#and had to bang on her sister in laws door at 3 in the morning to get her help fixing it

[ronnieromm]

girlie pop got a haircut

[ponyosmom35]

you don't like me, I don't like you

Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Liability series chapter two!

Synopsis: Reader is new, she's a medic whom is strictly on base. She is not enlisted in the military. She's there due to her older sisters training for Taskforce 141, her sister made a deal with Laswell, the pair were a packaged deal. Ghost hasn't been taking her arrival well as he feels like she's a waste of space. He is not afraid to let her know for the second time since they've met.

warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, ghost is scary, reader is stubborn

Link to full Liability series:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

After finally finishing the last part of the report Ghost sighs and closes his computer. It was nearly 3 am and he was exhausted. He stands up, stretching his sore limbs slightly, and walks to his door, he shuts the light off and closes it behind him, locking it. In the distance, he could hear banging. He frowns knowing that it was lights out, so nobody should be awake. He notices the light coming from the training center and walks in angrily. He notices the new medic. Younger sister of Sergeant Emma James, one of the finest in the training program. Price had her transferred to his base so he could keep an eye on her, testing to see if she’d be a good fit for 141. He was unsure why Laswell had requested her medic sister be transferred as well. The girl had been nothing but a pain in his ass from the moment she arrived. She didn’t belong there, what use was a medic if she was strictly on base, no military experience.  He scoffs as he notices her incorrect form as she punches the bag over and over, her stance was off and her hands weren’t even taped correctly. He stomps over to her and turns off the music she had playing in the background. She whips around and glares at him angrily. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” she demands, snatching the speaker from him

“You shouldn’t be out here, its light out”

“I don’t care” 

“Go back to your room, no one is allowed out here”

“Then why are you here?” she questions, staring at him with raised eyebrows 

“The rules don’t apply to me”

“So you’re above it all now?” she asks sarcastically 

“I’m the Lieutenant” he deadpans 

“I don’t really care to be honest” 

“Listen, I don't think you understand. You don't belong here. You're not a solider. You are a medic. So, get back to your rom and stay there. Otherwise, I'm going to have to report you to Captain Price for insubordination. Do I make myself clear?” Ghost warns, his tone incredibly threatening. It takes everything in her not to show her fear.  

“I’m not enlisted in the military”

“Listen, you may work for Laswell, but you're still on a military base, and that makes you subject to military law. Go to your room, or I will order the guards to take you there myself. Understood?”

“what guards Luitentant? looks like it’s just you and me here” she says gesturing to the empty room.

“Don't test me, medic. Just go back to your room, and don't come out until morning. Is that a clear enough order for you?”

“like I said, I don't take orders from you Ghost” she sneers 

“You're making a mistake. Let me spell it out for you, Either you agree to do what I say and when I say it, or I'll call Laswell and have her pull you out of this task force and send you back to the states. Is that clear?”

“First you bitch about my lack of training, now you're bitching at me to go to bed! make up your goddamn mind!”

“So that's your attitude then? Fine, I'll call Laswell right now and explain the situation. There’s an endless amount of army medics who do us good in the field. You’re easy to replace”

“fuck you” she says as she tries to push past him, making sure to hit him with her shoulder

“Listen!” he snaps, grabbing her arm and pull her back towards him, his tone growing more serious as his expression darkens.

“ I've been trying to be patient with you, but that time is over. Now listen up, because I'm going to say this once. You are here because you're part of a team and you're expected to behave like it. And that means doing what I say, no questions asked. Do you understand?”

“If I say yes will you finally shut the fuck up?”

“I wasn't finished speaking, and you will show a little more respect to me and this unit. Now, I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

“yes! I heard you perfectly clear” she responds as she turns her back on him and walks towards the sleeping quarters. 

“Fucking hell” 

-

The next morning Ghost had asked Soap to bring her to his office the next morning. He could not have her behave that way around the others. Disrespect was not permitted here. Someone needed to teach her. It dones’t take long for a knock to appear at his door. 

“Come in” he yells gruffly 

Soap opens the door for her and pats her on the shoulder gently. He sends Ghost a look before shutting it behind him. Ghost motions for her to enter and sit down at the chair across from his desk. “Now that you’ve slept on it, what have you got to say for yourself? I hope you've got a real good excuse for that behavior last night”

“what do you want me to say? want me to tell you I'm on my period or that I'm just that naturally charming?” she says sarcastically, her arms crossed as she sits down. 

“What I want to know is why you thought it was okay to go against direct orders from a superior officer”

“I see that we're going in circles here, so why don't we just cut the shit. you don't like me, I don't like you. For whatever reason you've been out to get me since I got here. Look man I'm just trying to do my job, so if you want me to stop 'defying orders'”  she quotes him sarcastically “then you should just let me do what I came here to”

“You don't get it, do you? It has nothing to do with me not liking you or some personal vendetta that you think I have against you. The fact of the matter is, you're not qualified to be a part of this operation. You don't have the training, skills, or experience to handle yourself in a dangerous situation. What you're doing is putting yourself and other members of the task force at risk, and I'm not going to tolerate it.”

“my position has nothing to do with the field, I'm strictly on base!” she exclaims 

“That is not the point. You're still on duty, and you're still responsible for the safety and well-being of the task force. You're a liability, not a help, when it comes down to it. If we need an immediate evac and the other actual medics are already in the field then what? we send you in because you're all we got. The last thing I need right now is to worry about keeping you safe instead of focusing on the mission. So, do you understand why you're nothing but a burden to me on this task force?”

“I've been called many things in my life, but never a burden. that's a new one thanks Ghost you truly never fail to surprise me! But you aren't gonna bully me out of here. Laswell wanted me here and I'm gonna do my job” she says standing “Also for future reference, the medic that could be saving your life one day really isn't the person to piss off”

“Oh trust me, I'm well aware” his skull-covered face inching closer as he leaned forward, his dark eyes boring into hers. She stands tall and refuses to let him see how truly nervous he made her. ”But while we're giving life advice, let me give you some. If I were you, I would be very careful about who you choose to piss off. Because if I have to deal with your bullshit again, I'll make sure you regret it. Is that clear?”

She salutes him sarcastically and walks out the door. Ghost rolls his eyes and sighs in frustration. 

“Bloody hell” he murmurs before going back to his paperwork. 

chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733828281298780160/show-him?source=share

[ao3feed-ladynoir]

Being Neighborly

Being Neighborly by Snugglebuttkitten

When Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to bang on her neighbors door at two in the morning, she isn't sure what she expected. But somehow sinfully attractive, super suave, and unfairly sweet Luka Couffaine wasn't it. The last thing Marinette needs in her life is a rugged bad boy with a heart of gold and yet somehow, he keeps popping up in her life no matter how hard she tries to keep him at arms length. And despite her best efforts, she can feel the walls she's erected around her already fragile heart starting to crumble.

When Luka Couffaine moves into his new apartment, he isn't really expecting to fall head over heels in love with the feisty, diminutive little spitfire next door. But one look into those big bluebell eyes and he knows he's a goner. The only issue is, no matter how hard he tries he always seems to manage to do or say the wrong thing around her. Luckily, he had a very enthusiastic and supportive sister-in-law who is determined to see him find his Happily Ever After.

Words: 4689, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 3 of Kitty's Miraculous Rewrites

Fandoms: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Characters: Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Juleka Couffaine, Rose Lavillant, Alya Césaire, Nino Lahiffe, Sabine Cheng, Tom Dupain, Plagg, Tikki

Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Plagg/Tikki, Sabine Cheng/Tom Dupain, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - No Kwamis, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Trigger Warnings, loss of a child, Mentions of miscarriage, Depression, Self Harm, Cheating, OOC Adrien Agreste, lukanette endgame, learning to heal, Moving On, Growing Up, Falling In Love, Slice of Life, Realism Fic, Fluff, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Supportive Rose, Supportive Siblings

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44527492

[tomtenadia]

Remember Us - part 2

Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.

Also, we get to meet the kids <3

------

When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.

Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.

She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.

Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.

“Mama!” Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.

“Mum,” Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees “hi my darling, how are you?” She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.

“Helping grandma cook.”

“Food.” Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms “hi my love,”  and she snuggled her head against her mother’s chest.

“Hi mum,” said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter “welcome back, darling.” She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughter’s tired expression.

Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say “later,” she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.

“Come on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.” On his grandma’s orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.

Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughter’s side.

Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.

“Did you help grandma cook?”

The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his father’s.

“Aelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You haven’t touched it yet.”

Aelin shook her head “I am fine. It can wait.”

Truth was… she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.

Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.

“The kids are asleep. What’s troubling you?”

Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach “Rowan woke up.”

“Today?”

She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder “I had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,” a loud sob broke from her lips “he does not remember me or the kids.”

Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month “Yrene had told you it might happen.”

Aelin nodded slightly “I didn’t think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesn’t remember our kids.” Her sobs turned into proper crying “I am so scared, mum. So, so scared.”

“I know, darling.” Evalin kissed her daughter’s head “you will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?”

Aelin gave her a small nod “but it might take time and what if he realises that he doesn’t want us in his life anymore?”

“Rowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.” A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.

*

Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadn’t been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one. 

A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?

Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.

He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe “Mind if I come in?”

He shook his head “is tv always this boring?”

Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it “yeah. You find reading more interesting.”

He switched off the television and faced her “I am…”  he sighed “yesterday… I was overwhelmed. It was… it still is too much.”

“I know,”said Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.

“Tell me something about me, about my life. Us… anything.” He started, eager to know more. He needed it “do I like breakfast?”

Aelin laughed “you do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.” She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.

“You are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.”

She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.

“You are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.” His green eyes were trained on her “you and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.” She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.

“You love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.”

Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.

“We have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friend’s wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.”

He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.

“What type of doctor are you?”

“I am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.”

Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared “do you have any photos of us, of the kids?”

Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos “This is Thomas. He is three.”

Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his mother’s and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.

Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.

“She is so much like you.” He noticed the smile appearing on Aelin’s face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasn’t sure but Aelin took his breath away.

“Are we happy? As a family?”

Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it “Yes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.”

Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.

“I need time.” He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment “This is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.”

Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone “this is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.” She gave him the mobile “it has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.”

Aelin looked at her watch and stood “I have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.”

Rowan nodded.

“You can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.”

He looked at the phone and then at her “will you come back?”

Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.

She waved at him and disappeared through the door.

He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.

Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.

There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadn’t covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.

He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.

He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.

You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.

He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.

And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.

[simp4lucius]

Auntie Maya Part 3

A few days after leaving, Maya and Tubbo were settling in nicely. With help from Philza, Maya had constructed a (rather large) house nearer to the edge of the forest. Philza’s three sons Tommy (who was six), Wilbur (who was fourteen), and Techno (the eldest at sixteen) had welcomed her into their lives as a mother-like figure. Tommy and Tubbo were self-proclaimed ‘best friends’ and stuck to each other like glue. Techno and Maya had bonded over their love of English and Maya had helped Wilbur in his music career.

Philza was grateful for the extra help as well, finding it easier to get things done without interference from the boys. Maya was eager to help out, cooking and cleaning when Philza was busy and babysitting when he needed to go out. A week after they arrived, Philza had to rush out the door early one morning because he had run out of healing potions and with three roudy boys, he needed them.

Maya had stepped in to do the school run, deciding to send Tubbo in as well. She ushered the three boys out of bed and made breakfast and packed their lunches, making sure Techno had his GCSE sketchbook and that Wilbur had his guitar for music class. Tommy dragged his feet and clutched Maya’s hand tightly as they went through the school gates.

Wilbur immediately rushed off to meet his friends Niki and Quackity, Techno kissed Maya’s cheek and strode off to the library to study for his English reading exam, and Tommy - now in a better mood - dragged Tubbo off to meet Ranboo, and extremely tall boy in his year.

Maya got a few odd looks, dressed in a nice pair of trousers and a button-down shirt she may or may not have stolen from Schlatt a few years previous rather than the jeans and faded shirts of the rest of the mothers. Her goat ears and piercing eyes also helped, not to mention the tail peeking out of her trousers when she turned to leave.

---

A few hours later, Philza had still not returned, so Maya went to pick the boys up again, not trusting them to walk home without her. Again, she attracted looks as she stood next to the gates, arms folded, reading the notice on bullying, amusement dancing across her face.

“Maya?!” The brunette turned to find Puffy, her sister in law.

“Puffy, darling!” The two embraced and laughed. Puffy leant back, hands on the smaller woman’s shoulders, inspecting her.

“Never thought I’d see you down this neck of the woods.” Maya tipped her head back slightly to laugh, displaying the expensive black choker on her neck, earning some envious looks.

“Well, marriage, you know. Has its ups and downs.” Puffy smiled, “But how have you been? I haven’t seen you since that christmas dinner after the wedding.”

“The one where, as I recall, Jay got absolutely pissed and told your mother she was ugly?” Maya giggled and lowered her voice mockingly.

“I was nearly forced to divorce him.” Puffy gasped, then laughed.

“I’ve been fine. My ship wasn’t going to pilot itself. My son goes here now. Dream. Same year as Techno, Philza’s older boy.” Maya smiled.

“I sent Tubbo in with Tommy. Philza’s out, so I’m doing the school run.” Puffy laughed again.

“Oh, here come the kids. See you tomorrow?” Puffy enquired. Maya laughed and nodded as Puffy walked to the fence, waving frantically at a tall pale boy with fair hair, head down with his green hoodie pulled up.

Tommy rushed out of the door to his classroom, dragging Tubbo and his other friend, Ranboo, over to Maya. Tommy babbled to her about his day, encasing her in a hug, before quickly asking if he could go to the park with Ranboo. Maya considered it.

“Fine. But I want you back by dinner time.” The two ran off again, and Maya faintly heard Tommy answer Ranboo’s question of who she was with “Tubbo’s mum, but she’s really nice.”

Wilbur was out next, waving to his friends before running to Maya, guitar case banging against his legs. Techno followed him, head in a book, pink locks hanging past his ears. Maya started the way home, stopping abruptly when two boys ran past and knocked Tubbo over, giggling as they ran away, only to be stopped by Maya’s hands on their colars.

Techno looked up as Wilbur helped Tubbo up, hugging the crying boy and asking where it hurt. Maya turned the boys around to look at her, fearful expressions taking over their faces at her hazel goat eyes.

“Apologise.” The boys muttered a quick sorry before running as fast as possible in the oppposite direction.

Protective Mama Maya. I sense a KaReN on the way.

Like for Part 4.

[soniaxdixon]

The New World; Series, Pt 3

okay, two parts in one day but I really just felt like writing. enjoy this part!! 

Okay so this is my first time writing a fic and obviously will be my first series but I’ve just rewatched TWD for like the 17th time and my obsession with Daryl has reached new levels. I hope that it isn’t too shit and that you guys actually read/like it. Thank you in advance for baring with my average writing but I mean, how else will I learn? Anyway, enjoy!

Sonia x

Season 1

Part 3 of ??

Summary: Y/N Grimes is Rick’s younger hot headed sister. When Rick gets shot and falls into a coma, Y/N’s world ends. Y/N Finds herself at a quarry near Atlanta with her nephew carl, sister in law Lori and her best friend Glenn where she meets her new family including the equally hot headed redneck Daryl Dixon. Over time Y/N and Daryl begin to form a friendship, finally allowing one another to open up to someone and maybe finding someone they can actually love.

Words: 1790

Okay, I couldn’t hold out much longer with the whole slow burn thing, something happens in this fic...

Warnings: swearing, a little angst, slight mention of gore.

With your brother, Daryl, Glenn and T-Dogg gone you found yourself struggling to think about anything else other then something happening to them. What if they got surrounded by walkers, what if merle flips and does something to them. Constant ‘what if’ questions rolled through your head as you paced in your tent.

“Y/N!” You heard dale holler

“Hey Dale, what’s up?”

“You’ve been in your tent since they left, wanted to get you out here with the rest of the group, make sure you’re okay.” He said with sincerity.

“Thanks, Dale, I’m all good, don’t you worry. Got any jobs for me to do? I’d like to keep my mind busy.”

“Not really any jobs to do but you’re more than welcome to relax in the RV, I’ve got a couple of old books in there, maybe that’ll put your mind at ease.”

You nodded gratefully and made your way inside the RV, shuffling through Dale’s book collection until you settled on one, reading in the bed until the words began to sling together and you fell into a deep sleep.

You were woken up a while later by Carl gently shaking you. You jolted awake and grabbed your knife when you realised you had fallen asleep for god knows how long.

“Woah! I’m just here to let you know dinners ready.”

You scooted off the bed, stepped out of the RV and walked over to the group sitting around a fire, fresh grilled fish already on a plate for you. You sat next to Lori and nudged her. “I missed dinner prep? How long was I asleep, I should have helped.”

“You must have needed the rest, it was best to let you sleep.”

You nodded as you shoved a giant fork full of fish into your mouth while your stomach growled.

This night was like any other, sitting around with your family, chatting like nothing was wrong in the world, though you found yourself subconsciously searching for the archer who would usually sit across from you, constantly sneaking glances at each other. Your heart rate sped up at the thought of him and then the reality that he wasn’t there set in again, as did the worry. You were pulled from your thoughts by Andrea’s voice.

“Where are you going?”

“I gotta pee, geez, try to be discrete around here” Amy responded earning a laugh from the group.

You went to take another bite of your fish when Amy’s scream filled the air. You threw the plate and reached for your gun as you watched Amy being ripped into, Andrea already running towards her with Jim. Walkers started hastily shuffling out of the trees towards your family as you and the others sprung into action.

“Lori, Carl, you get behind me now!” You yelled over the gunfire shoving your nephew out of dangers way and putting yourself in the middle of it. You aimed at the nearest walker and BANG, it fell, a bullet between its eyes.

You noticed another hobbling towards carol, BANG, another down.

You continued to pace backwards until it was safe to send Lori and Carl into the RV. A walker lunged at you, BANG, now it was at your feet. You turned for a second when you heard Lori scream as Shane shot a biter that was close to her.

As you turned around another one lunged at you as you brought your gun up,

Click.

Your stomach knotted at the sound, you were out of bullets. You pushed against the walker with all your force as its teeth gnashed at your face. You could feel your arms weakening as its teeth got closer to your face, your feet began sliding in the dirt. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull one hand away to get your knife, this one was too big, the slightest move now and you would be gone.

BANG

The walker collapsed on top of you, knocking the air out of you as you went down. Suddenly the body was tossed away and a hand was outstretched. You realised who it was, grabbed his hand and he hoisted you up off the ground.

“Thanks, Daryl.”

He nodded and then proceeded to take out the walkers that just kept coming. You noticed how he shielded your body with his own as the dead got closer until finally, there were none left.

When everything was clear, he stormed off towards his tent without saying a word to you.

You found rick and threw your arms around him

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He mumbled into your hair

“For what?”

“For protecting Carl and Lori.”

“It’s what I do.” You chuckled slightly as you let go of him, your eyes flicking over to Daryl’s tent.

You built up some courage and started trekking towards his tent, stopping suddenly at the entrance and struggling to think of what to say. Before you had the chance to say anything he broke the silence.“Leave me alone.”

You stood there for a second before you shook your head and began unzipping the door to the tent and stepping inside. He stood up from his bed and loomed over you.  “Stupid girl, didn’t you hear what I said? Leave me the fuck alone!”

At this point he was yelling in your face but you stood your ground, getting angrier until you looked up into his eyes, you could see how red they were, he’d been crying, your anger slowly faded.  “I don’t need your fucking pity, get lost.”

He turned, expecting you to leave but instead, without even thinking, you wrapped your arms around his middle and he stiffened at the sudden contact, staring at his bed in front of him, then looking down at your arms that linked around his waist, holding him tight, grounding him. You felt his breath become shaky as he let himself cry which only made you hold him tighter.

When his breathing began to slow, you gently unlinked your arms and he turned to face you, tears staining his cheeks.

“I’m not here to offer you pity, I came to say thank you for saving me. I came to see if you were okay.”

He just stared at you for a second before you carefully reached up and wiped a single tear that was rolling down his cheek, then slowly, you snaked your hands around his neck and brought him into another hug. This time he didn’t flinch, he melted into you, placing his head in the crook of your neck while he let himself calm down.

“M’ sorry I snapped.” He whispered into your neck.

You pulled back and looked into his eyes, the blue being highlighted by his unshed tears.

“You don’t have to apologise, I get it.”

He nodded as his hands found your waist and he pulled you into another hug. This man had never been shown proper affection, he had never shown it to anyone but he so desperately craved it and you understood that, you finally gave him the affection he needed, that he deserved. You stayed like that for a minute before you pulled away, grabbing his hand and leading him over to his makeshift bed, a cot in the corner of his tent with his sleeping bag on top. You sat with him on the end of the bed and finally built up the bravery to ask.

“Daryl, what happened out there?”

He looked at you and struggled to form the words, tears threatened to fall from his eyes again until you reached for his hand and took it in yours.

