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ncssian · 4 years ago

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A Favor: Part Three

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: tw for abuse mention. i hope this chapter is readable bc a lot of it was written when i should've been sleeping.

***

“...expecting heavy snow, possibly even a snowstorm, by the end of the week.” The TV blares softly in the background as Nesta types away on her laptop propped on the arm of the couch. The fireplace is up and crackling, and Cassian has to stop in the threshold between kitchen and living room to take in the scene. He’s getting a little too used to this, he worries sometimes. She’ll be gone as soon as her apartment is fixed, he reminds himself, and pushes off the wall to circle the couch and approach Nesta.

He sets the steaming mug of coffee down on the table before her and takes a seat beside her. She doesn’t even stop typing as she glances up and murmurs a “thank you” before returning to her paper.

Cassian doesn’t want to interrupt her work, so he settles into the comfortable habit of watching her. They watch each other a lot— Nesta claims it’s because she’s bored and there’s nothing else to look at. Cassian has no such delusions.

She’s in a wool sweater and thick leggings today. Her hair is pulled back in a worn braid and her glasses are pushed all the way up her nose, but what catches Cassian’s attention tonight is the way her baby hairs escape her braid and frizz around her temples. Yesterday it was the way her cheeks flushed in the firelight, and the day before it was those damn glasses. Today it’s baby hairs.

The fantasy is quick and sneaky, there in his mind before he’s even aware of it.

Getting up to sit on the floor before her. Nudging her legs apart with slow hands while her fingers stutter over the keyboard. Pushing the hem of her sweater up, and pulling her leggings down. “Focus on your work,” he says when she tries to push her laptop away. “Finish your paper for me.” Tracing the inside of her thighs with his lips until his head is right—

The slam of a laptop snaps Cassian out of it. Nesta makes a frustrated growl and rubs her hands across her face before shoving her laptop aside to reach for the coffee.

He raises a brow, endlessly amused by everything she does. “Writing troubles?”

“I deserve a break,” she grumbles.

“I could help with that.”

Tucking her feet beneath her legs, Nesta ignores him and gestures at the TV with her chin. “Think we’ll get snowed in?”

Cassian almost hopes so. Any excuse to build more fires and stay inside with Nesta. “I’ll have to make a shopping trip,” he says casually. “You want anything?”

“I want to be in a state where there aren’t blizzards in October.” She looks over at him. “I miss Tennessee.” It’s a simple admission that brings Cassian to attention. She never gives out details about herself unprompted.

“I didn’t know you still got homesick.” Feyre never talks about her childhood in Tennessee. The only indicator of the Archeron sisters’ pasts is Elain’s sweet little Southern belle accent, which Cassian has a feeling is more for show at this point than anything else.

Nesta shrugs awkwardly in response, but he keeps going. “Rhys’s mom had a summer house in the Smokies. We would go down there each year without fail until college.” Rhys thinks it was fate that the summer home was so close to the small mountain town where Feyre grew up. Cassian thinks that’s a stretch.

“Yeah?” Nesta sips her coffee. “Have you gone back since?”

He shakes his head. “Rhys and Feyre are renovating it right now. You should come vacation with us when it’s done.” He perks up at the sudden idea.

Nesta gives him that familiar weird look from the corner of her eye. “Mm-hm,” she hums noncommittally.

“I’m serious,” Cassian insists. “We could have fun.” He’s already imagining it, getting to show Nesta around the place he grew up. Hearing what she has to say about the rocks and corners he would hurt himself on when he played with his brothers, maybe even hearing about her childhood in the Smokies. But Nesta looks stuck, unsure of how to turn him down.

“It doesn’t sound like a good idea,” she states finally. “I wouldn’t be welcomed there, and I would be the odd outlier the entire time at best.”

Cassian already knows Nesta has no interest in getting friendly with the rest of Feyre’s friend group, and he can respect that. But he still wants her there.

“You wouldn’t have to hang out with everybody there,” he says. “You’d have me and your sisters. That’s three whole people.”

She looks surprised at that. “Since when did I have you?”

Oh. Cassian shrugs. “We’re friends, right? I like you, so you have me.”

She straightens even further at that. He continues without waiting for her reply. “That’s why I want you to vacation with us. I like you, and I’d like having you there.”

