet. The confession almost slipped out when you gave him a cream coloured crocheted turtleneck sweater for Christmas, the reason you puzzled him with taking measurements three months earlier. And it’s this turtleneck he wears quite often and takes with him whenever he’s sent abroad.

Because your scent lingers in it, mixed with his.

Because it’s a piece of home.

It’s you when you aren’t there.

And it’s the only thing that’ll prevent him from crying when he's so far from home it feels like his heart is torn apart at the seams.

Reggie Kray

Reggie loves to watch you work. He doesn’t need to understand it, finding perfect contentment in seeing you absolutely absorbed in your projects. He’s simply happy to plop you in his lap and rest his head on your shoulder, though that does little to help you focus on the pattern or the tutorial you’re watching.

He gives the best hand massages too! Whether you asked for one or not, Reggie will give you one regardless after you’ve put the hook down for the time being. Sometimes he even stops you after a certain period of time, knowing how your tight grip can cause your hand to cramp after carefully observing you for a while.

Although he does not say it whenever the topic comes up, he will blatantly admit when riled up enough that part of the reason he wants out of the gangster life is to permanently give you the peace and quiet that surrounds you whenever you crochet.

And stills his inner storm.

Also, have a wee treasure I accidentally found😉

[wastingstarsss]

I finally get polls and this is the first thing I do. Obviously.

[midnasocarina]

Autism Cocktail (well-meaning ally version):

Ice cubes

15ml grenadine

15ml pineapple juice

15ml midori

15ml blue curacao

15ml malibu or bombora

Fidget spinner ice

Fill glass with ice cubes first and pour grenadine over the ice. Slowly pour pineapple juice over the back of a spoon. Repeat with pineapple juice, then midori, then blue curacao, then malibu. Top with fidget spinner ice as a garnish.

Basically a rainbow cocktail with midori and coconut rum. Invokes the impression of the infinity symbol. Build in glass slowly to maintain layers. Ridiculously harsh and tastes like a lolly. Not super autism-friendly.

Autism Cocktail (autism-friendly version):

Ice cubes

15ml strawberry syrup

15ml parfait amor (violet) liqueur

15ml blueberry syrup

15ml banana liqueur

15ml vodka or coconut tequila

15ml cream (can substitute with coconut cream)

Fidget spinner ice

Similar to above. Ice first, then pour strawberry syrup. Build in order as above, pouring each ingredient slowly over the back of the spoon to maintain layers. Garnish with fidget spinner ice.

Probably won't look as pretty or neat as the first recipe, but definitely gentler on the palette and a lot tastier. Same alcohol content, but the tequila and cream make it much smoother and far more autism-friendly!

ice fidget spinner

[abookishdreamer]

Character Intro: Hysminai (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- The Bruised Bombshell by Menoetius

Mama by her daughters

Nana by her grandchildren

Age- 56 (immortal)

Location- Little Sparta, New Olympus

Personality- She's brash, straightforward, and unafraid of confrontation. Her strong personality can be seen as egomaniacal & domineering to others, but she simply doesn't care how she's viewed. She's confidentally single in leading a non-monogamous lifestyle, proclaiming herself to be a "trysexual."

She has the standard abilities of a goddess except shapeshifting. As the goddess of fighting & combat her other powers/abilities include limited telumkinesis, having an innate expertise in battle strategies, being expertly skilled in hand-to-hand combat, and photographic reflexes (can perfectly copy other people's movements, fighting styles, etc...).

Hysminai is the mother to Proioxis (goddess of battle, onrush, & battlefield pursuit) and Palioxis (goddess of backrush & retreat). Other members of her immediate family includes her son-in-law Homadus (god of the battle-din), her granddaughter Anaideia (goddess of ruthlessness, shamelessness, & unforgiveness), and her grandson Olethrus (Olly) (god of havoc).

She lives in a recently purchased four bedroom mansion in the Little Sparta neighborhood of New Olympus. Hysminai purchased it for a steal- three million drachmas! It was previously owned by a cyclops action movie star. She redid the interior design- a mixture of art deco & zen. There's also leather and suede furniture, lacquered & handpainted ornamental pieces, and black marble flooring. Red, gold, purple, & black are major colors as well. Hysminai gets around in a sexy sleek black sports car that has gold chrome spinners.

She's been loving all the attention with the advancements in her career.

A go-to drink for her is a steaming cup of black tea. She also likes rum & cokes, cherry cola cocktails, bloddy marys, sassy sangrias, crantinis, p*rn star cocktails, and red wine. A go-to from The Roasted Bean is a large espresso.

Hysminai takes pride in her toned fit body. More often than not at her house when alone, she loves being nude. She has a dedicated workout regime, but she doesn't deprive herself either. She's at the Power Zone gym on most mornings.

A typical breakfast for her is a bowl of spicy shrimp congee. She'll also go to The Hearthside Diner for a breakfast burrito with extra peppers & chilies.

Hysminai's not ashamed of showing her age with growing out her gray hair.

She has a good relationship with her daughters despite their fiery disagreements. Hysminai doesn't care much about her eldest daughter's situation with her husband, but still supports her.