“He wasn’t there, he ain’t dead but he was gone. Cut off his own damn hand, cauterised it. Tough son of a bitch. We went to look for ‘im but then this kid showed up and started yellin’, some guys took Glenn and we got into this whole thing, thought they might’ve had Merle too y’know. They didn’t. By the time we sorted everything out our damn truck was missin’ so we had to walk back. Thats when we heard the gun shots. Y/N I ran, I ran so fast and ya wanna know why? Because I thought I was gonna lose ya. I couldn’t lose ya too. I don’t know what it is but something inside me goes crazy whenever you’re around. I ain’t good at this type a thing, I don’t know how to explain it but it’s like I need to protect ya and I don’t know why. We’ve hardly talked but when we do it’s like my chest is on fire.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him, you hung onto every word for dear life, like he was reading your mind, like he was reading your emotions. Before you knew it you were pulling his face towards yours, pressing your lips against his, fitting together like a puzzle, like he was the one piece you have been missing your whole life. You slowly pulled away and looked at him, his eyes still closed from the kiss, a small smile gracing his lips, causing you to break out in a smile too.

“Daryl.” His name had never sounded so sweet, he opened his eyes looking deeply into yours as his cheeks flushed red. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

You spoke for a while, exchanging stories of the past. For a man who was so reserved, he seemed to open up to you like you were the only one who held the key to his stories. He told you about Merle, about his mother. He told you about his father, the things he used to do to merle, to him. You didn’t push him, you didn’t ask to see the scars, you simply listened and that was all he needed. The noise of everyone outside had finally quietened and that was your cue that it was time to retreat back to your tent.

“I’m gonna head back to my tent, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He wanted to ask you to stay, he needed you to stay. He felt like that was the only way he could sleep but he couldn’t bring himself to ask.

You wanted to stay, fall asleep on his chest like the many nights you had dreamt of, but you didn’t want to push what had happened. You slipped out of his tent, zipping it closed and walking over to your own. You couldn’t help fight the smile that crept on your face.

Neither you nor Daryl got much sleep that night, replaying the moments that happened, longing for each other in a way like never before.

[rhysismydaddy]

365 Days: Part 2 (Feysand)

I feel like this should be beyond obvious at this point, but black lives matter. As a white person, I understand that I’ll never fully comprehend the struggle black individuals face on a daily basis. I stand with them, protesters, and activists as a lifetime ally. “Don’t be mad they’re rioting, be happy you don’t have to.” -- If you are not a supporter of the BLM movement, go ahead an unfollow me. I couldn’t care less. 

OKAY. Sorry this is a day late! This part kind of has it all (humor, fluff, some slightly kinky smut) so I don’t know how to describe it. I also hate it, but whatever. Part 3 (last part) out Friday!

Part 1

________________________________________________________________

Day 1, 7:13 AM

~Feyre~

Something warm laid across her cheek, and Feyre peeked an eye open, only to groan at who she saw staring down at her. “If you make a habit of waking me up at the ass crack of dawn, I can already tell you you won’t live through our year of marriage, Rhysand.”

He smiled. “You have to get up. We're taking wedding pictures.”

She didn’t see the point. They’d signed the marriage license last night. How he’d procured one in less than an hour, she didn’t even want to know.

“Why the hell would we do that?”

“Because I’m a public figure, and the newspaper asked for a quote on our marriage.” She groaned. “Now get your cute ass downstairs.”

She glanced at him speculatively but stayed firmly planted in the bed. “What’s downstairs?”

“Someone to help get you ready. Not that I don’t appreciate the bed head. Up.”

Feyre shook her head. “Ask me again in two hours.” She glanced at the clock. “Make it three.”

Her husband pinched the bridge of his nose, but stood back up. She closed her eyes, happy she’d won their first argument. 

Only to be proven wrong a moment later as the demon spawn flung back her blankets, grabbed her waist, and threw her over a shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Put me down,” she shrieked, beating the back of his toned legs with a fist.

Rhysand, calm as always, smoothly responded, “If I put you down, you’ll just get back in the bed.”

“No, I won’t,” she lied.

Even though she couldn’t see his face, she’d bet anything he rolled his eyes. He walked out his/her/their bedroom door and down the stairs, his casual gait suggesting nothing out of the order.

“Good morning,” he said pleasantly to whoever was waiting.

Feyre peeked around his ass to see four complete strangers, varying levels of amusement on their faces. “Um, hi.”

She was placed on a salon-like chair. 

Which was odd, considering they were in the middle of the living room. 

Rhysand pointed at two hulking figures sitting on the couch. “These are my friends Cassian and Azriel. You’ve met.”

The smugness in his voice, combined with the shit-eating grins of the men he was referring to, had her snapping back, “Oh yes, my kidnappers. Sorry I didn’t immediately recognize you. I had a sack over my head last time we met.”

“I’m Cassian.” The larger of the two smiled. “I’m the one you tried to gut with a butter knife.”

“I’ll have to practice my aim.”

Cassian looked at the man standing next to her and winked. “I like her.”

The other man on the couch, Azriel, sighed and shook his head, resigned. 

Rhys just rolled his eyes and continued his introductions. “The two normal people here,” he gestured to a very brightly-dressed pair, “are here to do your hair and makeup and whatever else.”

He gave her a light kiss on the forehead, then spoke to his fellow criminals. “We have shit to do. Come on.”

“Are you off to do illegal activities, my dear husband?” 

“Don’t worry, Feyre darling. You won’t be without eye candy for too long.”

He laughed at the look on her face, then wisely jogged out the door before she could throw something at him.

She turned to the people left staring at her with wide eyes and repressed a groan. “Let’s get this over with.”

~Rhysand~

Two hours after he’d left, Rhys came back to the house, showered, and changed into a tux. Then he went to his backyard where the photographer had set up. 

“Where’s Feyre?” he asked the man as he messed around with lighting balloons.

The photographer gave him a knowing smile. “I want to get a picture of your reaction when you first see her.”

He was about to respond when the backdoor of the house opened and she walked out.

She was wearing a classic gown with long sleeves and a deep neckline, but that wasn’t what drew his attention. Her hair was up, and she had a veil trailing behind her. The sunlight made the white of her dress almost glow.

If she’d been beautiful before, now she was...

There were no words for how she looked.

Fucking radiant was a start.

She walked across the lawn to him and smiled, and he couldn’t keep the matching grin off his face if he tried.

Rhysand heard the faint snap snap snap of the camera and finally understood what the photographer had meant. 

He’d wanted to capture the moment the city’s Son of Satan was practically brought to his knees by a single woman. 

And Rhys didn’t even care.

Feyre finally drew close enough that he could see the details of her face. Even though he had a million more romantic things running through his brain, he murmured, “Who’s the eye candy now?”

“You are,” she said, as if it were obvious. “You look like sex on a spoon.”

His mouth dropped open, but before he could respond, the photographer butted into their moment. “Okay, I want you two to act like I’m not even here. We’re aiming for three or four really good shots, so just be natural, and I’ll let you know if anything has to change.”

They both nodded absently, still staring at each other. Rhys reached down to grab her hand, finger flicking the ring on her finger.

“I can’t believe our marriage is making the paper, and I didn’t even get a real proposal,” she teased. 

It was true. 

He’d put the ring on her bedside table the night before, too much of a simpering coward to give her the ring in person, too nervous about what’d she say. It had been his mother’s, and he’d once sworn to never let another soul have it. 

“I didn’t want to risk your wrath and wake you up.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled.

Almost on its own accord, one of his hands reached out to cup her cheek. He didn’t know if Feyre was acting or something else, but she leaned into his touch, a hand coming to rest against his chest.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” the photographer cooed.

“You are,” he told his wife. “You’re beautiful.”

She smiled.

“Annoying as hell, but beautiful.”

She shoved his shoulder and turned away, but he grabbed her wrist to spin her back, and decided to risk his life.

He kissed her.

Hands locked around her waist, lips crashing into hers, Rhysand kissed her like he’d been dying to since he’d seen her asleep in his shirt.

And she really, really kissed him back.

Feyre’s hands wound around his neck, and he lifted her up a little to get a better angle. Her lips opened to let his tongue in, and he had no other thoughts in his head besides the woman in his arms.

The photographer coughed pointedly. 

They ignored him.

Until Rhys finally relented and set her back on the ground, both of them panting for air.

“Sorry,” she told the blushing man, but he waved her off and insisted it happened all the time.

The thing was, it didn’t. 

Rhysand had kissed plenty of women in his lifetime, but none of them had made his entire body start simmering like that. 

Her blue eyes watched him speculatively as he slipped the ring off her finger, dropped down to one knee, and smiled. “Feyre darling, will you marry me?”

Despite already being legally married, she bent over and kissed him, then stole the ring back. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Day 9, 8:04 PM

~Feyre~

Feyre had to admit that while the house outside the city had a charm and wholesome quality she’d come to admire, being trapped here had started to drive her slightly insane. 

Especially since Rhysand had been been on a business trip the entire week, so she’d been here by herself. 

After a tense phone call with her sisters--where Nesta had cackled and called her Satan’s nephew--and getting ahead in her textbooks, she was out of things to do. So she spent most of her time being a nosy little snob and going through her husband’s stuff.

Apparently, the Son of Satan had a very serious addiction to wine, if the cellar in the basement was any indication. 

But other than that--and a mysterious letter from a woman named Amren--he had no trinkets, pictures of family, or any other worthwhile gossip. 

The word “boredom” hardly covered it.

Once upon a time, Feyre wouldn’t have minded a couple days like this. When law school was in session, she didn’t have a spare moment and enjoyed when she got to do nothing. 

She didn’t bother lying to herself about why it was driving her insane now.

She missed Rhysand. 

After only a couple days of marriage, he’d wormed his way into her heart and made her start to rely on teasing him, seeing that devilish smirk, making him laugh. The nightly texts he sent her weren’t enough to satisfy her insane need to talk to him. He’d told her he was coming back later tonight, and she was practically coming out of her skin with excitement. 

She was an idiot, basically. 

This marriage wasn’t supposed to involve actual feelings. It was a publicity save. And despite giving her a hotter-than-hell kiss during their photo shoot, he hadn’t so much as touched her since. 

Feyre had the distinct feeling he was waiting for her to make the first move. 

Which, again, she normally wouldn’t mind. But something about Rhysand... she knew once she started down that path, she wouldn’t be able to stop.

So she slept in his bed, wore his t-shirts, and avoided thinking about how his mouth had felt against hers. 

And how he’d tasted like chocolate and watermelon and-

Cutting that thought off, she resolved herself to be cool and calm and collected when he came back. She needed to nip the feelings she’d started to develop for him in the bud. 

But then the front door banged open, and Feyre instantly disregarded every promise she’d made to herself and raced down the stairs, yelling like a banshee. 

She saw Rhysand standing in the doorway in his usual Johnny Cash uniform and didn’t hesitate before yelling, “You’re home!”

And throwing herself on him.

He dropped whatever he was holding and laughed as she wrapped herself around him like a koala. 

“Are you alright, love?”

She nodded against his neck. “I’m fine. Ignore me. I’ve just been so bored. This place is way too fucking quiet when you’re not here. I think I’m going insane.”

“I believe you.” 

“Asshole.”

He laughed, then did as she’d said and ignored her presence, crossing the living room to the kitchen. 

Rhys bent to look through the fridge, and she tightened her hold on him. 

“We have no food, also,” she told him helpfully. 

“I see that. If you put some pants on, we can go into the city for dinner.”

She laughed. Along with wearing his shirts, she’d taken to stealing a pair of boxers to sleep in. 

Feyre dropped to the floor, and he smirked down at her. “I was gone for five days, and that’s the greeting I got. Next time I’m staying away for six.”

She swung a hand and punched his shoulder, which probably hurt her more than him, and told him, “You’re so very funny, Rhysand. Please feed me.”

Her husband gave her a shooing motion. “You might want to put on something besides my boxers, then.”

She took his advice.

About an hour later, she sat in front of him, watching as he adamantly tried to avoid looking at her.

She’d chosen a dark green dress--unremarkable except for the low neckline and short skirt--black heels, and simple makeup.

“Are you alright, Rhysand? You look like you’re having a stroke.”

Those violet eyes slid to hers. “I’m fine, thank you for asking. I like that dress.”

“I can tell.”

He looked at the ceiling. “When we get home, I’m going to replace your entire wardrobe with burlap sacks.”

Feyre shrugged, then decided to take a chance. “You’d still stare at me.”

His eyes met hers, and when he spoke, it was practically a purr. “Am I supposed to deny, Feyre darling, how attractive I find you?” 

The waiter arrived before she had to respond. She made a mental note to leave him a huge tip.

As they ate their meal, she was overly aware of how many people stared at them. The whispers that surrounded them.

She was about to ask how he dealt with it when a chair was slid up next to her, a heavy-set man settling in. “Hello, Rhysand. I need to talk to you.”

The man was dressed in dark clothes, covered in tattoos, and had the promise of violence written across his every movement. He practically had the words drug dealer floating above his over-sized head. 

“Dante.” The warm look she’d come to recognize in her husband’s eyes was nowhere to be found. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Leave.”

“I promise you, it can’t,” the man said boldly, continuing to ignore her presence entirely. “A shipment’s gone missing.”

Feyre watched, stomach twisting, as Rhysand leaned forward and smiled cruelly. “Would you like to join it? I don’t discuss business in front of my wife.”

My wife. 

Despite the more than tense surroundings, Feyre felt a spark run through her at the words. 

“Then the bitch can leave. I need to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause, then everything changed so quickly she didn’t have time to process it. One minute she was watching the man’s face twist with impatience, the next there was a gun pressed against his ruddy forehead. 

A gun that practically looked like an extension of Rhysand’s arm.

Her husband was standing, entire body stiff with anger. The look on his face was inhuman. And promised a slow, slow death as he looked towards the man on the recieving end. 

“Refer to her as Feyre Asterra, or lose your fucking tongue.” 

The restaurant was dead quiet, everyone holding their breath and waiting to see what happened. No one dared move a muscle. 

Except Dante, who nodded stiffly. 

“Now apologize.”

The way he said it, the command in his voice... a thrill sparked through Feyre, and she bit her lip to keep the gasp in. 

What was wrong with her? Where fear should’ve taken root, there was raw, untapped excitement whirling inside her. Rhysand’s entire body was lined with power and dominance and rage, and it made her breath come quicker as she watched.

Dante looked at her, the hatred clear. “I’m sorry,” he spat, then looked back at Rhys.

Rhysand tilted his head, a king holding court. Another cruel smile. “Beg me.”

Something inside Feyre twisted at his words. 

Beg me.

The man’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth, but he still said. “Please, Rhysand. I’ve worked for you for five years. I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, and she wouldn’t be surprised if someone passed out in anticipation. Then Rhys made a soft tsk sound. 

“You no longer work for me. You’re no longer welcome in this city. If I see you after tonight, I won’t be as forgiving.” 

The man opened his mouth to oppose, thought better of it, and sulked to the restaurant of the exit.

In that moment, Feyre knew why people called him the Son of Satan. Knew because, as calm as ever, he turned to their waiter and said, “Check, please.”

~ nsfw warning ~

Rhysand stood in front of the fireplace in their room, silent as the dead. 

He hadn’t said a single word on the way home, and she could tell whatever had happened at dinner had been the tip of the iceberg. Something had gone wrong. 

She replayed the meal over and over in her head, trying to figure it out, but only seemed to be able to remember one thing.

Beg me. 

Something had snapped inside her tonight, and she couldn’t keep herself still. Seeing him like that, seeing the power he had over people...

Slipping off the bed, Feyre walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. 

Her hands were spread on his taut stomach, but he gripped her wrists and took them off. When he spoke, his voice was rough and low. “I can’t do this right now. I’m not... I’m trying to keep my promise to you.”

Stay good with me. It felt like she’d said that a lifetime ago. 

Rhys turned around, drank whatever was in his glass, and looked down at her. There was violence and anger and animalistic rage in his gaze. 

It did little to calm the roar in her veins.

“Break your promise.”

A muscle in his jaw flickered, but he kept his hands to himself.

She wanted him so bad she could hardly stand. Her hands found their way to his chest, needing to touch him. “Please.”

Suddenly, she was pressed against the mantle near the fire, heat scorching up her leg. His glass fell to the floor as his hands pressed against her shoulders. 

He’d barely touched her, and she was breathing like she’d run a mile. 

A hand came to trace her bottom lip, then he was kissing her, and she finally let out a sigh.

The day of their wedding pictures, his kiss had been decadent and exploring. But that was when he was happy. 

When Rhys was pissed off, he kissed her in a raw, aggressive sort of way that made her lose her mind. A hand pulled her hair, making her tilt her head back, and he deepened the kiss. 

She’d just started to unbutton his shirt when he lifted her by the back of the thighs, then dropped them both to the floor and pinned her underneath him. 

Rhys braced himself over her trapping her arms above her head. She thought about the first time they’d been like this, and the look in his eye said he was doing the exact same thing. 

“I wanted you so bad that night,” he told her, voice rough.

She arched her back, chest pressed against his, and he gave her a wolf’s smile. 

“Did you want me, too?” he asked, lips and teeth on her collarbone. 

Feyre nodded. 

His mouth drifted down to her chest, and his teeth scraped her nipple through her dress. Rhys looked up at her, more monster than man in his eyes, and asked, “Were you wet for me, Feyre?”

Okay. Maybe it had been a mistake to encourage being together right now. 

Only one way to find out.

She nodded again, and his eyes went dark.

A hand remained pinning her wrists, the other drifting up her thigh. His fingers grazed the lace of her panties, then slipped inside. 

He ran a finger up her core, and she shifted beneath him. 

“Stay still,” he ordered, the command in his voice making her freeze. 

His finger slipped inside her, and he nudged the neck of her dress down to take a breast in his mouth. He made a humming sound in appreciation as he moved, then added another finger.

Feyre moaned, pushing uselessly against the grip on her hands. It was too much. He was too much. She wouldn’t survive this.

But she couldn’t force herself to stop. 

She’d been right. Now that she’d started, a shower of bullets wouldn’t make her leave this room.

His stubble scraped the valley between her breasts, and then they were kissing, a deep, wet slide of tongues and lips and teeth. He kissed her in time to the movement of his hand, and Feyre groaned into his mouth.

“I need more,” she panted onto his skin.

Rhysand’s teeth closed softly on her shoulder, and then he was looking down at her. His eyes were so dark they were like the nighttime sky, and then he said the words she didn’t know she’d been craving. 

“Beg me.”

She whimpered underneath him, shifting restlessly. 

A small, knowing smile was on his face, and she would’ve punched it off if she hadn’t been so attracted to it. 

“Please. Please.”

His hand was on her jaw, and he pressed a wet kiss to her lips. “Good girl.”

Lord help me.

He made quick work pulling her clothes off, then leaned back on his knees, surveying her head to toe. 

She repaid the favor. 

She didn’t know when his shirt had fallen open, but she sure as shit wasn’t complaining. 

His chest was covered in tattoos, the dark swirls running across his pecs and shoulders, all the way to his fingertips. The tattoos, the dangerous look in his eyes... Feyre lost a bit of her sanity as she leaned up to drag her mouth up his stomach.

Flicking open his belt, Rhys pushed her back down. Then his pants were pulled down, and he was spreading her thighs and settling in between them before she got a proper look. 

“Again.” He looked half crazed with anger and lust. 

She nipped at his bottom lip. “Please.”

He was pushed inside her, deep and slow and steady. He groaned in her ear, and the sound threatened what remained of her.

Then he gripped her hips, lifted slightly, and began to move. 

Holy gods.

Feyre didn’t know what language she was speaking in, but it wasn’t English. She was murmuring incoherent somethings, not able to string together proper thoughts.

She moved in rhythm with him as he picked up speed, and even though they were spread out on the ground, Feyre felt like a freaking queen. 

He was taking his time, listening and learning what she liked, and she could feel herself getting closer and closer to the edge.

Soon she was so loud it was a miracle they didn’t have close neighbors. 

But as soon as she felt release start to come, he paused his movements. 

The sound that came out of Feyre’s mouth was close to a snarl. 

Rhysand smiled, gripping her chin. “Do you want to come, Feyre darling?”

If she wasn’t practically immobile, she’d strangle him. “You’re such an insufferable bastard, Rhysand Asterra. Yes.”

“And what do people say when they want something?”

She bit his lip in frustration, but said, “Please, you pri-”

His hips slammed into hers, a moan cutting her off as release crashed into her. Muscles twitching, face pinched in concentration, he followed her lead, collapsing on top of her. 

They laid there together, both breathing heavily, until she started losing air. He rolled off her and looked over her with male satisfaction.

There was still a little tension from earlier, but his usual brightness and light was back. It was impossible not to smile at the happiness coursing through her veins. 

Then he opened that smart mouth. “Let’s take a moment to remember when you said you could go two years without sleeping with me.”

“In my defense,” she panted back, “I hadn’t seen you in action before.”

He looked adorably shocked. “So threatening to shoot people is hot to you?”

“When it’s because of me, yeah.” She flicked his bicep, unable to help it. “I almost jumped you right then and there.”

He started kissing her neck, grinning against her skin. “I might have to hunt him down, then.”

She laughed, hands playing in his thick hair. Feyre pulled him back on top of her, a deliciously heavy dead weight. “I think I might have to update my pros and cons list.”

Rhysand laughed, and Feyre doubted a year of looking at that smile would be enough. 

Hell, a lifetime might not be enough. 

She didn’t let the thought linger. 

“Do you think there’s some innocent people around for you to threaten?”

A kiss to her temple. “I’ll hire someone if I have to.”