Nesta sits back against the couch, staring at him, and then her coffee, then him. “This is new,” she finally says.

Cassian is lost. “What is?”

She considers for a moment, chewing her lip. “I’ve had people say they love me,” she says slowly, “but I don’t think anyone has ever liked me very much.”

The words are so incomprehensible that Cassian just sits there like a fool. She’s making even less sense than when she told him she used to come around to Feyre’s all the time and he never noticed. “I don’t get it. Who doesn’t like you?”

Nesta frowns deeply. “Don’t make me come up with a list. It’s not nice.”

Cassian might need a list, because he wants to have words with these people. “Okay, then. Why wouldn’t anybody like you?”

Nesta’s eyes narrow into a glare and she scoffs like he just said something offensive. “Jesus, I don’t know. Why don’t you call up my ex and ask if you care so much?” She sets her empty mug down and stands up, gathering her laptop and notes as she goes.

Cassian doesn’t know what he said wrong. “Wait, Nes—”

“Thanks for the coffee, I’m going to finish my work in my room.” She pushes her glasses up her nose and speedwalks out of the room, ignoring Cassian’s calls to wait.

***

Cassian can’t sleep that night knowing Nesta is upset with him. He tried knocking at her door when he came upstairs an hour after Nesta had, but the lights were off and he received no reply. Now in bed, he listens to the howl of late autumn wind outside and goes over everything Nesta said earlier.

She misses Tennessee. She feels that nobody likes her. She has an ex that definitely doesn't like her.

It's the last two details that bother Cassian the most. He’s about to spiral into another hour of overthinking when his phone lights up on the nightstand.

Subconsciously thinking it's a text from Nesta, his hand shoots for his phone. He has to smother his disappointment when he sees it's only Feyre checking in.

Feyre: how are things going with nesta? is she causing u any trouble?

Maybe he’s still upset about his conversation with Nesta, but the text rubs him the wrong way. Nesta sounds like a pet or a rowdy child.

Cass: not at all. she’s perfect

He quickly erases that last word and hesitates, trying to think of another one.

she’s lovely wonderful great. He settles on great and clicks send.

A reply pops up a few seconds later.

Feyre: lmao sure

Cassian frowns at his phone. What’s that supposed to mean?

Another text appears: just tell me if you need anything and i’ll take care of it. i know this isnt easy.

What isn’t easy? Having a roommate? Cassian replies, We don’t need anything, we’re fine. He uses capitalization and everything, feeling offended for some reason. And then, not really wanting to see a reply from Feyre, he turns his phone off and leaves it facedown on the nightstand.

He shuffles deeper under the covers and pushes his friend out of his mind, thinking about ways to make up with Nesta tomorrow instead.

***

Nesta stays up all night berating herself for how she reacted to Cassian’s innocent question. She wasn’t expecting him to pry for details because no one ever pries into her life, and she freaked out instead of rationally assessing the situation.

A part of her is satisfied now, having seen this coming from a mile away. It happens with everyone she meets, when she says or does something wrong and inevitably pushes them away. Maybe she should keep pushing him away, and keep him at arm’s length for the rest of her time here.

A larger part of Nesta is embarrassed at having caused a scene, and worse, mentioning Tomas. Because that’s exactly where her mind went when Cassian asked that question— to the man who used to say he loved her, but who never truly liked her. Intrusive memories from years past attack Nesta until the sky outside turns a light gray: dressing up for fancy business events and having his arm wrapped around her waist in an illusion of affection. Him pinching her side hard enough to make tears spring to her eyes when nobody was looking and leaning into her ear to lovingly whisper everything wrong with her that night. Going home and having makeup sex.

She’s still flustered from Cassian and can’t keep the thoughts out as well as usual. When she finally does drift off into a restless imitation of sleep, it’s by holding her thumb to her wrist until the steady beat of her pulse soothes her worn nerves.

Nesta wakes up cramping.

It takes her a few moments to pull out of the fog of sleep and recognize the feeling, and she groans aloud. This can’t be happening to her right now.

She was stupidly hoping that her period would hold off until she moved back into her apartment. Her premenstrual cramps are telling her she has two days at most.