She doesn't respect her son-in-law at all anymore & on more than one occassion she came to him to ask him to file for divorce. Hysminai is even angrier at the fact that he won't allow Proioxis to take money from her or Palioxis. That hasn't stopped her from secretly giving her daughter a few hundred drachmas each month to help out. They meet on a bench at Eaglepoint Park.

Hysminai loves her grandkids, wishing she was able to see them more often. She likes when they come over her house for a sleepover. Her and Anaideia will go get their nails done & do indoor archery while she'll take little Olly to the petting zoo.

Her favorite dessert is the decadent dark chocolate cake from Hollyhock's Bakery.

She's been thinking about possibly getting a pet chimera!

A go-to thing to get from The Bread Box is an argula and steak salad topped with red pepper flakes and extra balsamic vinegar dressing.

A majority of her income comes from being a professional wrestler. Hysminai performs under the stage name "Karma." She's been gaining popularity with her sexy black leather outfits and her stage presence! Some of moves in the ring include the hurricanrana, the guillotine leg drop, the dragon sleeper, & moonsault splash. An upcoming televised match is between her and Duchess a.k.a Dimósia (goddess of debate). Hysminai also owns a martial arts studio called Warrior's Edge that's located downtown. For other means of income she also models for/endorses Delicious Xtasy and atelier fantaisie. She's also been in Zeus' men's magazine a few times.

A favorite frozen treat of hers is the Cocktails on Ice chocolate cabernet ice cream.

In the pantheon Hysminai's best friend in the pantheon is Amphillogia (goddess of arguments, disputes, & altercations). They spend a lot of time hanging out with each other.

She's also friends with Arktos (goddess of the night sky & constellations), Gymnasia (goddess of exercise & gymnastics), Enyo (goddess of war, destruction, bloodlust, & devastation), Atë (goddess of mischief, ruin, blind folly, delusion, & downfall of heroes), Hybris (goddess of insolence, hubris, & reckless pride), Amechania (goddess of helplessness & want), Menoetius (Titan god of rage, violence, & rash actions), Bronte (goddess of thunder), Pseudologos (god of lies), Astrape (goddess of lightning), Kydoimos (god of uproar & battlefield confusion), Palaestra (goddess of wrestling), Philotes (goddess of sex, friendship, & affection), Empusa (goddess of shapeshifting), and Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity).

Even though she's cool with Homadus' mother Machai (goddess of battlefield combat) especially because they share grandchildren- Hysminai can't help feeling like Machai is not really addressing the issues regarding her son.

Her and a few of her friends had a "mini-celebration" at a bus stop, celebrating a billboard of her (for atelier fantaisie) in the Chant du Cygne neighborhood- a tastefully nude shoot with Hysminai wearing nothing but a pair of red thigh high stiletto heeled boots.

Hybris gifted her a pair of solid gold brass knuckles while Philotes gave her a black Megaleio handbag.

A guilty pleasure for her is the double bacon olympian burger.

Some of her favorite make-up products include the Olmorfia matte lipstick in "Frosted Berry Bronze," a deep violet pink color, the Luxuria shimmering body oil in "Cinnamon Glaze", and the parfum Korýfosi- which has fragrance notes of black vanilla, pink pepper, black amber plum, sandalwood, & musk.

Hysminai has no hang-ups about being single. She enjoys the fact that she can openly and freely procure in all her sexual wants & desires. She once had a four-way with Philotes, Empusa, and Priapus as well as sleeping with him a few times for his online content. Hysminai has a steady lover- a cyclops named Geoffrey & she's also a dominatrix to a satyr named Sebastian (who's the same age as her youngest daughter).

Her all time favorite meal is lo mein with sesame chicken along with her hot pot broth.

In her free time Hysminai enjoys working out, archery, martial arts, boxing, sword dueling, basketball, clubbing, sunbathing, having sex, lava surfing, and spending time with her family.

"If you want to be strong, learn how to fight alone."

[rumbelleshowdown]

-

Showdown 2020 Unused Prompts

Smoke and mirrors

Watching birds courting

At the movies

Double bass & busking

Black tie, purple paint

Sunrise

Ribbon

Ashes

Rain, sweater, mug

Twirling

Auteur

like tears in rain

Thunderstorm

flat tire

Early Spring

Not Now

Lilacs

Someone else knows

Spinner!Rum

Season 1 AU

I'm not even sorry

Need I remind you

In your wildest dreams

 It was a wednesday

 It was the internet 

Google said so 

 All the kisses 

What is this? 

 Looking for something, dearie? 

suitcase, ridiculous, wet, pool

chicken 

Forgetfulness 

Late night phone calls 

Butterfly kisses 

Whiskey Sour Vodka Neat 

 Leather and lace

 Tempest in a teacup. 

Sweet as honey

Race 

Nightfall 

Cloudy

night-time musings

"Come closer."

skin 

Cinnamon Rolls

you missed your curfew

lemon and sugar, please

Regency Romance

 Don't wait for me 

 Losing something precious, despair 

Finding joy a task

creature, plant, boat, glow

Back-to-back

“Come back to me.” 