________________________________________________________________

Part 3

@a-bit-of-a-cactus @bamchickawowow @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @rapunzel1523 @negativenesta @burritowithfeels @exciting @sis-it-dont-add-up @mockingjayusa @aelin-is-my-heart @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @awesomelena555 @thekeytohappiness-is-you @keshavomit

[riordanversephantom]

So hi, since I’ve been crying for like... the past hour? (Lol future Phantom here, it’s taken me like an hour to compile this)  here’s a collection of moments from my Riordanverse fanfics that I really like or made me chuckle because I need some feel good.  These are all from my Ao3 and I’ll leave links.

--

“You know usually people show up at someone’s house when the person is home,” Nico said, starting to make himself a sandwich. Thalia laughed.

“You’re telling me that while you’re sitting here the same as me making a sandwich?” She leaned back on the stool, gripping the counter to keep her balance. Nico rolled his eyes.

“I don’t intend to show up while he’s not here.”

“You’re funny Nico.”

“Thanks, I get that a lot,” Nico raised one eyebrow, Thalia laughed again.

(Percy’s not home)

--

“Jason fractured his ankle...while on the rock wall…” Will looked up at Nico, “he can fly, how did he do that?”

“He’s silly like that.”

Will paused for so long that Nico thought he had finally fallen asleep.

“Cecil brought me some Zebra cakes today,” Will mumbled, “he wasn’t injured but they tasted good.  I appreciated it.  He probably stole them.”

(Just go to bed)

More under the cut

Nico couldn’t help but crack a small smile, “thanks Kayla.”  He gently took the sweatshirt from her.  This was one of Will’s favorites (and also Nico’s favorite to take).

“Since you’re practically a member of the family now, I wanted to look out for you,” she yawned and glanced behind her, “since things have been a bit quiet with Will visiting his mom.”

“Yeah,” Nico agreed.

She smiled, “I guess I’ll let you get back to bed.”

Nico nodded, “goodnight Kayla.”

“Goodnight Nico,” she yawned again and started to trudge back to her cabin.

(Miss him the most)

--

“Look at you, I think we still need to have that competition of who looks worse after crying,” Will smirked.

“I still think it’s you,” Kayla cracked a small smile.

“It’s probably still me,” Will sighed, “let’s get back before Austin gets worried and the harpies come kill us though.”

“Yeah…”

(I’m still here)

--

But Will, half asleep and frightened had somehow ended up on the front porch of the Hades cabin at four in the morning.  When Nico opened the door he had stumbled into Nico’s arms, enveloping Nico into a huge hug.

“Oh,” Nico whispered, running his fingers through Will’s hair.

“I…” Will swallowed hard, “nightmare I… didn’t know… what to do.”

He wasn’t crying but the panic was evident in his voice.  Nico nodded silently and led Will inside, shutting the door behind him.

(Understand that I love you, dear)

--

“It’s fine,” Leo wiped some grease on his shirt and shifted on the chair, “I know what I’m doing.”

Jason doubted that, but he crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched.  Leo’s chair that he was standing on looked old and worn, it looked very close to falling apart.  Jason got a bit closer just in case Leo fell.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you?” Jason asked again.

“Why? Are you worried?” Leo let out a sigh and turned to Jason, the chair wobbled and he threw his arm out to steady himself.  Jason hissed and quickly stepped forward, his arms outstretched.

“Yeah, a bit,” Jason responded, “I don’t want you to fall.  Let me help.”

(How tall are you)

--

“I’m thinking about hiding away in the woods for a while, maybe we could talk, maybe kiss,” Leo suggested with a shrug.

(How tall are you)

--

Will buried his face in his hands, tugging at his bangs.  He didn’t say anything, Nico was too afraid to do anything at the moment.

Finally, Will let out a shaky sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “you know what,” he laughed without humor, “nope, it’s been a long week.”  Will turned towards the desk and started to tidy up the papers he was working on.

“I’m going to bed, I can’t do this right now.  I haven’t slept all week and I’m exhausted,” Will turned back to Nico and put a hand on his shoulder, he smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes, “I’m glad you’re back Nico.  I’m too angry to actually welcome you home properly so instead I’m going to sleep for the rest of the day.  Then come back to this conversation as a well rested organized individual.”

(Cause it hurts)

--

(like go seek out any other of his friends to alert them of his return, or iris messaging his sister to let her know he was all right) he sulked back to his cabin.

He did eventually do the second thing and Hazel was more than thrilled and relieved.  Though when he first iris messaged her, she yelled at him so loudly Frank and a couple other kids actually came in to see what was going on.

(Cause it hurts)

--

“Did you come here for something?” Will finally asked, clicking his pen absently.  He looked back over at Nico.

“Oh right,” Nico walked over to where Will was sitting and plopped himself right on top of the desk, “I came for you.”

“For me?” Will raised one eyebrow, leaning his chin on his elbow.  

“It’s getting late, I was getting impatient for you to come back,” Nico said, crossing his arms in front of his chest stubbornly.

“Oh so you missed me?” Will smirked.  Nico thought he shouldn’t look so smug.

“Don’t act like you don’t miss me too when I leave for a bit,” Nico huffed.

“I’m not going to act, I’ve admitted it before and I’ll do it again.”

(I trust you as my eyes)

--

“There we go, that’s my Will,” Nico mumbled, “sometimes nightmares are just nightmares.  Nothing more.”

“No stupid prophecy or foreseeing of death,” Will squeezed Nico tighter.

“Just a normal old punch in the gut from your subconscious.”

“I hate my subconscious.”

“Me too.”

(My subconscious hates me)

--

“Oh, hello Sunshine.”

Kayla woke to her brother’s voice.  For a second she thought he was going insane and actually talking to the sun.  Then she remembered what happened at three am last night… or well, this morning.

(Not yet brother in law)

--

The two of them were quiet again.  A leaf fluttered onto Percy’s face.  Annabeth swiped it away without a thought.  He licked her hand.

“Gross, Percy!  Are you ten?” Annabeth cried out, wiping her hand on Percy’s shirt.

He laughed, “you asked for it, putting your hand too close to my mouth.”

“I was getting a lead off of you like a loving girlfriend.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.  Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows, gathering a ton of leaves that were settled around her and dropped them on his face.  He sat up spluttering, spitting leaves out of his mouth.

“That wasn’t nice!” He exclaimed, shaking the leaves from his hair.

(Content)

--

“You’re a whore,” Drew glared at Will.

Lacy gasped, she looked like she wanted to say anything, but she didn’t.

“ Wow ,” Will puffed out his cheeks before letting out a slow breath, “A whore ?  I’ve been called a lot of things, but a whore ?  That ones new.”

“Just like Apollo,” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Will nodded in agreement, “but, well I hate to break it to you, but I’d like to think I’m pretty faithful to my boyfriend.  Unlike you so, I think that the term ‘ whore ’ would better apply to you.”  Will clicked his tongue and shrugged.

“Well,” Drew spluttered, obviously running out of insults, “at least I can get a date without even having to try.”

“Drew that is enough,” Piper spoke firmly, her voice cold, “you too Will.” She seemed a bit reluctant about that last part.

Will held up his hands in defense, “hey, I didn’t do anything.  Anyway, getting a date with no effort doesn’t really sound like love.”

“ Will, ” Piper shot him a pointed look, Will shrugged.

(Nail polish is gay)

I mean obviously there are a ton more since I have so many fics on my Ao3 but this was just a couple (a lot) from some of my more “recent” fics.  If you’ve made it this far, thanks and I hope you liked these small little bits.  Check out my Ao3 for more riordanverse fics and follow me on TikTok for cosplay (@phantomxlegend for both).

<3

[jalebi-weds-bluetooth]

TS: Farak (Difference) [1/3]

An air of melancholy seeped into the air of the Raizada mansion. In a few minutes their pillar of joy, Anjali, had crumbled into a sobbing mess. Her marriage, belief, love and trust had been tested.

And joy’s namesake, Khushi, wandered in the halls in the lonely night - hoping to find solace.

The revelation had gone terribly wrong. Anjali’s fragile mind and body had been unable to cope with the truths she had been gaslighted against. Khushi had learnt, in the worst way possible, that intentions had no place nor merit against consequences.

Khushi leaned against the door to Nani’s bedroom, her legs heavy and head throbbing from the recent events. 

Forced Marriage. Mistrust. Kidnapping. Love. Rescue. Revelation. Aftermath.

Things should have been better.  

Except Shyam’s sudden expulsion had only led to a poisonous, permanent scar that damaged and questioned all relationships.

A nervous shiver ran up her spine. Did the rest of the family believe Shyam’s version of events? Or worse, believe she could have avoided the pain caused to Anjali if she had only told the truth?

But would anyone have believed her then? Could Payal and Akash’s engagement have been salvaged from it?

A loud bang snapped Khushi out of her thoughts. A furious Akash left his room.

How does one ever know one’s making the right decision?

Her heart hurt. With a gentle push she entered Nani’s room, hoping for her guidance and strength. Nani was the first and only one to call her blameless and reach out to her post the revelation. The only one to believe in her intentions.

And it had been so long since she’d slept on someone’s lap and cried her heart out.  

---

Devyani hummed the last of an old lullaby, patting an exhausted Anjali to sleep. Had she been a bit younger, anger and shock would have ruled her. But after the death of her daughter, Devyani could only feel horror and recollection of the past.

The past that made her too agreeable to the first man who could win her dear Anjali’s heart, or heap unassuming, traditional prospective brides on her grandson.

The past she had accused her grandson of not moving on from.

Hypocrite.

On seeing the shadow of the angel faced bride of her Chotey, Devyani allowed a single, unkind thought to possess her.

She didn’t deserve to be near Anjali.

And before Devyani could reign her mind, her hand stopped Khushi from entering the room, and her heart.

---

Khushi headed towards the steps, her feet numb and head swimming with Nani’s quick apology and request.

Stay away from Anjali.

Please.

The more she sees you, the more she’ll remember.

The words stung like the slap her mother gave her on the wedding day. She deserved it, but it hurt nonetheless. Arnav sat on the steps, his own brow furrowed in deep thought. Nani’s words had pricked him, but he knew better. He knew, and believed, that Khushi was not at fault.

Her feet gave way and she sat by Arnav, quaking in fear and uncertainty.

And he banished her fears with a tired smile and an offer of his shoulder.

She didn’t remember when she reached their bed, but the fleeting kiss on her forehead and the warmth of his hand in hers gave her the hope that she wasn’t alone.

And she could lighten her burden of guilt.

As long as he was there.

---

Time and normalcy would heal all wounds. While everyone catered to Anjali, Khushi catered to the family.

Nani received her daily medication for arthritis. Akash and Payal’s breakfast was sent to their room. The laundry delivery was looked after, so were all the other household chores.

The family could focus on Anjali, and help her heal - just as it should be. Payal shot her a concerned look on her way to Anjali’s room as Khushi lost her footing for a moment, her head dizzy.

Khushi gave Payal a reassuring smile. If her mental fatigue left her like this, one could only wonder how Anjali survived the night.

If anything, Arnav’s sweet smile and a breakfast sent by her Jiji gave Khushi the strength to trudge through the day.

She sat on a kitchen stool, weary, when she remembered it was a Tuesday. Her and Nani’s time to go to the temple.

---

“Sorry Khushi bhabi, Nani ji already left,” Hari Prakash informed Khushi.

“Kya, why didn’t you tell me? When did Nani-”

“What else do you expect Phati Sari?” Manorama sneered, ushering Hari Prakash away.

“I don’t understand Mami ji,” Khushi looked at her, balking at the hatred in Manorama’s eyes.

“Spelling karke de kya? Sasuma isn’t a fool to take the reason for Anjali’s devastation to the temple when she’s trying to pray for Anjali bitiya,” Manorama seethed. The gall of the girl to think she’d go on a sunny walk with Sasumaa to the temple when everyone had barely slept a wink!

“Nahi Mamiji! I didn’t mean any of this-” Khushi reached for her hand but Manorama stepped back, nearly shoving Khushi aside.

“Shut up! You Gupta sisters did this on purpose. You both trapped our sons and ruined Anjali’s life!” Manorama cried.

“No Mami ji, why would Jiji and I do it? We just wanted to save Di from suffering,” Khushi choked, her own reasonings hollow to her ears.

Manorama, despite her anger, couldn’t argue with that one statement. Khushi and Payal, truly, had nothing to gain from Anjali’s pain.

“And that man was truly a devil, he…” Khushi shivered as memories of Shyam’s harassment assaulted her.

“Then why did you stick around him?” Manorama snapped.

“To find Arnav ji! You know that, don’t you?” Khushi pleaded. Manorama had to know the truth. She certainly didn’t believe Khushi willingly spent time with her assaulter. Did she?

“Mami-”

Manorama huffed and walked away, leaving Khushi to her questions.

---

Khushi had only meant to help Anjali. And the unborn child. Nani was in the temple, Mami wouldn’t speak to her and Payal was troubled.

It was only a morsel of food and a few words of empathy.

To the woman who had made Khushi a Raizada. To the only person who took every effort, despite the family’s shared anger, to restore Khushi’s honor by granting her the rituals of a new bride.

Her best friend, her new sister.

Di.  

It never registered with Khushi that Anjali would leave to abort her child. Nani’s disappointment and Mami’s scolding terrified her.

Payal was strung, pulled in two opposite directions when Arnav rushed in with an unconscious Anjali, and Khushi slumped on the sofa, white as a ghost.

With so many hurt, who could she help? Who should she help?

---

“You are the biggest mistake of my life Khushi Kumari Gupta,” Khushi hitched at the use of her maiden name, and his claim.

“I wish I never met you,” Arnav snarled, leaving her alone by the poolside.

Breaking her heart and taking her only hope away.

Khushi had no more tears left to cry.

---

“What happened, where are you going?” Akash asked, several hours later.

“Woh, I was thinking I should check up on Khushi. Especially since what’s been happening since this morning-”

“-and do you even know who has been suffering since this morning?” Payal bristled at his tone. Akash stared at his wife in wonder, was his mother right? Did neither of the sisters get the magnitude of their actions!?

Payal couldn’t collect her wits. How could she make him understand that Khushi had been suffering as well? She’d seen it in her little sister’s scars and terrified eyes.

She didn’t even get a chance to ask how she and Arnav had survived the kidnapping.

“You want to check on Khushi?” Akash scoffed, “Do you have any idea about Di’s state?”

“Akash I didn’t mean that. Di means just as much,” but there is no one for Khushi.

“Payal, you aren’t just Khushi’s sister. You are the daughter in law of this house. And your duties as a bahu outweighs those of a sister.” Payal stood rooted to her spot, unable to defend, unable to believe everything her husband of six months said.

“Or perhaps you don’t feel thinking or caring for Di is a part of your responsibility.” Akash stormed out of the room without a second glance.

---

After half an hour Payal mustered enough strength to go to Khushi’s room, despite Akash’s hostility. What she found was not her sister.

Pale and and delirious, Khushi shoved her clothes into her duffle bag, careless about the ripped gota and pom poms. Her hands and feet were unsteady, unable to hold on to all the clothes her thin arms carried.

“Khushi?” Khushi stopped at the gentle touch of her sister.

“Jiji, I have to leave. I… I am the cause of Di’s pain. I should have never listened to Amma, I should’ve told him the truth when time came. I… what was I thinking?!”

Payal engulfed Khushi into a hug, shushing her cries. In few, incoherent words Khushi told the truth.

The will, Arnav’s kidnapping, Mami and NK’s aid, NK discovering the whole truth, Shyam’s attempt on both of their lives, their eventual rescue.

“Khushi, you and Arnav ji haven’t visited a doctor yet?” Payal exclaimed, checking Khushi’s scars.

“Nothing happened to us Jiji, I don’t need a doctor. Par Di, I didn’t know she’ll end-”

“Khushi, no, you and Arnav ji will head to a hospital-”

“-Bhai,” Akash stepped in the room, with no effort to hide his disappointment, “Payal, of course, you’re here. Di got up. I don’t know where’s her medication is and she needed food-”

“Hum abhi-”

“No it’s ok, talk to your sister, I’ll figure everything out.” Akash stepped out, leaving Payal torn. Which sister should she attend to?

Payal didn’t have to decide. Khushi ushered her out, after a promise to head to the doctor. In her heart Payal knew that Khushi hadn’t told her one thing.

Arnav’s reaction to Anjali’s abortion attempt.

---

Khushi could barely stand on her two feet, her world turning before her every second. At one moment Arnav claimed that he didn’t mean anything he had said before, in another he reduced their marriage to the contract he forcibly bound her to.

What did he not mean? If every word of what he said is not what he meant, then was his current threat of their contract marriage also not true? Or the whisper of an “I Love you” over the phone?

Arnav turned around, unable to meet Khushi’s eyes. He could no longer lie to her.

And she would not stop at his plea.

He’d make up for every injury up, every pain. He just needed time. And if it was necessary to hurt her to get her to stay back, he would do so. If he needed to confirm that their marriage, and everything in between, was nothing more than a contract… he would do so.

He could not afford to lose her.

“If I leave… drag me to court? Police? Jail?”

“I’d do what I promised,” Arnav swallowed, unable to hold his shame in his lie, “Separate Akash and Payal.” Stealing his resolve, he said, “By now you know-”

Thump.

He turned and lost his footing. Dread stole his voice and clutched his heart in a vice grip.

A silent scream left his mouth.

Khushi lay on the floor, motionless.

---

Read Part 2

---

A/N: Second part will be up soon. A big thank you to @ridzmystique​ for checking on this story and pushing me to complete Farak. Thank you for reading/liking.

[purplesurveys]

1185

survey by xflirtykaosx

Alphabetti Spaghetti (3/3)

Please believe. - P

How many pages did the last book you read have? I don’t even remember the last time I opened it; but if I have to guess, it’s probably anywhere between 600–800 pages.

What do you like on your pancakes? Soaked in butter, with peanut butter and maple syrup on the side. My dad will also sometimes mix bacon into the batter, and it always turns out delicious.

Do you like small parties or large parties more? I love going to any kind of party, but I like large ones just a little bit more just because it’s easier to blend in and go unnoticed for the most part. I usually feel pressured at smaller parties.

What was the last exam you passed in? I have no idea. Maybe a history exam? I remember taking a Rizal exam right before the pandemic started and I never got the results for that since classes were canceled shortly after. I’ll never know if I actually passed that test haha.

Do you think paw prints are cute? Yesssssss.

How much would you pay a neighbour to do your lawn? We have someone in the village who does that, and my mom usually gives him a tip of I would guess around ₱100.

Ordinary pens, scented pens, gel pens or felt tip pens? Ordinary. The other ones write horribly.

Are you a people person? I’ve grown to be one over the years. I do like my alone time, but I have the most fun with a person or two or ten around me.

Do you put pepper on your scrambled eggs? No. I never use pepper myself, actually.

Who, except yourself, has the nicest pet? Angela’s, at least one of her dogs are. Hailey is super nice and she doesn’t really care what you do with her hahahaha.

What's your favourite piece of clothing? Right now, probably my IVP sneakers since they’re my newest purchase. Other than that, my mom jeans are always super reliable.

What place have you gone to that you never would again? Police stations that I had to visit to cover stories for my journalism classes. Maybe it’s other people’s passion – and I thought it was mine at one point, too – but once I found myself in places like that I slowly realized that I didn’t have the fire for journalism I once thought I had.

What do others seem to have plenty of and you have little or none? Nice photos of themselves. I’m very camera shy.

Is pink a nice colour, an okay colour or icky? I personally love pink, so.

Give me a description of a great film plotline? ...I don’t feel like it :(( I also haven’t watched/rewatched any films in a while, so my memory is a bit rusty.

What do you have in your pockets? Nothing I’m wearing right now has pockets.

Do you listen to podcasts? Not really. I’m part of the minority that finds podcasts a little boring.

Have you ever played Poker? I’d guess I’ve tried playing it one or two times, but I’ve never understood the rules and I probably just did some random moves when I did try it.

Do you have a pond in your garden? No.

How about a swimming pool? We don’t.

Do you like Poptarts? I loooooove Pop Tarts and I wish we had more flavors here :( and that they weren’t so expensive.

Do you write notes on post-it notes? Sometimes; but lately I’ve mostly just been making to-do lists on my laptop. Writing takes too much time considering how hectic my job is.

Quiet darling, shh. - Q

Do you ever use the word quaint? Very rarely. I never really get into situations where that word would be most fitting to use.

Do you know what quantum physics is? I know of the term from watching The Big Bang Theory, but I don’t know what it refers to.

Are you a quiet or loud person? Depends on the people I’m with, my general mood, and my level of comfort.

Do you usually ask a lot of questions? I never do. I feel like that’s a weakness of mine, too. My mind never wanders too far, and I’m only able to recognize good questions when someone else raises them.

What's your favourite quote from a film? “Rome. By all means, Rome.”

Favourite quote from a song? “Now I’m told this is life, and pain is just a simple compromise so we can get what we want out of it.”

Are you quick witted? In what aspect? Not always; but yeah, I guess it comes out sometimes. I’m pretty good at witty or funny comebacks, especially with people I’m comfortable with.

Do you find the word queer offensive? Er, no?

Roses are Red and Romance is dead. - R

Do you listen to the radio often? I used to, since I once drove to school everyday and I liked having the radio on - especially in the morning, since there was a morning program I was hooked to. But now that I’m at home 24/7, I don’t really tune in anymore; I don’t even have the slightest clue what songs are trending rn.

Do you prefer rain or snow? We only get rain, so.

Have you ever ran into someone and injured you or them due to it? Fortunately no, for both circumstances.

