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dessertpanda · 3 months ago
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All to Break it again
PT 2 of Her Healed heart MasterList
Okay, this was a request I'm sorry this took so long, between everything and the small writer slump I've been going through... I am happy to finally get something out to you all. HAPPY NEW YEAR BTW... okay and I did a pole on my Tumbler for who gets the girl... ya'll are ruthless... like actually. Mavuikaaa shouts out to them for the request!!!! Cheating, cursing, Abusive relationship, sex... yeah they said sad so...) OOC RAPH! (I think nearly all the boys would be at least decent boyfriends... but for the sake of it all...)
(It takes a few months after they've been dating... and after the Out of the Shadow movie [that wasn't relevant last chap but it is in this one]
Y/n sat quietly on the couch, crocheting a small turtle to match the plush Raph had made for her. She was waiting for him to return, and after an argument with Leo, he left to blow off some steam... she'd be waiting a while.  "Where do you think he's at?" A soft but stern voice called out, increasing in volume as the figure walked out of the Dojo. Y/n glanced up and softly smiled at her best friend. Leo stood in the doorway, sweat dripping down his form and his katakanas snuggling on his back.
"The gym or rooftop," truth was... she had no idea where he was. He had a habit of just getting up and leaving, not telling anyone where he was going or when he'd return. It had worsened in recent weeks, but she simply brushed it off as his usual attitude. Having been with Raph for a little over a couple months, she was still in the honeymoon phase. Rose-colored lens and a mindset that he could do no wrong. The perfect... man. However, Leo could see right through that. He'd seen Raph leave her waiting one too many times. He has seen him walk out of the room while they were making love... leaving Y/n sitting on the bed... Cold... Lonely... Unsatisfied. But yet, she never moved... simply waiting for him to return. He'd watch Raph leave on their date night, checking his phone before making up an excuse to head to the surface... Again leaving Y/n dolled up... in the lair... once again... waiting.
'He's...no,' Leo shook the ideas out of his head... deciding to join Y/n on the couch. Gently sitting on the cochin next to her, watching as her delicate hands gently held the thread and hook, pulling it through and repeating... He watched the way her tongue was stuck out in concentration... 'Oh, if you were my girl... I'd never keep you waiting He chuckled to himself... kicking himself for allowing his brother to take her... especially watching her now.
"Leo..." Her voice was soft... almost fragile. One he wasn't expecting, completely contradicting the smile on her face. "do... do you think... he found someone else?" Her question... unfortunately didn't surprise him, in fact... he and she were both on the same page as usual.
"I..." He silenced himself...hearing the rev of Raph's bike entering the garage of the lair. "later... we can talk later," He sighed, getting up off the couch to move seats, knowing Raph would be pissy if he caught him so close to her.
"I'M HOME!" His voice... was booming, echoing through the lair... but what startled Leo the most... was the way Y/n jumped, not at the volume... no... at the voice itself. His voice.
"HI BABE!" Y/n called, getting up to greet her green boyfriend at the living room entrance. She smiled softly at him, the yarn clenched tightly in her hands, the small turtle suffocating from her grasp.
"Oh, hey Y/n," His voice held no excitement... no acknowledgment... no love. It was just... as if he was talking to a wall or toy. "Could you go make me something, I'm starving!" The way she flinched... the way she moved without question... she had lost the subtle relaxed energy she had moments ago... the moment he walked in.
"R-right... Absolutely!" Setting down the craft, she made quick way to the Kitchen. Leo... hated what he was seeing, she wasn't a housewife... to return after hours of being gone... and to demand food... No hug? No kiss? No Hi, love?
"Leo..." Raph gave a subtle nod to his older brother before following close behind her.
"Raph..." Leo could only stare... watching... waiting... Analyzing his brother... 'why? Why so cold? Why so distant? Why so... human-like?' He sat there for a moment, just listening to them softly talking in the kitchen. Not loud enough for him to hear... but enough for him to know... they were arguing. The muffed sounds of Raph huffing and grunting... responding with sorry or don't question me. He couldn't stop himself from slowly approaching, peaking around the corner, watching as Y/n shuffled around the Kitchen, glass plate in hand, heating up the leftovers from last night's pot roast. Upon closer inspection... it wasn't just any glass plate. Of course not, Raph only ate off his limited-edition Batman cutlery.
Oh, and Leo watched it in slow motion... the way her foot caught the edge of the carpet, something Donnie was supposed to fix ages ago, how she gasped, how her eyes zeroed in on the plate... that was following in front of her. Watched how she reached out to catch it, neglecting her own safety, allowing her jaw to harshly hit the ground while she barely missed the plate... he watched as it shattered... glass flying, digging into her hands and scattering across the tile. He watched as tears gathered in her eyes... staring at the plate... then glancing back at the hulking figure that sat still on the bar stool.
"AH!" Y/n's voice shattered whatever concentration he had, making a quick move to attend to her... but he halted... the look on her face... the way her pupils dilated in fear. How her breath slowed as reality slowly soaked in.
"DAMN IT Y/N!" Raph's voice was... full of rage. Not the way one should speak when their lover had just been hurt. Leo didn't move, he wanted... no he needed to see how this played out. He watched as Raph got up, practically stepping over Y/n reaching down to pick up the pieces of his shattered collectible. "YOU FUCKIN BROKE IT!" He roared, reaching for another piece, holding them, trying to piece them back together.
"Ah! I'm so sorry! I-I'll find you another one!" Using her glass and soaked hands to push herself up off the ground... she again, neglected herself to tend to him, Leo watched as she only slightly winced while doing so... simply shaking her head and standing to peer over Raphs shoulder.
Raph snorted in disbelief, "Oh really? How do you expect to do that huh?" His voice was... deep... rough... angry... "HUH?" Jetting up to full height, his shell made contact with her jaw as he stood. Now towering over the mess and her. "Only a few were ever made... SO HOW!" Y/n groaned softly from the pain... wiping the bit of blood that dripped from her lip due to her biting it.
"M-maybe I can fix it!" Now bouncing up herself, she stared up at him. His looming figure took steps closer to her... causing her to take steps back, one, two, three, four...until she met the counter... pinning her under him. She knew she couldn't fight back... not against him... not enough to protect herself if he had a lash out... again. "R-Raph, You're scaring me... please," Her soft whimper as Raph tightly gripped her upper arm caused Leo to act. Moving quickly and swiftly, he tightly gripped Raphs forearm...a warning glare in his eyes.
"Let... Her... Go!" His voice was stern, venomous... When he felt Raphs grip only tighten... he did something he never thought he'd do... Drawing a kitchen knife from the block... he held it to Raphs bicep. "Now"
"L-Leo," Y/n gasped softly, from both his appearance and his action. She sighed in relief when Raph let go... a bruise already forming. Ducking quickly, using what Leo had taught her ages ago to escape the confines of Raphs hulking figure. Swiftly and smoothly, she found herself safe behind Leo... who still stood... glaring at his brother.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?"
"SHE BROKE MY PLATE!"
"SO YOU CAN JUST HURT HER?? ARE YOU A FUCKIN ANIMAL?" Raphs response pissed him off... how dare he think that such a motive was good enough to lay a hand on a woman... not just any woman... his own woman... 'No fuck his woman... my woman' Leo gritted his teeth, after seeing that. Raph deserved nothing... nobody like Y/n.
"She... I-" Raph was cut off by Leo... who had lowered the knife and had his arm wrapped around Y/n...who was still hiding behind him.
"Save it... You're her lover... you should be protecting her... not hurting her!"
"I DO PROTECT HER!"
"JUST NOT FROM YOURSELF APPARENTLY!"
"WELL AREN'T YOU JUST MR.PERFECT!" Raph stood chest to chest with Leo... his glare never wavering
"I... I never claimed to be perfect... but at least I don't let my emotions control me and hurt the ones I care for," Oh his calm voice pissed Raph off even more... left his blood boiling.
'Who the fuck are you to get involved?' He grumbled in his head... "I didn't hurt her..."
"The bruise says otherwise!"
"I-" Raph halted... watching as her form shook softly behind Leo... wanting to run... but too scared to leave the wall that was her best friend. Raph only scoffed, rolling his eyes while hitting Leo's shoulder on his way out of the room... Causing both Leo and Y/n to gasp.
(mini time skip)
Y/n had left... telling Leo she was going to search for the plate... and fix what she'd done... no matter how much it cost. Ever insistent, even after Leo told her she shouldn't reward Raph for his lash out... and that accidents happen. She left the lair in high tension... the two brothers refusing to even look the other in the eyes.
"So... You're just that Fucken stupid?" Leo sat, gently holding the crocheted turtle between his fingers, not looking up to meet his brother's glare.
"No one asked you to get involved..." Leo didn't care... This was Y/n they were talking about, the girl he GAVE... He gave to his brother... to hold, cherish, love... not whatever was going on now...
"I don't give a damn... You hurt her... and not only emotionally with you leaving all the damn time but physically... PHYSICALLY!!" He roared, moving to stand... Raphs brush-off attitude pissing him off.
"I KNOW! Alright, I messed up... but what do you want me to do? Can't fucken turn back the clock and undo it!"
"I gave YOU!" Leo was furious... breathing heavily, his eyes pinned to Raph... and his fists clenched tightly at his sides... a poor excuse of a way to try and hold himself back. With a deep breath, he thought his words over carefully before continuing. "I gave you... the greatest girl of all Times," Now standing over Raph, turtle set aside safely... "I helped you get her... I played wingman... and yet," He couldn't stop them... not the tears of rage that threatened to fall... From the sheer... Embarrassment, rage, longing? He didn't know, but he knew they were for her. "I thought she'd be happier with you... but she's terrified of you... How can you sit there and just... be okay with that?" He was breathless, truly trying to fathom how Raph could do such a thing.
"There's someone else..." It was hesitant... nothing but a mere whisper, but to the leader... it was like Raph had just screamed in his face...
"What..." He watched as Raph panicked, having heard the words spoken for the first time. The soft gasp that left his lips after admitting such a thing... "Hehe... hahah! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!" Now grabbing him by the front of his plastron, Leo forced him to stand... "YOU'RE GIVEN THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME TO BE WITH A GIRL THAT TRULY WANTS YOU..." He took a deep breath... but his screaming continued... "AND YOU GO SLEEP WITH SOMEONE ELSE!?"
"I DON'T KNOW OKAY... She was... just there and... I couldn't contain myself," He didn't try to argue back... he had no right to. Now after... Knowing,  knowing that he was literally cheating on his older brother's dream girl.
"I really... Really feel like killing you..." Leo's voice was dark... and venomous... "but... At least she knows," The smirk that took over Leo's face was... devilish, like he had caught an angle in his sinful trap. With a slight shift of weight from one foot to the other... Leo revealed what was behind his large shell.
"what do you... Y/n..." Raphs eyes widened... There she was... in all her beautiful glory... but it was tainted. Her tear-stained face, the way her eyebrows furred in rage, and how her eyes were dark... oh so dark.
"Thank you, Leo... I should've known..." She sighed, bringing her sleeve up to wipe her face. "I... I'd like to go home now," Her voice was even... as if she wasn't heartbroken... like who she thought was the love of her life, didn't just admit to cheating on her.
"I... Wait!" He went to shove Leo out of his way, but the hero in blue refused to move...
"You've done enough..."
"YOU SET ME UP!! WHY? Y/N!" Raph screamed, "PLEASE... let me explain!" Still struggling against Leo, Raph reached out for her, watching as she only stared at him...
"Why? You... admitted yourself," All this time, "The number of times... you left me...were they all for her?" He could see the pieces all falling into place... "Left me in bed... Date nights..." She chuckled, it was humorless but still...  "All for her?"
"I... Okay, fine but scream at me, hit me... Something!" He wanted a reaction from her... fear, rage, sadness... anything to show she cared, anything... that would give him some type of amo to make her stay.
"No... I," She sighed softly, refusing to look away from him... staring at his distressed eyes over Leo's shoulder... She knew she had to face him now... or else she'd fall for his trap all over again. "I am done... wasting tears on you..." With a shove, he fell back onto the couch, his weight causing it to strain under him. He moved to get up but stopped...watching as Leo moved, leading Y/n to his bedroom, arm around her shoulder... holding her close to his chest.
"Don't... bother us Raph," Oh he didn't miss the way Leo smirked. The way his arm tightened ever so slightly or how it moved from her shoulder to her waist.
 Raph sat down... he deserved this. He got too greedy and now... he was left with a girl who didn't take the time to remember how he liked his sandwiches... how he hated sweaty bandanas, or that he loved the simple act of just... existing together. Raph knew Leo was the one that healed her heart... "All for me to break it again.." He scoffed... knowing no matter what, he lost, he lost the girl, the gracious chance of a love life... to his brother... the guy that should've had her first... Accepting his sadness... he sat on the couch... allowing the tears to flow and the soft sobs to leave his throat... He wanted no sympathy... only to wallow in his own anguish at the opportunity he fucked up.
(OKAY OKAY... I hope that was up to expectations... this was hard to write like.. really hard wokring on the next chapter for my Villian Deku x Y/N HAVE A GREAT DAY AND REMEMBER TO EAT, DRINK, AND LOVE YOURSELF BYEEEEEE LOVE YOU ALL)
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cguy3033 · 8 months ago
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Edit: BTW, the Dates are from September 16-22 Hello Huntmira Fans!(at least those who still remain)
So, like last year, I thought it would be an atleast somewhat good idea to bring back huntmira week!