Breath

Key

Room with a fireplace

A splash of water

Smoke

Nostalgic

-

[robbialy]

„Tid och rum existerar icke; på en obetydlig verklighetsbakgrund spinner inbillningen ut och väver nya mönster; en blandning av minnen, upplevelser, fria påhitt, orimligheter och improvisationer. - Personerna klyvas, fördubblas, dunsta av, förtätas, flyta ut, samlas. Men ett medvetande står över alla, det är drömmarens; för det finns inga hemligheter, ingen konsekvens, inga skrupler, ingen lag.” Ur „Ett Drōmspel”, 1901, #johanauguststrindberg https://www.instagram.com/p/CqEMgFbDqHoYwi-n3bpalxteWIV7etR5kp7t1A0/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[dancingsunflowers-ocs]

Alexandra, my love, may I ask for a WBW with Sydney Berlin?? (And if you wanna send one for one of my characters too, you know... I'm not complaining 😉). 🖤🖤🖤

Thank you Raven!! (@starlit-epiphany/@daughter-of-melpomene) 💕 I’m going to definitely send some to you, right now!! 😉

B A S I C S

full name: Sydney Anne Berlin

gender: Cisgender female

sexuality: Biromantic, asexual (sex-positive)

pronouns: She/her/hers

O T H E R S

family:

Mary Grace Berlin (Mother - Deceased)

Alvin Berlin (Father - Deceased)

Jacob Berlin (Younger Brother - Deceased)

Montgomery "Scotty" Scott (Father Figure)

birthplace: Scotland, Earth

job: Starfleet officer

phobias: Losing loved ones, death, spiders, tight spaces, blood

guilty pleasures: Disney films, cheesy romantic novels, movie musicals, alcohol (especially rum and lemonade cocktails), American sitcoms, 1990’s boybands, pancakes with maple syrup, fidget spinners, cute animal videos, chocolate

M O R A L S

morality alignment?: Lawful Good

sins��- lust/greed/gluttony/sloth/pride/envy/wrath

virtues - chastity/charity/diligence/humility/kindness/patience/justice

T H I S - O R - T H A T

introvert/extrovert: both

organized/disorganized: organised

close minded/open-minded: open-minded

calm/anxious: both

disagreeable/agreeable: disagreeable

cautious/reckless: cautious

patient/impatient: impatient

outspoken/reserved: both

leader/follower: follower

empathetic/unemphatic: empathetic

optimistic/pessimistic: pessimistic

traditional/modern: modern

hard-working/lazy: hard-working

R E L A T I O N S H I P S

otp: Sydney Berlin x Pavel Chekov

ot3: Sydney Berlin x Pavel Chekov x Hikaru Sulu

brotp: Sydney Berlin x Nyota Uhura x Christine Chapel

notp: Sydney Berlin x Montgomery "Scotty" Scott

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Building and Rebuilding

Summary: Rumpelstiltskin finds a young woman by the side of the road on his way home from the market. She has no memory of who she is or where she’s come from, but it’s obvious that she’s a noblewoman, and even as he takes her home to care for her, he knows she will not be able to stay. Or will she?

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling September moodboard prompt, available here.

Rated: T

Building and Rebuilding

Ever since he had first found her in the forest, Rumpelstiltskin knew that this day would come. He had known that Belle would not be able to stay with them forever, even if she did not know it herself at the time. 

It had been a perfectly normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened. The reports from the front lines of the ogre wars were becoming ever bleaker. More and more towns and villages were falling in the path of the brutes, and everyone in the Frontlands was becoming increasingly nervous that the war would come to them much sooner than anticipated.

For his own part, Rumpelstiltskin was mainly concerned about the constantly lowering age of conscription. Bae was only eleven, still too young to be drafted and dragged away, but within the past six months the age had already lowered from twenty-one, down to nineteen, down to eighteen, and now down to seventeen. How long would it be before the soldiers were taking babes in arms to use as fodder for the ogres?

The straggling lines of refugees moving through the Frontlands on the main roads had been an ever-present sight ever since the wars had begun, but now not a day went by when caravans were not seen. 

Rumpelstiltskin’s heart always went out to those he saw. These were people who had lost everything to the war, their only possessions the things that they could carry on their backs or in the few carts that they had managed to salvage from the ogres’ destruction. Although he had lost so much as a result of the war, at least he still had his home, and his income from spinning, and above all, he still had Bae. He dreaded to think how many of the refugees on the road had lost loved ones. 

For the most part they kept their heads down, trudging towards a destination that they did not yet know what it was. They still had enough pride not to beg for provisions or shelter, perhaps knowing that the villages they were passing through had been hit hard by the crops being razed, but whenever Rumpelstiltskin had offered them what little he could when he passed them on the roads on his way to the market, he had been accepted gratefully. 

It was on one of these market excursions that he had found her. The night had long since fallen and the roads were quiet, but far from empty. He wouldn’t even have noticed her if he hadn’t had to jump into the hedgerow to avoid being run down by a war waggon thundering along, taking supplies and fresh soldiers to the front lines as fast as it could go. He had tripped over her, literally, lying in the ditch at the side of the road. 