Do you listen to rap music? K-Pop groups always have their own rap sub-unit, so yeah I’ve definitely been more exposed to rap these days.

Do you find pet rats gross or nice? Why? I guess it’s cute when they’re pets, since I’m sure they’re harmless. Not so much when they’re big black filthy rats that are house pests and probably carrying a lot of diseases.

Have you ever been to a rave? No. I’d love to experience it once.

Are you somewhat of a rebel? Nah.

How about reckless? Now this hits the spot more, especially when it comes to money lol

Do you prefer red, black or purple dresses? Black, then red, then purple. I don’t wear a lot of the latter to begin with.

Do you know how to reload a gun? I don’t; I’ve never even held a real gun before.

Do you remember your first best friends Mum's name? I don’t think I ever met her mom. Our friendship was super short-lived and didn’t go beyond preschool.

Do you have a good or a bad reputation? Idk, you’d have to ask other people for this I think.

What song do you request most often on the radio? I’ve never requested a song to radio stations.

Do you prefer rice or tofu? I need rice for literally every meal, otherwise it won’t feel filling. I like tofu too, but I only have it occasionally when it comes with some dishes.

Have you ever held a rifle? Nope.

Do you know a Robert? What's he like? I have an uncle-in-law named Robert. He’s very nice, and super intelligent; he’s from New Zealand but currently lives with my aunt and their family in Vietnam. Since he’s from a different country, he has lots of fun stories and different perspectives to share at family reunions, which makes me always want to sit at whichever table he’s at so that I can be part of interesting conversations.

Do you like rollercoasters? No.

Been to Rome, Italy? Nope.

Are Roses your favourite flower? They’re one of them.

So sweetheart, lets fan. - S

Do you feel safe in your neighbourhood? Yeah, I mean that’s kind of the whole point in living in a gated village. I’d be pretty alarmed if I ever hear of a crime happening here.

Whose the Patron Saint of your Country? St. Lorenzo Ruiz. I actually didn’t know that for a fact, so thanks for the Google search and impromptu lesson!

Do you put salt on your fries? Yessssssss, I need my fries to be very salty. Unless it was already seasoned with something else, I’d find it boring if it wasn’t salty enough.

Do you think we are all born the same? In some ways, yes; in some ways, no. I know everyone is born as humans worthy of love and respect, but when it comes to factors like privilege then that’s when circumstances start to get all different.

When did you stop believing in Santa? I never bought it. I used to always get frustrated that I was never allowed to meet Santa (none of my relatives ever played as him), and that he apparently just likes to leave gifts at midnight. Not seeing a Santa made me doubt and eventually I just kinda stopped buying it by the time I was like 5.

Do you think the name Sarah is pretty? Erm, it’s fine but I find it a little common.

Is Saturday your favourite day of the week? Fridays are, but Saturdays are a very close second.

Have you ever watched Saved By The Bell? Opinions? Nope.

What about the Saw films? Opinion? I haven’t, but I know they’re my eldest cousin’s favorite so it must be a good series.

Are you easily scared? In certain ways. I hate jumpscares for one, and I easily get offended by them.

What's your secondary language, if any? English.

Name all the things you can see from where you're sitting? The entirety of my bedroom.

What's the last sentence you spoke out loud? “JAY KAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY”

Have you changed your default settings on your computer? Some of them just to change some aspects of the appearance, but I didn’t do a complete overhaul.

What year did you turn seven in? 2005.

How important is sex in a relationship how important is sex from 1-10? For me, probably like a 3 or 4.

What is your favourite shade of blue? Sky or royal.

Shade of Purple? BTS purple, I guess? Hahaha.

Favourite shape? I don’t have one.

Do you know a girl called Sharon? Nope.

How about Shari? Nope.

Do you shave your arms, legs, pubic hair and/or somewhere else? I shave, but not all of these areas.

When was the last time you were sick? May 2020 was the last time I felt like death.

What's the worst side effects you've had due to a medication? I’ve never gone through side effects from a medication.

What does your signature look like? A very lazy scribble of the first and last letters of my whole name.

Do you like silk? What do you own that is silk? It’s okay, but I never actively search for it. I have one set of silk pajamas but that’s it.

Do you sip or drink hot drinks fast? As much as possible I don’t like getting in contact with hot beverages. I wait for them to cool down considerably before I take my first sip.

How about with alcohol? Sure, I like to take them fast so that I don’t feel the nasty burn on my tongue.

Do you have sisters? How many, what ages and what're they called? Nina is turning 21 this year.

Is your grandmother older than sixty five? Both of them are, yeah.

Do you slam doors often? Nope.

Have you ever slapped someone in the face? For what reason? Yes. Because he had slapped me first. I was in so much shock that my first and only instinct was to hit back.

Do you snack a lot or just eat big meals? I like letting myself go hungry then reward myself with a very generous serving to eat in one go.

Do you smile more often, or frown? Smile.

Are you wearing socks? No, I haven’t worn any in a while.

Do you say sorry too often? Yes.

What's a sound that always soothes you? This. I always play it before turning in, or when I need to calm down.

Do you carry a lot of spare change? How much is on you now? Not so much anymore, since I’ve been increasingly going cashless.

Do you own a swimsuit of the Speedo brand? I don’t think so.

Do you like sunflowers? They have a personal meaning to me, so yes. It’s not my ultra favorite, though.

[fanfictionfans]

Shape up!

This was not what you wanted to be doing on a Saturday morning. You had a full day planned with you’re soon to be sister in law, Ada. She was expecting you anytime now. But, apparently that was going to have to wait......

Instead you were standing inside the garrison waiting for John, Arthur & you’re soon to be husband, Tommy. You phoned Tommy when you got there due to Finn. You had stopped there to get some Whiskey to bring to Adas but found him currently passed out on top of the bar with snow still on his noise from the night before you could only assume and his clothing scattered about the place.

You sighed and started picking up his clothing from the floor. Where was the girl, you wondered.

“Fucking moron” you mumbled out loud as the door swung open and footsteps entered the room.

Turning around you glared at the boys. “about bloody time.” you said throwing Finn’s clothing at John.

“ay, morning to you to sis” John smirked kissing you’re cheek

“you know I’m supposed to be with Ada right now, right? Shes going to freak” You said looking between John and Arthur now.

“yea I know.. Tom called her and said you would be late, shes on her way as well” Arthur said kissing you’re cheek as well.

you sighed walking over to where Finn was on the counter

“I thought you guys talked to him about this..”

“We did darling.” Tommy said slamming the door to the Garrison. Still, Finn was un-phased.

You rolled you’re eyes. You’re husband is definitely in a pissy mood now and to think just two hours ago he was completely content with the world seeing as his dick was inside you.

“Clearly that didn't work, Darling” you snapped back causing John and Arthur to smirk

“Well, lets try a different tactic. Wake him up then” Tommy said leaning against a table when lighting his cigarette

You looked at him, then eyed John & Arthur who were now against the wooden column next to where Tommy was.

You sighed “Fine.”

Walking over to Finn you grabbed a bottle of Whiskey & climbed onto of the counter.

“Wake up sunshine” you said pouring the bottle on his face. Finn shot straight up and turned straight to you

“The fuck y’n!” He shouted

You jumped down from the counter and stared at him “Yeah, the fuck is right!” You yelled in his face

“Well, good morning brother. Sleep well?” John said in a casual tone causing Finn to go still. Apparently, he was not aware of johns presence until this point. So, when he finally turned to look where the voice came from he now saw all his brothers standing there.

You could see Finn was almost as white as the powder that was on his noise was when you walked in. You almost felt bad. Casting your attention over to Tommy, he was now supporting a murderous look on his face. Arthur, Tommy and John have told Finn time and time again he needed to shape up. No more getting into unnecessary fights and to lay off the snow and quit drinking so much. But, that did not sink in.

“I told you..I told you and I told you, time and time again” Tommy smirked taking a puff of his cigarette and staring at Finn who was to scared to move from his spot.

“Tommy..I” Fin tried to get out but Tommy cut him off

Tommy yelled “I fucking told you!” taking his gun out of his holster and pointing it at his little brother’s head

You screamed

“TOMMY!” trying to get in between Finn’s body and Tommy’s gun which was extremely unsuccessful due to John pulling you back and holding you in his arms

“What did I tell you! Lay off the fucking snow and what do you do? You get piss drunk underage with no family members around snort the fucking snow and pass out with the doors to the garrison unlocked! Any single one of our enemy's could of came in here and whacked you in you’re sleep and we would of found you’re fucking body in here!”

Finn started stuttering “I..I’m sorry Tommy..I’m sorry”

Tommy stared at him “No”

“Tommy stop!” you yelled

He finally looked at you and turned back to Finn who now had his eyes shut.

“What the fuck is going on in here!” Ada Yelled slamming the front door.

Tommy Lowered his gun and put it back in the holster. Stepping forward he grabbed Fin by the ear and pulled him forward  “If you EVER disobey me again brother”

“Never! I Swear Tom” Finn replied fast

“Good” Tommy said letting go of his brother

You sigh and John lets his hold on you go

“Right! Well.. Finn, get you’re fucking clothes on” Arthur said to him as he scrambled to get them on quickly

“Now! Ada & John here are going to take Finn back to Aunt Polly's and John can explain what happened. Arthur here is going to get ready to open his bar up and y/n and I”  Tommy stopped to throw his cigarette into the ash tray on the counter

“are going to go in the other room, close the doors and fuck. Any questions?” Tommy asked and everyone was quiet

“No? Good!” he said grabbing you’re hand and leading you into the next room.

“Are you fucking crazy?! You where going to shoot Finn!” You screamed at him as he shut the door

he tried to talk “Babe..”

“Don’t babe me, what the fuck where you thinking??!” You yelled back

Tommy had enough he pulled the gun out, pointed it to the wall and fired with nothing coming out.

“See, nothing.” He said throwing his gun to the floor “Bang” he said with a smirk

You looked at him in disbelief “You fucking asshole! You just tried to scare him! Did John and Arthur know about that??’

“Of course, now forgive me and lets fuck before Ada comes back to get you” He smirks backing you up against the wall.

Hi Everyone!

I hope you enjoy. If you would like me to write anything just let me know below, i’m taking requests I’ve wrote before on here but then I stated using Archive of our own.. I’m trying to get back to writing on here and moving my work from archive to trumblr <3

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE - MON AMOUR (S01E02)

Heather Darden: Okay, guys, let’s get you whatever you want, 

                             okay?

Kelly Severide: Heather.

Darden Boys: Hi Kelly!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Hey! Hey, guys. 

Heather Darden: [nervous laugh] Okay, okay, kids, let’s go in 

                             [nervous laugh].

Kelly Severide: Hey, how are you doing?

Heather Darden: I’m good, Kelly. I gotta go in.

Kelly Severide: Uh…H-H-Hey…Wait, I’ve…been meaning to come 

                           by and…

Heather Darden: Just save it, really.

Kelly Severide: Come on. Andy and I were…

Heather Darden: Stop…right there. Andy never even would have 

                             been a firefighter if it weren’t for you.

                                            [somber music]

                                   [siren wailing in the distance]

                                               cutscene

                                            [siren wailing]

Landlady: Didn’t I tell you, don’t plug nothing in? Look at this! 

                                        [indistinct chatter]

Landlady: You know what time it is?

                  But you want to play, Mr. Flamethrower, huh? What y’all 

                  lookin’ at?  

                  You better pray for him.

                                     [firetruck door shut]

Landlady: You know what, you in a world of trouble now.

Matt Casey: Smells like a grease fire.

Jose Vargas: We’ll bring the ANSULS. 

Matt Casey: Up on the roof, ready to vent, just in case.

Firefighter: Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: Ma’am.

Landlady: Kinda thick, ain’t you? 

                  Let ‘em in, idiot!

                                       [indistinct chatter]

                                    [door handle jiggling]

                                     [door kicked open]

Matt Casey: Sir, you gotta move out of here.

Joe Cruz: That’s it?

Matt Casey: Hit it!

Otis Zvonecek: Anything to piss off the engine.

                                 [fire extinguisher spraying]

Matt Casey: Come on, buddy, you gotta go.

Tenant: I can’t.

Matt Casey: I’m not asking.

Tenant: My hot plate caught on fire. My landlord will kill me. I got no 

              place to go. I can’t go! I can’t! I can’t! [pants]

                                             cutscene

Tenant: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Ma’am, is this your place?

Landlady: You damn right it is.

Matt Casey: That your microwave down in the basement?

Landlady: Oh, what of it?

Matt Casey: Frayed electric cord that started this. Place would’ve 

                      burned to the ground if not for this man. He’s a hero.

Otis Zvonecek: Sir, I just want to say, never seen a civilian act so 

                           bravely.

Landlady: Get over here. I was so worried about you.

Firefighter: Yo fool, that’s not what we taught you!

Kelly Severide: Hey! Candidate! One hand on the beam, candidate! 

                          I don’t care if you’re carrying a damn cow! Men die 

                          when they relax.

Matt Casey: Okay, Kelly. He gets it.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, he better.

Matt Casey: He’s right. One hand on the beam no matter what.

Peter Mills: Yeah, okay.

Gabby Dawson: Next Wednesday, can you…can you do my shift 

                            for me?

Leslie Shay: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: I have a thing.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, that should be fine.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. Right. Right.

Kelly Severide: Hey.

Leslie Shay: Hey. 

Kelly Severide: I need something.

Leslie Shay: [sighs]

                     It’s the last one.

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: I mean it.

Kelly Severide: Right, it’s all good.

                                                 - Title Screen -

Otis Zvonecek: What’s with the goat?

Joe Cruz: What?

Otis Zvonecek: The Truck 81 seal, or symbol, or w-whatever it’s 

                            called, it’s a goat.

Joe Cruz: It’s a fighting goat.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, t-they’ve got Cerberus, the three-headed  

                           dog that guards the gates of hell. We got a 

                           friggin’ goat.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Matt Casey: Morning.

Kelly Severide: Hey. How are the Darden kids doing? You talked to 

                          Heather at all?

Matt Casey: Uh, yeah. As good as can be expected, I suppose.  

                     You seem ‘em?

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Matt Casey: I hear they’re coming to the barbecue.

Kelly Severide: Good.

Matt Casey: Yeah.

                                                 cutscene

                                      [knocks on doorframe]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Chief, you got a second?

Chief Boden: Sure, Kelly.

Kelly Severide: Looking for a few extra shifts this month. How’s 

                          Saturday sound?

Chief Boden: Saturday’s barbecue.

Kelly Severide: I’ve been there before.

Chief Boden: No way. Every man on deck on this one.

Kelly Severide: Chief, I could really use the cash…

Chief Boden: Ask me next month.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

                                                 cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, hey, check it out [laughs].

Joe Cruz: Oh, yeah! Best benefit all year, boys!

Jose Vargas: He’s not lying.

Mouch: We’re there when you feed us.

Joe Cruz: Hey, you know about fire fans, Peter Mills? 

Otis Zvonecek: They’re chicks who follow firemen like flies to 

                           honey.

Joe Cruz: Bees, Otis. ‘Bees to honey.’

Otis Zvonecek: Whatever, we’re still the honey.

                           Hey Lieutenant, why do we have a goat on our 

                           truck?

Matt Casey: Years ago, Truck 81’s first fire was at a goat farm in 

                      Little Italy.

Otis Zvonecek: Really?

Matt Casey: Mmhmm.

Mouch: Nah, they used to have a goat at the station, so they didn’t 

              have to mow the grass.

Otis Zvonecek: Huh. I thought that’s what candidates are for.

Joe Cruz: [snickers]

                                             [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Smoke-eater in the house.

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, no way.

Joe Cruz: [claps]

Squad Table: [loud cheers]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

                                [loud cheering and clapping]

                                   [ambulance door shuts]

All: Welcome back.

Otis Zvonecek: Jeez, man.

Christopher Herrmann: They ticked a nerve in my leg. I may not 

                                         walk straight again.

Jose Vargas: Candidate, get him a chair!

                                   [chair rolling across floor]

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, kid.

                                         Ah, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a 

                                         second fellas, are any of my kids around 

                                         here? My wife or her parents?

Otis Zvonecek: No, why?

Christopher Herrmann: What the hell? I’m healed! Ah! [cheering]  

                                         I’m healed! It must have been living with  

                                         my damn in-laws that was breaking me 

                                         down!

                                         Ah! All right, I’m not that healed.

Matt Casey: You ready to get back?

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah.

Chief Boden: Glad you’re back, Herrmann. We’re a better house  

                       with you here.

Christopher Herrmann: Thanks, Chief. 

Chief Boden: Uh, later we’re going to have a white board session 

                       about what happened in the Darden incident last  

                       month. I expect you all to be there. But on another  

                       note this is Nicki Rutkowski.

Hadley: Hello…

Chief Boden: She’s going to be working with us next month,  

                       helping out with the payroll. Her father is one  

                       of my oldest friends. We were in the Navy together,  

                       so y’all just treat her like she’s your very own…sister.

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks for having me.

Christopher Herrmann: Welcome. Don’t screw up the checks – the 

                                         first and 15th.

Nicki Rutkowski: Oh, I will. 

                                                 [laughing]

                                               [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, multiple injuries. 

Firefighter: Let’s go!

(Over PA): Squad 3, Truck 81, Engine 51, Ambulance 61.

                                    [engine revs, sirens blaring]

                                              [horns honking]

                                              [sirens shut off]

                                            [indistinct chatter]

Kelly Severide: What’s going on?

Workman 1: The foundation collapsed, and there’s three guys  

                      down in the basement hole.

Chief Boden: I’m gonna need a 2 ½ up there.

Firefighter: On it.

Kelly Severide: Let’s go.

Workman 1: It’s over here. They’re down there.

Chief Boden: Okay.

Workman 1: The whole floor collapsed. We were pouring concrete 

                      for the second and third stories and the foundation  

                      just gave way.

Chief Boden: (into radio) There’s no fire, but let’s drop the 2 ½ into 

                        the hole…from the ladder.

                       (over radio) Cruz, hurry it up!

                                          [machine revving]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Get that hose up here.

                       (into radio) There’s good. 

                       (over radio) This area may give some more so let’s 

                       move quickly.

                       (into radio) Now charge it.

                       Okay. 

                      (over radio) Okay.

Otis Zvonecek: He’s pretty banged up, but okay. I don’t think we 

                           should move him.

Matt Casey: Dawson, you down there?

Gabby Dawson: Go for Dawson.

Matt Casey: We need you up here.

Gabby Dawson: Come on. 

                                          [chatter over radio]

Chief Boden: (over radio) Shay and Dawson are on their way down.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, that’s a first.

Workman 2/Victim 1: I’m under here! I’m under here!

Matt Casey: You okay?

Workman 2/Victim 1: [grunts]

Matt Casey: Can you sit up?

Workman 2/Victim 1: Yeah. Peter’s farther down. I heard him 

                                     talking, but I couldn’t see him!

Matt Casey: Here, take him out.

                     Peter?

Peter: I knew this was gonna be a bad day. Told my wife 

            this morning I had a premonition.

Matt Casey: Are you hurt?

Peter: I can’t breathe. Can’t move.

Matt Casey: Alright, we’ll get you out.

                     I need three pike poles and a saw!

Firefighter: Right away, Lieutenant!

                                     [indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Ready to bring him up.

Workman 3/Victim 2: [groans and grunts]

Firefighter: Alright. Watch the wood.

Matt Casey: How you doing down there, Peter?

Peter: I’ve been better.

Kelly Severide: I’m going in.

Matt Casey: It’s unstable.

Kelly Severide: Aren’t we all?

Matt Casey: (into radio) Let’s widen the hole but get ready to pull 

                      back if this debris shifts.

Firefighter: (over radio) Message received.

Peter: Not so bad, right?

Kelly Severide: It’s Peter, right? 

                          Can you move your foot?

Peter: No, I haven’t even felt it for half an hour.

Kelly Severide: [grunts]

                           How about the rest of you?

Peter: Can’t breathe too good.

           [groans and winces]

Kelly Severide: Okay, okay.

Peter: Just…just get my foot out, I’ll be fine.

Kelly Severide: Alright, we’re gonna get you out of here.

Peter: Do me one favour.

Kelly Severide: Uh, yeah? [pants]

Peter: No lies [gasps]

Kelly Severide: Fair enough, I think you’re bleeding on the inside. 

                          Your foot is the least of your problems.

                          Casey! We need this hole opened up!

Matt Casey: On it. Go, Cruz. 

                                              [saw buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Hang on, we’ll get you back to your wife in no time.

Peter: Yeah, sure. 

Kelly Severide: You saying I got a bad poker face?

Peter: I’m saying I’d be all-in on that one. 

Kelly Severide: Well, you’re breathing and talking, so that’s good.

                              [structure rumbling and crumbling]

Matt Casey: Hold on!

                                          [indistinct chatter]

Matt Casey: Severide?

Kelly Severide: Yeah, fine! Get Dawson over here!

Matt Casey: Dawson!

Gabby Dawson: Here.

Kelly Severide: His lower leg is trapped. There’s internal bleeding.

Gabby Dawson: There’s no way to release it?

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Other than that, everything’s peachy.

Gabby Dawson: Alright, I’ll call for a trauma surgeon.

Kelly Severide: Hey, how long?

Gabby Dawson: I don’t know.

Peter: And what would a trauma surgeon do that you couldn’t? 

Kelly Severide: Take off your foot.