She refuses to go through that experience in the same house as Cassian. Her family doesn’t even like being in the same house as her when she’s on her period. Her ex would outright leave their apartment and stay at a friend’s until she got over it. So this…

She groans once more and pulls herself out of bed. A quick phone check tells her it’s only been three hours since she fell asleep, but she’s given up at this point.

Nesta tiptoes hesitantly out of her room, not wanting to face Cassian just yet. It’s only when she reaches the stairs that she realizes the house is unusually quiet, even though it’s almost eleven.

Frowning, Nesta pads into the kitchen to find two things: a covered dish sitting on the island and a green sticky-note stuck to the fridge. She goes for the note first.

In messy handwriting it reads: Went out for groceries. Text me if you need anything. Beneath the words is a dark, almost furious scribble of ink, as if Cassian had written something there only to forcefully scratch it out.

Without overthinking it, she gets out her phone and texts Cassian that she needs pads. It only occurs to her after she’s sent the message that that’s probably not enough information.

Having Cassian know Nesta is on her period is one thing, but him knowing the size of her pad? The heaviness of her flow? She might need to enforce that rule about him never speaking to her again.

In her best attempt to not be viewed as a walking blood gusher, she asks for a smaller size pad than usual and turns her phone all the way off so she can’t see any replies.

Once you’re out of this house you’ll never have to see him again, so it won’t matter if you’re the rude bitch who cried and bled a lot while she was staying at his place.

Going over to the kitchen island, she uncovers the plate she assumes is for her. She isn’t expecting anything much, maybe Cassian’s leftovers from breakfast, so she hesitates when she sees a full stack of chocolate chip pancakes. Carefully decorated with berries and syrup, they’ve long gone cold, but— still.

Nesta reaches out as if they might not be real, or not meant for her, but nothing happens. Mouth tightening, she snatches the plate and grabs a fork.

Cassian comes in through the kitchen door twenty minutes later, long after Nesta’s cleaned off her food and washed the dishes in the sink. He throws her a smile as he shakes snow out of his hair and sets down the bags of groceries on the island by Nesta’s laptop.

“Oh, is it snowing already?” She throws a concerned glance outside, not having noticed while she was working.

“It’s light for now, but it won’t be for long.” He starts taking off his coat, and Nesta gets up to help with the groceries. She quickly finds the bag holding her stuff and discreetly sets it aside, but then Cassian grabs another bag and upturns it, its contents sprawling all over the island. “I don’t know what your period’s like, but we’re gonna be snowed in for a while so I got some of everything just in case.” He looks hesitant.

“Oh— thank you,” she says, overwhelmed. There’s three different types of painkillers, all that she already owns, and ten different types of junk food. And they're all for her. Nesta plucks up a package, stunned. “How are gummy worms supposed to help me on my period?”

Cassian leans his elbows on the marble and shrugs. “They’ll make you happy.”

“I’m allergic to gelatin.”

His face falls. “Oh.”

But Nesta just places the gummies in front of him and starts sorting the rest of the stuff. All the chocolates end up on her side, and the candies and gum and hot chips on Cassian’s side. When she's done, she finds him watching her closely. “Did you want some chocolate?” She offers out a Twix bar, her favorite. “I can trade you.”

“Uh, sure.” He accepts her Twix in exchange for his Hot Cheetos.

Silence ensues as Nesta tears open a Toblerone package and breaks off a triangle of nougat, when she remembers she has to tell him something.

“Thank you.” Her words are out of place and out of nowhere, spoken during the wrong time mark of a film and ruining the rhythm of the scene. Despite this, she powers on. “Thank you for breakfast, but also for this. Thank you for everything, really.”

Cassian perks up. “Did you like breakfast?”

Nesta nods through a mouthful of chocolate. “Chocolate chip pancakes are my favorite, and you’re good at making stuff.”

He raises a dark brow. “You mean cooking?”

“Same thing.”

“Well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Nesta slumps in relief, thinking her necessary talking points are over with. She's thanked him for shopping and for breakfast. What more could be— damn.

She clears her throat, even though she doesn't know what to say yet. She won't apologize— she doesn't know if she's physically capable of it, to be honest, but she can still seem regretful.

“Are we over last night?” she says bluntly. So much for regretful.