Although she was battered and bruised and covered in mud and twigs, Rumpelstiltskin could see from the quality of her clothing that she was a high-born lady, and he wondered how she had come to be by the side of the road. There was a bloody gash on the side of her head where she had fallen, and she groaned as she came round. 

“Can you move?” There wasn’t a lot of point in asking her if she was hurt; that was obvious. Rumpelstiltskin wondered what had happened to her; if she was one of the people who had been displaced due to the war, or if she was here by happenstance.

Either way, some great misfortune had befallen her. Perhaps she’d been set upon by the desperate bandits who sometimes frequented the woods, looking to make loot from her jewels and silks. She had no possessions with her, as far as Rumpelstiltskin could see, and she certainly wore no adornments. 

The woman moved her arms and legs gingerly, then nodded.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

He helped her to her feet, not an easy task considering his own imperfect balance, but once they were both upright, he led her back onto the road towards his village. It wouldn’t do for anyone who was unfamiliar to the area to be out alone at night, let alone a lady, but Rumpelstiltskin didn’t know the proper protocols for inviting her back to his home. 

“What happened? Is there somewhere I can escort you?”

“I… I don’t know. I can’t remember…”

It was at that point that Rumpelstiltskin decided that it was probably best to leave the proper protocols for dealing with accosted ladies and get her back to his home as quickly as possible. 

Her name was Belle, and she could vaguely recall her home being attacked by the ogres, but where that home was and who her people were, that had all fled from her memory when she had been injured. She remembered vague impressions of running, of someone calling her name - and then the next moment she was lying in a ditch with Rumpelstiltskin worrying over her. 

Bae was instantly smitten with her, and immediately started thinking up all sorts of wonderful and overly romantic stories in which Rumpelstiltskin had saved her from a band of at least twenty-seven ruffians, and now, naturally, they were going to fall in love and live happily ever after. 

Belle just laughed at the suggestion, even as a mortified Rumpelstiltskin shepherded his son off to bed. 

“Is there nothing you remember of your identity?” he asked once Bae was safely asleep and in no more danger of interfering. 

Belle shook her head, but then stopped, her brow furrowing as she brought a hand to her throat. Beneath the collar of her dress, there was a worn leather string, and she pulled it out to show an old gold signet ring. 

“I suppose there’s this,” she said. “The picture looks familiar, but I don’t know what it means.”

Rumpelstiltskin looked at the image, a stag beneath a fruit tree. He was sure that he had seen it somewhere before, but coats of arms and official seals weren’t something that peasants like him had much call to recognise.

“Well, maybe more will come back to you once you heal.”

Belle nodded, touching the bandage around her head. “Thank you for everything that you’ve done for me. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for your kindness.”

Rumpelstiltskin just shrugged. “I’m just doing what every decent person would do.”

“Yes, well…” Belle’s face darkened. “Maybe there aren’t too many decent people around these days.”

Despite her bruises, her smile, when she turned it on him, was still the most beautiful thing that Rumpelstiltskin had ever seen, and although he would not change his actions for the world had he had the chance to go back and do it all over again, he began to think that maybe he had made a terrible mistake in bringing Belle home.

X

So yes, Rumpelstiltskin had known from the first moment that he had met Belle and she had come to stay with them that she would not be around forever. People would miss someone like Belle, and not in the sense that Rumpelstiltskin would miss her when she inevitably left to go back to her own people. Her absence would be noticed, and people would come looking for her. 

That had indeed now happened. After almost four months of the modest domestic life that the three of them had settled into, flashes of Belle’s memory returning in dribs and drabs but never enough to full identify her, the news started to trickle in along the trading roads. The duke and duchess of the Marchlands were searching high and low for their lost daughter Isabelle, who had been separated from them as they fled their castle under ogre attack. Lady Colette had refused to give her up for dead, and now they were travelling throughout the kingdom, looking for her. 

Several imposters had been offered up, all to no avail since the family had not been apart long enough for the duke and duchess to have completely forgotten what she looked like. 

If Rumpelstiltskin hadn’t already suspected Belle’s identity when this news started to arrive, then the official proclamation that appeared in the market square sealed the deal.

Quite literally, in fact. The Marchlands duchy seal was unmistakable. A stag beneath a fruit tree.

It was the same symbol on the worn signet ring that hung around Belle’s neck. 

He looked back to where Belle and Bae were sitting with the barrow of spun yarn they were hoping to sell, and he watched them for a moment. Belle had slipped into their lives so easily; although she did not have any knowledge of peasant life, she had been happy to learn and had taken to it like a duck to water, never once pining for a finer life that she could occasionally half-remember like a dream. 

It would be sad to lose her, for both him and Bae; Rumpelstiltskin had grown so fond of her over the past couple of months that he couldn’t imagine going back to the lonely life that they’d had before. Belle had brought additional happiness into their home with her very presence, and he didn’t want to lose that. 

