#rss 2023
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Giftee: @notalwayslate
Merry Christmas, dearie! I have had the most fun being your Santa. I've seen many years of RSS come and go, but this is my first year participating and I couldn't have asked for a better giftee and prompt. Writing this fic has brought a lot of joy to my holiday season and I can only hope that it brings a little bit to yours too ♥
| AO3 LINK |
Prompt: "her picture in a locket"
Summary: Rumplestiltskin's heart beats with a singular purpose – to reunite with his lost son. But his heart only has so many beats left before it fully gives into the Darkness. An enchanted locket known as "The Heart's Caretaker" may be his only chance to save what little light still burns within him. He just needs it to reveal the one person in the realm destined to banish his shadows and bring love back into his world.
| 'Skin Deep' prologue, very Rumple centric, character studies, canon divergence, verbal sparring, Marchlands world-building, Jefferson & Rumple friendship, background Papafire, hyper-fluffy epilogue |
"Portrait of the Heart"
| (5/5) | (12.7k) | AO3 LINK |
🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄🎁🎄
#rumbelle secret santa#notalwayslate#rss 2023#rumbelle secret santa 2023#rumbelle#rumbelle fic#ouat fic#my fic#rumplestiltskin#belle french
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They Said It Was A Party
Prompt: Rivaling another magical power couple.
Hello @cartoonjessie ! It's me! I am Santa! Here is your gift, which is not late! To Ao3 you go!
Mr. Gold, an old acquaintance of the Mills family, and Belle French, a definite outsider, attend a holiday dinner for the rich and infamous.
"It's lovely."
The decor was a little different every time. But always tasteful. Now, there were twinkling lights and silvery ribbons as a nod to the holiday season. The odd spray of greenery or drape of a garland. But there was a chill in the air. One that had nothing to do with the temperature. Inside, or out, on the wind-whipped, snow-covered lawn.
It was chilly and impersonal in the house. Cora had that effect. If Gold hadn't visited the house before, he'd think she was renting the ground floor as a venue for her intimate dinner parties.
Like this one.
Though intimate dinner party really meant show of power.
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Finding the Fun - RSS 2023 Fic
Hello @of-princes-and-savages I am your Secret Santa and damn was this a labor of love! The flu almost stopped me, but I said "not today infectious demon, I have a gift to complete." So without further ado, I hope you enjoy this kinda angsty, mostly fluffy, with just a hint of smut Rumbelle fic.
I will also post it to Ao3, but probably not until tomorrow and I wanted to make sure I got this to you today. So, feel free to read it below....
Summary: Belle and Rumple are settled in Storybrooke with two year-old Gideon. One night, Belle has a mishap and it inspires the couple to try and bring back the fun into their relationship.
Notes: This is a little bit AU, because after Gideon is turned back into a baby, the family stays in Storybrooke instead of traveling realms. So magic exists and all of the characters' history is the same but I’m glossing over the whole “Rumple needs to break his Dark One curse” thing. Also, I researched it and baby deer walk 7 hours after being born. - That’ll make sense when you read it.
Finding the Fun
Well, this wasn’t the oddest position Rumple had ever found Belle in.
There was the time in the Dark Castle when he’d found her perched high up on a ladder tugging on the window curtains trying to let light into the room. He’d been about to chide her, because it was called the dark castle for a reason, but she’d lost her balance and fell right into his arms. There were many other “Belle mishaps” (as he liked to call them) to choose from, but the ladder was his favorite. He’d ended up with his arms full of a beautiful woman, the sun shining down on him like a spotlight and she hadn’t looked at him with repulsion. Instead he saw curiosity and kindness in her bright blue eyes. He didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of his love for her.
Currently, he was leaning against the doorframe of their son Gideon’s room. The hallway light behind him cast a luminous glow over the scene inside. Belle was fast asleep propped up by the headboard of their two year-old son’s bed. Gideon was cradled in her lap, equally fast asleep, his head resting against her bosom. He could tell even from across the room that Gideon’s breathing was a bit labored, and he could hear the occasional sniffle from what was undoubtedly a stuffy nose.
Ah, Gideon finally caught a cold from one of the other children at daycare. Well it was bound to happen at some point. An autumn chill had recently swept through Storybrooke and with it inevitably came runny noses and germ-laden hands.
But his beautiful wife comforting their son wasn’t the ‘odd’ part of this tableau. It was what she was wearing. Rumple’s eyes trailed up her legs. They were covered in sheer black stockings and just a peek of a garter belt could be seen high up her thigh. He could just make out a pair of matching panties trimmed in scallop lace before Gideon’s little body hid the rest from view. His gaze continued to drift upward to her top. It was a thin and rather ragged sweatshirt with the words Storybrooke Library stamped upon it. It even looked like she’d done her makeup more than usual. Her eyes were darkly lined with a winged effect and her lips were a luscious merlot color.
He tried to bite back a chuckle. Belle had sent him out for a bottle of wine and there had been a wicked gleam in her eyes. It appears Belle’s plans for a seduction had been rudely and quite suddenly interrupted by Gideon’s head-cold.
Rumple gently closed the door and made his way to their bedroom where he was met with more evidence of Belle’s thwarted seduction. Hanging off the side of their bed was a black corset covered in a black scallop lace just matching her panties. The drawers of their dresser were all pulled out with clothing spilling out of them and several items strewn across the floor. The male part of him groaned at the missed opportunity. The rest of him had a good laugh while he cleaned up the room.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Belle stumbled down the hallway like a baby deer fresh from the womb. Her legs had fallen asleep while keeping Gideon propped up on her lap. Poor little Gid had woken up crying and panicked because he couldn’t breathe through his nose. He didn’t understand that it was just a cold, and he kept pointing to his nose crying “no no no.” Once she was able to calm him down they’d sat in the bathroom with the shower steaming to help loosen his stuffed sinuses followed by a small dose of cough medicine. He still hadn’t been able to sleep without Belle propping him up making it easier for him to breathe. Thank gods toddlers don’t care what their moms look like as long they’re there, because Belle looked very different than usual.
The house was already dark so it must be late. It was always disorienting leaving Gideon’s room after sleeping with him. It felt like his room existed outside of time and space; the white noise machine, the complete darkness he needed for sleep (he must get it from Rumple), the cozy warmth of his body when he insists on snuggling until he drifts off. It all effectively shuts out the world. So when Belle tiptoes out the door, it always takes her a long time to orient herself to the sounds, the light, and the cold of the real world. She has absolutely no idea what time it is. It could be tomorrow for all she knows.
She makes her way into the kitchen trying to quietly make some tea before she puts herself to bed. The feeling is back in her legs because she definitely felt the chair she just knocked into which, of course, clattered to the floor. The sound echoing throughout the first floor of the house. With a great huff she slouched against the kitchen counter. So much for quiet.
“Well well well. What do we have here?”
Belle jumped with a little shriek turning around to meet the very amused eyes of Rumple.
“Rumple!” She pressed her hand to her heart, “You scared me.”
He shrugged and swaggered towards her pulling her into his arms. He was dressed for bed in his deep blue silk pajama set with a matching robe. The contrast in their attire was very apparent. Most of Belle’s makeup was rubbed off and her hair was a frizzy, tangled mess from the shower steam. She looked up to see Rumple biting back an amused smile. The glee on his face made him look like the imp she’d known during their time in the Dark Castle together. Despite her embarrassment, she found her heart chuckling inside of her along with him. It had been a long time since she’d seen him find something funny other than from sinister irony.
His voice was quiet and laughing when he asked, “Would you like to tell me about your evening?”
“Only if you make me some tea.”
“Deal,” he said, and with a peck on her forehead, left her arms to tend to the kettle.