Cassian seems startled that she's even brought it up, which is perhaps a good sign that he already forgot about it. “Of course,” he says. “Nesta, I really didn't mean to offend you—”

Oh god, he’s not over it. “Don't apologize,” Nesta demands, throwing her hands up to ward him off. “You didn't even do anything, why would you apologize?”

“Well, you looked upset,” he says seriously. Cassian’s apologetic face looks an awful lot like hurt, though Nesta doesn't know why he would possibly feel hurt. Still, she has to pin her stare to the dark cabinets so he can't hurt her in turn. He keeps talking. “I know I promised to push your boundaries, but I never want to hurt you.”

His sincerity is more than disarming; it makes her ache.

“And I hated not talking to you last night.”

That gets Nesta's attention, and she suddenly feels two things at once: a swoop of joy that he likes talking to her, and a heavy drop of guilt that she ignored him all last night, even when he knocked on her door and apologized profusely.

“I fell asleep early,” she decides to lie. “I wasn't ignoring you.”

Cassian smiles softly and reaches out to brush a thumb over the tired circles under her eyes. “I can tell,” he says.

She's gone dead still, but she doesn’t flinch. She doesn't even want to flinch. Cassian clears his throat and drops his hand, and Nesta’s eyes follow him closely. “We’re good,” she says in finality. “Let’s go back to normal now.”

Cassian nods, his face carefully blank. “Okay. Then stop stuffing your face and help me with the rest of the groceries.” He moves off the island and elbows her on the way.

That makes Nesta smile, which makes Cassian smile even harder, and just like that, they’re back to normal.

***

a/n: two things: 1) cassian definitely texted feyre that morning and asked what nesta’s favorite breakfast was, and 2) can you tell im in love with writing nesta archeron?

tagging: @ladywitchling @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @sensitiveillyrian @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08

#a favor #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #ncssianwrites #nessian fic

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all-hail-the-witcher · 4 years ago

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where on the continent is jaskier? episode 1

Hiding under Yennefer’s dress

idea courtesy of @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher

___

Jaskier hadn’t really meant for this to happen. After Geralt has smashed his poor heart to smithereens onto of that vile, accursed, wretched...hm what was another word...abominable, yes he would have to remember that one for his next ballad. What had he been thinking about again? Oh right, the mountain yes. After the mountain he had wanted nothing more than to dig a hole and hide in it. Ger- no. Breaker Of Hearts And Ruiner Of Relationships had such stupidly strong, ridiculous Witcher senses that he would probably be able to sniff him out anywhere on the continent. but a hole? there might be just enough dirt surrounding him to dampen the stench of heartbreak and misery that he was sure was leeching off of him like...well like something. His metaphoric skills had been on a but of a downward spiral ever since The Incident.

He had been about a good hour into digging said hole with a stick he had found when there had been a POOF and a FLASH and one coughing fit later there stood the definite last person on the whole continent he wanted to see, Yennefer of Vengerberg herself, glaring down at him in her most disapproving fashion.

“Bard.”

“Witch.”

“What did that good dirt do to you?”

“None of your business. What are you doing so far from your cushy castle?” No, it was not his best insult, but it would do the job.

“I could smell your heartbreak from three villages away.”

“Oh. Well...uhh...I can explain, you see....I am..gathering inspiration for the next bardic competition so that I can finally stick it to that asswipe of a troubadour-”

“He broke your heart didn’t he.”

“Yes and I don’t want him finding me with his stupid enhanced senses so I was going to dig a hole and hide in it and cry so that he wouldn't find me!” Damn stupid sorceresses and their stupid magic making him reveal his emotions like this.

Yennefer though, only sighed and lifted up the skirt of the long black gown she was wearing. “C’mon bard.”

“Are you suggesting that you want me to...” he waggled his fingers in what he hoped was a suggestive manner, “you know? Because no offense to you or anything like that but I litERALLY JUST GOT MY HEART BROKEN AND MY IDEA OF HEALING IT DEFINITELY DOES NOT INCLUDE EA-”

“JASKIER!” He snapped his mouth shut. Stupid fucking magic. “Get under my skirt. It’s enchanted. He won't find you as long as you’re under there, and you can stay as long as you want.”