Perhaps there was the possibility of gaining a few more days or weeks, if he could keep her from seeing this notice and the link to her ring, but Rumpelstiltskin shook his head at the idea.

Belle needed to get back to her own family; although she seemed happy in this life that they had shared for the past weeks, this wasn’t her life. She was a lady, not a peasant, and she belonged with her own people. Her parents were anxious to have her back safely, and had Belle remembered who her parents were, then she would no doubt be anxious to get back to them.

It would be selfish to try and keep him with her for longer than he was entitled to her presence. After all, maybe a reunion would be what it would take to bring Belle’s memories back. He knew how frustrated she was at not knowing anything about herself and her life prior to the accident. 

No, he was going to have to let her go. It was the best way, for everyone.

“Belle.”

She looked up on hearing him call, giving him her brilliant smile once more, and he beckoned her over to where he was looking at the proclamation.

“What is it, Rumpel?”

“I think I may have found your family.”

Belle stared at the paper pinned up on the tree, and she touched the front of her dress where the ring sat beneath.

“Do you really think that could be me?” she asked. 

“I would say that the evidence is fairly solid.”

“Oh.” 

For a long time, Belle just stared at the notice, but it was clear that her eyes were looking straight through it as she toyed with the ring, a little furrow forming between her brows. 

“I guess I should probably go and see them,” she said eventually, but she sounded about as enthusiastic about the entire thing as Rumpelstiltskin felt. It struck a note with him, and he ventured to probe a little further.

“You don’t sound very happy.”

“Well, I’m not unhappy.” Belle sighed. “I just don’t remember. I should be excited about finding my family and getting back to them, but I can’t remember anything about them. Did I have a loving relationship with my parents, or was it distant and cold? It’s not like I would be going back to live in the lap of luxury that I’d probably been accustomed to - the Marchlands have been razed and the people displaced. I’d be no better off than I am now. And…”

A little blush began to rise in her cheeks, and she trailed off, looking away.

“Belle?”

“This feels like home,” Belle admitted, finally looking Rumpelstiltskin in the eye. “Here, with you and Bae. You’ve been so good to me, taking me in when you knew nothing about me and sharing your home and your food and your lives with someone you didn’t owe anything to. And I know it would be selfish for me to stay when there’s someone else out there looking for me and I have a proper place in the world; I shouldn’t prevail upon your hospitality any further, but… I like the life that I’ve been building here, and the things I’ve been learning. It feels like something that’s completely mine. And then there’s you and Bae… I’ve grown so fond of you both, and I don’t want to just up and leave you for some people I don’t even remember.”

Rumpelstiltskin was silent for a long time, digesting what Belle had just said. Whilst he had been wanting to keep her near him, he had never entertained the notion that she might actually want to stay. 

“You know, you don’t have to go,” he said softly. “You’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you like.”

Belle smiled. “Thank you, Rumpel. That means so much to me, and I would love to stay with you for as long as I can. But if these people really are my parents and they’re really looking for me, then I think I owe it to them to at least let them know that I’m still alive and I haven’t been trampled by ogres. But…” The furrow came back into her brows, but this time it was one of deep thought rather than sorrow. “Maybe there’s a way after all.”

Everything happened rather quickly after that. Rumpelstiltskin and Bae escorted Belle to the tavern where the duke and duchess of the Marchlands were lodging, waiting outside whilst Belle went in to see them. The minutes stretched on into what felt like hours, although Rumpelstiltskin knew that it couldn’t be that long. Presently, Bae tugged on his hand.

“Papa?”

“Yes, Bae?”

“Does this mean that Belle’s going to leave us?”

Rumpelstiltskin looked back at the tavern door. Belle had thought that another way was possible, but he couldn’t see it himself.

“It’s likely, Bae. I mean, we’ve always known that she has her own family somewhere out there. She couldn’t stay with us forever, you know that.”

“Yes.” Bae heaved a long sigh that made him sound far older than his years. “It’s not fair. She was part of our family. This new family can’t just come and take her away like that.”

“Sadly, the world works like that, sometimes., Bae.”

His son folded his arms with a huff. “Well, it shouldn’t.”

Despite feeling the same way himself, Rumpelstiltskin couldn’t help but laugh at Bae’s indignation, and he was still chuckling when Belle emerged from the tavern. She came over to them slowly, walking almost as if she was in a dream, and the little frown line was back between her brows. 

“Is everything all right?”

Belle nodded slowly. “I’m definitely their daughter,” she said, “but I still don’t remember them. I guess I was hoping for a magical moment like in books, where I’d see my mother and everything would suddenly fall into place, and I’d have all my memories again and the world would be instantly set to rights with fairy magic or some other such nonsense.” She shook her head. “I suppose it will come with time, but right now, they still feel like strangers to me.” She smiled at Rumpelstiltskin. “You’re not a stranger, though. You’re familiar. I feel safe with you. And… if you’ll have me… I’d like to continue feeling safe with you.”

Rumpelstiltskin took a few moments to make sure he had really heard her correctly, and even then, he did not entirely believe his ears. 

“Are you sure? Surely your parents would want you to go home with them.”