Belle picked up the chair from the floor and settled herself into it. She pulled a leg up under herself, and the silky slipperiness of her stockings made her grimace. The stockings weren’t made to withstand a steam bath and restless toddler feet snagging on them. They were designed to carefully encase each leg and then dramatically shown off in a big reveal that raises blood pressure (in addition to other things), maybe a short session of eye-fucking, and then finally are peeled off in favor of more naked activities.
“I should get changed,” she muttered to herself.
“And deprive me of the sexy sight before me?”
She snorted and rolled her eyes. “Obviously this was not what I was going for. Gideon woke up with a cold and it all went downhill from there.”
Rumple set the tea tray on the table, and reached for her clasped hands. “I’m sorry sweetheart. Is Gid ok?”
“Yeah he’ll be fine. I think it scared him more than anything.”
Rumple sat across from her still holding her hand. “I suppose you can’t really explain to a two year-old what a head cold is.”
“Not really.”
“I wasn’t laughing at you. The situation is just….”
“Funny.” Belle supplied with a smirk. “I know. It is. It really is.” She fiddled with Rumple’s finger while trying to shake off the feelings of disappointment and frustration. With his free hand, Rumple began to fix their tea trying to pour hot water into the teapot without spilling. When Belle noticed his adorable attempt to make tea one-handed she released his fingers and clasped her own together in her lap.
For two years they’ve been trying to heal together. They are both in individual therapy and in couples therapy. Even little Gideon went to play therapy once per month. Now that he is starting to develop his own sense of self they wanted to make sure Gideon had extra support in case their were residual effects from his time in the Dark Realm and…well, from everything else that had happened to him. Because so much had happened. Sometimes it felt like too much. All of the curses, all of the betrayals, and secrets. There were times early on when Belle couldn’t imagine their little family ever being happy together.
Now, she sees glimmers of hope everywhere. In the way Rumple holds onto her hand even if he needs it back to make their tea; in the way he packs extra snacks in Gideon’s daycare bag “just in case he’s hungrier than usual;” in the way he tells her every single time he has a craving to misuse magic, and instead they talk together until a non-magical solution can be found.
So tonight she had wanted to create something special for him — ok, for them. Not that they hadn’t had sex in the past two years, but this was intended to be different. She wanted to play and have fun. It had been such a long time since they’d just had fun. She thought bringing that playfulness into the bedroom would in turn bring it back into their relationship on a whole.
Rumple sat her teacup in front of her and she grabbed his hand before he could pull away. He looked up a bit surprised at her earnestness.
“I….” She started. “I….” She sighed. She didn’t know how to say it. How to explain what she had imagined for their night together. The simple explanation was not so simple anymore. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what Dr. Hopper had coached.
The emotions behind a simple situation make it feel complicated. Un-complicate it by first stating the facts out loud.
Belle’s blue eyes pierced into Rumple’s. He could see her internal fight, but was mystified as to what it was about. His first instinct was to jump into the conversation and try to fix it, but he knew that wasn’t what she needed. He has a penchant for trying to fix everything and anything for the ones he loves. After hundreds of years and lots of therapy he’s finally curbing that instinct.
You don’t have to fix everything. You just have to be present, listen, and then, if Belle asks for your help, you can work together towards a solution .
Finally Belle blew out a long breath and an even longer stream of words.
“After Gideon went to bed, I sent you out for a bottle of wine even though we have a full wine cellar. I went to our room, put on makeup like Lacey used to wear, and then started changing into some sexy lingerie that I bought specially for tonight. Then everything with Gideon happened — ” she pulled her hands apart and spread her fingers wide as if she could grab Gideon’s untimely cold from the past and show it to him like a picture book at a children’s story hour.
Once the facts are stated begin listing your feelings. Don’t go into the cause or the reasons for the feelings. State just the feelings.
“— and I am frustrated, disappointed, annoyed, embarrassed, and exhausted. Ok, I don’t know if ‘exhausted’ is technically a feeling but if it’s not it should be.”
Rumple brought his teacup to his mouth gently blowing over the hot liquid’s surface. A bubble of quiet contemplation settled around the table. He and Belle had been diligently working to keep their family together which meant they lived a sedate and routine-oriented lifestyle.
“Sweetheart, not that I’m complaining, but may I ask what brought this on?”
Belle groaned internally, because of course that was his response. Any sane person would ask that question. Except most people would say something like ‘why did you suddenly decide to act out a cheesy seduction on a Wednesday night?’
Belle fiddled with the tiny handle of her teacup while her mind swirled with words creating half-explanations none of which would make sense to anyone outside of herself. Several times her mouth opened to say something but all she could accomplish was looking pleadingly at Rumple with big pitiful eyes. He grasped her limp hands and held them tight.
“Belle…is there something -”
“-I’m bored!” She blurted out.
They blinked at each other both surprised for very different reasons.
“Oh”
“No, not in that way. Not bored of our relationship. I’m not unhappy. I cannot stress that enough.”
“…ok.” To his credit Rumple’s grip on Belle’s hands didn’t lessen. “But you’re bored.” He stated it like it was one of the many facts of their life together; Gideon doesn’t like peas, Rumple is the Dark One, and Belle is bored.
“I miss the fun part of our relationship,” and even as Belle said it she winced, because in truth there relationship history wasn’t riddled with lighthearted moments. “I want there to be a ‘fun’ aspect to our relationship.”
“Fun.” Rumple repeated it like it was the first time he’d ever said the word in his life. “Well, I’m not entirely certain what to do about that. Should I do something?”
Belle face glowed with warmth and happiness. The Rumple from only a few years ago would’ve never asked if he ‘should’ do something. He would’ve spent days and weeks plotting and planning without consulting her, and then revealed something ‘fun.’
“Let me try to come up with something and if it doesn’t work out then you can take a crack at it.”
“If its any consolation, what you came up with looked like it would’ve been spectacular.” Rumple placed a kiss on her hand and leaned in close, “Parental responsibilities simply got in the way.”
“So much for spontaneity.” Belle leaned in bringing her lips to his intending for a quick kiss, but the forward momentum of her body kept their lips locked together. She opened her mouth ever so slightly and Rumple’s fingers cupped her chin keeping her steady while the tip of his tongue gently caressed and coaxed hers. She exhaled and sank deeper into their kiss enjoying the comforting familiarity of it, and grateful that even after all these years her lips still tingled with excitement when he kissed her. When a natural break from the need to breathe inserted itself, Belle leaned back in her chair feeling cautiously excited about this new endeavor.
———————————————-
This. Is. So. Horrible.
Belle wished it was physically possible to impale herself on the tiny dessert fork before her. The shiny object was sitting next to a plate of pears gorgeously poached in a spiced red wine reduction, and yet the only thought running through her brain (aside from suicide by fork) was her gratitude that the dessert course had finally arrived.
Gusteau’s was one of the newer restaurants that popped up in Storybrooke after the Black Fairy had been defeated. A quiet curse-free existence seemed possible for the first time and many of the town’s citizens were investing in their hopes and dreams again. Resulting in many new businesses and restaurants opening their doors.
Gusteau’s was the prime example of a fine dining experience. Heavy beautifully carved furniture was spaced evenly throughout the restaurant and crisp white linens covered the tables. Each tabletop was adorned with a low vase of roses and a miniature lamp that cast just enough light that one could comfortably gaze upon their dining companion. The room on a whole was swathed in heavy, rich fabrics and carpeted to dampen the foot tread of the wait staff as they hurried from table to kitchen and back again.
Belle thought, at the time, it was the perfect idea for a fun night out. Gideon was enjoying a play date at the Nolan’s house. Their little boy Neal was a few years older, but he played well with Gideon always making sure to keep their games at a pace suited to a toddler. He had the sweet nature of his namesake and seemed to favor Gideon especially. More importantly, it meant their own house was unoccupied. While preparing for their evening out, Belle had visions of an elegant dinner enjoying sumptuous food and good conversation accompanied by just a tad too much wine. Maybe they would take a stroll in the crisp evening air by the water. She loved the mystery of the sea at night. It was a thrilling contrast, hearing the water churning against the docked boats, but the black night obscuring it from view. Once they were thoroughly chilled to their bones they would warm each other in front of their fireplace finding bliss in the comfort of their own home.