Disclaimer: any of the following themes can be done even after the week is over
(BTW, I did this last year on Twitter and Insta, but I didn’t have Tumbler).
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The themes in question are:
Day 1: Western or 1920s Themed
Day 2: Anime/TV Show/Video game Couple cosplay(choose whichever fandom you want)
Day 3: Romantic Honeymoon (Future)/ Future Grom Dance
Day 4: My Hero (either Hunter or Emira saving the other form either kidnapping, an attack…basically a Luz falling for Amity moment)
Day 5: Flyer Derby Themed (Hunter playing and Emira being a fan/cheerleader for him)
Day 6: A Princess and Her Guard
Day 7: Whatever you want
Quick Note: please show some respect for those who decide to participate in the week. If you don’t like the ship, just move along and ignore it.
Small short stories of the ship are also allowed.
If you wish to participate, please let me know by using the huntmira hashtag below.
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art-sciencedesigns · 1 month ago
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Beautiful & Elegant Wedding Gifts on Etsy - Gift Idea #632986934
Mr and Mrs Tumblers, Wedding Gift, Gift for the Couple, Matching Wedding Tumblers, Honeymoon Gift, Stemless Wine Tumblers, Groom Gift, BrideBrought to you by a shop owner on etsy.com.GET THIS ON ETSY.COM Follow Art+Science Designs On Social Media Too!
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nkyangiehomes · 2 months ago
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Romance Wrapped in a Hamper: Wedding Gift Ideas to Celebrate Forever
Introduction
Weddings are a celebration of love, commitment, and new beginnings. Finding the perfect wedding gift can be challenging, but a thoughtfully curated gift hamper is an elegant and meaningful way to express your best wishes. Whether you’re gifting a luxurious experience, personalized keepsakes, or practical home essentials, a well-designed hamper adds a touch of romance to the special occasion.
Need inspiration? Here are some creative and heartfelt wedding hamper ideas that will make the newlyweds feel cherished.
1. The Ultimate Personalized Wedding Hamper
Engraved Keepsakes
Customized couple’s nameplate
Engraved champagne flutes or wine glasses
Personalized photo frame or wedding album
Handwritten Love Notes
A letter from the giver, expressing heartfelt wishes
A journal for the couple to write love notes to each other
Star Map or Custom Illustration
A framed print of the night sky from their wedding date
A hand-drawn or digital couple’s portrait
2. Luxury Spa & Relaxation Hamper
Scented Indulgence
Aromatherapy candles with romantic fragrances
Essential oils for relaxation
Pampering Essentials
Luxurious bathrobes and slippers
Silky eye masks for restful sleep
Couples’ Spa Treats
Bath bombs and organic skincare products
A massage oil set for intimate moments
3. Gourmet Food & Wine Hamper
Fine Wine & Spirits
A bottle of premium champagne, wine, or whiskey
Customized wine glasses or cocktail tumblers
Delicious Treats
Handmade chocolates or artisanal truffles
Gourmet cheese and crackers set
Personalized Touch
A custom-engraved cheese board
A handwritten recipe book for romantic meals
4. Adventure & Experience Hamper
Bucket List Inspiration
A "100 Date Night Ideas" scratch-off poster
Travel guides for dream honeymoon destinations
Exciting Experiences
A voucher for a couples’ cooking or dance class
Concert or theater tickets for a memorable night out
Memorable Keepsakes
A travel journal for recording adventures
A personalized passport cover set
5. Home Essentials Hamper for Newlyweds
Stylish Decor & Utility Items
Monogrammed towels or cushions
Elegant candlesticks or vases
Practical Kitchen Essentials
A personalized cutting board
A set of premium coffee or tea
Romantic Dinner Set-Up
Scented candles and placemats for intimate dinners
A recipe book for couples cooking together
6. DIY Love & Memories Hamper
Customized Love Storybook
A scrapbook filled with special couple moments
A love coupon book for cute date ideas
Handmade Surprises
A DIY candle-making kit
A playlist of meaningful songs
Letters for the Future
A set of "Open When..." letters for different occasions
A sealed time capsule to open on a future anniversary
Conclusion
A wedding gift hamper is more than just a collection of items—it’s a bundle of love, memories, and well wishes for the couple’s journey ahead. Whether you choose a luxurious, personalized, or experience-based hamper, the key is to make it thoughtful and meaningful.
No matter which hamper you go for, remember: it’s the love and intention behind the gift that truly makes it special.
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happiclaps · 7 months ago
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Unique Gifts for Newly Married Couples: Personalized Ideas to Make Them Smile
iFnding the perfect gifts for newly married couples can sometimes be a challenge, especially when you want to give something memorable and meaningful. Personalized gifts offer a fantastic way to stand out, adding a thoughtful touch that’s sure to make the couple smile. Whether it’s for a wedding, housewarming, or just a congratulatory present, these personalized gifts can create cherished memories for years to come. In this blog, we’ll explore some unique gift ideas for newly married couples that combine creativity with a personal touch.
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1. Customized Name Plaques
A personalized name plaque featuring the couple's last name or first names is a thoughtful and decorative gift. This unique gift for newly married couples can be placed in their new home as a symbol of their unity. You can opt for designs that reflect their personality, such as a rustic wooden look or a sleek modern finish. Whether it's for their front door, living room, or bedroom, a custom name plaque is a beautiful keepsake that they can cherish forever.
2. Personalized Couple’s Portrait
Immortalize the couple’s big day by gifting them a custom portrait. These unique portraits can be painted, sketched, or digitally created, reflecting either their wedding photo or a cute cartoon version of them. This creative approach makes for an unforgettable newly married couple gift, perfect for showcasing in their home. Adding their wedding date or a meaningful quote will make it even more special.
3. Customized Wine or Whiskey Set
For couples who love to share a glass of wine or whiskey, a personalized set can be a thoughtful and sophisticated gift. This could include engraved wine glasses, whiskey tumblers, or even a custom bottle of their favorite drink with their names and wedding date. A unique gift for newly married couples like this combines elegance with personal sentiment, making it an ideal gift for their quiet moments together.
4. Engraved Photo Frames
A personalized photo frame engraved with the couple’s names or their wedding date is a timeless gift. They can fill the frame with their favorite moments from their wedding day or honeymoon. This simple yet sentimental gift stands out as a thoughtful option among gifts for newly married couples, giving them a beautiful way to display cherished memories.
5. Personalized Recipe Book
If the couple enjoys cooking together, a personalized recipe book could be a meaningful and practical gift. You can fill it with family recipes, new meal ideas for them to try, or leave pages blank for them to add their favorite dishes as they go. A custom recipe book offers a fun and interactive way to connect as a couple, making it a unique gift for newly married couples who love spending time in the kitchen.
6. His and Hers Matching Robes
Comfort and luxury meet with personalized matching robes. Embroidering their names or initials on plush, high-quality bathrobes is a cute and cozy gift idea. This type of gift is perfect for the couple’s first morning together or lazy weekend days at home. It’s a simple yet unique gift for newly married couples that they’ll surely appreciate every time they slip into the soft robes.
7. Customized Travel Map
For adventurous couples, a personalized travel map that marks the places they’ve been or where they plan to go can be an exciting and unique gift idea. You can customize the map with their names and wedding date, adding pins or stickers for each new destination they visit. This thoughtful gift encourages future adventures and serves as a beautiful reminder of their journey together.
8. Personalized Memory Box
A custom memory box is a creative and sentimental way for newlyweds to store mementos from their wedding, honeymoon, and other special occasions. Engrave their names or a heartfelt message on the box to make it even more special. This unique gift allows them to keep treasured items safe and provides a beautiful place for memories to grow over the years.
9. Custom Star Map
A custom star map depicting the night sky on their wedding day is a beautiful and cosmic gift idea. This unique artwork can include the date, time, and location of the couple's special day, showing exactly how the stars aligned for their wedding. It’s a beautiful way to remember that magical moment and makes a thoughtful newly married couple gift that they’ll love displaying in their home.
10. Personalized Couple's Puzzle
For the playful couple, a personalized jigsaw puzzle featuring a photo of them is a fun and interactive gift. Whether they choose to complete it and frame it or leave it as a fun activity for a cozy night in, this unique and thoughtful gift adds an element of joy to their married life.
Conclusion
When it comes to choosing gifts for newly married couples, personalization can make all the difference. These unique gift ideas add a personal touch that shows thoughtfulness and care, helping the couple cherish the moments they’ve shared and look forward to their future together. From engraved photo frames to custom travel maps, each of these unique gifts for newly married couples offers a blend of sentimentality and creativity, guaranteed to bring a smile to their faces.
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rcubens · 11 months ago
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Reuben wasn’t sure where his propensity for Whiskey had come from. As a kid, his dad certainly drank but it wasn’t a poignant part of any of his memories of the man. Except for one Fourth of July weekend when he fell off the dock into the lake and took his mom with him after a few too many mint juleps and hours in the sun. They were certainly in love, caught up in their own laughter and all handsy like a couple of kids who never grew out of the honeymoon phase. He had lost a good thing before Woodrow and now had lost again.
The clunking of the crystal startled him as the tumblers stopped right in front of him. But, he wouldn’t say no to whatever ritzy whiskey Rich kept around. He inhales deeply, nose deep in the glass. Aged notes of orange and figs mixing with the smoke of aged oak. The glass is brought to his lips and he takes a sip and attempts to savour the drink. The experience is ruined by Eliza’s comment.
He pauses— glass in mid air, burn settling across his palette. The same way she can’t get pissed at him, he can’t get pissed at her for ruining his tasting. Despite being a mere four years younger than him, she still felt like a baby. Being the youngest— she was one of the only wards with photos of the entirety of her childhood adorning the walls. He felt bad hurting her, like he did any of the wards younger than him. Natalia occasionally was roped into that group too.
He swallows hard, “yeahhh,” dragging out those last syllables pensively. “But it was still wrong, it wasn’t fair to the rest of you to tarnish your memories on such a hard day.” He continues, dropping his glass back down to the table. “You can be pissed— everyone else is, I can take it,” He couldn’t. But, he was certainly trying.
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where: main kitchen
when: late night
with: @rcubens
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as a kid, eliza was known for being a perfectly angelical little kid - who just so happened to throw the worst tantrums known to man. she would scream and cry and one famous time even hold her breath until passed out. these were very rare moments, and they would be gone as soon as they started, a storm in a teacup, a rare insight into the girl who almost looked like a doll the rest of time. though eliza didn’t scream anymore, her temper still bubbled underneath the calm surface, ready to erupt at any moment. and god, she was getting so tired. “here” she says carelessly, putting two cup in front of reuben and pouring one two many fingers of whiskey into them. she didn’t say anything else for a couple of seconds, lifting her glass and taking a long sip, not really feeling the taste as much as the burn. “you were such an asshole today.” however, surprisingly even to herself, eliza's voice didn't come out tinged with anger. it broke pathetically in the middle, soft and low. "but you were right. and i can't even get fucking pissed at you, because you were right."
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arcadiavacation · 3 years ago
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Srilanka Honeymoon Package-50% Off 
Arcadia Vacations, we are obligated to empower our customers with the best Srilanka tour packages at a rock-bottom price. We provide an extensive range of Srilanka packages in two different options, i.e., honeymoon and leisure. Our Srilanka tour and honeymoon packages are tailored to meet our customers' requirements and provide them with a lifetime experience.
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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago
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chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter
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✖   —   chapter summary: Now that Zeke has explained what truly happened with Yelena, all your troubles have finally ended. Except that now you need to start avoiding Porco. However, things change once you overhear a conversation in the woman's bathroom.
✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader
✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, descriptions of panic attacks, lots of self-doubt, gaslighting, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 
✖   —   a/n: i have posted the playlist that goes with this series! click here to check this post <3
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chapter three: me and my husband
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Porco looked at his cellphone, an ill sensation filling up his stomach as he read over and over your last messages. For the past few days, he had been trying to reach out to you but he had been rejected every time.
He knew something wrong was going on the moment you said you couldn’t make it to his lacrosse game. Ever since you became friends, you hadn’t missed a single game. He had once seen you finishing an essay on your phone and sending it while you were sitting on the bleachers, excited for the game to begin. He had seen you falling asleep on his shoulder during a party after a game, too tired from studying for a test that you took earlier.
Porco sighed. He wished he could find any other reason to explain your behaviour but the only one that came to his mind was his late night confession to you. He shouldn’t have told you he loved you. Now you were avoiding him and his feelings and he was scared he had lost your friendship completely.
He put the phone on his back pocket and grabbed his keys, heading to the parking lot. After getting into his car, he turned on the radio and drove out of the campus, entering the main highway of the city. He wasn’t sure where he was heading to, but all he knew is that he wanted to stop thinking about you, the moment he thought you had shared and the dry messages that followed.
He had really fucked it up.
 Sitting on your faculty’s corridor floor, you looked over at the texts Porco had been sending you the past week. It physically pained you to be so curt with someone that meant so much to you. Porco had always been there for you, even in the times you had told him you really didn’t need him. He cared when you got sick, when you were sad and also when you wanted company to crash a party on campus. You two had been inseparable since the day you met and he was already acquaintances with Annie and Armin due to all the time he had spent at your place.
This was the right thing to do, you told yourself one more time, closing your Instagram. You were taking the right decision. Porco had fallen in love with you and then had tried to make you think your boyfriend had cheated on you. If Zeke hadn’t pointed that out for you, you probably wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late. Truly, you were lucky Zeke had been understanding about the whole situation and had forgiven you for not trusting in him.