Belle glanced back at the tavern. “This is their home, for now. Like I said before, the Marchlands where I grew up and lived with them have been flattened. There’s no home left there. So doesn’t it make more sense for me to stay in the home I’ve been building with you?”

Words failed him. He’d hardly dared to hope before, and he didn’t want to dare now. He thought that he knew Belle well enough to be able to trust that she was not playing some sort of trick on him. 

“Rumpel?” Her soft hand - not as soft as it had once been after weeks of hard housework, but still like velvet to Rumpelstiltskin’s skin - touched his cheek. “All of the Marchlanders need to make a new home for now, and I might as well make mine here. Maybe my memories will come back in time, but that won’t negate anything that’s happened since I lost them. It won’t change any of the wonderful new memories I’ve made.”

Rumpelstiltskin chanced to take her hand. “Are you sure about this, Belle?”

Her laugh was bright and musical. “How many times are you going to have to ask me that before you’re convinced? Yes. My home is here now. Whatever home I might remember from before is gone. My parents are here, and they know I’m safe, and we’re close enough that I can get to know them again. I know that things would be different and far more difficult if my previous home was still standing. And I’m not going to pretend that things might get complicated if they decide to go back and rebuild in the Marchlands. But if there’s one thing that these past months have taught me, that you have taught me, Rumpel, it’s that I’m my own person, and no one decides my fate but me.”

If Rumpelstiltskin was stunned by her speech, then he was even more stunned when she pressed her lips against his cheek. He must have looked a complete sight, as Belle burst into giggles when she pulled away.

“I think I broke your father, Bae.”

Bae waved away her concerns. “He’ll be fine. I don’t think a pretty lady’s ever kissed him before. So, does this mean that you’re coming home with us after all, Belle?”

Belle nodded. “Yes. If you’d like that, of course.”

“Yes!” Bae gave a hoot of victory. “Come on, Papa. Let’s go home.”

He took Belle by the hand, dragging her along towards the road that led back to their village. Belle looked back at him, holding out her other hand, and Rumpelstiltskin took it. 

He did not know what might happen in the future, but for the present, Belle was content to stay with him, and he would count that as an infinite blessing. And who knew? Maybe the life that she was building with him could turn into a life that they would build together. 

[woobienation]

Hi it's Santa again! *wields fire extinguisher* We're having a little trouble making a story happen here, once the smoke clears out I may have to try something different, but something is happening at least! On that note, I hope you're having a pleasant December so far!

Santa! You should keep any false starts you have and then include a story "blooper reel" at the end. ;) Spinner!Rum needs rescuing from the library's Basement Dragon (again)! Spinner!Rum walks into a bar and finds himself babysitting an overserved Belle who has some wisdom *hic* to share about love and life. Spinner!Rum gets work as Gaston's tailor and is stuck stitching up seam after seam because Gaston keeps busting them while showing off his SUPER-FLEX to an utterly unimpressed Belle! (But she keeps hanging around because of the shy, yummy tailor.)

Wherever your inspiration ultimately takes you, I'll be so delighted and grateful. December has been wonderful so far. \(◦'⌣'◦)/

[woodelf68]

“You Have Been Drafted Into The King’s Army.”  

Rumplestiltskin is eager for a chance to prove his mettle and show that he isn’t the coward that his father was. 

OUAT 2x14, Manhattan

[woobienation]

I'm always so happy to see this family on my dash.

Belle reading: “As all things come to an end, even this story…”

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Out of Time (8/?)

Summary:  Belle is the one to be sucked into Zelena’s time portal with Emma, and they find themselves in a very different time to the one they had anticipated, arriving to see the confrontation between Hook and a pre-Dark One Rumpelstiltskin. They manage to return to the future, but with some unintentional stowaways. With Rumpelstiltskin removed from his own timeline, the universe throws a fit, and it’s a race against time to set things straight.

Rated: T for now, but it may go up in later chapters.

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [AO3]

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Out of Time

Eight

Once she was on her way back to the pink house with Rumpel and little Bae, Belle felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The gravity of their situation was still pressing on her very hard indeed, but now she only had to focus on one thing. As worried as she was about Gold and whether or not he would still be there when she next came to the pawn shop, she knew that there was absolutely nothing she could do to change his outcome, and all she could do was trust that he knew what he was doing.

She hoped that he could find a way to put everything to rights, because if he couldn’t do it, then she was fairly sure that no one could.

“That was me.” Rumpel had not spoken for most of the journey back to the house, and Belle glanced over at him now. He looked pensive, concerned. “Me in the future. The me that you knew before.”

She nodded. “Yes, it was.”

Rumpel did not reply, and Belle had to wonder how he was finding it. She had been more concerned for Gold seeing the man that he had once been, knowing how much he had always held what he perceived to be his previous cowardice in contempt.

Now though, she realised that Rumpel might have just as intense a reaction to seeing his future self, although for different reasons. For all they were the same man, for all they looked the same, they were very different in outward appearance. Gold’s fine suits, despite being from a completely different realm and a completely different time, would nevertheless have been an obvious mark of wealth to his former self. There was also the small matter of his limp, Gold’s now cured with magic but still very visible on Rumpel.