Gabby Dawson: This is Ambulance 61 on Med Channel 5.

Channel 5: Go ambulance 61.

Gabby Dawson: We need a trauma surgeon for a possible 

                            amputation. 

Firefighter: Easy, easy.

Workman 2/Victim 1: [groans]

Channel 5: Copy that, 61. Stand by while I shift to trauma. 

                                        [indistinct chatter]

Firefighter: Okay, pull him up.

Firefighter: Got him.

Peter: What’s your name?

Kelly Severide: Severide, Kelly. Everyone pretty much calls me 

                          Severide.

Peter: Kelly. You married, Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: No.

Peter: Don’t wait too long. My wife’s name is Georgie. Her dad 

           wanted a boy, but he kept getting girls. 

Kelly Severide: [chuckles] There was a barbershop on my street 

                          named Harris and Sons. Mr. Harris named it when 

                          his wife was pregnant with their first; ended up 

                          having five girls [laughs]

Peter: [chuckle turns into a coughing fit]

Kelly Severide: Alright, easy.

                                           [indistinct chatter]

Leslie Shay: Severide, find a vein and get this saline into him.

Kelly Severide: How long on the surgeon?

Leslie Shay: 15 minutes.

Peter: Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: We don’t have time for a surgeon. You’re gonna have to do  

           it. Take off the foot [pants]. Get me out of here, get me home. 

Kelly Severide: Tell that surgeon to hurry the hell up! 

Gabby Dawson: (into radio) Chopper him here if you have to!

Channel 5: Negative, 61. Your trauma surgeon’s already enroute. 

                         [structure rumbling and crumbling]

Kelly Severide: You alright?

Peter: [coughs]

Matt Casey: Severide, we need to pull back. It’s gonna give.

Peter: He’s right. Go.

Kelly Severide: Casey, I need a Sawzall!

Matt Casey: Mills, lower me a Sawzall.

Peter: Uh…[whimpers]

Kelly Severide: Hey, Peter.

Peter: Yeah, I’m st…still with you, Kelly. 

Kelly Severide: Tell me about Georgie.

Peter: [chuckles] I…I married above my head. 

Kelly Severide: [small chuckle]

Peter: Been playing catch-up ever since. 

Kelly Severide: Do you have any children.

Peter: No, w-we tried.

Matt Casey: Severide

Peter: [coughs]

                                           [saw whirrs]

Peter: Kelly? 

Kelly Severide: Yeah?

Peter: [breathing heavily] You got a phone?

                                           [siren wailing]

(Over Radio): 61, your trauma surgeon’s on scene. 

Leslie Shay: Dawson, here’s here!

Gabby Dawson: Trauma surgeon’s on his way down.

Kelly Severide: It’s a recovery now.

                                          [somber music]

                                               cutscene

                                     [firetruck door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Dawson, Shay! Get over here. We got 

                                        something for you.

                                        Come on, let’s go. Bring it out, open it up 

                                        [humming]

Leslie Shay: Ohhh.

                     Wow! 

Christopher Herrmann: Hey!

                                         [awing and cooing]

Christopher Herrmann: They obviously got their artistic talent from

                                         their mother.

Leslie Shay: That’s so lovely!

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, you guys, these are the ladies that 

                                        saved my life.

                                        Come on, give ‘em a clap.

                                                [clapping]

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah, yeah!

                                               [cheering]

Leslie Shay: Thank you, guys!

                      Thank you.

                                      [clapping continues]

Christopher Herrmann: There you go.

                                               cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: All I’m just saying is, I’m more than happy to  

                          design a new seal more reflective of the truck   

                          we are. Anything besides a goat.

Christopher Herrmann: What’s he on about?

Matt Casey: He doesn’t like our crest.

Christopher Herrmann: I love that goat. That goat’s all about  

                                        reversing the curse.

Peter Mills: What curse?

Christopher Herrmann: The cubs. A goat owner cursed ‘em once,  

                                        which is why they always suck. Everyone 

                                        knows that.

Otis Zvonecek: So we have a cursed crest?

Christopher Herrmann: How the hell should I know? Leave it 

                                        alone. The goat rocks!

Otis Zvonecek: Of course you would think that.

                                            [phone ringing]

Phone Operator: Please leave a message after the tone…[beep]

Kelly Severide: Uh…[sighs]

Chief Boden: Okay. They’re good guys. 

                       Kelly. 

                       After you.

District Chief Walker: Darden was entering the attic window here,  

                                     while squad 3 was conducting first floor   

                                     search rescue here. Fire started in the   

                                     basement, spread up into the kitchen. Now,   

                                     we all know fire is in a constant hunt for   

                                     oxygen. It’s why we cut our vent point away   

                                     from our entry point. No vent, and the fire’s  

                                     comin’ after us. What started in the  

                                     basement, now is looking for a way out. 

                                                        [flashback]

District Chief Walker: A larger vent cut in the back of the house,  

                                     and the fire  would have made it upstairs.

Chief Boden: Kelly.

                                                     cutscene

                                       [indistinct chatter over radio]

Otis Zvonecek: Oh, candidate, dress blues to the barbecue.

Peter Mills: Really?

Joe Cruz: The commissioner’s gonna be there, along with half the  

                  deputies and most of the chiefs. It’s a big deal.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah, they cracked Herrmann last year for 

                            forgetting his cap.

Joe Cruz: Go back and read the poster. Full dress blues. 

                                                     cutscene

                               [car drives by and comes to a stop]

Hallie Thomas: Double crown moulding? No expense spared on 

                          that.

Matt Casey: Yeah, well, it’s getting there.

Hallie Thomas: You’re never gonna want to leave.

Matt Casey: All depends on what the offer is.

                     So what’s up? 

Hallie Thomson: I said I would bring a dessert to the barbecue. I  

                             understand if you don’t want me to go.

Matt Casey: No, you should come. We should go together.

Hallie Thomson: You sure?

Matt Casey: Yeah. Heather Darden’s bringing the boys. 

Hallie Thomson: Well, good. This will be fun.

Matt Casey: I’ll pick you up at 2.

Hallie Thomas: Okay. 

                                            [engine drives off]

                                                  cutscene

Leslie Shay: There’s Willie, our favourite doorman!

                      Willie!

Doorman (Willie): Hey ladies!

Gabby Dawson: Willie! Hey!

Leslie Shay: Ah. I should flash him next time. Love that guy.

Gabby Dawson: Unprofessional.

(Over radio): Ambulance 61, battery, 71 West Superior.

Leslie Shay: (into radio) Ambulance 61, responding.

                                          [sirens blaring]

Leslie Shay: Alright, alright, give us some room. Give us some 

                     room. Come on.

                                       [indistinct chatter]

Drunk Man: I just…I’ll sue everyone. [indistinct ramblings] You go  

                     home. Just back. Go back to wherever you…

Leslie Shay: Uh, huh.

Drunk Man: [slurs]…wherever you came from. I’m not…

Gabby Dawson: You got a nasty cut there.

Drunk Man: Eh, get your hands off me!

Gabby Dawson: Hey, we’re with the CFD, sir, here to fix you up.

Drunk Man: Fix me up? No! No, it’s these Irish inbreeds you   

                     should be fixing up. I’ve got four brothers, and 

                     they’re both…

Leslie Shay: Ugh!

Drunk Man: They’re…both of them are gonna…they’re gonna own 

                     this place.

Leslie Shay: Hey, what happened here? 

Bartender: No one here saw anything.

Drunk Man: It’s called a black and tan!

Bartender: It’s called a half and half, you moron!

Drunk Man: Ireland sucks! 

                     [singing] God save our gracious queen. Long live our 

                     n…

Someone from crowd: Oh shut up, you tosser!

                          [indistinct shouting and glass smashing]

Gabby Dawson: Let’s…let’s move him now, alright?

                             Alright, come on.

Drunk Man: [singing] God save the queen.

Gabby Dawson: Yup, we’re going. Let’s go.

Someone from crowd: Shut your mouth!

Bartender: Piss off!

Leslie Shay: Let’s go! Move over!

Gabby Dawson: Move. Move, guys.

Bartender: Don’t come back!

Someone from crowd: Piss off!

Someone from crowd: Get out of here.

                                       [siren wailing]

Leslie Shay: Oh come on!

Gabby Dawson: Come on!

Drunk Man: Alright, okay, I’m…

Patrol Officer 1: We got this.

Leslie Shay: Thank God. Have fun in there.

Drunk Man: [singing] O Lord our God…

Gabby Dawson: You gotta give it a rest and hold still, sir!

Drunk Man: Black and tan. Black and tan. Black and tan. Bl…

                     Hello, sweet cheeks.

Gabby Dawson: [yelps] Hey! Get your hands off me!

Leslie Shay: Whoa! Whoa! 

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: So you’re gonna bring that doctor to the barbecue?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I don’t know.

Leslie Shay: Honestly, not every decision has to be an act of  

                     congress. Just keep it simple.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Leslie Shay: Oh, did you hear about Hallie and Casey?

Gabby Dawson: What? What?

Leslie Shay: Whoa!

Gabby Dawson: Stop it. Tell me. What is it?

Leslie Shay: Nothing, just some rumours running around that, uh, 

                      that maybe they’re splitting up. He’s moved out.

Gabby Dawson: What? No, really?

Leslie Shay: It’s just what I’ve heard.

                      Okay, what do you think?

Gabby Dawson: Nice work.

                                            [giggling]

                                            cutscene

                                            [giggling]

Nurse: Wow [snorts], where’d you find this one?

Drunk Man: [snores]

Leslie Shay: Dawson was actually making out with him and, uh, he  

                     fainted and bumped his head.

Gabby Dawson: When he wakes up, tell him I said thanks for a 

                            great time.

Nurse: Uh, huh. Alright.

Hallie Thomas: Ladies.

Leslie Shay: Speak for yourself.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, Hallie.

Hallie Thomas: You guys going to the barbecue?

Leslie Shay: Wouldn’t miss it.

Hallie Thomas: Matt and I are bringing his aunt’s famous   

                           brownies. At least she always tells me 

                           they’re famous. I will see you there.

Gabby Dawson: Nice intel. 

                            Thanks.

Leslie Shay: Sorry.

Dr. Mike: Gabby.

Gabby Dawson: Mike, hi.

Dr. Mike: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: Hi.

Dr. Mike: How are you?

Gabby Dawson: I’m…good. 

Dr. Mike: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: Good. 

Dr. Mike: Good.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, uh, say, what are you doing on Saturday?

                                                Cutscene

                                                 [music]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey! Lee Henry! I’m not gonna tell you  

                                        again! Put the stick down before I beat 

                                        you with it!

Vargas, Cruz & Otis: Whoa, whoa, whoa! What was that?

Jose Vargas: Take it easy.

Christopher Herrmann: You gotta be fair but firm.

Joe Cruz: [chuckles]

Jose Vargas: Okay. 

Christopher Herrmann: Yeah!

Otis, Cruz, Mouch, Vargas, Herrmann: Hoh, oh. Oh, ho, hoh! 

                                                                 [clapping] Yes! 

Jose Vargas: Nice!

                                                [cheering]

Joe Cruz: Fabulous!

Peter Mills: Howdy.

Otis Zvonecek: When’s the parade, candidate?

Peter Mills: Ha ha, that’s a good one. Good one, Otis.

Joe Cruz: Hey! You, uh, taking collections for the salvation army?

                                               [laughing]

Christopher Herrmann: Got ice cream?

Peter Mills: That’s original. That’s really good.

Brunette: Excuse me, are you the captain?

Otis Zvonecek: Well, no, miss. He’s actually the commissioner.

Peter Mills: No, no, no, no I’m not.

Brunette: Really?

Otis Zvonecek: No, Yeah, yeah he is. He’s the youngest one in 

                           Chicago history.

Brunette: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: Go show her where the beer cooler is, 

                          commissioner.

Brunette: I’d like that.

Peter Mills: Alright.

                    Right this way.

Christopher Herrmann: Wow.

Otis Zvonecek: What?

Joe Cruz: So you’re his wingman now?

Otis Zvonecek: Karma.

Hadley: [laughing] He’s sitting there [laughing]…with a napkin on   

              his face sticking his tongue through it, and I’m like,  

              “dude, you are my favourite 12-year-old.”

                                          [laughing]

Capp: Who would do that?

Hadley: What’s up with you?

Kelly Severide: Nothing. All good.

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] [whistles]

Christopher Herrmann: Oh, you and her? 

Otis Zvonecek: Mmhmm.

Christopher Herrmann: No chance.

Otis Zvonecek: Up yours.

Leslie Shay: Hey Corrinne. 

                                             [laughing]

Otis Zvonecek: [exasperated sigh]

Chief Boden: If anybody does anything, okay?

Nicki Rutkowski: You got it.

Chief Boden: Yeah? You sure?

Nicki Rutkowski: I promise.

Chief Boden: Huh, I don’t trust these guys.

                                 [children in the background]

Matt Casey: Mind if we squeeze in?

Gabby Dawson: Hmm…Of course.

Leslie Shay: Hey, guys. Um, this is Corrinne. She just moved here

                     from um... [snaps fingers] 

Corrinne: Alabama.

Matt Casey: Nice to meet you [chuckles]

Leslie Shay: I knew it.

Hallie Thomas: So, I think I saw the result of some of your work 

                          yesterday. 

Gabby Dawson: Ohh.

Dr. Mike: T-The lipstick? And the fingernails? That was you guys?

Leslie Shay: Yeah, well Dawson got her ass squeezed by a drunken 

                      Englishman [giggles]

Dr. Milk: Ooh.

Matt Casey: You gotta quit flirting with your patients.

Gabby Dawson: So we prettied him up a little.

Corrinne: So not something you learn in med school, I take it?

Leslie Shay: We’re paramedics so we don’t go to fancy med 

                      school. 

                      Although…

Hallie Thomas: What? 

Gabby Dawson: Uh, been taking some pre-med classes.

Dr. Mike: Really?

Hallie Thomas: That’s great. 

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, I mean, you know it’s a…it’s a long way off.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, any time you wanna walk a shift with me, say 

                          the word.

Gabby Dawson: That sounds great.

Hallie Thomas: Anytime.

Dr. Mike: Or with me.

Matt Casey: Hey Heather’s here, let’s go say hello.

Darden boys: Hey Matt!

Matt Casey: What’s going on? Good to see you, buddy.

Heather Darden: I just…it’s hard on Ben and Griffin. They’re afraid  

                             the kids are gonna treat ‘em differently.

Matt Casey: Come on, squirt, we’re gonna play some football.

Heather Darden: I’m gonna get a beer. 

                            [Matt murmuring excitedly with the kids]

Kelly Severide: Andy loved being a firefighter. It was our dream 

                           since we were kids.

Heather Darden: He worshipped you. You sure it wasn’t just your 

                             dream?

Nicki Rutkowski: Well, he protects Chicago and serves the beer?

Kelly Severide: For right now, sure.

Nicki Rutkowski: I’m Nicki.

                                          [bottle opening]

Nicki Rutkowski: Thanks. 

Kelly Severide: Yeah.

Nicki Rutkowski: How long you been a firefighter?

Kelly Severide: Since the day I was born.

Nicki Rutkowski: [giggles]

Kelly Severide: Look, I gotta run, Nicki.

                                          [bottles clinking]

Nicki Rutkowski: Cheers.

Gabby Dawson: That was really nice. You’re really nice. 

Matt Casey: [chuckles] 

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Kids are stronger than we think.

Hallie Thomas: Yeah. 

Matt Casey: So what’s up with the new doctor?

Gabby Dawson: Who? Mike? 

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Gabby Dawson: Oh. I don’t know, not much. Just keeping things 

                            simple.

                                               cutscene

                                      [knocking on door]

                      [door opens, tv playing in background]

Nicki Rutkowski: You, um, you left your jacket.

Kelly Severide: Thanks.

                           Mm…Not a good time for this.

Nicki Rutkowski: Do you always do what your chief tells you to do?

Kelly Severide: Trust me, this isn’t because of the chief.

Nicki Rutkowski: Is there somebody else in there?

Kelly Severide: Just the cubs.

Nicki Rutkowski: If you change your mind, you know where to find 

                             me.

                                               [door shuts]

                                                cutscene

Corrinne: Have a good day.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, you too.

Corrinne: Bye.

Leslie Shay: Bye, sweetie.

                                            [kissing sounds]

Leslie Shay: See you.

                      Hi.

Kelly Severide: Morning.

Leslie Shay: Did you eat my yogurt?

Kelly Severide: I didn’t touch your yogurt.

Leslie Shay: Was good seeing Heather yesterday.

Kelly Severide: Yeah, yeah it was.

                                                 cutscene

Chief Boden: So if there is nothing else…

Otis Zvonecek: Chief?

Chief Boden: Yes, Brian?

Otis Zvonecek: I was wondering what the proper protocol would 

                           be for designing a new crest for the truck.

                           It’s just, sir, Engine’s got a camel, which I get, and  

                           Squad has got a badass three-headed dog, which

                           I get, and we have a goat, sir.

Chief Boden: Named after Billy “goat” Bukanski, first chief of  

                       Firehouse 51 and a mentor to me.

Otis Zvonecek: Just forget I said anything [clears throat]

Chief Boden: That it?

Otis Zvonecek: Yes, sir.

Chief Boden: Then y’all do good work out there.

Matt Casey: That true about the crest?

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

                                                  cutscene

Kelly Severide: So if you would, please give me a call back so we  

                          could arrange a time to talk. Thanks.

Capp: You want a smoke break?

Kelly Severide: You mean you wanna bum a cigar off me?

Capp: If you’re offering.

Hadley: If you insist.

Capp: Thank you.

                                                  cutscene

Leslie Shay: How was Mike?

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] You know when you…when you have a 

                            sundae and it’s loaded up with hot fudge, and  

                            whipped cream, and ice cream, and a cherry on 

                            top?

Leslie Shay: Yeah?

Gabby Dawson: He’s the spoon.

Leslie Shay: Hey, can’t eat without a spoon.

Gabby Dawson: [scoffs]

Leslie Shay: What’s the latest with your union file?

Gabby Dawson: Um, I don’t know. I’m ignoring it. Works for 

                            everything else.

                                                   [PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Accident, 501 North Wabash. Truck 81, Ambulance 61, 

                  Squad 3.

Leslie Shay: Can’t ignore this.

                                               [sirens wailing]

                                              [horns honking]

                                   [indistinct chatter over radio]

Man: Watch out!

                             [crashing, glass smashing to ground]

                                                  [yelling]

Matt Casey: Get everyone back and seal it off!

Mouch: Good lord.

Firefighters: Move it back. Back! Back!

                      Stuff’s falling! Move back!

                      Come on, move, move, move. Come on, come on, 

                     back guys.

                                            [car door rattling]

Girl 1: Oh God, Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

Matt Casey: Ma’am?

Kelly Severide: Capp! Hadley! Driver’s side. Start there.

Hadley: Yeah.

Girl 1: My friend. My friend, Cameron! 

Matt Casey: Where is she?

Girl 1: She’s right next to me. I…I can’t see her. Cam!

                                           [jaws buzzing]

Kelly Severide: Get back!

                                            [car smashes]

                                               [screams]

                                           [sirens wailing]

                                          [car door shuts]

Mouch: Passenger trapped, conscious, but we had to pull back  

              because stuff’s still falling.

Capp: That driver’s door is jammed up tight.

Chief Boden: Okay, Capp, Hadley on the k-12, you cut the top  

                        hinge. Severide, you work the jaws from the bottom  

                        edge. The moment that hinge pops, you wedge that  

                        door open. Casey, Mouch, collar the girl, get her on 

                        a board. Let’s go.

                                      [k-12 and jaws sputter]

                                           [buzzing stops]

Matt Casey: Stay forward for me.

                      Uh. Yep. Go. 

                      Grab the end, Mills.

                      Lean up. Lean up [groans]

                      Come down for me.

                      Watch your head.

Chief Boden: Move her out now!

                                            [glass smashing]

                                                [screaming]

Gabby Dawson: You’re okay, sweetie. You’re fine. You’re in good 

                            hands.

Girl 1: I just dropped my phone, so we pulled over and… 

            [whimpers] Please, is Cameron okay? Is she okay? 

Gabby Dawson: I’m not sure, honey. Let’s just concentrate on you 

                            right now, okay?

Patrol Officer 2: Ma’am, please!

Lady 1: My daughter. My daughter was in that car. Is she okay?

Matt Casey: I don’t know. They’re doing what they can.

Lady 1: Her name is Julie.

Matt Casey: I really don’t know.

Lady 1: She has blonde hair.

Matt Casey: She’s okay, she’s right over there.

Lady 1: Julie! That’s my daughter!

Jose Vargas: [sighs] Good thing she didn’t say red hair.

Lady 1: It’s okay.

                                               cutscene

                                           [phone ringing]

Kelly Severide: Hello?

                          Yeah.

                          Yeah, sure. I-If that’s good for you, I’ll be there.

                          Yeah. 

                          Okay.

                                                 cutscene

Matt Casey: Hey.

Hallie Thomas: Hey.

Matt Casey: How was your shift?

Hallie Thomas: What do you always say to me? “Fine. Typical.”

Matt Casey: Uh…I’ve been thinking.

Hallie Thomas: Uh, oh.

Matt Casey: No, nothing like that.

Hallie Thomas: What is it?

Matt Casey: Today, one girl died, and another lived because one  

                      decides to drive and the other gets in the passenger 

                      seat. 