Porco wasn’t a bad person. You knew in your heart he wasn’t. But you had been wrong to trust he had your best interest in his mind.
That’s what didn’t make sense. Why had Porco, sweet and caring Porco had suddenly decided to put you against Zeke only just because he had caught feelings for you? The Porco you knew wouldn’t have done that. If he truly only wanted to drive you away from Zeke, he would have let you kiss him the night he spent with you. He would have taken the opportunity, right? So, why didn’t he?
Your head started hurting.
Your thumb ghosted over Porco’s contact on your phone, wondering whether to call him or not. You missed him dearly and knew that if you asked him to be honest, he would. There were countless moments in the past where he had been honest with you, from the time he confessed to accidentally stepping on your foundation powder and the time he opened up about his father’s death.
He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me.
Zeke’s voice resonated in your ears and you bit your tongue. He was right. You needed to remember Porco was trying to put you against your boyfriend.
Before you could think of a counterargument, you shot a quick text to Zeke. Yes. A day with your boyfriend would help you keep your mind busy.
“wanna hang out later? <3”
You watched intently, a small smile on your face as the three dots twinkled on your screen. Zeke’s answer came a few seconds later.
“Can’t. Exam tomorrow :(“
He then sent you a picture of a couple of books over a table that you recognized as the university’s library. He also had the tumbler you had given him a couple of months ago, filled with straight black coffee if you had to take a guess.
“:(( okaaaay, good luck on your exam, love u!”
“<3”
You put your phone away and sighed. You missed Zeke too. The few days after you had confronted him about the time you thought you saw Yelena and him kissing, he had showered you with love. You had spent the weekend at his place wearing nothing but an old t-shirt of his and making love several times a day. You snuggled to him on the couch as he watched an old documentary and playfully took the cigar from his lips and took a puff yourself. ‘Ladies like you shouldn’t smoke,’ he had said playfully as he took it back from your lips and then pressed a kiss on your temple.
Nevertheless, the short honeymoon phase after you made up had come to an end. You knew it was going to happen, but now your body and heart were craving more of him and his classes were taking all his time. If it wasn’t an exam it was a group project or a study session and even if you knew seniors had it way harder than you, you missed him. Missed his beard scratching your neck, his strong cologne and his deep chuckle whenever you managed to make him smile.
Maybe you could walk around the mall. You still had some birthday money and you could treat yourself a little. Maybe a new body cream or a pair of cute underwear from Victoria Secret to surprise your boyfriend after he was done with his classes. Yes, a shopping trip was exactly what you needed to stop thinking so much. Smiling, you walked to the bathroom of your faculty, just a quick detour to freshen up before you got into your car. 
You looked at yourself in the mirror and took out your lipstick, fixing it carefully.
“I fucking hate her.”
You turned around as you saw three girls entering the bathroom. They stood by your side, none of them seeming to notice your presence. One of them fixing her hair, another was looking down at her phone, eyebrows knitted together and mumbling more and more curses and the last one just leaned against the bathroom stalls, arms crossed against her chest as she watched the other two.
“We did tell you she wasn’t meant to be trusted,” she reminded the girl with the phone. When she raised her head, you recognized her as Pieck, one of Porco’s close friends, who you had seen around at a lot of parties and on many of his Instagram photos.
“How is that helping me?” Pieck asked icily.
“I’m just saying, Yelena is shady. Telling you all that crap about only being able to open up with you— and for what? For her to post photo after photo of her fuckboy?” the girl in front of the mirror said. “Like, nobody needs to know you’re getting it at the library, why post about it? Literally, nobody cares.”
“She’s not worth it,” the other girl interjected. 
“She really isn’t, babe. And Zeke isn’t even that hot,” her friend continued with a mocking laugh. “The one that looks like a clown is her, not you. Just let it go.”
“He truly is a bad case of the monkey face,” Pieck agreed with a snort. “Men like that are what keep me a lesbian.”
“Hi Pieck,” you greeted her. For the first time, Pieck looked your way and widened her eyes, recognizing you in an instant.
“Hey,” she said in an apologetic voice. “I— I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.”
You faked a chuckle. “It’s okay. I just wanted to say you shouldn’t worry about them, Yelena is—”
“Yeah, yeah, we both shouldn’t worry. You’re probably trying to move on and ignore them too,” Pieck sighed and then pursed her lips in discomfort. “But I know you were Zeke’s girlfriend for a while, it’s normal you don’t want to hear about who he’s fucking now—”
“Zeke and I are still together,” you interrupted her.
Pieck’s face fell at your words. She looked at her friends, who were also looking at each other with an indecipherable expression. Your furrowed your eyebrows, confused as to why they were sharing those glances. Why would they think you weren’t with Zeke? Sure, you hadn’t posted photos with him lately but that didn’t mean you weren’t together anymore.
“I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Pieck said softly to her friends. They nodded and said they would be by the cafeteria before leaving. Once they went away, Pieck closed the bathroom door and walked to you again.
“Why— why would you think we’re not together?” you insisted, your voice trembling more than you would have wanted.
“Yelena and Zeke are fucking,” she sentenced in a soft voice. You shook your head.
“I know that’s what it looks like but Yelena likes women,” you said. “You— I mean you guys were dating or something, right? You know she’s a lesbian, she’s just pretending to have something with Zeke so her parents back off for a while.”
Pieck’s silence was deafening.
“Right?” you pushed. “It’s cool because she’s a lesbian and—”
“Yelena is bisexual.”
You paused, blinking as you tried to understand. After a few seconds, you shook your head.
“She’s not.”
“The reason we’re not dating anymore is because I saw her fucking Zeke at a party,” she explained.
“No,” you said, and shook your head once more. “No, because if it happened at a party then someone would have seen them. Someone would have noticed, there would have been rumours, I would have  known . Pieck, someone would have told me, Reiner, Marcel, Porco—”
“They weren’t there. Almost everyone was a senior.”
“Then you! You would have told me,” you cried. “You’re telling me you saw my boyfriend fucking someone else and didn’t tell me!? Pieck—!”
“I thought you weren’t together anymore!” she defended herself. “What was I supposed to think when every single one of his friends at that shitty apartment knew he was fucking her in the bedroom and they all acted like it was a normal thing to do? I see all these photos of both of them and…” she continued, shaking her phone. “Of course I think he’s not with you anymore! Yelena is uploading pictures as she rests her legs on his lap, about their movie dates at his place and you want me to think she has a girlfriend!?”
Tears started falling from your eyes as she spoke. You sniffled, trying to compose yourself but you could feel every muscle of your body shaking.
“Does Porco know?” you asked in a whisper.
“Porco?”
“I know you two are best friends since high school. You— you had to tell him. If this was real, if this happened, you had to tell Porco,” you reasoned. “So tell me, Pieck, does Porco know?” you insisted, raising your voice, hating the way it cracked at the end.
Pieck shook her head. “I told him Yelena cheated on me, didn’t tell him with who.”
“Why?”
“Because he told me not to date Yelena, said she wasn’t a good person. I didn’t want to prove Porco right, you know him,” Pieck said with a small shrug.
You nodded idly, your eyes lost. No. It didn’t make sense, it didn’t— even if it did. It did make sense but it  couldn’t make sense. Because if Pieck was right, if Yelena and Zeke were—
No.
“Give me a date,” you whispered.
“What?”
“When was this?”
“I don’t— Two weeks ago?”
“I need to know the exact date, Pieck.”
“Girl, I don’t remember exactly, I—”
“Give me a date, Pieck!” you sobbed, raising your voice. She sighed and nodded, taking out her phone.
You watched as Pieck went through her messages with Yelena, scrolling up as she tried to remember the date. Your breath was hitching, inhaling more than you were exhaling but you didn’t care. You wanted to know when it was. Pieck was going to tell you it happened on a date where he was with you. She was going to say it happened one of the nights you and Zeke stayed the weekend at his place and then you would know she’s lying. Yes, that was going to happen. She would tumble over her own lie and this nightmare would be over.
“March 31st,” Pieck murmured. “I kept texting her, asking where she was before I went to look for her,” she reminisced, before showing you her phone.
.
.
                                                            00:36
                                                                                           lena where are u
                                                                                                            ?????
                                          why are my friends saying you’re with zeke rn
                                                                                         yelena answer me
                                                                                    fuck u i’m going there
                                                            01:19
 .
                                                FUCK YOU YELENA YOURE THE WORST
                                                                  PIECE OF SHIT IVE EVER MET
                                                                            REALLY???? ZEKE?????
                                                                           HOPE YOU GET HERPES
                                                                                 I FUCKING HATE YOU
babe, i’m sorry
can we talk?
.
A bitter taste crept inside your mouth as you took out your phone and went through yours and Zeke’s messages, looking desperately for the date. It was the weekend you spent together. It had to be. The memories of Zeke’s kitchen calendar that said April were lying to you. It had to be March. Or maybe he changed the calendar because he was with you on March 31st.
You scrolled up until March and went to read the messages exchanged on that day.
.
.
                                                            07:23
.
Good morning! I know it’s really early
But I want to see you today <3
Meet me at the tennis court?
                                                                                  sure, i’ll take an uber :)
.
.
Silent sobs escaped your mouth as your phone started shaking in your trembling hands. Pieck whispered apologies and you wanted nothing more than to tell her to shut up, that it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t the one that swore she wanted to marry you and then went to fuck someone else at a party, not caring if he was seen or not.
But it wasn’t true. Zeke said it was just a ruse, that Yelena just wanted to hide her queerness, that they were just good friends. He said so. Pieck had to be lying, she had to be. She was just messing with you, lying to see how much you could believe her. Because Zeke wouldn’t do that, you were the one he trusted, you were the one he was going to marry, you—
Pieck was still holding her phone in front of you.
With the very same date.
And Yelena admitting her crime.
But it couldn't be right. There had to be a mistake because Zeke loved you. He loved you and he had told you about his family, he had taken you to meet his grandparents, he promised he hadn’t kissed Yelena that night, he—
Had he not kissed her?
Was it only a movie night?
No, it hadn’t.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Pieck’s voice sounded far, your lips parted as you tried to gasp for air. You lifted your head and saw her lips moving but you couldn’t hear any sound but your heart beating out of your chest. Tingles started creeping on your fingers and without you being able to do anything to prevent it, you dropped your phone on the bathroom floor.
Why didn’t it make a sound?
Why were your fingers numb?
You lifted your head and Pieck was gone. Dismissing her sudden disappearance, you crouched down and picked your phone. You winced at the huge crack on your screen and slid your finger several times over it until you could press on Zeke’s contact and call him.
As his phone rang, you pressed your back on the wall, slowly sinking until you were sitting on the floor.
“Baby, I told you I was studying for this test, I can’t—”
“I know about you and Yelena,” you said in a broken voice. You heard him let out an annoyed sigh on the other line.
“Didn’t we talk about this already? I told you she’s not—”
“I know about the party. The day we played baseball and— that same night you went to a party and fucked her,” you sobbed. You wiped the tears on your face with the back of your hand. “Zeke, tell me it’s a lie, tell me you didn’t do this, please,  please  tell me you didn’t really fuck Yelena,” you begged. “Please.”
“You know what? Get some help. Like, psychological help. This isn’t normal.”
The silence after Zeke hung up choked you. Your chest rose up and down as you sobbed uncontrollably. Your brain was screaming. Loudly. ‘Make it stop,’ you told yourself. ‘Get it together. Make it stop.’
Make it stop.
                         Make it stop.
                                                 Make it stop.
                                                                         Make it stop.
                                                                                                 Make it stop.
 It’s a lie.
                                                                                                  Make it stop.
He lied to you.
                                                                                                              Stop.
He fucked her.
                                                                                                 Please, stop.
He lied.
                                                                                              I can’t breathe.
.
.
                                             Inhale.
                                                                            Exhale.
                                            Inhale.
                                                                            Exhale.
                                            Inhale.
                                                            Inhale. 
                                                            Inhale. 
                                                            Inhale.
.
.
When you woke up, Porco was there.
Your head felt heavy as you tried to sit up, rubbing your eyes. A quick look around let you know you were in your apartment but you weren’t sure as to  how , or why your friend was there, his phone on his lap and his eyes looking at you filled with worry.
He whispered your name as if his voice could hurt you. “How are you feeling?”
“What are you doing here?” you asked groggily. You noticed your throat was hurting as well. “What hour is it?” you mumbled as you palmed your jean pockets looking for your phone. You found it hidden between two pillows and pressed the power button, trying to see if you had any unread messages.
None.
“Pieck called me,” Porco explained. “And it’s eight and a half.”
Pieck. Pieck with her friends in the bathroom, Pieck with the text messages. Everything came back to you in a second and you couldn’t help but wince at the way your head hurt.
“How are you feeling?” he insisted. You took a deep breath. The small movement made you realize how much the muscles of your back were hurting along with your arms. You licked your lips, hating how dry they felt against your tongue.
“I broke my phone.”
Porco furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”
“I— I dropped it. There’s a crack on the screen.”
He nodded slowly and looked down at his shoes, his forearms resting on his knees. You could almost listen to his loud thoughts, one coming after another inside his head. Porco sighed and turned his head back to you.
“Want me to get it fixed? Marcel knows a guy, I’m sure he can get it done by tomorrow.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s working just fine,” you said, passing your thumb over the crack. “No need to change it.”