Even just seeing him through the shop window must have been a shock, and whilst Belle wondered what Rumpel thought of his future self, a larger part of her did not want to know. In her mind, they were the same person and yet different at the same time. Having been through so much in the intervening three hundred years, of course they were going to be different, but maybe to each other, they were unrecognisable.

She wondered if Rumpel was scared or intrigued by the man that he was to become. Not that it would make much difference in the long run. If they were to put the timeline to rights, then Rumpel could not remember anything of what had occurred since Belle and Emma first came into his life. Any warnings or lessons from his older self would necessarily be forgotten.

Belle found that she didn’t mind that. She had fallen in love with Rumpel towards the end of his current timeline, and despite their ups and downs, and despite all of the heartbreak that they had endured, she would not change him for the world. He would not be the man he was today had this poor spinner not been through everything that he had, as much as Belle wanted to spare him that pain.

“I didn’t see Bae,” Rumpel said presently. “I was sure that I would recognise him, even if he was an adult.”

Belle’s heart pounded painfully in the back of her throat. She couldn’t tell him what would happen to Bae in the future. That would just be cruel. She glanced over her shoulder to where he was dozing in the back seat of the car.

“I’m sure that he’s around somewhere,” she said, wishing that it were true. “After all, people are vanishing and reappearing with great regularity. He’ll turn up.”

Rumpel nodded and rubbed his forehead again. The headache seemed to be getting worse, and Belle knew that it would be affecting Gold as well. The two of them were linked across the years; what one of them experienced, the other one would by proxy.

“I’ll find you some aspirin,” she said as she let them into the house. Bae had woken up and was toddling along after his father, gazing in dumbfounded wonderment at all the curios of the modern world that Gold’s house had to offer. She gave them a quick tour and a brief introduction to the concepts of electricity and modern plumbing, finally getting them settled in the kitchen with tea and toast with honey. Bae was fascinated by the toaster and Rumpel had to keep pulling his fingers back where they were constantly creeping towards the slots to see what magic made the bread hot.

“No, Bae. It’s dangerous. You’ll burn yourself.”

“It’s magic!” Bae exclaimed, and Belle had to smile. Bae was so curious about this new world that he had found himself in, and once he had found his feet and was reassured that his Papa wasn’t going anywhere, he was excited about exploring everything that his new surroundings had to offer, showing no fear.

“When you’re done eating, I’ll show you your room,” Belle said, more to Bae than to Rumpel, in the hope of distracting him from the toaster before he could cause himself an injury. For all his wide-eyed wonder, Bae was showing all the signs of tiredness, and the day was wearing on. “I think it would be best if you slept in the spare room; I’ll just be down the corridor.”

“It’s all right, really,” Rumpel tried to protest, but Belle just fixed him with a look that had always worked in the Dark Castle and that worked again now.

“The very least that I can do for you is give you a nice warm bed, Rumpel,” she said.

“I know, but you’ve already done so much, and everything here’s so nice.” He still couldn’t get to grips with the idea that this was his home in the future, that his fortunes could have changed so much to be living in such luxury – even though so much in the house was a foreign concept to him, he could still clearly see the marks of wealth and taste. “We wouldn’t want to make anything dirty.”

“As I explained before, we have plenty of hot running water,” Belle said gently. “You’re welcome to take a bath if you’d like, and I can find you some clean clothes. When we have more than we need, it makes sense to share it.”

Considering that Rumpel had shared his own meagre reserves with her and Emma, it more than made sense, and although still a little wary, he agreed. Belle went to run a bath and set about finding some suitable clothes. There was nothing really small for Bae, so she settled on one of Gold’s undershirts and some boxer shorts, and pyjamas for Rumpel.

Considering that they were the same person, the pyjamas looked ridiculously big on him when he returned to the kitchen having got Bae settled for the night. Even though Belle had always thought of him as a man on the small side, it just went to show much difference a couple of hundred years of proper nutrition and a life away from the hardships of poverty could do. If they sent Rumpel and Bae back to their own timeline with a good meal inside them, then that would be something.

“Thank you,” Rumpel said, coming to sit down at the table with her. “I… I don’t think that I can thank you enough for everything. This is all so… overwhelming.”

“It’s nothing,” Belle assured him.

“I suppose I just can’t understand why… how…” Rumpel sighed. “I don’t deserve all the kindness that you’re showing me, Belle. I have nothing to offer you in return.”

“Oh Rumpel.” Belle reached out to touch his cheek, noting how he leaned in against her palm almost without realising that he was doing it. She wondered just how long it had been since anyone had touched him with care and affection like this. Milah may only just have left him, but they had certainly not been on good terms for a long while beforehand. “It’s my pleasure. You took care of Emma and me when we were trapped in the Enchanted Forest, and now I’m taking care of you and Bae whilst you’re trapped here. I know you, Rumpel. I may not know you, personally, as well as I will know you in the future, but I do know that you deserve to be loved and cared for. Everyone deserves that, and you especially. People don’t do the right thing for some kind of reward. They do it because it's right.”