But now…..
She just wanted to go home, throw on some leggings, and crawl into bed until the morning when they would go retrieve Gid. Hopefully he was having a better night.
Rumple was twisting the stem of his glass of port between his fingers. They’d both given up trying to keep the conversation from stagnating. It hadn’t occurred to her that after hours of talk therapy they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. They started off the evening talking about Gideon - that was inevitable - and then Rumple’s shop and the library, but once those topics had been exhausted, neither of them knew where to direct the conversation next. They were in each other’s lives every day. There wasn’t much more to say that hadn’t already been said at the breakfast table that morning. And Rumple tried, he really did, but gods help them at one point he even commented on the weather. It’s colder than usual for this time of year…. That was it. It hadn’t even been something substantial about the weather that Belle could verbally latch onto and run with.
So now she was left staring at her dessert like it was the saddest sight in the world. Resolutely, she picked up her dessert fork and (choosing life) cut into one of the pears. As the warm flavors of cinnamon and nutmeg burst in her mouth, she tried to think of something to say.
“How is the port?” She reluctantly let the question escape her lips, but before Rumple could answer, a cheerful giggling from the adjacent table captured their attention.
Squinting, Belle could make out a very young couple, in their teens, not-so-secretly passing a silver flask between them under the table. Each time the girl took a small sip she laughed producing a delightful jingling sound and the boy looked at her like she was the sweetest thing on this earth. They were tucked together at the table experiencing their first foray into ‘adult’ dating and all that it entails — soft candlelight, fancy food and clothing, and hushed serious tones. But like most teens their natural enthusiasm for being unleashed on the world could’t be tamped down. They awkwardly held hands and fussed with their cutlery as they waited for their next course. They talked just a bit too loud.
Belle’s mind jolted with memories, but she quickly realized they weren’t her memories. They were Lacey’s. Like a book she read long ago and could only recall small portions of the story, Lacey’s memories were vague and full of feeling more than specifics. However, in this moment, she could recall ‘memories’ of Lacey as a fresh teen going to parties and playing drinking games with her peers. She could feel the thrill of drinking alcohol like an adult. Mostly she remembered laughter. Laughing while a bottle spun round and round between her circle of friends; anticipating the person it would choose for her next kiss. Laughing when she proclaimed “Never have I ever…” and watching her friends sheepishly drink a shot and admitting to some embarrassing deed. Lacey’s nights out as a teen were a strange mixture of vulnerability and….fun. Belle could confidently guess that Rumple’s cursed memories didn’t contain anything like Lacey’s shenanigans, and she was positive he’d never participated in even the simple games children played in Fairytale Land.
She reached across the table and took the glass of port from Rumple’s fingers. Gaining his attention, he seemed dazed like a schoolboy caught daydreaming during his lessons, Belle took a big breath and smiled at him. It was time to breathe some life back into this half-dead date.
“Let’s get the check and then I want you to come with me, but before you do, I need you to promise me one thing.”
Rumple’s eyebrows raised at that. They tried not to practice in promises. They were still learning their own limitations as a couple and making promises could be dangerous.
“Belle, sweetheart, are you sure?”
“Trust me. Promise that you’ll keep an open mind.” She tried to infuse her smile with as much assurance as possible.
“Ok, darling” Belle almost missed the sigh that accompanied it, but she wouldn’t be deterred. This was a situation of her own making and she needed to fix it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The rush of wind was wonderfully refreshing. It was just what they needed after the heavy warmth of the restaurant. Belle had insisted on walking through town. They could get the car later. Rumple had never been happier to be cold, because it meant Belle was snuggled tight into his side. The small table at which they’d been seated at Gusteau’s made it feel like he was trying to hold a conversation with someone on the opposite side of a football field. No matter how hard he’d tried to keep the flow of conversation going it was inundated with long pauses and stilted answers. It’d been excruciating. He’d felt like he was failing Belle with each course serving more awkward pauses than the last until finally dessert was served with outright silence.
Another gust of wind blew back the flaps of his coat, and he tugged them closer around him and his beloved Belle. They stood by the harbor looking out into the vast darkness of the sea. Belle was practically molded to him. He buried his face in her thick auburn tresses, once darker and curly they had straightened into waves with age, but it didn’t matter. He loved her no matter what. After all, he had changed too - his hair had been chopped short by his own hand. He was sometimes self-conscious of the change he’d made, but as if she could read his thoughts, at those times Belle would take the opportunity to gently massage his scalp letting her fingers slip and slide through his shorn greying hair. How he loved her. It was the reason he was so panicked about their lackluster evening - she was bored. She wanted to have fun, but honestly Rumple wasn’t sure he was capable of such a thing. His life hadn’t exactly been built on the idea of carefree joy. His parents had abandoned him and, until Belle came along, so had everyone else either by death, circumstance, or outright choice. What did he know about fun?
Belle turned in his arms nuzzling the smooth skin of his jawline which then turned into small kisses and nibbles. The biting cold and Belle’s amorous affection had him fighting for breath.
“Is this the part where I’m supposed to ‘keep an open mind’?”
Chuckling, Belle murmured, “Not quite.” She pulled back a fraction so she could see his face, “Have you ever heard of Truth or Dare?”
Rumple faltered for a reply. “Uh…yes, it’s some kind of game teenagers in this realm like to play.” He couldn’t keep the perplexed look off his face.
“Yes!” She hugged him tighter and he could feel her jump up and down a little. “I think we should play it.” His comically stunned face urged her to add, “I’ll even go first.”
“Why. Why do you want to play Truth or Dare? Darling we’re a bit old for such things.”
“Nonsense.” Her prim response was accompanied by a tug on his tie. “I think it’s just what we need.”
At Rumple’s raised eyebrows, she continued, “I think we are talked out. We need something fun to do. And unless you want to suddenly become more social and do a…” she floundered for an example, “a pottery class together or some other group activity, then I think playing some silly games together is just what we need!”
Rumple still looked unconvinced.
“Please, Rumple. Try. For me.”
And that was the straw breaking the camel’s back. They both knew he couldn’t deny her this. She never asked for much in their relationship, and how could he say no to a simple game? Even one that was excruciatingly juvenile. A great huff escaped him and after one long exaggerated groan, that made her giggle, he said, “ok ok. But you go first.”
Belle straightened up expectedly. “Ok, ask me!”
With an endearing smile, Rumple muttered, “Truth or Dare?”
“Truth!”
Rumple moved Belle to his side and kept them walking along the pier. He pursed his lips and swayed his head playing at putting some serious consideration into the devious question he would ask. The question she would have no choice but to answer with complete honesty. Rolling her eyes at the theatrics, Belle waited with bated breath.
“What is the last lie you told?”
Belle snapped her head up in surprise. She really should’ve known that the infamous Rumpelstiltskin, wordsmith extraordinaire, would’ve chosen a question meant to disarm her. The look of smug satisfaction on his face made her want to kiss it right off him, but that could wait.
“Hmmm I don’t lie very often.”
“Well you’re a saint, darling, but try your hardest to think of something.”
Ignoring his sarcasm, Belle answered, “Last week at Granny’s, Snow and Red were arguing about how often a couple should have sex. I happened to walk in for a cup of tea, and somehow got trapped in the conversation.” At this Rumple snorted and Belle elbowed him in the ribs, “Anyway,” she said pointedly, “Snow was saying that after a couple has children, they’ll be lucky to have sex every few months! She expected me to agree, and well….clearly she and David are going through a dry spell and I didn’t want to make her feel bad…..so I just kind of smiled and didn’t disagree with her.”
