Okay, so this is my first fanfic in…goodness, years. But this ship needs fluff so badly right now, and even if it’s silly, pointless fluff it can maybe avert a few casualties in this war we’re having which I have been enjoying, yes. Also, this hasn’t been read by anyone else, so any mistakes are mine. I hope you guys like it!
For the record, this is the little beastie himself.
Can’t I Keep Him?
Mr. Gold eyed the thing in Belle’s arms with disinterest and perhaps some mild contempt. It was wet and muddy and mangy. How she could even bear having its stinking mass in arms was beyond him, considering it was getting her dress dirty and ensuring she would smell like wet vermin for a while. He spoke before she even had time to ask.
And here it is, the Iceberg to sink our Rumbelle ship. This took me way longer than usual to write, because it was literally just hard for me to write the words. I apologize in advance, and I’m off to write heartbreaking fluff in penance. You’ve been warned.
Belle laughed for pure joy, losing the lyrics of the radio as she basked in sunlight and bliss. The air rushing past played naughtily with her skirt (a particularly precarious situation, considering that her feet were propped on the dashboard), but she paid no mind when the cotton slipped a little too high over her thighs. The first hint of spring was back in the air and Belle felt exhilarated, as though she could run and run through the fields still healing from winter’s cruel touch. The hills loomed before her, riddled with brown muddy scars but faintly green with spring’s new growth.
She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, the sun warm and gentle on her cheeks. There was no better time, she thought, than when the smell of spring filled the air. She reached one hand out of the window, letting the streams of air separate and play between her fingers. It was freedom, really, pure exhilarating freedom. The Earth was eagerly pulling itself out of the wintery clutch of ice and cold, and Belle was flying down a road in spring sunlight, breathing deep and wondering if life held anything better than this. Belle and the world were sprinters together at the gate, ready for a fresh start and a clean break. They were ready to hurtle into the future while leaving the baggage of the past at the starting line.
That first gif looks like she's just unconsciously following the pants wherever they go. The second gif looks like he totally knows it and is extremely uncomfortable. Gotta face it though, Rumps, you don't wear those pants unless you're prepared to have people trail behind you.
This one doesn’t come from a prompt. This is a thank-you to my 200 followers. I am taken aback and honored and a whole lot of other things that require more words than I have to express.
So here’s an ungodly long story for thank-you.
(There will be another chapter to this eventually. I’m in the middle of Chapter Two)
It has been twenty-eight years since Gold last saw Belle, and he doesn’t believe in true love. Grief, yes. Regret. The vast, unfillable sense of loss where Belle’s wasted potential should have lit the sky in shining, fairy tale colors. But not true love. Never love.
He believes in heartache and failure.
So when he discovers that Belle is not dead, that she has been found—rescued—from the hospital basement, his heart does not break. Of course, he thinks, this is the way the world would work. Butterflies are only made for others to pluck their wings.