Porco watched your eyes get lost on the dark screen and tightened his lips. He had the urge to throw your phone out of your window, make you understand you had to leave it, that it wasn’t good for you, that you didn’t need it, that you didn’t need  him —
Instead, he nodded.
“What happened?” you asked.
Porco paused, deliberating his words before speaking. “Pieck called and told me what you guys talked about and that… you didn’t take it well. She said you were crying and— that you had a panic attack, so she left the bathroom to look for help. She found Armin and he was the one that helped you regain your breath. Once you settle down, he called Annie to tell her what happened and she picked you up. When I got here you were already asleep on the couch, Annie said it was okay if I waited here.”
“I… don’t remember much,” you confessed with a grimace. “I don’t remember Armin helping me out. I— I do remember what Pieck and I talked about, though. Wish I could forget it instead,” you snorted. 
“Wanna talk about it?”
You shook your head.  Ouch . Why did every muscle of your body hurt so much?
“Wanna watch some shitty reality TV?” he offered. He didn’t miss the way a small smile appeared on your face.
In a matter of minutes, Porco had gone into your room and brought your laptop, and started looking for the show on Netflix. He put your laptop on his thighs and let you crawl by his side, your head resting against his shoulder.
“Wish they had Ink Master,” you sighed, as the intro of Netflix’s newest reality show played on your screen.
“We both know Netflix doesn’t have good shows.”
You snorted. “Black Mirror is good.”
“And yet we’re watching The Circle,” Porco teased you.
“Weren’t you the one that binged Season 1 on one night and then asked me to do the same so you could rant?” you reminded him with a playful tone.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied nonchalantly, making you chuckle.
What followed next was a comfortable silence. One episode went by and Porco made no attempts to stop it from automatically playing the second episode. You snuggled closer, the fabric of his green jacket feeling nice against your cheek. How long had it been since you felt so much peace with someone else by your side?
In any other situation, you would be commenting on it, pressing pause just to bitch and rant about the contestants or make quick runs to the kitchen. But Porco was sitting still, his eyes fixed on the screen and his arms crossed in front of his chest. He was trying to comfort you the best way he could, knowing any words would fail, he aimed to create a safe space for you and not force you to behave normally when you both knew better than to completely ignore what had happened earlier.
Right. Zeke.
You felt your eyes watering and bit the inside of your cheek to prevent them from falling down. Focusing on your breath, you inhaled and exhaled rhythmically until the knot in your throat seemed to loosen up. Your feelings towards Zeke were confusing, a part of you wanting to run, look for him and demand an explanation. Another part of you wanted to face with, punch his stupid little face until you got tired and leave him on the floor. And another, maybe a bigger part of you wanted him to cradle you in his strong arms, kiss your temple and scratch your skin with his beard as he whispered sweet nothings to you.
You swallowed. Maybe Zeke was right. Maybe you did need psychological help.
Could you trust his words if he were to provide another explanation? Could you ever trust in him again? Most of all, could you trust yourself? Many voices had different opinions inside your head, yet they all agreed on something.
You were miserable.
“Every time I’m not with him, I’m anxious,” you mumbled, the words leaving your mouth before you thought them over. Porco moved his hand to pause the show, but you gestured to him not to. “And when he’s with me…” you continued, “I feel like I’m drowning.”
Your voice cracked at the end. Porco’s hand twitched, not sure what to do next. Should he hold you, put an arm around your shoulder to comfort you? Should he not move a muscle until you were done? Should he offer a word of comfort? He turned his head to you and noticed tears were silently streaming down your face.
“If Zeke was in front of me right now and told me Pieck lied her ass off, even after all the proof she showed me today… I would believe him. I would,” you sobbed. “And I hate myself so much for it. I’m so tired of this, I’m so tired of loving him, Pock.”
Porco’s hand cupped your head, his fingers gently caressing your hair. You snuggled closer to him, his perfume soothing the pain inside your heart and his gentle gesture comforting you. That was the magic Porco had. You knew he wasn’t always good with his words and most of the time he preferred to show rather than tell and boy, did he do a spectacular good job at showing you how much he cared.
He was there. Even after you had been ignoring him for over two weeks, he was here with his green jacket and his earthy-scented perfume ready to hold you if you needed him. And you did. You could never think of a moment where you wouldn’t want him to be there with you. 
You wiped your face with the back of your hand and reluctantly pulled away from his touch, turning on your seat so you were facing him. You paused your show and put a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“Thank you,” you said, biting down your bottom lip. “For being here and waiting until I woke up. I— I’ve been such a bad friend to you,” you sighed. “I’m so sorry, I just—”
Porco shook his head. “No. I’m sorry for what I said the night I stayed here.”
“No, you don’t need to— I mean— I wasn’t mad about it,” you fumbled with your words, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“I don’t know,” Porco shrugged. “Felt like I made you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t,” you assured him. “Thank you for staying with me that night. I really didn’t want to be alone.”
“I just— Can I say something else? Promise this is the last time I talk about it.” You nodded. “I didn’t love you the first time I met you,” he blurted, shrugging. “I mean, it’s not like I saw you and caught feelings— first time I saw you you were drunk off your ass at Reiner’s party. I was your friend first. Still am, nothing will change that. And honestly? I wouldn’t be surprised if my feelings went away,” he chuckled. “Who knows. Might finally meet someone else and fall for them.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ll meet someone,” you agreed with a strained smile.
“Whatever happens, know that before anything else, I’m your friend,” Porco said, golden eyes setting on yours. “And that will never change. You’re stuck with me.”
“And you’re stuck with me.”
“See any other reason why I’m watching a shitty reality show on a Tuesday night?”
At this, you hit Porco with one of the pillows, square on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at his stunned face.
“You’re  so  fucked,” he said, putting the laptop on the coffee table in front of him.
You took this as a sign to run, the ache in your muscles forgotten at the back of your head as you tried to dodge the pillows Porco was throwing at you. Your legs weren’t weak anymore, as you quickly jumped to avoid the furniture and picked up one of the pillows to throw it back at him. Your heart was no longer aching, but jumping as you cackled when Porco tripped and fell. Even if your eyes were watering again, this time was due to the excessive laughter. And yes, your breath was hitching but it was thanks to Porco chasing you around the living room.
You let yourself fall on the floor next to Porco, the coldness of the floor soothing your skin as he dramatically held his knee against his chest like an injured soccer player. You turned your head to him, smiling at his antics as he filled your heart with happiness once  more.
Maybe that had been his power all along.
283 notes · View notes
noahstayed · 4 years ago
Note
Sorry if you've already answered these questions but I still want to ask them so...
1) Are you going to make another book after Earthshine?
(If the answer is yes; (and you don't have to answer this one,) Are you going to do a time skip or will you go the 'the condom broke'?)
2) Will Edward have a mate (If yes; will you create an OC or simply pluck a character from the twilight saga archives are revamp them?)
3) If you do make a version of Breaking Dawn, will it have the same premise (Ie. Wedding, Honeymoon, (I typed hUMANmoon and then corrected it, don't know why my fingers went there.) surprise pregnancy (or not? Because Carlisle is a DOCTOR) turning, then the Volturi going all "We must kill the child!"?)
4) With regards to question three, in the (honestly, and sadly, unlikely) ( completely forgot what word I was going to type, and It as too much trouble to type that so I'm just going to use another word that won't flow as well) situation (I'm so unhappy with this word, my stomach is turning something fierce, man.) that you DO go the standard "with the other book as a very, very, loose guideline) Would you go the route of OYH or would make an entirely new plot?
Also, if you do go with the same general outline, (which is unlikely since Irina isn't with Laurant in newmoon but with Charlie, so there's no bitter feelings and she won't immediately go to the kings before she's heard Carlisle's explanation.) How would you make that work?
5) I know you said that if you do make a fourth book you would just use the dhampire from OYH, Elisha, does that still reign true? Or are you planning to make a new character entirely?
6) If you do make a fourth, and go the OYH route, would you still make Elisha Emse's mate, like in OYH? Or will you go with Garette?
7) Also, since you have previously made an ff about Garette and Bella having a brother-sister type friendship would we see that and get to see Garette claim her as his sister and charlie as his father, and everyone goes along with it? (Honestly, I REALLY want this to happen, especially since I've spent the last hour scrolling through your tumbler and stumbled upon the 'I'm older than my father' post.)
8) Really, all these questions border on the main one of "is there going to be a breaking dawn/part 4-5 (depending) in your rewrite?" but if you do, would Carlisle buy Isle Bella as a honeymoon present of would that be in the oneshots book (that you'll hopefully be writing after this is over) as like a "Have fifteenth anniversary" thing?
9) Are you going to write a book full of random one-shots you couldn't fit into your story? I REALLY HOPE SO.
enthusiastically hope so. :) (that's really a tense smile with eyes SHINING with hope. Just informing you that you'll be crushing my heart. Brutally. With a stake. No pressure :) )
10) If you don't write the fourth book will we get an epilogue with the wedding five years later? Like, with Bella being SUPER nervous?
And finally, 11) (I really want a war to showcase Bella's awesome vampire powers (because you've stated (in a previous Tumblr post) that you'd give Bella her BAMF!Bella OYH powers)) So if there's a part four, even though the Volturi is "lawful" and like, has a brain, in your series, can they like have a brain fart where they go. "He's making an army," Or just straight up CANNON!Aro with his need for power be like "It's an immortal child, and it needs to be destroyed." But really be thinking, "They're growing too large, already their numbers rival our own, they must be put down! This is the perfect time!" Like the (cowardly) power-hungry and villainess we all know and love. Kinda.
I have other questions but those can really wait lol.
I basically want breaking dawn and the third (Do you count Charlie's book as part of Bella's story or as a stand-alone since you weren't really progressing the plot very much (also a very good way to have a time skip in your main)?) isn't even done yet.
I don't know if you can tell, but I've been reading this series for three days straight (new fan!) and just started your OYH series and I'm just filled with a desire right now. Like, I typically hate sex scenes in a twilight book (but that's because I was a child when these movies came out (saw them all in theatre!) and still was when I read the books, so Bella is SACRED lol, and It just makes me uncomfortable to imagine her in those positions (it's like a trauma okay?) but I really enjoyed your stories (even if I basically glossed over your sex scenes and read through them quickly) and could actually sit through your sex scenes (mostly, because it wasn't INTENSE! Like, a lot of rewrites turn breaking dawn into literal Porn and sully the books for me because they basically remove a lot of plot to make room for Bella's sudden appetite, and while, yes, you gave her an appetite and... I am just really enjoying your stories and how you write so Thank You.
Okay, I've let you know your appreciated and put out my question into the tumblr universe so now I just have to wait for you to see this and maybe respond.
I hate waiting.
I haven't gotten an ask in a while and AJKHFJKHD Listen!! THE FACE I MADE AT HOW LONG THIS IS??? Superb!! I'm honored you've taken the time to write this all out so I'm gonna try to answer you as best as I can!!
Right now I'm 100% sure that there will be a couple of Novellas/Novelettes directly after Earthshine. The Renee Story, the Charlie Story, and the Roommate Story which all will get maybe 40k and mini plots that are far more focused than Charlie's first story. Charlie's new story will be focused on his relationship with Carlisle too, so that should be fun!
Edward having a Mate is still up in the air at the moment. Since he is still very young, I don't see the need to really give him someone so quick when other characters have waited WAAAY longer. As for who it might be, that's also still up in the air in case I want to do a short story with him that's a part of a series of Novellas after the main books
If I do make a BD rewrite IT WILL have wedding/honeymoon/surprise pregnancy then it will PRETTY MUCH go off the rails from there because the Pregnancy will be VASTLY different. Carlisle is a Doctor and Bella isn't an idiot. They won't be in Washington either.
Again. The first half will be loosely based on the book and then just go completely off the rails because, Like you said, the Volturi have brains and I LOATHE an 'idiot' plot where people are required to suddenly become stupid for the story to work. As for the OYH route, I will be borrowing a couple elements from OYH but the conflict will be very different.
Elisha is baby and there's no way I could make another Dhampir at this point. Not with how much I love him.
The aging process will work differently in this fic for Dhampirs, so this question is irrelevant since Elisha will be a child for the entire fourth book. As for when he's older, Its still up in the air for this series. He deserves to be baby and I very much dislike the trope of age faster = mentally develop faster because that's BS.
We'll see, I love Bella and Garrett, but there's A LOT I'll have to cram into the last book so we'll just see.
As much as I'd love to answer this, I'm covering the honeymoon in the fourth book so you'll see what happens in there ; )
I HAVE PLANS for random one shots. I REALLY DO. I just has so little time to work on the main story so I might write some when Earthshine is done! I have a name for the one-shot collection already too and some Ideas!
I very much plan to write the fourth book you'll be fine. Bella will not be nervous, she'll be WAY more anxious about it going right. Mostly her nerves will be from anticipation and excitement because she'll be 23 and be very secure in her forever with Carlisle.
There will be a fight in book four that will not have the Volturi turning stupid. Don't worry about how.
Charlies little story is a Novella so I don't count it as a book.... GOD hearing you plowed through the series in so short a time is MIND boggling. I get people telling me this occasionally and I NEVER stop being amazed by it!
As for the sex scenes, yeah, I didn't want this to be erotic literature. I frequently scream that 'THIS ISN'T A SMUT BOOK' because them having sex is just a normal healthy thing that happens in relationships and wanted to show that. The sex scenes I write tend to be glossed over anyways so I'm glad it was readable for you. I get feeling frustrated and wanting more plot, but there are plenty of people who prefer the very explicit smut.