“That’s it? A lie of omission?”
“It’s still a lie.”
“Barely.”
“Oh please, it counts and you, sir,” she pointed a manicured finger at him, “are filled with glee to know that we’re having more sex than the king and queen.”
Rumple chuckled and played at trying to bite her finger.
“Your turn! Truth or Dare?” The sparkle in Belle’s eyes made playing this ridiculous game worth it.
“Dare”
“I dare you……to sneak into Granny’s Diner and leave three hundred and fifty dollars in the tip jar. You mustn’t be seen and you can’t use magic.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You have to! That’s the game.”
“What makes you think I have that large amount of money on me.”
“…….”
“Ok. I have that amount, but I don’t see why I should give it to — wait. Is it possible Granny is having trouble making rent this month?”
Belle arranged her face into what she hoped was the picture of innocence. “Life is full of possibilities.”
“Uh huh, only you my dearest Belle could take what’s supposed to be a devious game and turn it into a tool for good deeds.”
“It’s a gift.”
“I only have hundred dollar bills on me. Do you have change?”
“No, but I’m happy to amend the dare from three fifty to four hundred.”
“How flexible of you.”
Belle grinned and grabbed the collar of his coat pulling him down for a kiss designed to leave him breathless. She pressed her body against his and sunk her fingertips into his hair pulling on the short locks. When she let him up for air, she whispered, “Complete your task and, maybe afterwards, I’ll show you just how flexible I can be.”
Without giving him a chance to blink, she pulled away and walked ahead of him. If she hadn’t been wearing such high heels he was certain she’d be skipping. Rumple just stood there reminding himself how to breathe and with a shake of his head thought, So this is what it feels like to know you’re being manipulated and not care in the least.
— - - - - - - - - - - - - -
In the end, the dare was quite easy to accomplish. At that time of night Granny’s only had a few patrons, thankfully the kind that liked to keep to themselves, and the only people working were a short-order cook and Granny herself. The plan had been to wait until Granny went into the back, and then Rumple would quietly walk through the front door, slip the money into the tip jar, and continue out the back door where Belle would be waiting.
But as Rumple waited just outside the front door for the opportune moment, a giant crash could be heard and Granny went running to the back of the building.Before Rumple could register what was happening, he saw Belle scurrying down the street and Granny in the back yelling something about “damned raccoons.” Knowing it was now or never, Rumple whipped open the door, ran towards the tip jar sitting innocuously next to the cash register, and it wasn’t so much that he stopped at the counter rather that the counter stopped him—his custom-made Italian shoes weren’t made for quick movements on freshly mopped floors. So after slamming into the counter, he hastily shoved the cash into the jar, and hightailed it back out the front door.
Miraculously, no one saw him.
He found Belle hiding next to the pharmacy doubled over with snorts of laughter muffled by her hands. Her feet were bare and she was holding onto only one of her shoes. She tried to explain between giant huffs of laughter, but Rumple simply held up a hand and said, “Belle mishap.” Before Belle could ask what that meant, he gathered her in his arms and snapping his fingers *poofed* them back to their house in a cloud of magic.
Belle was still giggling as they stumbled into their entryway kissing and pawing at each others clothing. Rumple wasn’t one to let other’s emotions effect him, but Belle’s joy swept them up creating an elation he’d never known before. They landed in front of the fireplace which had magically been lit and several fluffy blankets and pillows spread out before it.
Smiling like a fool, Rumple pecked kisses over Belle’s body as more and more skin was revealed to him. Her lingerie was nothing like the black corset ensemble he’d missed out on. Instead she wore a sheer forest green bralette with matching hip hugging panties. It was staggering in its simplicity, highlighting the fairness of her skin and giving her curves freedom to move. He delighted in it; kissing and biting and even tickling the spots he knew were most sensitive. Between breathy laughs Belle managed to divest Rumple of his own clothes, and they took their time reveling in each other.
Their previous lovemaking had been permeated with an intense need to show their love and devotion with their bodies. Trying to make up for all the past hurt by clinging to each other while they physically connected as close as possible for two humans to be. But this time was about joy and happiness. Their was no rush to reach their bliss. It would most certainly come, but this was about loving each other with light not darkness. Belle found a few of Rumple’s ticklish spots and for a moment lovemaking was paused in favor of a naked tickle fight until one of Belle’s legs ended up hooking over Rumple’s shoulder putting them in a delicious position that neither could pass up. With mirth in their eyes, a wordless conversation passed between them about Belle’s promised flexibility.
They rocked together at a rhythm they both knew so well. The familiarity was far from boring. Instead they loved each other with gratitude as deep as their kisses. They were so lucky to know each other this well and for this long. The happiness on Belle’s face was mirrored by his own. It felt like sunlight surrounded them and clear blue skies were reflected in Belle’s eyes. Rumple realized that this was what fun was - it was turning your face towards the sun even on a cloudy day. It was actively finding joy and laughter, and if you can’t find it, you make it. Just like Belle did.
Afterwards, they lounged by the fire enjoying lazy kisses and caresses. They teased each other about the horrendous dinner they endured, and Belle told him about Lacey’s memories saving their date night.
“So what other games does little Lacey remember?”
Belle thought for a moment before ticking off her fingers, “Well there’s Spin the Bottle, Seven Minutes in Heaven, Never Have I Ever-”
“Hmmm group games,” Rumple grumbled.
“We could play Two Truths and A Lie.”
“You would dare play a game that requires deception with words with Rumpelstiltskin?”
“Oh I think I could manage.”
Rumple tutted and pinched her side making Belle squeak, “Ok, but you go first.”
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Christmas Secrets
Ho Ho Ho, @jackabelle73 ! Now that it has gone midnight for both of us I can complete my job as Santa and deliver your gift!
It was so much fun writing for you, including things you'd mentioned and accidentally including things you would mention in the future, like Rumple not singing. 😉
Now, this was written during a whole lot of driving around at all hours to play with cats, and while playing with the cats themselves. I figured that was even more appropriate for you, so please pardon anything out of place. Just nudge me that something is cat-altered and I'll happily correct it.
Have a wonderful holiday!
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Two days to go!
You have about two days left to sign up for Rumbelle Secret Santa! The sign-ups close on Friday night around midnight (EST). So far, there are just a handful of participants. It’s (barely) enough to make the event work, and it’d be wonderful if some more people signed up! The more the merrier, and all that.
Thank you so much to everyone who has signed up already! Your prompts have been excellent, and I’m so glad we’re able to keep this event alive together. 🧡
Have I not convinced you to participate yet? Let’s play dirty, then… If you want me to let our Rumple out of this cage, all you need to do is sign up. Don’t keep him waiting…
#rumbelle secret santa#rss 2023#the last part is just my attempt at being funny#how did he end up in a cage?#i kidnapped him of course!
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Hi there! Santa is here!
How are things going?
I haven’t really started writing yet as I am still trying to make up a plot.
I do have an idea for the start and the finish. Anyway, it is definitely going to be Regency, that much I can tell you!
What are some things in historical fiction that just touch all your right buttons?
I know you want some angst, unrequited love that isn’t actually unrequited so that’s also being worked on.
And do you want Gold to be more mysterious, witty, secretly woobie?
What do you like most about Belle?
Oh and how do you feel about Bae being included?
Till next time!
Hi, Santa! It’s so good to hear from you. I’ve been alright, but it’s the most hectic time of year. I feel like I’m falling behind in 20 different ways.
Oooh I’m excited for a regency set fic! I think the thing I love most about historical romance is the UST, right? Every lingering glance, every brush of hands, it all hints at this seething pent up desire that they have to keep hidden behind cravats and petticoats. The idea that there’s this strict code of conduct that (especially women) are held to but there’s this simmering rage or desire or passion just beneath the surface. I live for the repressed feelings basically. And the men in billowing white poet shirts.