“But-”

“Don’t make me ask again.”

“Yen, this really isnt-”

“Oh for goddesses sake!” A ZAP sounded through the air and between one moment and the next Jaskier found himself falling into the folds of the fabric. Once he stopped screaming he realized that it was not merely the underside of Yennefer’s skirt, which would have been awful because he did Not need to be this up close and personal with his Second Mortal Enemy thank you VERY much, but that he was in some sort of pocket dimension thingy. It was quite nice, actually. There was a couch and a fire and oh! Yennefer had even had the decency to magic his lute there for him!

“Shout if you want food,” Yennefer’s voice echoed from somewhere above him. “And I expect a thank you. Stupid bards.”

Jaskier ignored her and flopped face first onto the couch, sobbing his eyes out. This wasn't where he envisioned himself having his much needed Post-Breakup-Cry, but it would do.

A mug of ale appeared next to him and he reached for it. Oh yes, this would do quite nicely.

ep. 2

yeah idk either. if you wanna be added to my tag list shoot me an ask

taglist: @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @barlowarts

#witcher #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #yennefer of vengerbeg #where in the continent is jaskier #saph scribbles #what even is this idk #request more ideas for jaskiers whereabouts if you would like #witcher fic #i just miss the bard #is this even worthy of a tag list idk

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jamesvanriemsdyk · 4 years ago

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hi James, love your blogging! just wondering, did you ever make an updated-through-the-2021-season version of that Leafs primer you had last year? if not, would you happen to know anybody on here who has made something like it? looking to give my roommate a crash course on who everyone is before they watch the game with me tonight. if you don’t have anything, that’s totally fine, enjoy the game!!

hello. the answer to both those questions is no, but i will literally do one to two sentence player summaries under the cut right now, and i will keep a tally of how many times i have to google. it will not be many.

let me just start with the big four:

auston matthews: #34, first overall in 2016 and first line center, won the richard this year with 41 goals in like 53 games or something crazy. highest drafted latino player ever, theres lot of baggage here, im sure u can explain all this to ur friend but itd take too long to get into it here

mitch marner: #16, fourth overall in 2015, best playmaker on the team, first line rw. human energizer bunny and the best player on the team. hella sexy on the pk, i love him.

william nylander: #88, eighth overall in 2014, second line lw, best skater on the team, also best at zone entries. severely underrated and notoriously hated by the toronto media and also don cherry.

john tavares: #91, second line center, drafted 1st overall to the islanders in 2009. signed w the leafs in 2018 (hometown boy!!! johnny toronto!!!), best captain ever, sexiest man on the team. i love him.

and uh now i will finish the first two lines and then go into lines 3 and 4:

zach hyman: #11, drafted by the panthers and then signed w the leafs because fuck the cats (jk i like them so much but zach didnt so. toronto), lw on the first line, penalty killing KING, the sparkplug of the team. bounces around the lineup but not because hes bad, hes genuinely that versatile of a player. also jewish, which is cool. king.

nick foligno: acquired at the trade deadline, plays rw on either the first or second line depending on injuries, i love him. was the captain of the cbj for like a while, which is neat because he left them for the team they knocked out of the bubble last year. hilarious.

alsx galchenyuk: my beloved. #12, my favorite number, will probably be out of the lineup for at least game 1 because the leafs are literally too good. has a whole saga involved w his career, but used to be a hab and was drafted 3rd overall by them, which is important for this playoffs. king.

third line:

mikheyev-nash-kerfoot

ilya mikheyev: #65, penalty killing king, cannot score shorthanded to save his life but he DESERVES it. signed in the 2019 offszn. i love him.

riley nash: #20, another cbj newbie. originally acquired for cap shenanigans, going into the lineup because hes a veteran and great defensive center. we'll see how this goes.

alex kerfoot: #15, acquired in the kadri trade, another great pker. i love him, he has more points than pld this season, hes great.