If sex scenes aren't your cup of tea, that's fine. I don't view Bella as pure and innocent though. It teeters dangerously on the Madonna/Whore dichotomy to act like she is. I get wanting to preserve the innocence of your childhood through her. That's not me though. Bella/Carlisle's relationship is highly sexual in nature within SoG and that's ALRIGHT too!
Thanks for the super long ask!!! it was great to read and fun to respond to!
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lost-in-purgaytory · 4 years ago
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Dean Winchester’s Lonely Ex-Boyfriend Club (AO3) 
​Description: Ficlet. Dean and Cas are getting married! Pretty much everyone they ever met is attending, and that includes exes - some react more maturely than others. Inspired by all the headcanons I have seen about Benny and Crowley at the wedding. Some background about Dean/Benny in Purgatory, bitter Crowley, implied wedding hookups, and of course some cute Dean/Cas fluff.
“So… finally settling down with that angel of yours now, are you?” Benny teased in his soft voice, leaning on the bar.
Dean took a swig of his perfectly ice-cold heaven beer and looked over his shoulder with a fond smile at Cas, who was dancing wildly with Charlie and Gabriel, margarita in hand and wearing approximately half a button up shirt.
“Looks like it,” Dean sighed proudly and shook his head at how unbelievably lucky he was (now that he thought about it, how unbelievably sappy he was too). He huffed a short laugh through his nose at his damn happy self and took another sip of his drink.
Benny appraised him thoughtfully. “Well, you sure look happy.”
Dean nodded and tucked his chin down sheepishly, eyes crinkling. “You know, I really am, man. I really am.”
It was surreal how happy he was, actually - totally foreign and amazing. It wasn’t like he never had a happy moment before in his life, he’d had several, but there was always this voice in the back of his head saying ‘this is only temporary’ and ‘you’ll lose this - probably sooner rather than later.’ But that little voice was gone now. For the first time, Dean was truly at peace. Like some kind of zen master, appreciating every god damn second of his hopeful eternity. There was some real hippie shit going on inside of him right now.
“It was a long freakin’ road getting here,” Dean continued, lost in his own amazement, completely starry-eyed. “I mean, you were there for part of it, so you have some idea. But I never thought… I mean, damn…"
Benny’s signature smirk didn’t waver, but there was a sadness in it too. “And here I thought you were lovesick before, mate,” he joked.
“Oh, shut up,” Dean smiled back, actually having to fight off a blush thinking back to all those times Benny teased him about his affections for Cas back in purgatory - affections which Dean vehemently denied at the time (kinda hard to do when you're crying out a dude's name in your sleep every damn night).
Dean took another large swig of beer, as Benny’s gaze intensified over him - humor and a hint of soulful longing. Exes at the wedding, man… awkward.
But Benny was family, who earned his spot in Dean’s life and his invite to the wedding… just as much as any other guest; more than some of the other guests actually. Like Crowley, for example who was nursing a tumbler of whisky a couple seats over.
If it wasn’t for Benny fighting by his side so loyally as a trusted friend, through the muck and the dark, Dean might never have found Cas in purgatory.
And if Dean was being completely honest with himself (which he was trying to make a habit of, nowadays), Benny helped him in more ways than one. Turns out Dean had needed a big strong vamp with an accent to lead him into some no-strings-attached temptation in purgatory. Under pretense, of course, to maintain plausible deniability.
'Come on boy, we've both got needs and we're not exactly flush with options in this wasteland.’
'We gotta let off some steam every now and again if we wanna stay sharp.’
'What happens in purgatory, stays in purgatory.'
‘Nothing to be ashamed of, love. And don't worry, I won't bite. Unless you ask nicely.’
Apparently, Dean needed that nudge to help him let go of some of that inner shame that kept him from truly accepting that he was attracted to men. And more importantly, Cas.
It probably wasn't normal to invite your ex-vampire fuck buddy to your heaven wedding to your angel best friend, but when had his life ever been normal?
Benny was a crucial player in putting Dean on the right path, into the arms of his angel. And that was all that mattered, so Dean was grateful.
Benny’s constant teasing about Dean being in love with his ‘mysterious angel boyfriend’ made him come to terms with the fact that he had real (scary) feelings for Cas that couldn’t be denied, and made him realize (too late) that he was in love with Cas, as the portal spat him out with Cas still trapped on the other side.
Not too late, he realized suddenly, looking back over his shoulder, floored by the easy smile on his Cas's face as he spun Claire in a circle, in a clumsy imitation of swing dancing. He would have to interrupt soon and teach Cas some real swing-dancing, get some more one-on-one time with his husband.
His goddamn husband.
“I must say…" Benny interrupted Dean's thoughts before they could drift into a domestic daydream, "there were plenty of times I thought, Dean buddy, Hot-Wings clearly aint worth all this trouble,” he shook his head affectionately. “But lookin’ at you now, I figure I was wrong. Happy looks good on you, my friend.”
“Thanks, man,” Dean beamed, holding up his beer for a toast. Benny clinked their glasses together amicably.
“Oh spare me,” Crowley grumbled next to them. “If I have to hear one more heartfelt expression of love and respect, I might just puke all over this cute little reception.”
They both collectively ignored him. Crowley took this as a signal to down the rest of his drink and order a refill with a demanding snap of his fingers.
"Your angel better treat you right," Benny said, politely flagging for a refill of his own.
"No doubts about that," Dean assured.
Suddenly, Cas was at his side, tugging at his sleeve. "Dean!" Cas enthused. Instinctively, Dean tucked him closer into his side and gazed lovingly down at Cas and his endearingly excited expression. "Claire is setting up something called 'limbo' - the dance, not the metaphysical plane. I'm not exactly sure what it entails but I am told it is a tradition."
"Damn right, it's a tradition!" Dean grinned. He couldn't wait to watch Cas do the limbo. Oh, and they had to do conga line at some point. There were still so many human things he wanted to show Cas. A lifetime of things. "Wish my knees weren't so fucked. The limbo's one of the rare things I completely suck at."
Cas cocked his head and squinted his eyes, in the most beautifully Cas way. "This is heaven, Dean. You no longer have any physical ailments or limitations."
Dean pondered that for half a second. "Well, in that case…" he pulled Cas in closer and placed a kiss beneath his ear. Cas melted into him and Dean couldn't wait to get him alone after the festivities, their honeymoon could last for eternity if they so desired. "Might as well take these bad boys for a test drive."
Dean, blissfully happy, dragged his equally blissful husband to the dancefloor, completely forgetting his manners and leaving Benny chuckling at the bar without so much as a 'see you around'.
"Typical, is it not?" Crowley drawled, swirling his drink. "Fool takes one look at that bloody angel and disappears."
"I hate to tell you this, pal," Benny said, sauntering into Crowley's space. "But the jealous ex at a wedding doesn't usually get much sympathy."
"I'm nobody's jealous ex!" the demon growled.
"My mistake," the vampire returned flirtatiously. "Six tequila shots for me and my new friend, please," he ordered casually, without taking his eyes off Crowley.
Crowley raised his eyebrows questioningly, looking Benny up and down with new intrigue.
Benny shrugged. "Open bar. No point sulkin' around all evening." He pushed a shot glass in front of Crowley with his knuckle. "Aren't demons supposed to be the life of the party?"
"You should know I take challenges very seriously..." Crowley threatened, a smile gracing the corner of his lips for the first time all day.
"Countin' on it."
"Well then. To being the life of the party," Crowley announced suavely, lifting the glass from the bar.
"Cheers," Benny agreed, and they downed the hatch.
If they snuck off together at any point during the evening, nobody noticed, too busy paying attention to the happy couple.
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rohan025700 · 3 years ago
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SIX ROMANTIC PLACES TO VISIT IN GOA FOR HONEYMOON
The tiny state of India, Goa offers plenty of opportunities to you and your better half to create beautiful memories together with your Goa tour package for couples. Whether you desire a private and enjoyable exclusive holiday or you want to have fun under the glitzy sky, Picnicwale curates the best Goa Honeymoon Package for couples.
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Best Time to Visit Goa For Honeymoon
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• Thalassa:
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This place is pretty famous among the couples on their honeymoons. Rocky cliffs standing tall towards the sturdy waves of the Arabian Sea, Thalassa is dotted with several world-magnificence eating places and old fashioned cafes. These eateries serve a number of the maximum delectable seafood dishes. An excellent manner to unwind in your Goa honeymoon package.
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renaerys · 5 years ago
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PPG One-Shot: Alone Together (Brick/Blossom)
This is a ten-years-later sequel to Beyond This Morning (BTM). It’s not the official sequel; it just takes place in the same universe. You do not have to have read BTM to fully enjoy this, but it rewards you if you have.
This one is for Carrie. Not only is she an awesome friend and a stalwart enabler, but she also did a very entertaining live reading of BTM and I owe her, like, a lot. Shoutout to the IG squad too. Y’all are the best fandom ever, period. Have a spicy Reds cookie on me with a side of family shenanigans. 💁
***Also posted on my AO3.***
xxx
The night was gold dust and gossamer, the liquor an oak barrel scotch neat, and Blossom had nothing but time. She savored the smoke as the swallowed her scotch and smiled at her reflection in the mirror behind the cherrywood bar. The amber lamplight softened her long red hair, and the liquor’s burn made her pink eyes glisten with a liminal haze in between sensual and soporific. Even the patrons’ voices were nothing but a heady hypnosis far away and standing guard between her and the chaotic world beyond. She could hardly remember what peace and quiet felt like, and she’d sooner be drunk on this serenity than the Lagavulin.
“Enjoying yourself?”
Blossom’s stomach clenched at the sound of that mellifluous voice directly behind her. His body heat radiated like an active volcano: simmering and still right now, but not for long. “I was,” she quipped.
A slim body slipped into the barstool next to hers. The tailored suit did him every favor, as did the rare lack of a tie that allowed for a more lax treatment of his shirt buttons. Liquid crimson eyes held her in his crosshairs, and she froze.
“Blossom,” he said, setting his own drink on the bar with an air of permanence.
“Brick.” The scotch burned Blossom’s throat going down, but not hot enough.
His grin betrayed a hint of teeth, white and sharp.
“Can I get you anything?” the attractive bartender asked Blossom.
“You can bring him another,” she said.
“I’ll take a glass of the Bordeaux.” Brick pushed his empty tumbler toward the bartender.
“Of course.” The bartender cleared the old glass, and neither Brick nor Blossom spared him a glance.
“How about now?” Brick asked while the bartender disappeared to retrieve his wine.
Blossom’s eyes lingered on the styled bangs that hung in his heartbreaking eyes. “I’ll let you know.”
The bartender returned with Brick’s wine and left them alone to their universe. His adroit fingers held the wine glass’ delicate stem with intention and care as he swirled it. Blossom bit her lip.
“What brings you here?” he asked like he didn’t care even as his gaze trailed down the plunging neckline of her little black dress.
She grasped his chin and lifted his gaze to hers with a sly smile. “Rare night off.”
His eyes burned as she dragged her thumb over his bottom lip, and when she tried to pull away, he caught her wrist. “Lucky me.”
“That’s presumptuous.”
He laughed, and she felt it in every buzzing cell in her body. “Liar.”
This close, Blossom could smell his cologne. Just when she thought he might come closer though, he released her and went back to his wine like it was the most interesting thing in this bar. Despite herself, she twirled a tress of hair around her finger and silently counted to five while she waited for her heartbeat to return to normal.
“What about you?” she asked, returning to her drink. “What brings you out tonight?”
He grinned as he took a savoring sip of wine. In the warm jeweled lighting, the few threads of grey in his burnished copper hair gleamed silver. “Apparently, I’m turning 40.”
“And this is how you’re celebrating? Drinking alone at a bar?”
“Looks like it.”
Blossom ignored the way his eyes lingered on her profile. “What about your brothers?”
“Probably at home with their families. Married with kids, you know how it goes.”
“Mm. I’m drinking alone at a bar too.”
“Right, a rare night off, you mentioned.”
Blossom ran her finger over the rim of his wine glass. Tiny frostlings crept down the glass like ivy. “Well, then,” she said, plucking the glass out of his hand and taking a full sip of the chilled wine, “I suppose we’re alone together.”
Brick’s thumb at the corner of her mouth was so warm she gasped. It was gone as soon as it had appeared, and the drop of wine he’d caught along with it. Blossom watched as he brought the digit to his mouth and licked it clean.
“I suppose we are,” he said, breaking the hypnotic pull.
Blossom flushed. She supposed she deserved that one.
“Can I get you two anything else?” the bartender asked politely.
Blossom flashed him a curt smile. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough for one night. Please send the bill to my room.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She got up and gathered her clutch and phone. The entire time, Brick watched her like she might catch fire if he looked away.
“Brick,” she said primly.
“Blossom,” he returned. “Turning in?”
“It’s late.”
He ran his finger over the rim of his wine glass, and the frost vines evaporated under his touch. “Is it? I lost track of the time.”
“Well, you still have a couple hours left of your birthday. I’m sure you’ll find some way to enjoy them.”
“I’m sure I will.”
With that, she left him to his wine and headed for the elevator that would take her to the topmost floor, where she had rented a room for the evening. A honeymooning couple giggled as they dashed into the elevator after her, holding hands and dolled up to the nines as they whispered to each other and completely ignored Blossom. She smiled and moved to the far corner to give them some space.