As for Gold, I like him how he is in canon. Mysterious, steps ahead of everyone else, conniving, extremely hilarious, cloaked in darkness, but with a soft woobie center he only shows to a select few people.
What I love most about Belle is her ability to see through people’s bullshit. She’s not easily taken in by a pretty face (like Gaston). I know people seem to think she’s naive or too trusting of rumple but I don’t see that. She knew who he really was and she was right. She saw through his bullshit. I also love that she’s the smartest person in the room and she owns it. She knows her worth. I like a Belle with confidence (though I realize I write a lot of Belle’s who’ve lost said confidence).
I’m all for including Bae! He makes Rumple the character he is.
Thanks for checking in, Santa!
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Make Me Feel Alive Again - the fanmix ;-)
Link to the story || Link to the fanmix
I love making fanmixes to go with stories. Because I enjoyed talking about music with @kelyon so much, I decided to not skip on that tradition this Secret Santa!
While I shall try not to over-analyze or be too verbose about the song choices, we all know intent is meaningless and this might get wordier than I like. Apologies in advance.
The fanmix opens with (the only) Japanese song in the mix, the title song from the movie Suzume (which I have yet to see) but which encapsulates the magical and sweet mood I wanted perfectly. Furthermore, I often start fanmixes with instrumental or foreign songs I don't understand so the writing begins before I get swept away in English lyrics and they can't distract me from writing anymore.
There's a few songs in the category "sexy songs", including Close to You by Neon Trees and Wicked Games by the Weeknd. Sadly they couldn't inspire me to write smut. (But I blame covid for that.)
Then there are a few songs that go perfectly with the theme of the story itself - "make me feel alive again" - Black Roses Red by Alana Grace was my first choice, because it fits so well, but there's also Hearts a Mess by Gotye and Every Time it Rains by Charlotte Martin. (I love her. She's so good.)
I added an Alanis Morissette song which I quite like - Torch - which helped set the mood for the second bit of the story. And I know kelyon likes Alanis too, so yeay!
Then furthermore, I also added in three songs which have Belgian roots, where chances are higher these are new songs to you which fit Rumbelle quite well. Hearts a Mess by Gotye is one (though Gotye is only born in Belgium but spent most of his life in Australia, so he's not particularly known as a Belgian artist internationally), Believe in Me by Zornik, a band that has its roots twenty minutes from where I live - and which is such a beautiful song that fits Rumbelle well. (There's also another version of the song out there, not-acoustic, which you might wanna check out. And plenty of other Zornik songs are great.) And then I finished the entire fanmix with You Always Know Your Home by Ozark Henry and Sarah Bettens, two of the greatest musicians we have in this little country.
There's a few other songs in there, maybe more filler or generalized Rumbelle-feelings-inducing - like the Rob Thomas song or the supersad song from Lamb - and I couldn't not include Snow Patrol, one of my fav bands.
I hope you enjoy giving the songs a listen, and that maybe you find some new songs to inspire you as well! Thanks for being my giftee this year, kelyon!
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Well hello hello there. This is your secret Santa getting in touch to ask some questions for things you might like baked into your gift.
1* Is there something that has been left out of Rumbelle that you wish were included?
2* Is there something about winter celebrations that you absolutely adore?
3* Do you favor Lacy or a Belle?
I am sure I will have more to come.
Enjoy the rest of your holiday weekend if you are celebrating it.
Hello, Santa! So glad to hear from you! To address your questions:
#1 — The main thing I wanted from canon was for Rumbelle to work together, instead of fighting all the time. I would love to see a story where they use their combined intellect to achieve a mutual goal.
#2 — The music. Even though so much Christmas music is religious, and I’m not religious, I just love the songs as songs.
#3 — This one is tough, b/c it all depends on what kind of story you want to tell. I love both Belle and Lacey, but they each fit into their own kind of story. So I’ll leave it up to you. I’m sure I’ll love it.
I’ll tag this, and all following responses, as #santa 2023.
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If You Will Be My Queen
Fandom: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Characters: Belle, Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold, Mad Hatter | Jefferson, Grace | Paige (Once Upon a Time)
Additional Tags: Holiday Fic Exchange, Rumbelle Secret Santa (Once Upon a Time), Solstice, Winter, Storybrooke, The Enchanted Forest, The Dark Castle (Once Upon a Time)
Summary:
Belle decides that it is past time that Rumplestiltskin should decorate for Midwinter, and celebrate the seasons, now that they have Gideon to share it with, but an important item from the past is missing, and Belle will not rest until it is found. Not that it is truly missing. Rumplestiltskin knows where it is, but has locked it away, beyond all retrieval. Or has he…?
A Winter RSS gift for @chippedcupwrites - thank you for the prompts. It was fun to write this, even if some parts of it did take me by surprise :) (i.e. the characters took charge of the story. Of course that /never/ happens, right?).
Read on AO3
If You Will Be My Queen
The unmistakable sounds of a robbery in progress stopped Gold in his tracks, his hand frozen, outstretched, half way toward the door of the pawn shop with the key extended from his fingers.
The sign on the shop door read closed, and while he was by now quite used to the residents of Storybrooke completely ignoring the missive, this blatant disregard for his authority over his own property riled his temper beyond boiling. But for having promised Belle he would limit the use of his magic, he would have stopped the intruder’s heart from a distance without a second thought, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt them by physical means.
Enhanced, he thought to himself as a swirl of dark purple smoke surrounded him, and transported him the few inches to the other side of the door, by a small touch of magic.
Without a sound, he reached out with his right hand toward the umbrella stand that was the resting place of his cane. He no longer needed it, of course, and hadn’t for many years, but he kept it there, right by the door, as a kind of memento to a time long passed, when he was a man that made too many wrong choices.
He wasn’t that man any more.
As stealthily as he could, not wanting to alert the intruder of his presence, and in the back of his mind knowing that he should call Sheriff Swan, or her deputy - though he still couldn’t bring himself to think of the man that way - he crossed the shop floor toward the back room, still separated after all the years with the curtain that was hanging in the doorway. He wondered idly if that would ever change.
With one hand he reached out to finger the edge of the fabric, hefting the cane with the other, ready to strike out; to defend his property. His things. And then, he struck.
Springing forward like a deranged Jack-in-the-Box he crossed the threshold into the back room, where boxes were strewn hither and yon, and a small figure crouched over one of them, he raised the cane higher, ready to bring it down, halted only in the last breath by a shrill, alarmed cry.
“Rumple!”
“Belle,” he breathed and all but dropped the cane to the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”
The question came out as a breathless rush, an entire, horrible scenario flashing before his eyes.
“What am I doing,” she retorted, standing up and turning to face him, pointing at the grounded cane. “What are you? You could have caved my head in with that thing. What’s going on?”
“Where’s Gideon?” he asked at the same time.
“Oh no,” her voice barely withheld a bitter laugh, “You don’t sidestep the question like that. What were you thinking, Rumple?”
“What was I supposed to think? You said you were going to be home. With Gideon,” he added the last two words as a sentence all of their own. “I thought someone had broken in and was burglarizing me–”
“I was.” Belle interrupted, and Rumple blinked. If he wasn’t so shaken he might have made a joke about Belle burglarizing the shop, and possibly defused the storm he could feel brewing. As it was, he didn’t say anything, just waited. She obviously had more to say. “Then I thought about decorating for winter and–”
“No,” he said flatly, but Belle shook her head.
“So I went up in the loft to see if I could find the decorations, and–”
“No,” he said again, even more adamantly, feeling his already bubbling temper threatening to spill over again.
“--when I couldn’t find them, I figured they were probably here so–”
“Belle,” he snapped her name, “we are not decorating for winter.”