AND NOW FOR THE OLD MAN LINE.

jason spezza: #19, actual literal hall of famer, was with the sens and then the stars and now hes HOME, and i love him, and hes amazing. my dad.

joe thornton: #97, another literal hall of famer, was on the sharks FOREVER, now is here and very excited about it. has been decent this season, which was surprising to me, and i love him now. my friend sarah thinks hes hot.

wayne simmonds: #24, my beloved, used to be a flyer, he was exactly who i wanted dubas to sign this offseason, i adore him. my mom.

aaaaand now the dmen:

morgan rielly: #44, dating tessa virtue, the team's best offensive defenseman. people are mad at him rn because hes kinda sucked. we'll see how he does, but i love him either way.

thomas james brodie: #78, i love him i love him i love him i love him. signed from the flames this past offszn, best dman this team has seen in probably decades. i love him.

jake muzzin: #8, acquired from the kings, i love him deeply. will punch a bitch in the face and crush them also. love him.

justin holl: #3, works hard loves the game (and the boys), underrated as fuck. been in the organization forever and a day. i love him.

travis dermott: #23, boyfriend material, also been in the org forever, i love him deeply. third pairing/seventh d guy, does his job stupidly well for the disaster it must be to try to do it.

rasmus sandin: #38, drafted 29th overall in 2018, king king KING, hes amazing, holy shit hes so good especially for how young he is, i love him so much, king of my heart, king of this entire blog. i love him.

ben hutton: #55, acquired at the trade deadline, just happy to be here, will maybe get into the lineup if theres injuries, i love him.

GOALIES:

jack campbell: #36, the only goalie that matters, actual sunshine on skates, id let him **** me (thats big for me), i adore him. hes amazing. broke a carey price record this season. king.

freddie andersen: #31, i wish he was still good but he just isnt any more, it makes me deeply sad. hes still sexy tho

dave rittich: #33, BIG SAVE DAVE, acquired from cgy at the deadline, im very fond. will only get into the playoffs if theres insane injuries.

ok so i didnt google any of this but i did check the nhl app like 3 times for numbers. so. i hope this works lmao

#answered #also i see u in my notes all the time and ily #leafs primer #kinda #ok to rb also

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andymull · 5 years ago

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WWE Wrestlemania 36 - Preview & Predictions

Heeeeeyyyyy heeeeeeeyyyyyy its Wrestlemania....fighting to survive....

............. Coronavirus, social distancing, injuries, sickness, poor booking, late booking changes, trying to get people to pay $60 on PPV instead of free on the Network, etc etc etc

Brock Lesnar (c) vs Drew McIntyre: WWE Championship Match

I really really feel for Drew here, probably the most out of anyone on the show with the lack of an audience as well as the lack of crowds being able to watch in Scotland in bars at the Hooked On Wrestling events, as they would have been SUPERB for both atmosphere and something they would show constantly on tv after the win.

But no, sadly instead of holding this off till later in the year we still have to proceed and deal with it, gutted.

I feel this match could go 25 minutes long and be one of Brock’s longest matches for awhile, in them asking Brock to make Drew look THE STAR in beating him and beating him well. Plus, they cant have both this AND the Goldberg match go less than 5 minutes.....can they?

Wish they would have gone OTT with this and had it filmed at Lesnar’s ranch and be falls count anywhere, Drew turns up saying nothing will stop him from winning the title so he’s there to claim his prize on Brock’s turf. Then gone made fighting around the farm, oh well there’s other matches on this show that will seemingly be booked to shit.

Drew wins, they need to make sure he then moves into feuds with big names and wins clean each time to really invest it all into Drew and see what happens - MCINTYRE

Goldberg (c) vs Braun Strowman: WWE Universal Championship Match

What is there to be said here, Roman had to drop out because they stupidly had him around sick people with his health past, they decide to replace him with Braun who last month lost his title to Sami Zayn, not to mention they didnt even announce it till Smackdown last night without even mentioning Reigns by name after having HHH announce earlier in the week it would be done in an interesting way.............

This should go short with ideally Braun going over, have Bill take the lead hitting all his offense, big spear then as he goes to lift him for the Jackhammer he cant lift him and Strowman bursts out of it hits his finish and pins him clean while in monster mode.