But before the doors closed, a hand shot in between them and forced them back open. Brick sauntered into the elevator and perched against the back wall next to Blossom, but he didn’t say a word or even look at her. In his defense, the young couple making out like it was their last night on Earth commanded attention. Their soft giggles and sweet words reached Blossom’s Super hearing, and she bit her tongue not to laugh.
Finally, after nearly thirty floors, the doors opened and the honeymooners flooded out, nearly tripping over their skirts as they stumbled down the hall to their room and fumbled for the key rather poorly. Blossom followed them out, and Brick followed her at a sedate pace.
“Young love,” she quipped as she arrived at her room at the end of the hall.
“Disgusting,” Brick said.
“Now who’s the liar?” She opened the door on the first try as the honeymooners’ laughter grew louder in their repeated failed attempts.
Before she could push the door open, Brick’s hand closed over hers on the knob. Warm lips pressed against the shell of her ear, and she shivered. “Caught me.”
Blossom couldn’t hide her smile anymore and yanked him inside with a burst of Super strength that sent him crashing into the wall with a crack. She pinned him by the wrists before he could move and pressed herself flush against him. “Damn right I did.”
He came alive when she kissed him. Red sparks jumped in between them as he pushed back against her, but she didn’t offer an inch as she shackled him to the wall and held him there for her pleasure for a few glorious seconds. A low growl was her only warning before he got serious and used his explosive Super strength against her. Blossom gasped when her back met the opposite wall.
“We used to be like them,” he said, his voice husky with their kiss and their power.
“You and I?” Blossom ran her hands over his face, in his soft hair she loved even more with its silver veins. “We’re not like anyone.”
Like a struck match, Brick ignited above her and kissed her hard. Her hands fumbled at his belt as he slid her underwear down and off beneath her black skirt. They didn’t even bother with the rest, too intoxicated with the night and the memories and each other to waste another minute. Super or not, there was something incredibly hot about how he could lift her up with his bare hands and hold her there against the wall as he fucked her like they were ten years younger and just as desperate for each other.
“You’re goddamn right we’re not,” Brick said as he pushed in deeper. “Fuck, Blossom—”
The plaster cracked behind her, and it went straight to her core as she tightened her grip around his narrow waist and yanked his hair back so she could kiss him properly.
“You want me,” she said, breathy and crumbling with every move he made.
“Yes,” he moaned against her lips.
“You love me—ah!”
He bit her bottom lip hard, the cheater. “More than anything.”
Blossom whimpered as he held her just right to melt in his arms. Ecstasy: every moment, every touch, every Earth shattering push. He knew her precipice so well it was nothing to plunge her over it and catch her as she fell. With a shudder, she kissed his ear, his temple, his mouth. “You chose me.”
Heat seared her thighs where he held her, and his gorgeous eyes held hers at the expense of all others. “You’re my wife,” he said.
Blossom’s pride flared at that spell in his voice, as powerful as the first time he had ever cast it, and she rewarded him with a clenching embrace that broke him. With a muffled cry, he buried his face in her neck and bit down as he came. The air shimmered around them, Super heated, and Blossom summoned frost to her lips and fingertips as she threaded them through his hair and whispered softly.
After a few moments, his grip loosened and she slipped back to the floor still in her strappy heels. She appraised the entrance to their hotel room: a wrecking ball may have checked in for the night in their stead. “We didn’t even make it past the threshold.”
His laugh came out more like a wheeze as he fixed his pants and leaned one arm on the cracked wall to catch his breath. “Your act worked a little too well on me.”
“The role-play was your idea.”
His gazed trailed down her figure. “No wonder it was perfect.”
Blossom ran her hand over his chest, damp with sweat. One by one, she popped the buttons off his red dress shirt. “Satisfied already?”
With every button she popped off, his face slackened as the afterglow faded and his desire for her returned with a vengeance. Blossom fought the urge to squirm under his heady gaze.
“That sounded like a challenge,” he said, physically straining not to grab her.
The last button was off, and Blossom ran her palms over his smooth skin to shoulders, pushing the shirt and his blazer off. “You know me so well.”
Before he could respond, she had his shirt off and flew him across the room in a blaze of pink, where he hit the bed with a whoosh. For as long as she lived, Blossom was sure she would never get tired of the absolute high she felt looming over her husband about to have her wicked way with him, and the unadulterated passion and pride with which he watched her doing it.
She pulled the tie out of her hair and let it tumble over her shoulder. Slowly, the straps of her dress slipped off, leaving her bare from the waist up. “Happy birthday, Brick.”
It was a miracle the guests in the room below theirs didn’t file a complaint with the front desk when the bed gave out.
xxx
Brick pulled his black Aston Martin into the circular driveway of Princess Morbucks’ seaside vacation home on the Sonoma coast. He cut the engine and sat there as Blossom finished texting a work email on her phone. When he didn’t budge, she put her phone away and looked at him quizzically.
“Brick?”
He sighed and leaned his head back against the black leather rest. “Do we have to go in there?”
Her fingers through his linen shirt were cool to the touch, and he repressed a shiver as she leaned close. “Are you pouting?”
There was a smile in her voice that he chose to ignore and grabbed her wrist. “Don’t tease me right now.”
She smiled for real and kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry. You know I love you.”
“And yet, here we are.”
“You say that like it��s a bad thing.”
“It’s my birthday weekend.”
“And the weekend is nearly over. Hey.” She touched his face and turned him toward her. “Are you okay?”
He searched her eyes for any hint of a ploy, but he found none. They were such a lovely shade of rose, unlike anything he had ever seen on another person, and they were honest. She had always afforded him her honesty since they became reacquainted, and for that, he would have given her anything she wanted. “I miss this,” he said, letting her see a glimmer of the vulnerability he was sadly so good at keeping under lock and key.
“What do you miss?” she asked.
“Us. Time. Our time. One weekend isn’t enough. We shouldn’t need some excuse to take off.”
She looked at him like she really heard him, but before she could respond, something Super-powered and little girl-sized hit the driver’s side window.
“Daddy! You’re back!”
Brick nearly jumped out of his own skin and coughed up smoke. Blossom was out the passenger side door faster than the naked eye could see, and she quickly yet carefully peeled her five-year-old daughter off the side of Brick’s beloved car.
“Hey, no hello for me, Briar?” Blossom hiked Briar up on her hip, and Briar blinked dark scarlet eyes far too savvy for her age.
“Maaaaaybe,” she said, aloof.
“Oh, I see how it is. Then I’ll just have to give you a big frosty kiss!”
Brick got out of his car and watched his grown-ass wife and mother of his children stoop to a five-year-old’s level and blow an icy raspberry on Briar’s neck, freezing half of her solid. Briar squealed in surprise or delight and leaped out of Blossom’s arms. She bent the ice off her skin to gather in her hands, and blew out even more with each peal of laughter as she began launching Super snowballs at Blossom.
Brick caught one that went awry in his bare hand before it could smack into his car, and it evaporated to steam almost instantly under his infernal power. “Briar, where’s your brother—oof!”
He got an armful of little girl wrapped up in a rose-red blur for his complacency and fell back on his ass. Instinct and old habits stoked furious fire in his lungs, but it fizzled to nothing as his daughter laughed and plied him with kisses, smearing pink lipstick all over his cheeks and chin.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he demanded. “Is that a tiara?”
“You bet your grumpy old ass it is.” Princess emerged from the house looking far too fabulous for a Sunday afternoon at home. “Swarovski crystal. You like?”
“I like!” Briar chimed in.
Blossom grinned. “She does look fabulous.”
Princess flipped her stupidly luscious hair. “In this house, every girl is a princess. I should know.”
Unfortunately, Blossom found that funny and laughed along with Princess. As convenient as it was that his best friend and his wife had become as thick as thieves over the years, it often resulted in a battle of the sexes that saw him giving up far too much ground to the both of them. Some wars, however, were not worth fighting. Not when they both looked at him like he’d won something by picking himself off the ground with Briar tucked under his arm like a Corgi.
“Oh Brick, that’s a great color on you,” Princess gushed. “Pink is the new black.”
“Please, pink never went out of style.” Blossom winked coyly at Brick, and his pathetic heart beat a little bit faster.
“God, you’re so right,” Princess said. “Listen to your mom, Briar. She’s the smartest person I know, and that’s saying something.”
Case in point, some wars were not worth fighting. Brick ignored the playful jab and wiped the pink lipstick smears off his face.
“Daddyyyyyy,” Briar whined.
“Don’t ‘Daddy’ me, Briar,” Brick said. But he took one look at her big scarlet eyes and her cute ponytail she insisted on growing out because she wanted to be as pretty as Mommy and Mommy was the prettiest girl in the whole world (which, true), and he caved like a bendy straw. “Fine.”
“Yes!” Briar flew out of his hold and plopped down on his shoulders like a queen on her throne, and Brick held her in place by her ankles.
“Oh, cheers, Briar.” Princess raised her wine glass to no one at all and took a satisfied sip.
“Hey, where’s Blaze?” Blossom asked.
“Who?” Princess said.
“Ha ha. Please tell me he didn’t burn anything down this time.”
Princess waved her off and headed back inside. “He’s fine, don’t worry. But he didn’t want me to dress him up for some totally insane reason. Am I right, Briar?”
“You’re always right, Aunt Prin!”
Brick rolled his eyes so hard he could see his brain short-circuiting in his skull. “Jesus Christ, what have I done.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you managed to make an impeccable daughter,” Princess quipped.
“Nope, that one’s on me,” Blossom said.
They laughed again, and Brick felt the small part of his soul that wasn’t bonded to Blossom’s wither and die.
“This way, Daddy.” Briar tugged on his perfectly styled hair to steer him left once they were past the foyer, and Brick automatically changed course.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Did you have a good time with Aunt Princess?”
“Uh-huh!”
“How many new clothes did she buy you?”
“Um, this many?” Briar waggled all ten of her fingers in his face.
“Cool,” he said.
Not cool.
Princess was single-handedly turning his children into fashion-forward little snobs. And while Brick would never abide any child of his looking like some snot-nosed, slobbering baby, a part of him worried whether he and Blossom were spoiling them too much. Blossom insisted it was fine so long as the gifts came from Princess and not from them, and they learned how to say thank you and pick only a few to keep from the vast collection so the rest could go to charity, so maybe it really was fine. He wouldn’t know, having never received much from his own father growing up, let alone a cool rich aunt.
In the living room, a skinny eight-year-old boy wearing a red baseball cap too big for his head slept on the leather sofa with his back to Brick and Briar when they entered. Brick checked behind him for any sign of Blossom, but she was obliviously chattering away in the kitchen with Princess, probably indulging in a glass of that rosé Princess had been drinking. Briar had fallen very quiet on his shoulders, and he squeezed her ankles conspiratorially.
Heat churned in Brick’s lungs, gathered pressure in his cheeks, and burst from his lips in a tight ball. His sleeping son’s arm shot up and caught the ball of fire before it could hit him in the back and incinerate the sofa. Briar whined in disappointment, like she’d wanted to see her big brother’s pants catch on fire.
“Hi, Dad.”
“It’s four in the afternoon, Blaze,” Brick said. “Why the hell are you sleeping?”
Blaze snuffed out the fireball and turned over on the sofa with a lazy yawn. He pulled off his cap that used to be Brick’s, scratched his short red hair, and slipped it on again backwards. Pretty, almost feminine fuchsia eyes blinked blearily up at his father and little sister towering over him.
“Aunt Prin made me heat up the pool this morning,” he said.
Of course she fucking would.
Leave it to Princess to choose swimming in an unheated pool over the goddamned ocean that was literally her backyard on a whim and putting his pyromantic son to work.
“Did she pay you?” Brick asked.
Blaze shrugged. “Nah. But she promised me a favor. Anything I want.”
Brick cracked a smile. “Well played.”
He was learning fast. Perhaps too fast. Oh well—he was Blossom’s son; she would have to deal with him when the time came.
A loud bark of laughter from the kitchen preceded a sharp and rather chilly tug on Brick’s hair. “What’s so funny?” Briar asked.
Brick took a deep breath and tried not to think about the damage his daughter’s ice powers were doing to his hair. “Let’s find out. Blaze, get your ass off that couch.”
Blaze got up with minimal grumbling, and Briar leaped from Brick’s shoulders to his. “Sleepy head!”
Blaze scrunched up his freckled face in a way that made him look his very young age despite all his best efforts. “Briar, quit it!”
“Make me!”
“I will.”
“Nuh-uh!”
“Yes-huh!”
“Nuh-uhhhhh!” Briar hugged him tight and burst with frost.
“My hair!” Blaze flashed fuchsia in a panic and shimmering heat rose from his shoulders, melting Briar’s ice. She laughed and took off flying, and he was quick to follow. “Get back here!”
Brick considered stopping them, decided it one hundred percent wasn’t his problem, and headed to the kitchen to grab a glass of Princess’ wine.
“Did you find Blaze?” Blossom asked when Brick entered the enormous marble kitchen.
Brick opened his mouth to respond when Briar and Blaze blasted into the kitchen in a burst of scarlet and fuchsia. Blossom dissolved in a blur of cotton candy pink and reappeared with two tiny Supers in each hand dangling from their collars.
“She started it!” Blaze exclaimed at the same time as Briar said, “He started it!”
“And I’m ending it,” Blossom said in a tone that brooked no argument. She looked between her two children, contrite and expecting her punishment.