“Belle, I think you might just be the most remarkable person I’ve ever met. And the scariest thing is that I don’t know whether or not I’ve met you before.”

Belle’s brow furrowed and she stroked his cheek where she was still touching him. He showed no signs of pulling away, and the motion seemed to soothe him. “What do you mean?”

Rumpel rubbed his forehead with the slightest of grimaces that he tried hard to hide quickly.

“It’s not just this headache that’s bothering me,” he admitted. “I keep having flashes… Like memories, but not, and I don’t think that they can be daydreams. I don’t think that I could dream up the things I’m seeing.”

“What kind of things?”

“I see you,” Rumpel said. “But not as you are now. You’re dressed as a fine lady, in golden silk and jewels… Not that you’re not a fine lady now, of course, but your dress… It’s from the old world, and I know I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life.”

Belle nodded slowly. “I did own such a dress, yes. I was wearing it when we first met – in my past and your future.”

“Belle, do you think I’m seeing the future?”

“I… I don’t know. This isn’t something that I’ve ever encountered before. I think that maybe these are memories of another life. They’re glimpses of the future for you, but for your future self, they’re memories. You’re the same person, so maybe you’re sharing these memories now. Your future self is experiencing the same headaches as you because there are two of you existing in the same space. It makes sense that other things might pass across the connection, like memories. Although, obviously, your future self has all the memories that you do, so in this case it would only affect you, memories that you haven’t lived yet, but will in your future.”

“Will I?” Rumpel looked around the room at the overwhelming present that he had found himself in, looking scared and dejected. “I’m beginning to think that there’s no hope of us ever getting home. And even if we do, how can we be sure that everything will happen in the same way that it has done? If you and I have already met, even if, by some miracle, you can take me and Bae back to exactly the same time that we left, then the future has already changed.”

Belle couldn’t deny it, he certainly had a point.

“I’m sure that we can make it right. You may not realise it yet, but your knowledge of magic is second to none.”

“I don’t know the first thing about magic.” He paused. “Well, that’s not strictly true. I know that it tends to end in disaster.”

Belle thought about the limited experiences of magic that this Rumpel had, just his traumatic trips through portals to and from Neverland courtesy of his father, and the seer’s prophecy that would cause him so much pain. There really was no wonder that he was so pessimistic about their chances.

“It will come with time. You’ll see.”

Maybe he did see. Belle’s blood ran cold. If he was seeing memories from his future, then who knew what he might be seeing. Becoming the Dark One, being separated from Bae, reuniting with him only to lose him again and again.

“Rumpel… Are you seeing anything else in these visions of the future that you’re having?” she asked quickly.

“For the most part it’s just you,” Rumpel admitted. His face had gone very red, and Belle thought it incredibly charming. “I think you ground me. Thank you.”

Belle smiled. “You’re very welcome.” She took both his hands in hers where they were sitting limply on the table. “I will ground you for as long as you need me to. But try not to think about the visions too much. I don’t think that there’s anything to be concerned about.”

She would never forgive herself if he saw something that he didn’t want to happen and set about changing the course of history in order to prevent it. Even keeping him focussed on her was not the best idea, considering the number of times that she and Rumpel had been separated over the course of their too-short time together. At least he knew that whatever might have happened in the past between them, they were on course for a happy ending now, which was sadly more than could be said for his relationship with Neal, cruelly cut short before amends could be made.

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you rest,” she said. “It’s been a very long day for all of us, and I’m sure that you could use a bed as much as I could.”

Rumpel nodded. “Yes, you’re right.” He rose from the table, and Belle stood with him, holding out his stick. “Thank you for everything that you’ve done.”

There was still wonder in his voice, as if despite her words he still could not believe that she would do so much for him and Bae, and it made Belle’s heart melt.

She leaned in close, putting her hands gently on his shoulders and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, which flamed even redder than before in response.

“You are worth it, Rumpel,” she said. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Rendered speechless by this tenderness, Rumpel nodded and left the room as fast as his leg could take him. Belle wondered if she had been too presumptuous, but she felt for this Rumpel in the same way she felt for the man she had known all this time. Despite their differences, they were the same person, and she was finding the lines in her mind between them beginning to blur a little.

Belle sighed. That was a complication that this whole temporal mess could certainly do without.

[woobienation]

Santa again! I just figured out where to go with the story, (no piracy, *tosses certain individuals out a window,* oh well,) so I'm going to get cracking on that. I have never watched a Hallmark Christmas movie in full, but I'm fairly certain this would fit the genre thematically. More details to come as The Thing is written.

A Hallmark Channel flavored Spinner!Rum story sounds like sweet, sweet holiday bliss to me, Santa! I am so eager to hear more as your story comes together. Get that poor man a Belle! :)

[emospritelet]

Desperation!Gold, might you like to spend a few evenings - when you're feeling better, of course, teaching Belle to crochet, or to weave?

Of course. I’d be happy to teach her, if she wanted to learn. It was nice to have someone other than Bae show an interest