                      I moved out because we spent the last year   

                      constantly debating your career versus my 

                      expectations of a family. 

                      What if we simplify things? Start fresh? Just put it all  

                      aside. Live everyday like it could be the last. 

                      I’m saying I wanna be with you.

                                               [slow music]

                                            [gentle laughter]

                                                cutscene

                                         [background music]

Mouch: Alabama?

Corrinne: Alabama. 

Mouch: Gulf coast. The catfish regatta.

Corrinne: [gasps]

Mouch: Right?

Corrinne: Yes! 

Mouch: Take her.

Corrinne: [giggles]

Gabby Dawson: [indistinct mumbling] He’s, like, wearing this…

                            this…this cape [laughs]

                                                 [laughter]

Gabby Dawson: And he looked like a fool… [indistinct mumbling]

Peter Mills: Yo!

All: Hey!

Peter Mills: What’s up, what’s up!

Joe Cruz: There you go. One, two.

Hallie Thomas: Thank you.

Joe Cruz: Absolutely.

Hallie Thomas: Whoop!

                                        [glass clinking]

Hallie Thomas: Cheers.

All: Cheers.

Joe Cruz: Holy smokes. 

Hallie Thomas: That’s all you got? 

Joe Cruz: Another round for the lady, huh?

                                  [cheering and laughter]

Gabby Dawson: It’s great to see you guys. 

Hallie Thomas: It’s great to be here.

                          You thought about doing rounds with me? 

Gabby Dawson: Uh, a-are you sure it’s not too much trouble?

Hallie Thomas: Are you kidding? I’d love it. You’re already doing 

                          half the procedures we do.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles] That’s doubtful.

Hallie Thomas: Hey, you’re gonna be a great doctor, trust me. You 

                          have more experience than half of these Ivy league 

                          clowns.

Gabby Dawson: [chuckles]

Matt Casey: Hey, this rounds on me.

                                         [collective cheering]

Otis Zvonecek: Put three more on.

Peter Mills: What the hell are you doing?

Otis Zvonecek: What can I say? Uniform thing works.

                                                [laughter]

Lady 2 & 3: Where are the girls though? 

Christopher Herrmann: How does that…

Peter Mills: Damn.

                    Cheers to that.

Otis Zvonecek: Bye, guys.

                                           [indistinct chatter]

Joe Cruz: Hey! Last to arrive! Perfect timing my boys! There we are.

Man: What’s up, gents?

Jose Vargas: Where’s Severide?

                                               cutscene

                                        [knocks on door]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Is the blood off? I don’t want her to see the blood.

Kelly: Yeah. Here. 

           There. You’re good.

Peter: And my hair? I should have got it cut.

Kelly: [chuckles] Your hair…your hair looks fine.

           It looks fine from here. 

Peter: Yeah [heavy breathing]

            Georgie, my love. God, I wish I were better at this.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: Oh my God.

[Video recording…]

Peter: I made a lot of promises to you over the years. Some were  

           harder to keep [panting]. I promised you [gasping]…a house  

           in Provence. I’m sorry we never made it there. You worked   

           so hard on that French, but any promise…that I ever made   

           about you…about how you were…the final piece to my   

           puzzle, those I kept till today. Every day. I know…   

           I know what you’re thinking about Kelly here, ‘cause I   

           thought it too. He’s exactly the son that I pictured for us.     

           And if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have had this chance 

           to say goodbye. Oh my love…

[End of video recording]

Georgie: [sniffles]

[Video recording…]

Peter: Do you remember how I made you promise me that you’d 

           let me die before you? [gasping] Well, thank you, my love.  

           Because I couldn’t live a day in this world without you…

           Georgie.

[End of video recording...]

Georgie: [sniffles]

                Mon amour. 

                Thank you [sobs]

                                              [somber music]

                                                    - end -

Definitions:

ANSUL = sophisticated method of extinguishing fires.

 K-12 = Fire/Rescue saw. It can be used for forcible entry, ventilation, USAR (Urban Search and Rescue – technical rescue operation that involves the location, extrication, and initial medical stabilisation of victims trapped in an urban area, namely structural collapse due to natural disasters, mines and collapsed trenches), RIC (Rapid Intervention Crew - team of two or more firefighters dedicated solely to the search and rescue of other firefighters in distress), and vehicle extrication.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 3/12

I know Tuesday is the day for updating this fic, and I did finish this chapter last night, but I was too tired to go through the long process of posting it. But I’m not THAT late, right?

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it also could mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​

Rating: M

Words: 5k in this chapter

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @welllpthisishappening​ @kmomof4​ @teamhook​ @xhookswenchx​ @bethacaciakay​ @ohmakemeahercules​ @kday426​ @superchocovian​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @shireness-says​ @stahlop​ @scientificapricot​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​ @winterbaby89​ @wellhellotragic​ @branlovestowrite​ @tiganasummertree​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @vvbooklady1256​ @hollyethecurious​ @nikkiemms​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @jennjenn615​ @thislassishooked​ @snidgetsafan​ @let-it-raines​ @ekr032-blog-blog​ @carpedzem​ @profdanglaisstuff​

Chapter Three: Emma and Killian wake up (separately) the morning after their wedding of convenience and face the fallout.

Killian was awakened the next morning by his ringing phone, and when he went to reach for it, he almost fell off the narrow sofa. He almost forgot where he was until the crick in his neck and the light pouring through the glass doors leading to the suite’s balcony reminded him. In his confused state, he neglected to check the contact on the phone screen before he answered.

“Hello?” He blinked and rubbed his hand over his face as he swung his legs to the floor.

“What the bloody hell did you do?”

Liam’s voice was like ice cold water being poured over his head. “Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You got married?”

“How . . . “ Killian stammered, “you mean you know?”

“It’s all over the news, little brother. I woke up this morning and my phone was blowing up with texts. No one even knew you were in a relationship! What the hell is going on?”

Killian’s hand drifted from his jaw to his ear and back again as he rose and began to pace. “Well, you see, with Emma being a public figure and all, we just wanted to keep our relationship secret. And with her line of work, we knew whoever she dated, much less married, would be under a lot of scrutiny. I mean, our relationship would have been picked apart, so -”

“So you lied to me?”

Killian almost dropped the phone. The lies were only just beginning. “Um, more like, I withheld information.”

“Vital information!” Liam’s volume was climbing, and Killian pulled the phone farther away from his ear. “Elsa is pissed, and Anna literally cried because she missed the wedding. How could you do this to us - again? I thought I’d be your best man this time.”

Killian groaned as he heard the hurt clearly in his brother’s voice. “I’m sorry, truly I am. Emma and I are planning on doing a second, smaller ceremony for my friends and family.”

“So this was a publicity stunt. To promote her and her career.”

Great. Liam was pissed at Emma and they hadn’t even met. “A career which I support wholeheartedly. I didn’t even really care how we got married just so long as we did. I love her.”

It was the first truthful thing Killian had said since he answered the phone.

*****************************************************

Killian had the television on while he simultaneously scrolled through social media on his phone. Liam hadn’t been exaggerating: the media was buzzing about Emma Swan - the one single women around the globe turned to for relationship advice - getting married. People magazine apparently had the exclusive rights to the photographs, which would be published in their next issue, but Emma’s press agent had officially released one photograph and it was literally everywhere. It was of their first dance, when Killian had gotten Emma to laugh. He hoped she was at least smiling in the rest that would appear in People. His heart would break if her shock, pain, and betrayal were on display for the world to see. He’d deal with the media, his brother, his sisters in law and their emotions - all of it - to keep that from happening.

“Seriously? Already?”

He turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. She was standing there wrapped up in the resort bathrobe, a fluffy towel circling her head. He hadn���t even heard her stir in the other room. He fumbled for the remote and muted it.

“Um, aye, your wedding is big news apparently - I mean, our wedding.” He gave her a nervous smile and scratched behind his ear.

Emma moaned, collapsed onto the chair across from him, and covered her face with both hands. “I invited the media,” she mumbled before pulling her hands away with a sigh, “so I don’t know why I’m irritated. I guess I just didn’t expect all this attention so soon.”

Killian quirked a brow and waved his phone at her. “Well Swan, according to Instagram you’re #relationshipgoals to all of your followers.”

Emma grimaced, and he knew it was a bad joke. “Yeah, what goals? To get jilted at the altar and marry your carpenter instead?”

Killian shrugged. “It was a damn good arbor I made though, right?”

Emma managed to laugh. “It really was, Jones.”

A silence fell between them. Killian turned off the television and set his phone aside. He knew she didn’t need any of it right now. Emma untwisted the towel from her head and ran her fingers through her wet hair. The picture she made: her hair tumbling wild, her long legs peeking where the robe had fallen open, the top gaping and giving him a peek of her cleavage was all too much. He wished for a robe himself as his boxer briefs tightened. He snatched the blanket from the couch and held it around his waist as casually as he could as he stood and made his way to the bedroom.

“I think I’ll just, um . . . use the shower now myself,” he told her.

“Sure,” she replied, and when she smiled at him, he could swear he saw a twinkle in her eyes.

Emma had used up a lot of the hot water, but the cold shower was what he needed anyway. He lingered just long enough to wash away the sweat from the last twenty four hours and calm himself down. When he exited, he was relieved to see that his bags were lined up against Emma’s in the bedroom. The bellhop must have put them there the night before. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple grey tee from his bag. He had just slipped the shirt over his head when he heard a knock at the door and a voice call out “room service!”

Emma beat him to the door, and when Killian stepped out of the bedroom, she was ushering in a man pushing a tray that held their breakfast. Emma was still wearing the robe, and Killian didn’t miss the appreciative look the man gave her as he told her to enjoy her breakfast. Killian cleared his throat pointedly.

“Yes, we certainly will.”

The man had the decency to blush. “Um, yes, Mr. Jones. Enjoy your breakfast.”

Emma laughed after the man had shut the door behind him.

“What?”

“Jealous, Mr. Jones?”

Killian huffed. “Well, did you notice the way he was looking at you?”

Emma shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I’m wearing nothing but a bathrobe.”

“But you’re married!”

Emma’s eyes widened. “But we’re not actually a couple.”

“He doesn’t know that,” Killian grumbled.

Emma laughed again as she lifted the cover on one of the plates of food. Her laughter cut off sharply, however, and her hand froze in midair. “Are you kidding me?”

Killian rushed to her side, wondering what could be wrong with their breakfast, but then he saw it: the local newspaper tucked between the trays. The headline practically screamed: Emma Swan and New Husband Honeymoon on the Cape. Below it was the same official wedding photograph everyone else was posting along with a paparazzi shot of the two of them arriving last night in the limo. Emma banged the cover back onto the plate with a grunt of irritation.

“Everyone promised they would be discreet! The limo driver, the hotel manager . . . “ she trailed off with a scowl on her face.

“I’m sure they were, love. Anyone could have tipped off a reporter: a bellhop, a maid . . . “

Emma paced the room. “This means that any time we go out, there could be reporters.”

“Well,” Killian quipped, struggling to keep the shit eating grin off his face and failing spectacularly, “don’t most newlyweds stay in the majority of the time? Doing more enjoyable activities rather than sightseeing?”

Emma rolled her eyes, but a faint blush colored her cheeks. “I’m not going to hide.”

“In that case,” Killian replied, pulling the cover off a plate of eggs benedict and bacon, “I’m going to enjoy the view with my breakfast.”

He carried the plate, some silverware, and a tumbler of orange juice out onto the balcony. He breathed in the salty sea air and let the breeze wash over him.

“Relaxed?” Emma asked sarcastically. Killian turned to see her leaning against the open sliding glass door with her arms cross.

“Aye,” he answered, taking a bite of the eggs benedict and moaning. He was exaggerating slightly to get a rise out of Emma, but they were delicious. “By the way, love, if paparazzi are around, you may not want to lounge about our balcony in naught but your bathrobe.”

Emma blushed as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Do you always talk like a character in a Jane Austen novel?”

He laughed as Emma scurried to get dressed.

******************************************

Emma leaned over the bathroom sink to sweep some blush across her cheeks. She didn’t want to waste too much time primping; those eggs benedict looked amazing, and she didn’t want them to get cold. Yet Killian was right - a picture could be snapped anywhere, and she didn’t want to look pale and depressed She tossed aside her makeup brush, ran her fingers through her hair, and rushed back out to grab her breakfast. Before she could lift the cover on the second breakfast tray, her phone started to ring. She was so hungry, she almost ignored it, but at the last minute, she snatched it up. With the media all over her wedding, anything could go wrong.

Walsh.

Panic flooded through Emma at his name on her cell phone screen, and her hand trembled as she took the call.

“You married someone else?”

Emma clenched her teeth. “Why good morning to you too, Walsh. How is your day?”

“Don’t play coy with me, Emma. We break up, and the next morning I wake up to find your wedding day splashed all over the news?”

“You didn’t just break up with me, Walsh! You cheated on me! And you waited until our wedding day to tell me!”

“And that wedding was never anything more than a stunt for your career. I didn’t even have any say in it.”

“Oh really? So you didn’t get down on one knee and propose? I just imagined that?”

Walsh let out a long breath. “That was eight months ago. A lot has changed since then.”

“I’ll say,” Emma grumbled.

“Don’t put this all on me. I was always your dirty little secret. I couldn’t even tell anyone I was your boyfriend much less your fiance.”

“How dare you!” Emma’s voice had risen, but she didn’t care. “That was you, Walsh! You said you didn’t like that I had a blog or such a huge social media following. You said it made you nervous. You said people would violate your privacy and try to dig up dirt on our relationship. So we kept it secret - because it’s what you wanted. I was your dirty little secret, not the other way around.”

A sleepy, feminine voice came distantly through the phone. “Walsh? Who are you talking to? Come back to bed.”

Emma felt sick. She knew that voice.

“Zelena West? You cheated on me with that bitch?”

“Hey, don’t call her that,” Walsh snapped.

Emma rolled her eyes. Zelena West had overtly flirted with Walsh at every social function back in New York, yet Walsh had insisted constantly that the Broadway starlet was just his client, nothing more. Even worse, Zelena went out of her way to undermine Emma on social media, posting snarky tweets and YouTube videos contradicting Emma’s advice. As if a Broadway actress who slept her way into every role she ever had was qualified to give relationship advice. In Emma’s opinion, Zelena’s dating advice boiled down to “make your man happy with a fake ‘you’ and lots of sex.” Advice that basically took women backward about six decades.

“Is everything okay?”

Emma whirled to see Killian in the doorway to the balcony, his forehead creased with worry. On the other end of the line, Walsh laughed sardonically.

“Sounds like you’re one to talk. You’re on our honeymoon with - what did TMZ call him? Swan’s sexy catch?” Walsh laughed again. “I always wondered why that wedding arbor meant so much to you.”

“You don’t get to judge me!”

“The point is,” Walsh said, his voice turning serious, “we drifted apart as soon as you moved to Storybrooke. I’m a New Yorker through and through, Emma. That kind of life never would have been enough for me.’

Emma sank to the couch and was surprised when Killian sat down next to her and laid a hand comfortingly on her knee. “The thing is, Walsh, you should have told me all of this six months ago. I didn’t deserve what you did to me. I didn’t deserve your cheating or your lying.”

“Who’s lying now?”

The edge to his voice sent a chill down Emma’s spine and she glanced at Killian with a worried expression. He frowned and put an arm around her. Before this phone call, she would have pushed him away, but right now she appreciated the support.

“Are you threatening me, Walsh?”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ruin your facade of a marriage. Lord knows I don’t want my name dragged through the mud when it all blows up in your face.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“The truth will come out eventually, Emma, and when it does, your career will be over.”

“Sounds like a threat to me.”

“It isn’t, I promise you. I love Zelena, and I just want a clean break so I can give what I have with her a chance.”

“A clean break? That’s what leaving me on our wedding day is to you?”

“I can admit that my timing was bad, but you promise you won’t interfere with my relationship with Zelena?”

Emma rubbed her forehead wearily. “I don’t give a shit what you do with Zelena. Just stay out of my life. Don’t call me again.”

She hung up without waiting for a reply and tossed her phone down angrily on the sofa. Killian rubbed at her shoulder hesitantly.

“Anything I can do?”

Emma shook her head. “No.” Then she squared her shoulders and rose from the couch. “We have five days here in the Cape, and I intend to enjoy it.”

Killian smiled up at her. “That’s the spirit. How does the beach sound?”

“It sounds great,” she told him, struggling to put a brave smile on her face. Then she went back to the cart that held their breakfast. “But first - I’m starving!”

************************************************

Killian was glad that his swim trunks were roomier than his boxer briefs because Emma Swan made quite the picture lounging in a crimson string bikini. She’d been sunbathing for awhile on her back, and he’d thought that was a tantalizing picture, but his view now was just as delectable. She’d flipped over onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows to read a book. Her bikini bottoms hugged her ass just as well as the top hugged her breasts. It made his mouth dry thinking of how much he’d like to . . . he took a swig from a bottle of water then pressed the cool plastic to his forehead.

“Grab me one?” Emma asked, rolling onto her side and slipping a bookmark into her novel.

Killian pulled one out of the cooler provided by the resort. A wicker basket contained the remains of their lunch - sandwiches, grapes, slices of cheese, and gourmet pretzels. The honeymoon package at this resort was four star, and far nicer than anything Killian had experienced before. Yet Emma wasn’t pretentious in the least. He had learned enough about her over the past few months to know at least that much. She’d moved her life and her practice to Storybrooke because she wanted to really help people, not just cater to the elite in New York. Her therapy fees were a bargain, especially considering her level of education. She lived simply, and he wondered if it was a sacrifice so she could help more clients or just the way Emma Swan rolled. He looked forward to finding out.

He couldn’t really read Emma’s expression behind her sunglasses as she took the water from him, but he saw her lips curl up in a tiny smile. “What’s on your mind, Jones?”

He shook his head. “What?”

“If you stare at me any harder, you’re going to burn a whole in my head.”

He chuckled nervously. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

She took a sip of water. “About what?”

“You.”

“Oh,” Emma said softly.

“I mean, if we’re going to be husband and wife for eight months to a year, we should at least get to know each other.”

Emma was quiet a beat longer than he was comfortable with, but she finally gave a firm nod. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“Of course, we can start with me.” He reached into the basket for a handful of grapes and popped one into his mouth. “So shoot. Ask me anything.”

Emma arched a brow. “Anything?”

“Aye. I’m an open book.” Just don’t ask me how I feel about you. The grape almost stuck in his throat going down. Why was he agreeing to this?

“Okay, then,” Emma took a deep breath, “can you tell me about your first wife? I mean, just what you’re comfortable sharing.”

She was afraid she’d overstepped as Killian fell silent, rolling a grape between two fingers, his gaze distant. Then he popped the grape in his mouth, chewed, swallowed, then began to speak in a low voice.

“Her name was Milah. I was a senior at Bowdoin -”

“Whoa, whoa, wait,” Emma interrupted waving her hand around, “Bowdoin?”

Killian chuckled. “Didn’t expect a carpenter to be a college grad, did you?”

“Yes, I mean no, it’s just,” Emma blew a strand of hair off her forehead in frustration. “That came out wrong. Lots of small business owners have a degree, it’s just . . . Bowdoin?”

Killian nodded with a smug grin.

“Business major?”

“Double major in music and visual arts.”

Emma whistled. “Wow. No wonder your work is so beautiful.”

He scratched behind his ear, a tell Emma had already come to learn meant he was nervous or uncomfortable. “Thank you, Swan.”

“Bowdoin,” she repeated with a shake of her head.

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s expensive. I had scholarships. Two of them - one for art and one for music. It added up to a full ride, but I almost didn’t go.”

“What!”

Killian smiled wistfully. “Believe me, I know. I was young and impetuous. Thought I’d go into the navy, actually, but Liam talked sense into me.”

“He’s your brother?”

“Aye.”

They fell silent again, and Emma wondered if he’d change the subject, if all she’d get was a name and that he’d been a senior at Bowdoin when he met her.

“She was a professor, and she was already married” he finally said, glancing at her sideways as if expecting her reaction to be negative. Little did he know the stuff she’d heard as a psychiatrist. She doubted anything could shock her anymore. When all she did was nod, he continued. “Her husband was controlling, verbally abusive, and much older than her. He was wealthy, and she’d let herself get caught up in the trappings of his life. I think my youth, my freedom, were what appealed to her in the beginning. But over time, I don’t think anyone ever understood me the way she did. We were married at the justice of the peace a week after I graduated, only a month after her divorce was final. It was quite the scandal.”

Killian winked at her, but she got the feeling it was a deflection. She looked down at the beach blanket she was lying on and traced the pattern with her finger.

“What was she like?”

“Brilliant,” he sighed, “and vivacious. She didn’t take shit from anyone. Her husband must have been a right bastard to keep her under his thumb for so long.”

He hadn’t said a word about her looks, which surprised Emma. In her experience, it was the first thing men usually thought of when someone asked them to describe a woman.

“What was she professor of?”

“Music theory. She was quite the composer. The piano was her instrument, and she also had a beautiful voice.”

“What do you play?” Emma scooted closer. She had never imagined him as musical, just as a sweaty man flexing his muscles in that shop of his.

He smiled at her. “The guitar, but I haven’t played much since . . .”

Emma frowned. “Since she passed?”