She blinked at him, her expression half way between shock and outrage, and that was fair he supposed. He hadn’t spoken to her like that since… well he couldn’t remember the last time. Maybe not since the dark castle. At least she wasn’t talking about winter decorations any more.
His stomach roiled when he thought about it; the cold, the abandonment, the hurt… the loss. Winter was nothing to be celebrated.
“Rumplestitskin,” she said softly, but when he looked at her he could see she had a fire in her eyes of the kind that he couldn’t often extinguish, even when, like now, he wanted to the most. “We are decorating for winter,” he opened his mouth to protest again, but closed it as if he were some kind of Dionaea Muscipula as she continued, “and we are inviting our friends to our home to help us celebrate.”
He spluttered, fuming and helpless with it. How dare she presume - because he knew she would have presumed to invite said friends already - to force the Midwinter Solstice upon him! In the face of his speechlessness, Belle smoothed down her skirt, cocked an eyebrow and completely unapologetically, demanded, “Now, you are going to help me unpack these boxes and find the winter decorations, or the chances are I’m going to end up inadvertently damaging your things, or touching something I’m not supposed to.”
“Like winter decorations,” he muttered, not truly intending for her to hear him, but of course she did.
“Rumple!” she warned, pointing an unyielding finger like some kind of magic wand at the stack of boxes that were piled like the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
“Fine,” he protested, though it was far from it. “Have it your way. But we are not–”
“Rumple,” she growled softly, and took his hand to pull him closer to the offending shadows that threatened to pull him back into the past, and she took down a box to place it on the workbench, and deftly pulled it open to reveal the maelstrom of memories within.
**
“What on Earth is all this?” Belle asked, flummoxed as the Dark One placed the last of the boxes squarely into her unsuspecting arms.
“Trinkets,” he giggled impishly. “Baubles, sparklies… evergreens.” Her frown deepened, as he added, “and bedding… for the upstairs bedrooms.”
“Guests?” she blinked at him. “We’re expecting guests?”
“Of course we’re expecting guests,” he scoffed, and as if it explained everything, added, “It’s Midwinter. Keep up!”
“Mid–” she broke off as soon as she had started, because no sooner had he confirmed that guests were coming, than he turned and began to stride toward the exit of the great hall. She trotted after him, trying to obey his instruction to keep up, at least until she had her answers. “But Rumplestiltskin, you’ve never–”
He turned on her, and wagged a finger, almost playfully side to side in admonition. “Never, dearie, is a very long time. Far longer than you have in any case.” Then, sing song he continued, “I on the other hand–”
“Who?” she asked, her curiosity too extensive to contain.
“--don’t interrupt,” Rumplestiltskin answered, “Now where was I? Ah yes… I on the other hand–”
“Who are we expecting?” she interrupted again.
“How rude,” he sulked, and then conceded. “A friend.”
“A friend?” she repeated in a slightly questioning tone, managing to contain the rest of what she had been thinking. Did the Dark One truly have any real friends?”
“That’s what I said,” he answered irritably. “Do you have a problem with your HEARING?”
He leaned closer to almost shout the question into her ear, and she flinched, jumping almost several feet backwards, before, as he turned to continue his striding, this time toward the castle doors, she began to hurry to catch up to him.
“Rumplestiltskin,” she called after him. “Where are you going?”
As she reached his side, and struggled to match him stride for stride she caught him muttering to himself, and certainly not the answer to her question - simply a bunch of numbers - measurements she realized as she listened more closely, and allowed herself to be lulled by them until the incongruency slapped her squarely in the face as she heard the list of tasks that were now falling from his lips.
“Sweep the floors, lay the fires, as well as the one in the great hall, make the beds, draw the water, and of course prepare the food and beverages–”
“Where are you going?” she asked again, and once again he stopped in his tracks.
“To see a man about a tree,” he answered, then demanded, “Why are you still here?”
“You’re going to ask a man to fell you a tree for Midwinter?” she asked, incredulity in her voice. “Why don’t you just…” she imitated his usual flourish, and then snapped her fingers at the end.
Rumplestiltskin made a face as shocked as when her father had called him a beast all those many months - over a year at least - before.
“My dear Belle,” he began as the expression faded. “There are some taboos that even the Dark One himself will not break, and using magic to acquire a Winter Tree is one of them. Why the price! The price alone…” he broke off muttering to himself for a moment before he blinked at her as if noticing her for the first time. “Are you still here?”
“Well, you didn’t tell me who is coming; how many or… anything. I don’t have nearly enough ingredients to make Holiday dishes for anyone let alone–”
“You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen, dearie.” he answered, slipping into a thick brogue. “And be sure to include plenty of sweeties.”
“Sweeties,” she mouthed, asking herself - not for the first time since this whole exchange had started - whether Rumplestiltskin had finally lost his senses.
“And tea… and spiced wine… hot apple cider…” he began ticking off items on his fingers, “and roasted turkey… a juicy ham…”
“And a partridge in a pear tree,” she cut in.
Rumplestiltskin frowned.
“Well,” he considered, “I think we can do without the pears, but a partridge, if you’ve a mind, of course.”
Belle shook her head, and asked with heavy irony, “Anything else?”
“I don’t think so,” he answered in all seriousness, “Though when I get back with the tree, I’ll be needing you to help with the trimming of it, of course. Must always be balance in the trimming of the Yuletide Boughs, and you and I’ll be spinning silver for some time, I feel.”
He stopped then, and frowned, “Still here? Run along now, dearie. Work to do…”
She was about to open her mouth to answer him, when the world around her dissolved into purple smoke.
**
“Belle, you’ve enough baubles, and ribbons, and Yule candles to decorate the entire house three times over. Enough,” Rumple said softly as Belle tore through yet another box that had been tucked away, forgotten in the back corner of the back corner of the back room.
“No,” she growled. “It has to be here somewhere, and I intend to find it.”
“It isn’t here,” he implored with his tone for her to stop looking, but she read him an entirely different way; the right way of course, as well he might have known.
She rounded on him angrily, “What did you do with it?”
“Belle, I–”
“No, Rumple,” she held up her hands, “Tell me. Where is it?”
There was silence between them then. A silence so thick with unresolved tension that it was almost choking him to imagine it. Thicker even than the time in the Underworld when he’d had to tell her she was pregnant with his child; their son Gideon, now returned to them of course, but…
“Belle…” he faltered again.
“Tell me!” she demanded, her face shifting between the ugliness of anger and despair, back and forth with each breath.
“There are… some things…” he began haltingly, “some things so dangerous, so painful, and so powerful that even I dare not include in the Dark Curse; to bring them here to Storybrooke,” he reached for her hands to draw them away from the box he knew contained nothing but irrelevant minutiae. Relics of the lives of people long gone.
“So… where is it?”
“The Vault,” he said softly, “Back at the Dark Castle.”
“Still in the Enchanted Forest?” she said, and her face creased with disbelief and deeper despair. “You mean we can’t–”
“I… I didn’t say that, Belle,” he promised softly, “It’s just…” He sighed, and closed his eyes, unable to look at the hurt, and the tears gathering in hers. “I didn’t mean to keep it from you. Keep anything from you come to that Belle, but… when I thought–” His voice cracked.
“Rumple, I’m here.” He felt her take his hands; felt how solid they were, how warm against the sudden chill, as if the approaching midwinter night had sapped him of his vitality. She grounded him. She gave him light and life.
“If I could,” he whispered, leaning his forehead to hers, “If I even thought I could, I would try to reach across realms and bring it to you, but… I don’t think I can. The hold it has over me is just too strong.”
“You can,” she told him. “I know you can.”
He shook his head, still against hers, until she pulled back and pinned him with the wild, deep, ocean blue of her gaze that bared his soul.