Blaze looked to Brick for a lifeline, but he held his son’s gaze with unwavering indifference: if he was going to fuck around like a little baby, then he would be treated like a little baby.
“What do you say?” Blossom asked.
“Sorry,” Briar muttered.
Blaze wiped his nose. “Yeah, sorry Mom. Sorry Aunt Prin. We didn’t mean to almost wreck your house.”
Princess shrugged. “Whatever, kid.”
Brick shot her a withering look. “Really, though?”
Princess poured herself more wine.
Blossom caved like the sap she was and hugged her children close, showering them both with kisses. “I missed you guys!”
Blaze and Briar bravely put up with their mother’s effusive love for a few seconds until she put them down.
“Do you have something to say to your father?” Blossom asked.
Both Blaze and Briar beamed at Brick, and he repressed a cringe. “Happy birthday, Dad!” they said in creepy-cute unison.
Brick took one look at them and grabbed Princess’ arm. “Princess.”
“Say no more.” Princess poured him a generous glass of wine. Unfortunately, she also looped her arm around his and hugged him. “Happy birthday, hot stuff.”
“Kill me.” Brick downed his wine.
“You are so dramatic. Runs in the family, obviously,” Princess said. She kissed his cheek and wiped her red lipstick off after.
They hung out in the kitchen drinking wine while Blaze and Briar entertained themselves talking Blossom’s ear off about every single thing they did this long weekend. Like a champ, she listened and enthusiastically responded to it all, while Brick sighed and thanked whatever gods didn’t exist for the gift of wine and Princess.
When eventually Blaze climbed onto Brick’s lap and fell asleep again, Blossom decided it was time to leave. Brick carefully shoveled Blaze and Briar into the backseat of his Aston Martin and buckled them up. “Keep your shit under control,” he warned them.
Briar beamed. Her energy knew no limits. “Okay, Daddy!”
Blaze crossed his arms and promptly went back to sleep without a care in the world.
It took another ten minutes to pry Blossom away from Princess as they embraced and confessed their undying love for each other and, like, almost made out probably because there was nothing in the world better than a positive female friendship, as Blossom was fond of reminding him.
By the time they arrived at their suburban Citiesville home, Blaze and Briar were passed out cold. Once Brick and Blossom put them to bed, they sat together in the living room with a blanket between them.
“Hey,” Blossom said as she leaned against his side on the sofa admiring the garden through their floor to ceiling windows, “do you want to continue what we were talking about earlier? About there not being enough time for us?”
Brick sipped his wine. He had an arm around Blossom, and he could smell her perfume. “Not really.”
“Okay.”
They lapsed into silence for a bit, and Brick squeezed her shoulder. She said nothing. He shifted under the blanket. “I mean, I’m just saying.”
“Saying what?”
He scowled and ran a hand through his hair. Her stony gaze made him shiver. “I love them.”
“I know you do.”
“I would die for them.”
“I know you would.”
Brick gritted his teeth and looked her in the eye. “I’d die for you too.”
She touched his cheek and waited for him to meet her gaze. “You’ll never have to.”
“I know. You’re stronger than that.”
She held her breath and he held her. There were memories here, history, a trust they had bled for to earn. But he knew she meant it and so did he, and that was everything. He shuddered, weak like he never was with anyone but her.
“Yeah, I am,” Blossom said. “Hey.” She took his hand in hers and kissed his knuckles. “We have time. You have me. I love you so much, I can’t even catch my breath.”
“I know you do,” he said, his throat constricting.
“And if you want to take more time for us, we can do that. You just have to talk to me.”
“You’re busy, and the kids…”
Her fingers in his hair were a cool balm. He pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m not too busy for you. I love you, Brick.”
Her confession always floored him, no matter how many times she gave it. When he kissed her, she was soft and cool, and she kissed him back. “Let’s do it, then. Take more time. Not because it’s my birthday, but just because.”
“Okay. I’d like that.”
“Princess can take them.”
“Princess spoils them.”
“Who gives a fuck?”
Blossom laughed. “I do. Don’t be an ass.”
“Well, we need a nanny or something. Boomer and Bubbles can do it.”
“Boomer and Bubbles have their own kids.”
“So they have experience.”
Blossom laughed again and snuggled closer to him. “You’re terrible.”
“I’m right.”
Blossom sighed dramatically and buried her face in his chest. “I guess you are.”
He grinned and held her close. She smelled like lavender when he kissed her head. “Blossom.”
She smiled and snaked her hand around his neck. “Brick.”
When he kissed her, he gave her all of himself. How could he have lived for so long without her to share everything with? What would be the point?
“What do you think about the Seychelles?” Blossom asked.
“Hm?”
“We could go diving, lie on the beach, you know. Just…away.”
He pictured it: Blossom in a bikini on the white sand, greeting the sunset with champagne, or under the sea SCUBA diving with creatures most people could never even fathom in their lives. And he smiled. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
She kissed him softly, and she held his entire heart in her hands. “It’s a date.”
They spent the rest of the night in each others’ arms, alone together, and Brick couldn’t remember a better birthday in all his life.
xxx
Thanks for reading! 
***Trinity House is now live on AO3! Check out that fic if you enjoy my writing and want more PPG content. I hope to see you all there!***
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avictimofthejazz · 4 years ago
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Templeton Peck/A Dubious Partnership--Templetonpeckcangetit/Peggy Shippen
@templetonpeckcangetit​
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“Madam, your vote of confidence is overwhelming.” Templeton grumbled under his breath, attention fixated on the safe he was attempting to pick his way into. Under normal circumstances, the last person he wanted to associate with was the wife of the British Spyhunter General but since when could Templeton ever claim he acted under ‘normal circumstances’? Such luxuries vanished whenever a man allowed his paths to cross with Colonel Smith’s… Admittedly, it had not been hard to convince Mrs. Arnold to help him. Apparently, the rumors that the honeymoon phase of the Arnolds marriage had passed already were all too accurate. From the first time he visited their home during a party, safely in the guise of a Tory businessman from Long Island, he detected a certain…iciness which pervaded every corner of the space. It was certainly not a happy home… To gain entry to this safe, Templeton sold the story that in Arnold’s rampage after Continental spies, he accidently mistook a British spy for a Patriot one. Should Arnold arrest the man, the consequences could be quite dire for the couple and Arnold’s already shaky position with the British army, not to mention the British intelligence network itself. Therefore Templeton, with a checkered past of his own to aid him, had been requested by interested parties to discreetly retrieve the information before a scandal rocked multiple areas of the British army. Of course it was all nonsense…But Mrs. Arnold seemed to accept it well enough. Frankly, right now, Templeton did not care what story she bought as long as he received access to this safe and the information inside of it… Gritting his teeth when his pick slipped against the tumblers, he glanced up at the woman again. “Perhaps…could you step back a bit, Mrs. Arnold? I believe you’re blocking my light.”
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searchingwardrobes · 5 years ago
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The Convenient Groom: 3/12
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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.
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dramionedaydream · 5 years ago
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“Always Something” long, complete Dramione fic by diamonddaydream
Summary:  17 years into their unlikely marriage, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are tested by a magical accident that sets her memory back to age 18. Draco scrambles to hold together not just his marriage, but also the lives of his teenaged children: Pollux, who is shocked to find he is the inspiration for Griselda Goyle's Veela stories, and Castora, who, with the help of James Sirius Potter, confronts the possibility that she may be a squib. Complete, HEA
Read on Ao3 or ffn
Excerpt:
“Mother,” Draco said as he guided Hermione onto the sofa. “Hermione’s not feeling well. Can you bring her some refreshment?”
Narcissa smiled. “Certainly. Lucius, dear, on the trolley, if you please.”
“Of course, my dear.”
Draco frowned. His parents’ manner was odd, even for them. “On second thought,” he rushed to say, “we’ll have something later, thank you all the same.”
“Not at all,” Lucius sang. “We’ve got a lovely punch here -- so invigorating it’s almost a tonic, perfect for the nerves, brewed by hand by doting parents, now shared with their favourite daughter by marriage. Here you are Hermione. To your health.”
As she took the cup Lucius offered, Draco raised his hand to cover the top of it. “After you, father. Surely you’ll drink too.”
A low laugh rumbled in Lucius’s throat. “Of course, Draco.” He poured himself a cup of hot, tawny liquid, and sipped it rather loudly. “There we are, my loving but trust-issues-plagued son. Who can blame you? Your father still has so much to answer for, to be sure.”
“I apologize, father,” Draco said, with a slight bow. “Hermione’s health being what it is, I’m extremely particular about what she takes into her body. Even a well-meant health potion could be disastrous for us so -- pardon me, Father.”
“Of course, Draco.” Lucius set his glass tumbler on the trolley and crossed the floor to stand behind Narcissa’s chair, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “Now let your dear wife drink.”
Hermione hadn’t wanted anything to drink, but after the Malfoys had made such a fuss over it, she felt she had to accept what was offered. Nothing was simple in this house. That much was clear already. Her first sip was conciliatory, her second was polite, her third, curious, and her fourth and final one, ravenous.
Lucius chuckled, his hands working at Narcissa’s shoulders.
“It’s not much like tea, is it?” Hermione mused. “More like -- a warm gin.”
Draco lifted the empty cup, sniffing at it.
“Would you like some, Draco?” Narcissa asked, now that Lucius did not seem interested in serving anymore. With long, white fingers, he was brushing Narcissa’s hair away from her neck and ear, eyeing it like a peckish vampire.
On Draco’s arm, Hermione had ceased her stiff clinging and was softening, settling into him, her head against his shoulder, nestling her cheek against his arm. He pulled his head back to look at her. “Hermione? Are you sleepy?”
She hummed a reply, a sound almost like a purr, a sound he hadn’t heard in weeks. He blushed at it.
Lucius saw it, laughing.
“It wasn’t a calming draught, was it?” Draco asked.
“Nothing so potent,” Lucius drawled.
Narcissa looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide. “Bring me the bottle, Lucius.”
He groaned a protest, pressing his face into her neck.
“Lucius!”
“There’s been a mistake, Draco,” Lucius said, crossing the floor and lifting the bottle from the tea trolley. “I didn't want to alarm anyone by mentioning it, but I’m afraid the drink I gave Hermione was our own special blend, mine and your mother’s.”
Narcissa laughed. “Lucius, you didn’t.”
Hermione bent one leg over Draco’s knee, snaking an arm inside his jacket, against his stomach.
“Special blend?” Draco roared.
“Yes, reserved for loving, married couples.”
“A love potion?”
Narcissa laughed. “Heavens, no. Why would your father need that?”
Both of Draco’s parents, a pair of sixty-year-olds, were laughing now as Lucius climbed into Narcissa’s armchair, displacing her and sitting her on his lap as she tried to maintain a bit of her prim dignity.
“This is an assault,” Draco said, pulling Hermione’s hand out of his jacket as she murmured a complaint. “A breach of trust.”
“An honest mistake,” Lucius argued. “All the bottles on that cart are nearly identical. It’s a sound aesthetic choice, but a risky one when it comes to food safety. And it’s not a love potion, Draco. Stand down. It’s merely a disinhibitor, a loosener of pre-existing affections. Hermione won’t do anything she isn’t naturally inclined toward.”
Narcissa said. “Take her somewhere safe and wait it out. The effect won’t last more than an hour, or so. And it might do you both some good.”
He looked at Hermione’s face, pressed against his chest, eyes closed, smiling. “I am so sorry,” he told her. “This was not the effect I had in mind when we came here.”
“Mm, it’s alright,” she cooed, turning her face to openly breath in his scent. “Rather nice,” she sighed.
Narcissa cocked her head, “Lucius, look at them. So lovely.”
“She doesn’t mean it,” Draco spat. But his parents were ignoring him now as Lucius set about tracing the angles of Narcissa’s face with his fingers. It was time for them to leave the library.
“Of course I mean it,” Hermione said as Draco hoisted her off the sofa and onto her feet. She draped her arms around his neck. “Carry me away, Draco. I don’t remember a thing about our honeymoon. Carry me.”
With a snap, he disapparated them from the library, reappearing in his bedroom upstairs. Still holding his neck, she looked about the room, laughing. “It’s Draco Malfoy’s childhood bedroom. Have I snogged Draco Malfoy in his childhood bedroom?”
“Yes, it’s old news,” he said, disentangling her arms, stepping to the bed to pull down the covers. “You have snogged Draco Malfoy just about everywhere. Now,” he said, “lie down and go to sleep until you’re -- feeling better.”
“I’m not tired,” she said, swaying on her feet.
“Maybe not, but you are enchanted. So sleep.”
“Lie down with me, Malfoy.”
“Bad idea.”
“Please -- ”
“Hermione -- ”
“I trust you,” she said, staggering slightly as she moved toward him, sliding both of her arms around his torso inside his jacket now. “I do. You said you’re extremely particular about what I take into my body -- “
“Hermione!”
She was laughing at him, her face against his collar, her breath on the skin of his neck. Without words, he voiced his frustration, groaning as he pulled her hands free of himself, folding them against her sternum, lowering her onto the bed, tucking the blankets tightly around her, pinning her arms and hands against her body as he knelt on the rug. His jacket appeared to be a problem so he took it off, loosened his tie and collar, and accio-ed an ottoman to sit on as he watched over her...
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alj4890 · 6 years ago
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Angst/Love Prompt
(Thomas x Amanda) with a request from @krsnlove to write out my final idea for An alternate version of I Was On My Way angst short.