Killian nodded. Emma scrambled up to sit cross legged on the beach blanket. The mood had gotten heavy, and she suddenly needed to lighten it. She still didn’t know how MIlah died, but perhaps now wasn’t the time. She grinned at Killian and poked him in the leg.

“Okay, Jones. Your turn to ask a question.”

He rubbed at his chin as he regarded her intensely, and Emma had to force herself not to squirm under his gaze. When he finally chose his question, it took her completely by surprise.

“I told you I haven’t read your book, and despite our cover story, I’ve never followed you online either. So tell me, Swan. What exactly is your philosophy on romance?”

Relief and eagerness simultaneously coursed through her. On the one hand, she was relieved that it was a professional question rather than a personal one. On the other, she always got excited talking about her ideas regarding relationships.

“Well, first of all, it’s not about romance, it’s about building solid relationships.”

“You don’t believe in romance?”

Emma shrugged. “There’s obvious biochemical reactions when we are attracted to someone.”

Killian leaned close. “I said romance, not attraction, love.”

Emma glared at him over the rim of her sunglasses as she shoved him playfully in the shoulder. “Okay, smart ass, but what I’m saying is that women in particular can get caught up in what you call romance and miss the reality of who the person they are dating actually is. Men are experts at playing on a woman’s emotions as well in order to get what they want. So step one is for a woman to watch out for those tricks, to understand the games men play so they won’t be duped.”

This was usually the part where men got defensive and started arguing with her, but Killian didn’t.

“What’s step two?”

“Well, step two is the compatibility quotient.”

“Ah, I see, like those algorithms dating sites use.”

Emma shook her head. “No. Those are questions to measure personality compatibility. I help women figure out what they want in a partner. Everything from their professional goals to family goals, even whether they are more an urbanite or suburbanite or like to live way out in the country.”

“Let me guess. There’s a chart.”

Emma huffed. “Are you making fun of me?”

Killian lifted both hands in surrender. “Not at all, Swan. Just a simple question.”

“Yes,” she admitted, “there’s a chart. And I always recommend that women review what it is they want both before and after each date. If the man they’re seeing doesn’t fit, even if it’s only the first date, they end it. Of course, there’s always the red flags to look for too.”

Killian nodded, and you could have knocked her over with a feather at the way he was mulling over her words. Most men were pissed at her by now. Even Walsh had been before she explained how he perfectly fit everything she had been looking for.

Or so she had thought.

“Red flags are definitely important. Milah said there were several before she married Robert, but she’d been blinded by their whirlwind romance.”

“Not rushing into things, that’s important too.”

“Chapter?” Killian asked with a grin.

Emma grinned back. “Chapter four - Seriously Ladies, What’s the Rush?”

“What’s the rush as in my groom just left me and I need a replacement in six hours rush?”

Emma groaned, even though a laugh bubbled out of her unbidden. “I don’t think I covered this scenario in my book.”

“Well, Swan, maybe this will be fodder for your third book.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said that, and Emma sensed a tone of self-deprecation in his words even though it was worded as a joke.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“About your third book?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “No, about my theories.”

Killian was silent for a long time. He spread out on his side and propped himself up on his elbows so he was looking right up into her eyes.

“I think it’s all rather clinical, to be honest. I don’t know that love can be boiled down to compatibility or goals in life. I think love is messy and always a risk. It upends your life so that it’s never the same.”

Emma usually got angry when men argued with her about her life’s work, but something about Killian’s voice softened his words.

“I agree, and that’s just it. Women have to protect themselves from allowing their lives to be upended by the wrong person.”

Emma’s face burned as she realized what she was saying. Obviously, her life had been upended by the wrong person. How could she have missed the signs?

“Milah would have liked you, Emma.”

Her eyes widened at Killian’s words and the soft smile upon his face. He could call her out; point out the very obvious failure she had been at her own relationship, but he didn’t. Another long, silent moment passed between them before Emma cleared her throat and started rummaging through the drawstring bag she’d brought along. She pulled out a bottle of sunscreen and started rubbing it into her skin. She had a tendency to burn, and she wasn’t about to spend the rest of their trip miserable and slathered in aloe vera.

Killian sat up and drew closer, reaching around her for the sunscreen and lowering his lips to her ear. “Don’t look, but farther down the beach, behind that sand dune is a man with a camera. He doesn’t look like a tourist, and the camera’s trained on us, not the water.”

Emma froze. “What do we do?”

“Give him what he wants,” Killian answered. “A woman in love would ask the man in her life to do her back, right?”

Emma could only nod as she gathered her hair off her neck. Killian sat behind her and squirted sunscreen into his palm. The sunscreen was cold at first against her skin, but then the warmth of his hands had her muscles relaxing. His fingers were calloused, his touch firm yet gentle. She bit her lower lip as he worked the lotion into her shoulder, her neck, then her upper back. He slid his fingers beneath the straps of her bikini so he wouldn’t miss a spot, then massaged down her lower back, his thumb trailing along the waistband of her bikini bottoms. She hoped he didn’t feel the shiver that coursed through her.

“Lie down.”

His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and she almost leaned back against him with a sigh before his words registered with her brain.

“Excuse me?”

“Lie down. I’ll get the backs of your legs.”

Emma managed to nod and did as he asked, propping her chin on her crossed arms. He massaged the lotion into her thighs and then her calves with such delicious circles of his thumbs that she almost let out a moan.

“Done,” he told her in a husky voice.

Emma rolled over to find herself caged between his arms. “Thank you,” she managed to choke out, yet he didn’t move.

“Newlyweds would kiss right now, don’t you think?”

“Why? Is he still taking pictures?”

Killian leaned in closer and gently removed her sunglasses. “Probably.”

“Then I guess we should.”

“Should what?” his lips were so close now, she could hardly breathe.

“Kiss,” she breathed.

“Right,” his lips brushed hers, then he pressed them against hers firmly. She kissed him back, opening for him immediately. Her arms encircled his neck, bringing him down to her. He could have taken advantage of the situation, pressing his body to hers, exploring her barely clothed figure with his hands, but he didn’t. He rested on his side, slipping one hand beneath her head and caressing her upper arm with his other. When he pulled away, he stayed close, their breaths still mingling.

“That was pretty good acting,” she told him with a shaky voice.

“Right,” he said, rolling onto his back and flinging an arm over his eyes, “acting.”

Now Emma rolled over, caging him between her arms instead. “Hey,” she teased him, “I think we’ve put on a pretty convincing show. Now how about we get out into that water?”

Killian pulled his arm away from his face and squinted in the sun. “Race you to the water?”

“You’re on!”

Emma thought she had the advantage, considering their positions, until Killian grabbed her around the waist. She yelped as he deposited her right on her rear. He then took off for the water line as she scrambled to her feet. She could scarcely breathe, she was laughing so hard.

Not the way she’d imagined this honeymoon twenty four hours ago, that was for sure. She’d expected to be holed up in her room watching rom coms and binge eating ice cream. Instead she was laughing on the beach with Killian Jones who just happened to be a damn good kisser.

[dancerlittle006]

School Days

First things first, I don’t own anything related to Disney or Newsies. Second of all, this is a continuation of my “The Many Adventures of Sammi & Race” series. You may want to read the others in the series but it’s not necessary!  As always, feedback is always appreciated and loved!!!

September 1907

For the last several weeks, Katherine and Jack had talked about how exciting Sammi starting school was going to be. They were trying to hype the girl up but she was nervous. It also didn’t help that they had just welcomed another baby, Elizabeth Marie Kelly into the family and Sammi was very protective of her younger sister. Kat had suggested they get Race and Spot involved but Jack wasn’t ready to engage his brother and brother-in-law just yet.   

“But momma.” She stomped her foot. “Why doesn’t Tommy or Lizzie hafta go?” 

Kat smiled at her daughter. “They’re too young, Sammi. Besides, you’re a big girl and you can tell them how wonderful school will be when it’s their time to go.” 

“But I don’t want to go!” Sammi stomped her foot, just as the phone rang. Katherine took a break from arguing with her daughter to answer it. 

“Hi Race. No you’re not interrupting anything.” She said into the receiver. 

Sammi tuned her mother’s voice out, opting to play with her doll. She heard her mother hang up the phone before looking over her shoulder. “What’s wrong, momma?” 

“Benny isn’t feeling well and Uncle Race was calling about him.” Kat looked at Sammi. “How about we go visit them?” 

She rushed to get her shoes on while Kat put shoes on Tommy and bundled Lizzie up and placed her in the pram. They made their way down the street, heading towards Race and Spot’s brownstone. They soon arrived, Sammi running up the stairs to knock on the door while Tommy lumbered behind his older sister slowly. Katherine smiled at him picking up Lizzie and walking up the stairs just as the front door opened. “Thank God you’re here.” 

Her and the children rushed in behind him, shutting the door before they made their way through the house. Kat could hear Benny crying in his room. “Can I put Lizzie down in the bassinet?” 

Race nodded, ducking down the hallway to Benny’s room. Katherine laid the baby down before looking at Tommy, Sammi, and Ellie. “How about you three play while da and I look after Benny?” 

The kids nodded, loving the impromptu playdate. Katherine made sure they were all set before ducking down the hallway to the little boy’s room. He wasn’t crying as hard as when she first arrived, but was cuddled against Race’s shoulder. “How’s it going?” 

“He’s calmed for now.” Race sighed. “He was fine this morning but now, he’s just miserable, and wants to be held all the time.” 

Holding out her hands for the boy, she smiled as he reached for her. “What’s going on Benny Boo?” 

He whined, burying his head in her shoulder. “He feels warm to me. Have you tried giving him a bath?” 

“No .. . was I supposed to?” Race asked. Despite being a parent for over a year, he was still learning so much about the children. 

Kat chuckled, swaying side to side. “You’re not supposed to do any one particular thing but it may help bring the fever down, if he has one. It might help him feel better. Make the water lukewarm - not too hot.” 

Race nodded. He went to start a bath while Kat undressed the still whining baby. She sushed him and cooed at him before picking him back up, walking to the bathroom. Handing him over to his da, Race gently took off his diaper before putting him in the tub, heart tugging as Benny whined. 

“How did yous get so good at being a mom?” Race asked, as Benny relaxed in the tub. “How do you know what to do?” 

Kat leaned against the doorway, watching Race and Benny. “Well, I’m on my third child. I called my mother so many times during that first year with Sammi. She joked that she might as well move in which Jack quickly put his foot down about. But you learn and you figure things out.” 

Race nodded, taking a sponge and dragging water across Benny’s body, the boy giggling slightly. “Look at how much you’ve learned in the year since you adopted Ellie and Benny. Think of the things that you couldn’t do a year ago but now can do with your eyes closed.” 

Race chuckled, thinking about the first few weeks and months with the 3 year old and the baby. Bottle making, sleepless nights, times all four of them were crying. “You’re right. And Is sure we’ll continue to learn.” 

“You will.” Kat smiled, holding out a towel for Race to put Benny in. “Now I need your help.” 

Race transferred the wet baby to Kat’s awaiting arms before cleaning up the mess. “Anything, name your wish.” 

“I need you to talk with Sammi about school.” Kat sighed, laying the baby on the floor and putting a fresh diaper on him before picking him up once more before he could fuss. “She is adamant she doesn’t want to go.” 

Race smiled, walking towards Benny’s room, Kat trailing behind him. “Of course, absolutely. I thought she was excited to go.” 

“She was excited but since Lizzie was born, she doesn’t want to leave her sister behind. She keeps making up excuses.” Kat sighed. “Jack keeps telling me that she’ll get excited as it gets closer but we’re a week out and she doesn’t even want to talk about it.” 

He nodded, giving his sister a side hug. “I’ll talk to her in a little bit. Let’s get this little man taken care of. If you’ll give him a bottle, Is talk with Sammi.” 

She nodded, dressing him in a sleeper as Race went and made a bottle before returning, handing it over to Kat with a grin. He watched them for a minute before walking into the living room. Tommy, Sammi and Ellie all played with the trucks, blocks, and dolls scattered around them. “Sammi, can Is talk to you for a minute?”

She glanced at her uncle before walking over to where he sat on the couch. She climbed up and leaned against him. “Hi Uncle Race. Is Benny okay?” 

“He will be. Your mom is feeding him a bottle right now.” Race pulled Sammi onto his lap. “Are you ready for school?” 

Sammi laid her head on his shoulder, shaking her head. “Is not going to school. Is staying with mom, Tom, and Lizzie.” 

“But yous have to go to school. Yous don’t want mom and dad to go to jail, do you?” Race’s eyes went wide as the little girl giggled. 

Sammi giggled at how silly her uncle was. “Theys not gonna go to jail.” 

“Theys might if you don’t go to school.” Race chuckled. “Yous gonna have so much fun and Miss Hill is going to be a wonderful teacher and yous gonna learn so much. Yous might be smarter than your momma one day.” 

Sammi’s eyes went wide at her uncle’s statement. “Is not smarter than momma.” 

“Not now yous aren’t but one day yous might be.” He nodded, leaning close to his niece. “Besides, for someone who didn’t go to school, you can tell me all about it and maybe Is can learn with you.” 

She nodded, giving him a grin. “Okays, Is go to school.” 

Katherine came out of the hallway hearing her daughter’s proclamation with a grin. “You’re going to school, Samantha Anne?” 

“Yes momma! Uncle Race told me Is havta.” Sammi grinned at her mother as Katherine sat beside her. 

Kat shot Race an appreciative grin before looking at her daughter. “I’m so happy to hear that. You’re going to have a great time in school.” 

“Can I go play now?” Sammi asked, looking between her mother and uncle. 

Rave nodded, watching the little girl jump off the couch to go play with her cousin and brother.  Kat looked at Race with a grin. “Thank you for whatever you said to her. I love you and appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.” 

“Is told her that she’d be smarter than yous one day.” Race shrugged. “It seemed to work - she warmed up to the idea of school pretty quickly after that.” 

She clapped quietly. “Well I appreciate it regardless of what you said. And I hope she is smarter than me one day.” 

The front door opened and shut with a quiet bang as Spot walked in with a grin. “Kat! This is a surprise.” 

“When your husband calls up frantically due to your son being sick, a visit is a must.” Kat gave her friend a grin. “Benny’s sleeping and has a slight fever.” 

Spot gave Race a look before kissing him. “Calling up Kat when our son is sick?” 

“It was in a moment of panic and I didn’t know what to do. He was crying and Ellie was tugging at me.” He kissed Spot once more, dropping his voice to a whisper. “I really had her come over so Ellie would have someone to play with.” 

Katherine scoffed, shaking her head at the two of them. “You two are ridiculous.” 

“But you love us regardless of that.” Spot grinned, looking over at the three kids playing. 

Race raised an eyebrow. “I actually solved a problem of hers.” He said blowing on his nails, polishing them against his shirt. “Sammi has been in a state of denial about attending school and Uncle Race to the rescue and now she’s all excited.” 

Spot shook his head at his husband. “Of course all it took is one conversation with Uncle Race and suddenly it’s okay.” Giving Kat a look, “Haven’t you learned that trick yet?” 

“Yea, yea she loves you two more than she loves me and Jack.” Kat rolled her eyes at her daughter’s love of her uncles, actually all of her children’s love of their uncles. 

A Week Later

Flanked by her parents and Uncle Race, Sammi skipped on her way to school. She was giggling as Jack skipping alongside her. Kat and Race were walking arm in arm, shaking their heads at the two’s antics. 

Stopping in front of the school, Jack picked up Sammi, both of them looking at the big building in front of them. “Yous doing okay, Sammi?” 

“Uh huh.” She put her hand to her lip, eyes big at the building. “Its big, daddy.” 

“It is but you’re going to have a great day and learn lots.” Jack whispered as Kat and Race caught up to them. “Yous ready to go in?” 

She shrugged, looking over her shoulder at Race. “Yous come too?” 

“You think Is walked all this way and not comin’ in with you, Sammi?” Race grinned. “Yous crazy, silly girl. Let’s go.” 

They walked into the building, following other parents for the first day. They quickly found Miss Hill’s classroom before Jack put Sammi down. She clutched his hand as they walked into the classroom. The classroom was loud with kids playing and parents talking to one another. Race dropped to his knee and looked at Sammi. “This room looks like it’s so much fun. You’re going to have a great day here.” 

Kat and Jack both looked around the room, picking out Sammi’s teacher who was talking to another parent. “Shall we look for your desk, Sammi?” 

She held her hand out for Kat and Jack to take before walking deeper into the classroom. They looked at the clusters of desks before Jack pointed towards a cluster in the back corner. “I think I see a Samantha Kelly desk over there.” 

They made their way over to the desk, Sammi lighting up when she recognized her name taped to the desk. “Look momma!” 

“I see baby. It says Samantha.” Kat crouched down, grinning at Sammi. 

Jack joined his wife crouching down, dropping his voice to a whisper. “It looks like the BEST desk in the room to me.” 

Sammi giggled, just as Miss Hill came over to greet Sammi. “Hi Samantha, I’m so excited to have you in my class this year. Who did you bring with you today?” 

“Hi Miss Hill.” Sammi smiled brightly. “This is my momma, daddy, and Uncle Race.” 

Miss Hill looked at the three adults with a smile. “It’s very nice to meet you. We’ll be beginning class in a few minutes. Sammi, say your goodbyes and sit down at your desk when you’re ready.” 

Miss Hill left them alone as Sammi looked at the ground. “Do yous have to go?” 

“Afraid so, darlin’.” Kat smiled. “But you’re going to have so much fun and we’ll meet you outside after school, okay?” 

Sammi nodded, shuffling over to give Kat a hug before looking at her dad. “I love yous daddy.” 

“I love you too Samantha Anne.” Jack kissed her forehead. “Yous gonna do great things, darlin’. Have a great day of school and I’ll see you later.” 

She nodded, walking over to Uncle Race. “Yous be here after school?” 

“Yes, I will Sammi. I love you girlie. Have a great day at school and Is can’t wait to hear alls about it.” Race kissed her forehead, standing up and waving goodbye before he followed Kat and Jack out of the classroom. 

The three stood by the doorway as Sammi took her seat. She peaked up when another girl sat beside her, the two girls quickly talking to one another. Kat looked at the two men beside her with a grin. “Your girl will be just fine. It looks like she’s made a friend already. Let’s go before she sees us.” 

“But what if she . . .” Jack and Race both started, before Kat took their hands and led them from the doorway. 

Shaking her head, Kat grinned. “She will be fine. She’s a Kelly and with as much confidence and sass as that girl has, she’ll be just fine.” 

Walking out of the school, Kat sighed listening to Jack and Race come up with excuses on why they should hang around the school, “just in case” Sammi needed them. “Mark my words, Higgins and Kelly, she will be just fine and she’ll be even more excited about going back tomorrow.” 

3:00pm

The three had parted ways earlier that morning, Kat and Jack headed to The World while Race headed to the hotel to work his shift. They had gathered in front of the school, chatting quietly while they waited for the bell to ring.  It rang before children streamed out of every available door. “Do you see her yet?” 

Kat looked at Jack before shaking her head. Race grinned, pointing her out. “There she is.” 

Sammi raced over to where they sat, flying into Jack’s arms with a grin. “How was your day?” 

“IT WAS AMAZING!” She yelled, jumping up and down with a grin. “Is learned my ABCs!” 

Kat and Race fussed over Sammi with a grin while Jack hugged her close. “I’m so glad you had a great day, Sammi.” 

“Shall we go celebrate?” Kat asked, giving the three of them a big smile. “I think I hear the newly done schoolgirl loves ice cream?” 

Sammi’s eyes widened as she nodded her head. “Is LOVE ice cream.” 

“Shall we go get some?” Jack asked, picking her up in his arms before lacing his fingers with Kat. “Yous in Uncle Race?” 

Race grinned, nodding. “Of course, I am. Let’s go!” 

The four of them set off down the street, heading towards Jacobi’s for celebratory ice cream for Sammi’s first day of school. 

What did you think? Feedback and comments are always welcomed! 

[alexhogh7137]

Rule The World with Me-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Thirty-Three is here...

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Shield Maiden

Word Count 1,479

Warnings: none to write down..

_____________________________________

3 Weeks Later…

Ubbe and Torvi are coming to visit Baldur today and you cannot be more excited. You have been cleaning your home all morning long, making Ivar laugh at your efforts to impress his brother and sister-in-law.

"Don't laugh, I want to make it nice." 

Ivar "I am not laughing in a mean way, my love. It is just so adorable to see you like this."

"Like what exactly?"

Ivar "All excited and happy but frantic all at once. I find it adorable." You can't help but melt at his response. 

"Thank you my love. They'll be here soon, yes?"

Ivar "Yes, I'll go change Baldur before they get here." You nod and get back to cleaning. Having a baby makes things a lot messier than what they used to be but you can't complain, Baldur is an absolute blessing and he is your entire world.

Hvitserk walks in from his chambers, his hair dampened from his shower and his braids are sloppy from doing them quickly. You try not to laugh but it comes out just a small bit. He bends down to you and smirks.

Hvitserk "What are you laughing at, huh?"

"Oh nothing! Just your braids.."

Hvitserk "What is wrong with my hair?"

"It's just a little sloppy, it's cute though!" He laughs and starts to undo them.

Hvitserk "Then will you help me please?" You agree and braid his long blonde hair with ease. You swear to yourself that you are the queen of braiding hair. 

"All done, brother."

Hvitserk "Thank you Y/n, you're too kind." 