“It doesn’t matter how far away it is; how deeply buried, nor how tightly warded it is,” she told him. “We made it together, and I won’t let you keep it from us now. Not like this. Not out of fear.”
**
“Are you out of your mind?”
Belle stood with her hands on her hips staring - no glaring - at Rumplestiltskin after the most preposterous suggestion had left his lips, a basket of golden garland that he had spun and woven into the most beautiful of Winter decor for the Dark Castle’s Midwinter Tree stood like a chasm between them.
“Quite possibly,” he answered, an impish grin on his face that faded to a half teasing sneer. “But I’m also right. You can do it. You and only you.”
“But…” she half turned, pointing behind her toward the door, as though to some imaginary person. “Rumplestiltskin, no…” she turned again, to face him. “I’ve heard the tales, everyone has. How using magic will darken a person’s soul and…”
She trailed off as he made a soft tutting sound while at the same time shaking his head and appearing to examine his clawed fingers.
“You wouldn’t want to disappoint a little girl now,” he looked up, an almost innocent pout on his face, “would you?”
“No!” she said flatly. “I won’t let you manipulate me like that.” But in truth his words had touched her heart. As much to remind herself as Rumplestiltskin she said, “No. Dark. Magic.”
“Assume… assume… assume,” he sang softly.
“What are you talking about?” she snapped.
“It’s just a garland,” he answered. “It’s not as if I’m asking you to murder all the puppies and kittens in the enchanted forest.”
“Dark magic–”
“Not the same.” he tipped his head from side to side as he spoke his words in the same sing-song tone. “Quite different… alternative… not dark magic.”
“Rumplestiltskin–”
“Light magic.” He said the words slowly, as though they were somehow foreign on his tongue, but Belle couldn’t have been happier to hear them.
“Light magic?” she repeated, just to be sure she had heard him correctly.
“Yes, yes,” he brushed the words off this time as though they were a dusting of snow on his shoulders. “That’s what I said. Back to hard of hearing are we?”
“Don’t you see, Rumple,” she didn’t think what she was saying and shortened the words, blushing when he turned a scowl her way. Still she pressed on. “This is it.”
“It?” his frown deepened into confusion. “It what?”
“This proves it,” she hardly heard his question. “That you’re the one that will use…”
“...use the powers of the Dark One for good,” he chanted at the same time as she. “That old chestnut. No.” He moved toward her then, to stand almost toe to toe. “You, dearie. You must be the one to wield the Solstice magic. You and no other… and poof the golden garland shall be silver.”
She jumped as he emphasized the sound, then turned and frowned at him as he began to move behind her, catching her to stillness as she asked, “What…?” and licked her lips as he moved closer still behind her, “What must I do?”
“Little,” he purred, moving with her toward the pile of gold, “Pick it up,” She reached down to take one end of the golden garland into her palms. It was cold, and she shivered; again she shivered as Rumplestiltskin moved closer. The front of him pressed against her back, hot… muscled… solid.
“Hold it,” he murmured against the side of her face, “caress it… run it through your fingers…”
She felt herself grow warmer and warmer still with every word and every breath that ghosted against her cheek. She closed her eyes, and leaned against him. She felt his arms surround her, his fingers at her wrists, his talons scratching gently at her skin as he guided her to slowly feed the cold, golden garland through her hands. His words never stopped, but she lost awareness of them; knew only the strength and the heat of him… and the rhythmic motion of the braid that played through her hands.
A flash brighter than the brightest star shone through even her closed eyes. She opened them and watched in a strange, detached fascination as the gold became silver in her hands, flowing like a molten river of moonlight from one hand to the other, to spill over into the basket on the ground at her feet.
The light faded. The moment was gone, and Belle laughed.
“Hmmm,” Rumplestiltskin purred against her cheek, teasing. “Seems like my little cherub is happy about something.”
“Oh, Rumple,” she giggled, turning about in his arms and laying the flat of her palms against his chest. “How did I do that?”
“Magic, dearie,” he answered gravely, “A magic all of your own, but then… I told you, there had to be balance on the Winter Tree.”
He snapped his fingers then, and the silver garland found a life of its own, whirling around to fly from where they stood and nestle itself around the tree, a perfect compliment to the gold already twinkling among the evergreen, and not a moment too soon.
A polite cough sounded from the doorway to the great hall, and both turned, Rumplestiltskin starting almost guiltily away from her, leaving her feeling strangely abandoned… bereft, but there wasn’t a moment to wallow in the feeling, and her joy soon returned to see Rumplestiltskin’s portal jumping friend - and yes, she realized in that moment, he was Rumple’s friend - standing in the doorway, hat in one hand, and the pale hand of his sweet young daughter held in the other.
“May we…?” Jefferson asked politely, though he raised an eyebrow at Belle, deepening her blush.
“Of course, m’boy,” Rumplestiltskin answered, already part way across the great hall toward the pair. “Come in and warm yourself by the fire. You must be perished.” Then half turning as he swooped and caught the wide eyed Grace up in his arms, he suggested, “How about some hot apple cider, Belle, to chase away the chill before dinner.”
**
Laughter drew Belle back to the main room of the house, and to the merriment well underway. Snow and David, Emma and Killian, Ruby, Archie, Granny, Leroy and the boys, everyone had accepted the invitation, and showed up with sweet dishes, and savory treats, as well as copious quantities of wine, mead, fine whiskey and rum, all to celebrate the day of the year when at last the light overcame the dark.
It seemed fitting, in the aftermath of everything that had happened in Storybrooke, and that they could come together at Rumple’s house - no… at the home she shared with Rumple and their son - made her feel accepted at last, and she hoped Rumple would feel the same.
“There you are,” even as she thought of him, as though she had conjured him from the air itself, Gold cozied up behind her, surrounding her in a warm embrace, “I was about to send the sheriff out to look for you.”
Belle looked over in the direction of Rumple’s nod to watch as Emma stumbled mid step, safely caught by Killian, who made some kind of ribald joke about how she couldn’t hold her liquor.
Belle chuckled. “I’m not sure she’s fit for duty right now.”
“As it should be,” Rumple answered, snuggling her closer. “Where’d you go?”
“To check on Gideon.” She leaned against him, nuzzling softly at his chin, and her eyes drifted to the tree that stood in pride of place in the corner of the room. It was magnificent, though as she looked on it, it still drew a pang of disappointment deep into Belle’s heart to see only red ribbon, white lights and golden garland adorning the tree.
She couldn’t fault Rumple for trying, but as hard as he had tried, the vault refused to release the silver twin to his magical summons.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Rumple tightened his arms around her and said softly, “Belle, I’m sorry I couldn’t…”
He trailed off and she followed the direction of his gaze. Across the room, Jefferson, resplendent in his finest, foppish attire, handed a small pouch to Grace, and gave her a gentle push their way, offering a wry salute, and a genuine smile of delight as he caught them looking his way.
“Papa said I should bring this to you, and tell you Winter Blessings, Uncle Rumple, and Miss Belle.”
“Why, thank you, Grace,” Rumple answered, and glanced back across to where Jefferson had been moments ago. When she, too, looked, the man was nowhere to be seen, and Grace, too, seemed to have vanished.
“I wonder what…?” Belle said, and took the pouch from Rumple’s fingers, beginning to work at the knot. She couldn’t help but laugh when she opened it, and took out what was inside.
“Mistletoe,” she said, and playfully turned in Rumple’s arms to hold it over the top of both of them.
“Mistletoe.” Rumple chuckled then. “Trust Jefferson. Remember that time when–”
Belle waggled the sprig once more over the top of his head. “Mister Gold, the tradition is that one should kiss beneath the mistletoe, not reminisce.”
“Kissing and much more, if you go back far enough,” he teased. “Thinking of a sibling for Gideon already?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she answered, blushing fiercely.