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(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) I refuse to let this angst storyline become a part of my AU's.
A/N Okay. Can the angst stop? Please?!? This is my third and final alternate version of I Was On My Way. I mean it. No more. My heart and eyes have worked overtime crying. Especially over alternate version 2. We might pretend that one doesn't exist. Anyway...Like Choices you can choose any of these three endings you want for the initial Say Goodbye short. I think though that this version will be the one picked.
Part 1: Say Goodbye
Part 2 I Was On My Way
Part 2 alternate She’s Gone
Song: Clarity
Masterlist
@lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment   @krsnlove @cora-nova @bella-ca  @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @dr-nancy-house @aworldoffandoms @pixieferry @lolablackwrites @i-bloody-love-drake-walker
Remedy (3rd and final alternate ending for Say Goodbye)
Thomas clutched the tumbler filled with whatever alcohol he had in this particular decanter. He had forgotten what it was once he had finished the previous one. He took a gulp and welcomed the burn that began to numb his heart. His thoughts though, nothing was touching them. His only hope was that it would keep the dreams at bay.
He stared at the massive television screen and watched Amanda walk down the aisle toward Liam. He hated that he knew every glance, twitch of her lips, and facial expression. Knowing these only made his shattered heart break even more. She was not a happy bride.
Yes, she was smiling. Her unshed tears were typical of any woman on her wedding day. Her elegant silk gown draped over her figure perfectly. The slight tremble of her hands as she clutched the bouquet of red roses and white star lilies was normal with the cathedral filled with representatives from around the world.
He knew the truth though. She was devastated. He shouldn't have made the visit to Cordonia a year ago. Seeing her again...feeling her lips under his...hearing her voice say his name...it had hurt them both more than if he had remained away. Telling her he loved her...had it hurt her more than if he had kept it secret? Would he have admitted it if he had known beforehand that she was promised to Liam?
He took another sip as she took Liam's hand. Thomas watched them kneel as the archbishop expressed what a joyous occasion it was that brought these two individuals together. The couple at the altar stared straight ahead, each absorbed with thoughts of wishing the other was someone else, someone they truly loved with their entire heart.
He sneered at the hypocrisy. Their promises to love and cherish each other were spoken while avoiding eye contact. It was killing him to see the woman he loved be tied for eternity to a man that didn't love her nowhere near as he did. Liam couldn't begin to comprehend the depth of love Thomas held for her.
His guilt gnawed at his insides as he realized that it was his decision to break up with her that had set off the chain of events. It had ended in this wedding ceremony that should not have even been considered. He was sorry Liam had been denied the love of his life, but that didn't mean Amanda should be forced in a loveless marriage because of it.
Thomas set his glass down and noticed his phone vibrating. He didn't want to pick it up. He didn't know why he had set it up to be notified on any Cordonian news. He never intended to go back there, but a part of him couldn't let go of a way to see how Amanda was doing as Queen of Cordonia.
He ran a hand over his face as he started the wedding over yet again. Thomas had canceled this week's shooting schedule, knowing he needed time alone. Time to wallow in misery. It was Liam and Amanda's one year wedding anniversary. According to the press, the people of Cordonia were anxiously awaiting news of a possible pregnancy.
The royal couple had been seen traveling more so than usual these last two months which caused speculation that they were having another honeymoon for...he grimaced and downed the contents in his glass. The very image of her and Liam together in that fashion turned his stomach. He couldn't stand the thought of the king kissing her much less touching her body the way he once had.
Thomas knew he should turn the notifications off once and for all. He didn't want to see Liam telling everyone that Amanda was pregnant. That had to be what the big press conference was about. He had received the notifications this morning about Liam's sudden State of the Kingdom address. He was most likely going to announce the joyous event.
A baby. No matter what happened, a baby would keep her permanently tied to Liam, to Cordonia. Every last shred of ridiculous hope Thomas possessed turned to ash. There was nothing left but his tormented memories of when she was his, the televised wedding, and the knowledge that it was his fault.
He staggered to the kitchen to find something else to drink and paused when he heard his phone vibrate continuously.
Thomas clutched his head and slid down the wall. "I can't do it." He muttered into the darkness, cursing his own cowardice. "I can't look at it."
He closed his eyes, wishing he could take it all back. He imagined what he would do differently. Telling Amanda how much he loved her topped that fantasy. Thomas would get down on his knees to ask her to be his forever. He would tell her that he would move to Cordonia. Move wherever she wanted to live. He just wanted, needed, to be with her.
He leaned his head back against the wall as he pleaded silently for release from this hellish prison he had created for himself. His ghostlike existence was destroying him. The images of what he once had haunted him continuously.
He felt a brush of air and heard the soft sound of steps cautiously approaching. He didn't want Holly or Addison to try and cheer him up again. They had known about the anniversary and had argued against him withdrawing from those that cared about him during this time. He decided to ignore their prescence. They had learned to give him a wide berth if he was silent.
He grit his teeth when he felt someone quietly sit down beside him on the floor. He didn't want comfort. He didn't want anything but numbness and to be left alone. He ran his hands through his hair and bent his head forward.
He felt the gentle touch of a hand rubbing his back. He flinched and jerked his head up. He scooted away from what had to be the results of his mind finally snapping.
Amanda's concerned eyes flickered over his haggard appearance. A day's growth of stubble covered his jaw. Dark smudges were under his sleep deprived eyes. His hair was mussed and his clothes were wrinkled.
She started to reach out toward him but paused in uncertainty. "I'm sorry." She said in a soft tone. "I tried calling a little while ago. I shouldn't have come unannounnced, but I needed to see you." Her eyes filled with tears when he simply stared at her. "I...you said you loved me and I know it was long ago..."
She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she began to cry. "I knew there was a chance you moved on, but I had to come tell you. We cleared Riley's name. Liam, myself, and the others finally convinced Tariq to come forward. I'm free. My marriage has been quickly annulled. Liam and Riley are planning on marrying within the next couple of days."
She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I had to tell you, in case there was a chance you... Oh Thomas, I love you. I've missed being able to--"
She buried her face against his neck when he yanked her into his arms. Her body was wracked with sobs as she clutched him close to her. Thomas closed his eyes and prayed this was real. He pressed his lips to her head, causing her to cry harder. He rubbed her back and tried to soothe her.
He cradled her face between his hands. His lips brushed her damp cheeks before landing on her mouth.
Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck, returning his kiss with all the pent up passion she had held for him. Thomas broke away for a moment and stood up. He kept her hand in a tight grip, afraid she would disappear. He turned the lamp on to see her properly...see that she was real.
She wiped her cheeks with her free hand while she looked at him. He took a shaky breath before pulling her into a hug. "You're here to stay?" He asked.
She nodded. "If you still want me." She lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "I can go to a hotel or leave the city if you don't want me here. You shouldn't be made to feel obligated to--"
"I love you." He interrupted. "So much. I tried to stop, but I can't. " His hands moved along her shoulders and back, unsure how to touch her, but needing to. "I need to be with you. I need forever with you."
Her face crumbled with tears. He felt panic set in that he had said something to drive her away. She moved into his embrace and tried to explain how much she had hoped for this while he held her tight.
"I wanted to call you so many times and tell you that Liam and I were still trying to make things right for everyone. Yet, he was so frightened of it getting out and spooking Tariq further away." She met his steady gaze and sighed. "Knowing there was a chance I could one day be with you, have happiness again...it kept me going whenever a roadblock popped up."
"No one else could bring me the type of happiness you have." He ran his fingers through her hair as his other hand urged her even closer to him. "I've been miserable without you."
She glanced at the tv and her eyes widened at what was paused on the screen. "Is that my--why are you watching this?"
Thomas grabbed the remote and turned it off. He didn't know how to answer her. How did he explain that it was both a penance and a blessing? He was able to see her. Hear her voice. Imagine it ending differently. Then it revealed his greatest mistake that cost him everything.
She saw the torment on his face and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She nudged his head on her shoulder, gently smoothing his hair in a slow, repetitive fashion. His muscles relaxed at her touch. He placed his arms around her waist, closing his eyes when she kissed his forehead.
"Don't leave." He choked out. "Don't leave me again."
She pressed her lips against his head. "I won't. I promise."
Her tender touch and warmth caused his body to succumb to the exhaustion he had been fighting.
Amanda was able to scoot down on the couch beside him and smiled when he tightened his arms around her. Her hair was caught under his head and he was snoring in her ear. Her joy at being back in his arms made her thankful that she couldn't turn over or get comfortable. She was where she had wished to be every moment of the past year.
The next day, she sat up with a start. Thomas was gone. She looked around and relaxed when she realized she was in his house and not in her lonely bedroom in the palace. Her lips curved at the blanket that had been tucked around her. She could hear water running upstairs and decided to check her appearance.
She stepped into his hall bathroom and grimaced. Her eyes were swollen with eye makeup smeared from her tears. She searched for a rag and began to scrub her face. She bent over the sink to splash water over it when she felt someone come up behind her. She quickly wiped her face and looked in the mirror.
Thomas had showered and shaved. He pulled her back against his chest and placed his lips on her neck. She bit her lip, thinking how ugly she looked right now, before he turned her head to meet his lips. She slowly ran her hand along his smooth jaw before slipping it into his damp hair.
He lifted his head for a moment and looked into her eyes. "Marry me." He said softly. He pressed a lingering kiss to her cheek. "Please." He pleaded in a hoarse whisper while tracing the shell of her ear with his lips.
She nodded, afraid she would start crying again if she spoke. He smiled at her before his lips landed on hers in a sudden burst of passion. He guided her out of the bathroom without letting her go. She laughed against his lips when they bumped into the back of the couch. He glanced at the stairs and reluctantly released her.
"I should go." She said.
His eyes widened. "What? Why?"
She wrapped her arms around him. "So I can change my clothes and try to not be so hideous looking." She kissed his neck and breathed in his aftershave. "I left my bags at a hotel in case you weren't here or didn't want me to stay."
Thomas lifted her face. His thumbs brushed over her soft skin. He shook his head. "I will always want you with me."
Amanda grinned and kissed him again. "I won't be long."
He pulled her back into his arms. "Don't go." He rested his forehead against hers. "Borrow some of my clothes and stay here. I can find someone to pick your bags up for you and bring them here." He ran his hands up and down her arms. "Stay with me. Please."
"Why do you make it so impossible to leave?" She muttered kissing him.
He smiled at her before pulling her upstairs. He found an old t-shirt that had been a favorite of hers to steal along with some pajama pants. She set the clothes down and started his shower. He leaned against the counter, watching her remember where he kept everything. She paused and held up a bottle in surprise.
"You still have my shampoo?" She blushed as she realized that this might be another woman's.
Thomas took the bottle and opened it up. He sniffed the coconut aroma and set it in the shower for her. "I love that smell because it reminds me of you."
"So it's not--never mind. It isn't any of my business." She went to his closet for a washcloth and towel.
Thomas stopped her. "I haven't been with anyone since you."
Her lips parted in surprise. "Neither have I."
Now it was his turn to stare in surprise. "You and Liam didn't..." Did he really want to know that answer?
"Never." She stated emphatically. "We viewed our marriage as a means of extra time to spend on fixing what Liam's father had broken. Liam is my best friend. He listened to me and encouraged me about you and I did the same for him when he talked about Riley. That is the only kind of love we had."
Thomas shook his head in wonder while pulling her close. "I keep waiting to wake up and discover this is nothing but a dream."
Amanda rested her head against his shoulder. "Stop trying. I don't want to wake up back in Cordonia." She sighed into his kiss before playfully pushing him out. "Let me try and look a little better."
He smiled and asked her where her bags were. After taking down the information, he left her to make the necessary calls. While making some coffee and trying to find something edible for breakfast, he watched Liam's speech.
He had never seen Liam so happy, so at peace, as he held Riley's hand and explained everything. He thanked Amanda for her being his partner in helping him obtain his true happiness. His smile turned tender as he told the press that she had left to check on her own happy ending and that he hoped it wasn't too late.
"Lady Amanda will have my eternal gratitude for sacrificing so much to help me in what seemed an impossible situation. Her steadfastness and unwavering optimism is what kept my hope alive." Liam explained.
Thomas braced his hands on the counter with the realization that all was turning out like he wanted. He had made it through a year of hopelessness. His love was here in his very home. Upstairs. Back in his life for good.
He looked down at her arms that came around him. He turned and smiled at seeing her in his clothes. She brushed her damp hair back behind her ear and laughed at her appearance. He told her she never looked lovelier than she did in his kitchen, in his clothes. He leaned down and kissed her when she said his name.
There lips met again and again as they pressed against each other. Thomas leaned down and picked her up. Ignoring her squeals of protest to be put down, he managed to carry her upstairs and put her down carefully in his bed. He stretched out next to her and began to show her how much he had missed her, how grateful he was to have her back.
Tears came to her eyes with every tender, reverent touch. He continually told her she would never understand how much he loved her as he pressed his lips to every part of her body. His eyes met hers as he reached that bliss filled moment of hearing his name in her breathless voice.
She closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest in the aftermath, his steady heartbeat lulling her in a light sleep. Thomas continued to run his fingers along her skin in slow caresses. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head when she made a contented sound.
She turned her head to look at him. "Thank you for letting me stay here with you." She said softly. “I have needed to be near you.”
He paused in his caress and stared into her eyes. "You have to stay. I can't live without my heart."
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