"No, just the right amount of kind. And I love you, if you were a stranger I wouldn't have done it." 

Hvitserk "Fair enough, and I love you too."

__________________________________

The whole time Ubbe and Torvi are here, Ubbe seems very off. He can't sit still and he can't stop fidgeting. He smiles but then it quickly fades, like something is on his mind that is eating at him. Ivar notices as well and looks at Hvitserk for confirmation which he gets. 

Ivar "What is it with you today brother, huh?"

Ubbe "What are you talking about?"

Ivar "You have been very quiet and frankly I don't like it. This is your first time meeting my son and you act like this." 

Torvi "He doesn't mean to, Ivar. It's just.."

Hvitserk "Just what?"

Ubbe "It is Lagertha." Ivar immediately grabs the edge of his seat and squeezes down harshly. "She found out about Bjorn's death, Ivar. She knows that you killed him and Hvitserk is now ruling by my side."

"How did she find out? I thought that she was on a farmland, far away from Kattegat!"

Ubbe "Someone who was loyal to Bjorn must have sent news to her that he did not return."

Ivar "What are you saying, Ubbe?"

Ubbe looks down at Baldur who is in his brother's arms, with a smile on his face and takes a deep breath. "She came back to Kattegat, brother's. She told me that she is seeking revenge for the death of her son."

Hvitserk "So.."

Torvi "She will arrive here soon. I don't know how long you have...but she warned us."

Ivar "And what exactly was that warning Torvi, hmm?"

Torvi "She will kill you for killing her son. And if she comes back to Kattegat without getting revenge, she will go after Ubbe for knowing about the events that took place that day." Ivar chuckles a little bit but it is out of anger and disbelief. Why do the gods let this happen? Why is this happening? Every time things start to feel normal and be peaceful, a new threat appears. He cannot blame her however, that was her son that she loved very much. Her only family member that she had left. Hvitserk looks like he is going to be sick at the table. You on the other hand, are absolutely furious. You have a baby that is not even two months old and a new war is about to occur. 

Hvitserk "This cannot be happening."

Ubbe "Sadly, brother it is. I tried to reason with her but she is Lagertha after all."

Ivar "I have sworn on my arm ring, to kill this murderous bitch for killing our mother. And now she wants to take me away from my son...my wife," he looks over at you and his anger turns to softness, "I will kill her."

"Ivar, I am fighting." 

Torvi "You have Baldur-"

"And you have four children Torvi! You still fight when battles come your way, I will not back down from this."

Hvitserk gets up from the table and runs to his chambers. Ubbe shakes his head from the events that are taking place.

Ivar "You know, this was supposed to be a joyous occasion Ubbe. A day where we focus on love and happiness and now you come here and tell me of a new threat."

Ubbe "I didn't want to tell you today Ivar, I was going to tell you tomorrow but you noticed-"

Ivar "Of course I noticed, you are my brother!" His loud voice startled Baldur and made him start to cry. You can see the look of pure defeat in your husband's arms. 

"Here, I'll take him. Come here little one. No need to cry, daddy is just upset right now shh shhh." You walk off into your chambers to try and calm your son down.

Ivar "I...will destroy that woman."

Ubbe "I have come to like her, brother but not now."

Ivar "Oh really? Now all of a sudden you don't like her anymore? Huh?"

Ubbe "I told her that you are now a father.."

Torvi "She laughed in his face, Ivar."

Ubbe "She said to me, more of a reason to kill him...or his queen and take away everything that he has taken away from me." 

Ivar bangs his hand on the table, alarming Messiah. 

Ivar "I had every reason to kill her bastard of a son! He took everything away from me! Banished me from my home, our brother away from our home! Of course I was going to kill him! She killed our mother Ubbe!"

Ubbe "I know, Ivar. I know. I will fight by your side, brother. I swear it."

Torvi "I am not fighting. Regardless of you two's thoughts of her, I have grown very close to Lagertha and I choose not to fight her."

Ivar "Very well. If you'll excuse me, I have to go check on my wife and son."

….

Ivar knocks on the door and you allow him in. He sits down beside you as you rock your son.

Ivar "I am sorry for shouting."

"It's alright. You have every reason too."

Ivar "I will kill her Y/n."

"I know that you will. I am not worried." 

Ivar "Why will you fight? This isn't your battle?"

"On the contrary. I heard what Ubbe said, Ivar. If she wants me then I will show her who I am."

Ivar "She is the strongest shield maiden in all of Scandinavia.."

"And I am the strongest shield maiden in all of Russia."

Ivar "Just promise me something."

"What?"

Ivar "Will you promise me that I will see you when the battle is won?"

"I promise."

__________________________________

Hvitserk is beside himself. He cannot believe that the gods would allow this big of a threat to come their way. You feel the need to find Hvitserk and try to talk to him, along with Ivar. Once you put Baldur down for his nap in his bassinet, you make your way to find him.

You find Hvitserk laying belly down on his bed. "Hey.."

Hvitserk "Hey."

Ivar "Don't cry, dear brother. No need to cry when we know that we will win."

Hvitserk "We are up against Lagertha Ivar-"

Ivar "And we beat her before Hvitserk. Her army retreated!"

Hvitserk just nods and puts his head down.

"Why are you so sad?"

Hvitserk "Because you said that you are fighting."

"I am Hvitserk. I am not turning my back away from this war. Not this time."

Hvitserk "But Baldur needs you."

"And he will have me. He will have his father and his godfather. Don't give in to her."

Ivar "She is weak now, brother. She may have a reputation when she was younger but those days are long gone." He smirks and nudges his brother's shoulder. 

Hvitserk "I guess you are right."

Ivar "I know that I am right." 

"Will you stop crying now? Do you see me crying?"

Hvitserk "No."

"And my life is on the line and I am not crying because I am confident enough with my army and my skills to win this war."

Hvitserk "Yes, queen Y/n."

Ivar "My strong warrior...so badass."

"You love me."

Ivar "I do."

_____________________________________

(That is right...Lagertha is coming into the mix😈)

@hvitserkmarcosource @heavenly1927 @youbloodymadgenius @ivarthebloodyking

[profiler-in-courage]

I am humbled 16 people have read my Claes Bang detective bullshit lol. Here is Ch. 2 & 3. Long af as always.

(I have yet to think of a title. Someone send me suggestions plz)

Chapter 2. 

The 7th Precinct was a media frenzy when Emerson pulled up. By 8 am, all the local news outlets had received some tip about the latest murders and it looked like all of them had sent a reporter. 

Emerson scanned the outside of the building, trying to find an entrance that wasn’t guarded by media. He stuffed case files he had taken home into his messenger bag and slung it over his shoulder, ready to walk-sprint. 

He lowered his gaze to the ground. Eye contact was what got you. 

As he reached the sanctuary of a door, he mentally congratulated himself on  avoiding the bombardment of questions he quite frankly, wasn’t prepared to answer. 

He sat his bag on his desk and headed over to Burnham. His sarcastic best friend of seven years always made the morning after a murder less dark.

“Hey Emerson,” Burnham sipped through a mug of milk. 

An unusual quirk about him was that Jacob Burnham simply drank plain milk. Never coffee. 

Whole, 2 percent, 1 percent, nonfat, whatever was in the back office fridge was good enough for him. 

Forty or seven-years-old? Nobody knew Burnham’s true age.

“Forensics came in,” he waved a file at Emerson. “No prints or DNA of any kind, same as always. Christ.”

Burnham shook his dirty blonde head and handed the papers over.

“Fuck Em, we are never going to catch this guy unless he leaves us something.”

Emerson flipped through the forensics report. Like Burnham had described there was nothing of significance. 

“He will eventually slip up, they always do,” he said, trying to be the positive one.

“Did the families have anything to offer?” 

His friend shook his head, “Just the usual. Victims never got into any trouble, well behaved, no enemies. Nothing out of the ordinary. Can’t imagine why anyone would want two 15-year-old girls dead.” 

Emerson’s mind flashed to Abigail. He was afraid for her. She was smart, but he was sure Halley Reece and Melanie Myers had been smart too. Hell, they may have even known his niece. Same high school. 

The image of Abigail lying in a ditch somewhere creeped across his mind. He shut his eyes.

The feeling of dread was slowly worming its way back into his stomach. 

He went back to his desk, dropping the very thin report onto it. 

It barely made a sound. 

He pulled his phone out of his bag. It was the first time he was checking it this morning. 

He was bad at that. 

One text from his sister and one message from Gwyn. 

He opened his sister’s first.

Emerson, the girls they found last night went to Abigail’s school….this just became a little too close for comfort. I almost made her stay home today.

He sighed, not knowing what to say to Eve. Obviously she couldn’t lock Abigail up in the house, the girl had to go to school and have a life. 

You can’t stop living just because of horrors, he thought.

He sympathized with his sister though, he was just as worried for his niece as she was. 

He scratched his eyebrow and opened up Gwyn’s message next. 

G: 203-637-1366

Was that her phone number? He scrolled to see if she had said anything either before or after, but she had not. It was just her phone number. Or so he assumed. 

Quite bold, he thought. But he oddly liked the cut to the chase showing.

“Any luck in that department?” 

Burnham was standing over his shoulder looking down at the open Tinder app.

Emerson slipped the phone into his front pocket, “Not really.”

“I told you to go on that date with Kate’s sister. Who knows, you could be getting laid every night.” Burnham shrugged. 

Emerson scoffed, “Your wife’s sister is 59 remember?”

A stupid smile flashed across Burnham’s face, “Hey but she’s single! And how do you know you don’t like older women?” 

Emerson blinked, at a loss for words. 

“All I’m saying is we could be brother in laws. Take one for the team Em!”

Emerson swiveled to his computer screen.

“I see you enough already,” he grumbled.

Burnham slapped him on the back, laughing softly. 

Emerson poured over the photos on his desk. One of a woman with the soles of her feet skinned to the point where you could see the bone, another with such horrendous strangulation marks around the neck the purple coloration was almost black. Both were women who had been killed by the Creekmore Serial Killer. 

He was deep in thought, trying to see some connection between all the victims, something he did routinely with no success for this case. 

It was like looking at a math problem he didn’t have the formula for. 

The pocket of his dark blue wool button-up buzzed. It was a text from Gwyn. 

G: So what are you looking to get out of a dating app?

Emerson paused before answering, trying to find sufficient words to make “looking to date” sound less horrendous. 

E: Looking to date. What about you?

He figured he may as well just tell the truth. 

G: I’m looking to get absolutely wild in the bedroom. Nothing more, nothing less.

Emerson’s eyebrows sprung up. Maybe he had misjudged Gwyn. He wasn’t looking for just sex. 

Burnham always joked that Emerson should be a priest.

He figured he would wait to respond if he responded at all. The excitement about his new match had been all but snuffed out after her proclamation. 

He pushed his glasses up so they rested on the top of his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt the pang of loneliness he sometimes felt when thinking about his love life. 

He missed his wife. He missed having someone to come home to, talk to, feel beside him as he slept. He missed how he was before. 

Ever since Lyla had passed he had been different. Not as cheerful, not as funny, he actually used to be somewhat of a practical joker. 

He had thought his old self would return after the grieving process was done, yet here he was years later and no relief. 

Lack of female interaction certainly wasn’t helping either. 

Emerson sighed. Maybe he should try the one-night-stand thing. Though the thought of it had always felt awkward. 

Why have sex with someone you hardly know? 

His phone vibrated, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

G: Did I scare you off? I was joking btw. 

He let out a small sigh of relief. Ashamed that he was so bad at the whole dating thing that this one match seemed to be the end all be all. 

E: Sorry, was working. He fibbed. But I am glad to see you won’t objectify me for my body.

G: Well, that’s only because I haven’t seen your body. 

Emerson chuckled. He liked her witty remarks. 

How soon was too soon to ask someone on a date? Were there Tinder rules? Did he care? 

Not really. 

E: How would you like to see it? Fully clothed of course. 

He felt his heart rate pick up. He hadn’t felt excited like this in a long time. 

Of course, that’s when Burnham decided to interrupt.

“Those photos telling you anything yet?” he asked. 

Emerson shook his head, “No unfortunately.” 

His friend sat on the edge of the desk, “This fucking bastard leaves no trace. No DNA. Nothing.”

With the lack of info they had that was all Burnham really ever said about it.

Hard to do, thought Emerson. 

He saw his phone vibrate on the desk.

Burnham’s eyes followed his friend’s. 

“So…you sure Tinder isn’t working out for you?”

Emerson rolled his eyes, “Oh Christ.”

After enduring more teasing from Burnham than he would’ve liked, his fellow detective finally left to go bother someone else. 

Despite the torture that had felt like he was being waterboarded, Emerson had not let anything slip about his potential date. 

Not all things were meant to be shared among friends, not yet anyway. Besides, he had only started talking to her last night. Everyone needed to relax, him included. 

He opened her message. 

G: I would love to. Name a time and place and I’m there.

Chapter 3. 

Coffee. That wasn’t too casual and not too formal right? Or so Emerson hoped. 

So here he sat at some local place downtown. Waiting and a bit nervous. 

He heard the door open and he saw her. His eyes followed hers as she looked around for her date. 

He lifted his finger slightly. 

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise,” she said as she sat down across from him. 

Emerson tilted his head in confusion, “What do you mean?” 

She smirked, “That you look exactly like your photos.” 

“Oh,” he chuckled. “Have you been on many dates where that wasn’t the case?” 

She ran a hand through her long hickory colored hair, “More than I’d like.” 

Gwyn looked exactly as she had in her photos too. Emerson hadn’t even considered the possibility that she wouldn’t. 

Which he probably should have considering he met her online. 

He studied her. She was staring at him, looking him up and down. He smiled, amused. 

“Would you like a drink?” he asked. 

“I would,” she said. 

Emerson waited for her to say what she wanted. A few seconds went by. 

This is awkward, he thought as his eyes darted from side to side. 

He cleared his throat. 

“What would you like?...” he asked.

Gwyn smiled mischievously, “You're a detective. Read me. What do you think my order is?”

Interesting, he thought. 

He tilted his head slightly, finally drinking in everything about the woman who was across from him. 

She was wearing a tight black turtleneck, dark blue jeans, and a silver chain-linked bracelet. 

Her makeup was simple, she didn’t need much of it. She was naturally beautiful. Her hair had a shine to it and it curled into a slight wave. 

She had with her a plain black satchel. Big enough to fit only a wallet and a phone and possibly a few other womanly essentials. 

She was simple. But, sophisticated. At least that is what her appearance told him. 

Emerson remembered that her bio had said she was an artist. Which must mean she was somewhat serious about coffee. Not the frappuccino type. 

But, there was a softness to her. She didn’t appear to take herself too seriously, judging from her text messages. 

So probably not black coffee. 

Gwyn waited patiently for him to finish his assessment. A hint of a smile on her lips. 

“I think I got it,” Emerson said as he turned to walk towards the counter. 

“Hi, can I get one iced hazelnut latte and one hot Americano with cream please,” he told the barista. 

Emerson turned to look back at Gwyn. She was far enough away so she wouldn't have heard the order. 

He wanted to see her shock when she found out he was right. He was certain he was. 

He smiled to himself. 

He walked back to their table with the drinks. Gwyn was sitting looking bemused. Her legs crossed, her eyes following his every move.

“So, what did you decide for me?” she asked. 

Her voice was soft. He liked it. It reminded him of the way a stream sounds in a quiet forest.

Emerson said nothing. Just simply handed her the drink. 

Her eyes sparkled as she took it from his hand. Her gaze holding his. 

For a moment, he thought he might have gotten her wrong. 

Gwyn took a sip of the Americano and raised her eyebrows. 

He could tell she was trying to hide her amazement. She didn’t want to give him complete satisfaction and he liked that. She was fun.  

“Well Detective Woods, I suppose you are very good at your job then,” she smiled. 

Emerson beamed.

“Only a little,” he said as he took a sip of his latte. 

Gwyn let out a small laugh, shaking her head, “Is it too soon to say I already want to see you again and this date has been what, 10 minutes?” 

He looked at her over his straw. He felt the same. 

He felt something. For the first time since his wife.

“Now let me do you,” she said. 

Emerson paused, “What…”

“Let me read you,” said Gwyn, sipping her coffee. 

He sat back, trying to hide a smile, “Alright.”

Gwyn rubbed the bottom of her chin with her thumb as she studied the man across from her. 

He was handsome, that much was obvious. Rugged around the edges but not sharp, which was good. It made him look kind. 

He was wearing a grey quarter-zip pullover sweater, the beginnings of a burgundy collared shirt peeking out. His tortoise shell glasses made him look like he could be walking the halls of Oxford and be at home. 

Faded dark green pants with...were those cowboy boots? Interesting. 

So he wasn’t from Connecticut. 

The eyes behind the glasses were dark yet welcoming. A few days old stubble coated his face. 

His hair, thank god he had a full head of it, was dark. Perfectly styled in the ever popular comb over. 

It was too long for him to be ex-military but short enough that she could tell he liked things neat. Gwyn couldn’t quite tell if it was black or just a very dark shade of brown. 

Luckily they were seated by a window and he moved ever so slightly so that a ray of sunshine hit him. 

Midnight brown, was that a color? It was now. Silver bits were beginning to show their glint throughout Emerson’s hair.

If she was being honest he didn’t look like a police detective. They usually were only this good looking in movies. He could have been a writer or a professor that female students day dreamed about. 

The cowboy boots were throwing her off. 

Was he Texan? 

She didn’t remember hearing an accent, but then again they had only said a few sentences to each other. 

And yet, she knew she wanted a second date. She needed to impress him. She didn’t know she already had.

“Judging from your boots you aren’t from here, I’ll be generic and guess Texas?”

He nodded, waiting for Gwyn to continue. 

“You’re smart, otherwise you wouldn’t be a detective and you most certainly would not have gotten my order right. You're patient, you would have to be to be willing to sit here right now and listen to me.” 

Emerson chuckled, taking another sip of his latte. 

Gwyn continued, “Your eyes are hard but your face is gentle. You have seen and been through monstrous things but you don’t let it affect your character. You’re quiet, which leads me to believe you’re polite. Which is good because I can’t stand loud boisterous men.” 

Emerson leaned forward. He hadn’t expected her to be this good. 

“Between the way you look and my expectation that you are a good man, you must be single for a reason. So, I am guessing your ex either was unfaithful or died.” 

Gwyn was blunt. Emerson didn’t know how he felt about that. 

He scratched his cheek, “She passed away.”

Gwyn looked down at the table, confidence leaving her for only a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. 

Emerson shrugged, “But you were right.” 

Gwyn smiled softly. 

He could tell she enjoyed being right. Though not with a haughty arrogance. He respected that. 

“And how did you learn to read people so well? Are you an ex detective?” he asked, amused. 

Gwyn twirled a strand of hair in her fingers, “It’s not hard to see what people project.” 

Emerson smirked, nodding. 

Oh she’s very smart, he thought. 

They talked for hours after conducting their own way of breaking the ice. Gwyn could now hear the hint of an accent. 

They discussed movies, music, food, books, especially books. 

She liked nonfiction. He preferred fiction. 

Emerson was entranced with the way Gwyn spoke. Her words were light but intelligent. And she held eye contact. 

She had already assessed why he was single. So why was she?

He continued to study her. 

Her posture was welcoming, her sentences were flirtatious, but her expressions were guarded. 

Guarded meant she had been hurt before. Most likely multiple times. 

Though with an open posture, not physically. 

He couldn’t detect anything to signify she was nervous. She hadn’t been the entire date. She was confident. She could have anyone she wanted. 

So why didn’t she? 

“Figured me out yet?” she asked, pulling Emerson out of his thoughts. 

He looked down, embarrassed. 

“Not quite,” he smiled.

“Good. I need you at least intrigued enough for a second date,” she said. 

“Possibly more,” said Emerson, playfully reaching.

“Possibly,” Gywn responded, her eyes dancing.

She leaned forward on the small circular table. 

“Emerson Woods you are something.”

He winked. It made her laugh. 

“As much as I would love to talk with you all day, I should be going,” she said. 

Emerson nodded. He probably should too. They had spent nearly three hours in this coffee shop. 

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said, wanting every second he could with her. 

She turned to him, placing her hand lightly on his shoulder. 

“Oh there is no need. I took an Uber, car’s in the shop after a very nasty old woman felt the need to rear end me.” 

Emerson laughed. He could offer her a ride. Should he?

“Would you like me to track her down for you? I could probably find something to pin on her,” he said, glancing down at where her hand had just been. 

She giggled, rolling her eyes, “Could you please? She’s costing me 400 dollars.”

They walked outside. It was overcast and there was a slight breeze. Emerson watched her hair lift in the wind. 

Before she could take out her phone to call an Uber, Emerson walked over to the passenger side of his car that was parked along the curb. He opened it. 

“I promise you’ll have a more enjoyable experience with me rather than someone you don’t know. If you’ll allow me.”

Gwyn bit her bottom lip, raising her eyebrows, “But I don’t know you. Not really.” 

Emerson paused. She was right. Three hours of conversation didn’t exactly mean they knew each other. And with the Creekmore Serial Killer making headlines for months, she was probably wise to refuse him. 

“I suppose that’s true,” he said. “Though I am a policeman,” he kept his hand on the door handle. 

She bopped her head from side to side, feigning weighing her options. 

“Can I rate you if you're a bad driver?” she joked, stepping over to the car.

Emerson chuckled, “I promise to be extra careful with you.”