“Gladly, Missus Gold,” he said.
His lips met hers, softly and full of all the love they ever had held for one another, gathered into a single moment. She felt the pulse of magic as soon as it began. Not just True Love, but a love that also held the blessing of the season. Solstice blessings - the turning of the wheel of the year in all present.
In an instant, gone was the somber suit that Rumple wore, to be replaced by a magnificent outfit of deep green and gold, and on his head a crown of oak leaves, adorned with silver, snow-tipped acorns, and as she caught sight of herself in the window, mirrored by the dark night outside, Belle saw that her dress was now a beautiful robe in silvery blue, with silver and white edging.
“Rumple,” she gasped softly, and stepped back to take in the full sight of him. “How did you do that?”
“Not me, my love,” he murmured, flicking his eyes up to the mistletoe still held in her hand. “But I seem to remember that once I told you one must always have balance at the turning of the seasons.”
“Well, you truly look like The Winter King,” she told him softly, frowning as he shook his head, and with a snap of his fingers, offered to her a delicate filigree crown with shining diamonds, and icy white moonstones woven within.
“Only if you will be my queen,” he said.
“I will,” she breathed, and lowered her head to receive the crown from him.
Joyous applause sounded from around them, as their guests each raised a glass to toast the longest night, and the returning of the light, and all were suddenly bathed in the brightness of an echoing flash, and then by waves of gold and silver, as the firelight reflected off the gold and magical silver garland entwined, and adorning the Sacred Winter Tree.
#RSS#Rumbelle secret santa 2023#holiday fic#winter#solstice#storybrooke#the enchanted forest#the dark castle
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just stumbled on some freelance composer guy who publishes his thoughts on various academic and pop culture topics just rambling as he walks around in 10-min audio chunks and the way i found this was by googling a very specific academic analysis on auden and found an ‘episode’ of his analysing taylor swift’s phrases and calling them “absolutely audenesque”. god Love online
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Ask Us Anything: Submit Your Questions For Our Next Issue
New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/ask-us-anything-submit-your-questions-for-our-next-issue/
Ask Us Anything: Submit Your Questions For Our Next Issue
In each issue, Game Informer prints questions that are submitted by readers via email and standard mail. We’d like to give our website readers the chance to make the magazine as well.
You’ll need to log in to your GI account and click “okay to print” for your letter or question to go through. We’d also love it if you included your location (city, state, or country will do). We’ll look through the questions and pick a few to include in our next issue, which releases on January 30.
For each issue, we ask our community a question for our SoundOff section. This time around, we want to know…
“Which gaming platform do you see yourself using the most in 2024 and why?”
You can answer this question and/or include any other feedback/questions you want. Thank you again for your support throughout the years, and we hope many of you get the chance to have your letter printed in an upcoming issue!
Submit Your Question or Letter
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2023年12月28日の記事一覧
2023年12月28日の記事一覧
http://dailyfeed.jp/feed/23663/2023-12-28
(全 3 件)
1. 川井憲次 - 素直になれない
2. 川井憲次 - 見えてきた解決
3. 川井憲次 - もう時間がない!
via 複数のRSSをまとめるのデイリーフィード - DailyFeed http://dailyfeed.jp/feed/23663
December 29, 2023 at 05:00AM
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the one thing that always irks me about these rats-on-a-sinking-ship events which seem to happen repeatedly every few years is no one can organize a single fucking site to go on. is "scatter!!!" the method that works? mutual 1 goes to bluesky, mutual 2 goes to cohost, mutual 3 writes messages in jpegs from neocities? i'm not gonna do all that every single day just to keep up w all of you
#i know rss feeds are a thing but i can't seem to get one going in 2023#maybe i should try harder lmao#but like. im on tumblr because im lazy...
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Ho, ho, ho, it is I, your most secret santa, here to deliver tidings of joy and, hopefully, either Rumple or Belle tied up. I hope you and your loved ones are well and getting ready for the joys of december. Here things are hectic, as they always are during this time of the year, but I'm excited. Let's get down to business, though, shall we? I wanted to ask you more about your prompt. Did you have anything specific in mind when you thought about it? A specific interpretation or a way in which it would influence the plot. And what about preferences? Do you prefer FTL or SB? Any characters you love and wanna see pop up? Any you hate? Any non-rumbelle dynamics that you enjoy? All of this will help me think about a prompt so all answers are very welcome! Looking forward to getting to know you through this process!
Seasons greetings to you my secret santa! This holiday season is particularly chaotic for me and my family because we just moved to Prague four months ago! Basically starting from scratch to celebrate - finding places for cheap but good decorations, learning traditional ways they celebrate and figuring out how to incorporate them with our own traditions. It’s overwhelming, exciting, and hard work. So I signed up for Secret Santa this year as a familiar and comforting present to myself. But as you said, down to business —— I leave the prompt interpretation entirely in your creative hands. Please feel free to do anything you want with it. Even if I have to squint to see how it fulfills the prompt, that’s ok with me! I tend to prefer SB over FTL but I don’t feel strongly about it. I can’t stand Zelena and the Blue Fairy. I love the Ariel and Belle friendship and Belle/Ruby friendship. I love Gold having a friend (poor lonely wooby) whether it’s Gold/Regina, Gold/Jefferson, or Gold/David. As for non-Rumbelle relationships hmmmm I always like to see Ruby and Dorothy because I wanted to see more of them on the show. And I’m a sucker for Leroy and Astrid. They’re like watching a rainbow cuddle a storm cloud and it makes my heart pop.
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Sounds like you have some wonderful advent traditions! By puzzles do you mean jigsaw puzzles? Cos I LOVE jigsaw puzzles! I've also found myself tempted by a whisky advent calendar before but never actually got one. And it's been years since I've played Lord of the Rings Online but the thought of collecting winter horses and doing jigs on peoples roofs may draw me back...
Just today I hopped on my reindeer and rode him up on someone's rooftop while waiting for the rest of my fellowship to complete their quests. Lol
And yes, I do mean jigsaws. I am a bit of an addict, I'm afraid.
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Sign-ups are OPEN!
Are you ready to Rumbelle? I hope so, because the sign-ups start NOW! You’ll have time to sign up until Friday the 24th, 11:59PM EST.
Here’s what you need to know:
Rumbelle Secret Santa gifts are exchanged at some point between December 23rd and December 27th. And don’t forget that you must send your partner Anonymous Love at least once a week leading to that date. You must also enable your own Ask to accept messages from Anon, and publish replies to the Asks your Santa sends to you.
In order to receive a gift from one of our Secret Santas, you must agree to supply a gift to someone else. It’s a community-wide exchange, and it’s no fun if people don’t get into the spirit and MAKE A THING.
To sign up, send an email to [email protected].
We will not be accepting sign-ups via Ask, because we need a more reliable way than Tumblr to contact you.
You will need to include four things in your email:
1) Your Tumblr Username / URL
2) A 5-word (maximum) prompt for your Santa
3) Are you willing (but not guaranteed) to create and receive porn? YES SMUT or NO SMUT.
4) Are you willing (but not guaranteed) to work on an Anyelle prompt? YES ANYELLE or NO ANYELLE. If you give a prompt that specifically asks for Anyelle, you must be willing to fill someone else’s Anyelle prompt in return.
-4a) If YES ANYELLE, feel free to include preferred pairings you’d be interested in reading/writing
We will get back to you twice:
1) To tell you we got your enrollment and prompt, probably just a quick reply to your email.
2) To tell you who you will be Santa-ing and to give you a prompt to fill. This year, prompts will probably go out on November 25th (or November 26th at the latest).
If you would like a run-down of the rules, feel free to visit our Participation Page and our FAQ Page. If you have any additional questions/concerns, feel free to reach out to me via ask.
I can’t wait to hear from you!
-TheDeadDollsCorpse
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