Braun starts the big push from nowhere while at the same time this leaves it open for Goldberg to potentially come back for a rematch, as he didnt have anytime to prepare for Strowman and his game-plan for the bout. Not that I want Bill always around the title scene when he turns up but if they can get Braun going over him clean twice it really helps out a current full time guy under contract WHAT A CLEVER IDEA THAT WOULD BE!!! lol - STROWMAN

The Undertaker vs AJ Styles

I really have no desire to see Taker in a big singles match at Wrestlemania or any other big show ever again, let alone it being in a match with AJ who could have an awesome match with most others on the card. This match should really have turned into the OC vs Taker/Aleister Black if they HAD to go with these guys together, the rub that would have given Black would have been MASSIVE!! Imagine the innovative entrance they could have come up with for both guys together, truly letting Taker pass his aura across to someone new....just goosebumps thinking of how they would look....but nope.

Instead we end up with a feud built around shoot promos about Takers wife doing AJ’s Styles Clash finisher.....

The worst part is that I see Taker going over, not sure if it was confirmed but it was mentioned he’d have 2 others with him who most likely will turn the tide of the match, dont get your hopes up for Black here instead, im guessing its Kane and Big Show....seriously....please be wrong - UNDERTAKER

John Cena vs The Fiend Bray Wyatt

I really wish if they are going to bring back guys who haven't been on the road full time then PLEASE bring them back with a solid storyline that makes sense and that’s been built up for awhile to make sense.....not this. Truthfully they need to build these matches with the sole purpose of having the other guys who could/should have been the spot to be able to turn around and say, ‘you know what, this makes alot of sense and will be great so I cant hold it against them and moan’. Honestly that’s all it needs.

And secondly they really are lucky there wont be a live audience there for the match, the cheers the Fiend would have received over Cena would have drove them wild in editing after trying to build Bray as the crazy heel.

After dropping the title Bray NEEDS the big win here to keep his aura something they can use well, the more they have him lose the quicker that appeal will drop, and for me with Wyatt that doesn't mean he can take loses as long as he isnt pinned like others can ANY loss hurts someone who can teleport (?!?!) - WYATT

Edge vs Randy Orton: Last Man Standing

Edge is the guy in second place behind Drew for me feeling gutted there wont be an audience around for this, imagine coming back after years away and the thought you could never wrestle again through fear of dying then finding you CAN wrestle again.........only to be risking it all in an empty building.....FUCKS SAKE!

This should be great and given the time to have the emotional side of it pour out strong, we should be getting Edge taking a beating to the point that Beth will come out to support him then have her feelings develop to the point she will want him to stay down and stop the pain. Yeah this will be great - EDGE

Becky Lynch (c) vs Shayna Baszler: Raw Women’s Championship Match

I dont think the result should be in question here, Shayna HAS to win and go on a dominant run with the belt, ideally booking Becky to come back in contention for SummerSlam to rematch.......sadly everything's in the air with the world.

For me, and remember those words, Becky’s reign has been abit of a meh fest in-ring, apart from the Sasha bouts, and the extra focus on her has highlighted her ring work which really isnt the strongest part of her game (Not saying she’s terrible at all, but could she please drop the awkward leg drop from the ropes lol). At the same time alot of that is down to how she’s booked as management seem to go on a few months run of wanting the women to be the main focus, then quickly changing their mind and dropping it back massively. Also, the lack of depth with the women’s division's is a problem with them being split over the shows, same with the men to a degree and is the reason we see feuds get dragged and dragged for months, with less women it means we hardly get anything that feels fresh which needs to be key - BASZLER

Lacey Evans vs Sasha Banks vs Bayley (c) vs Tamina vs Naomi - Smackdown Women’s Championship Fatal 5 Way Match

What a mess this is, I have no desire to see Banks/Bayley again for at least another 5 years...........but id much prefer that to having Tamina suddenly dragged on tv and put into the title picture. I get that the roster like her and she’s probably a really nice person to be around and supports the other women massively when needed, but for a viewer she brings NOTHING and hasn't for YEARS, all she’s doing is taking up a roster spot that someone way more deserving could be in from NXT for example. And yes, ive seen the random accounts on Twitter hoping she wins the title............jeez

Wouldn't have a problem with any of the other women taking the win here, sucks that Dana had to pull out as she has really shown improvements the past few months and deserved her place here easily - BANKS

Rhea Ripley (c) vs Charlotte: NXT Women’s Championship Match

So we definitely are back to saying ‘women’s’ champion again are we? They dropped it the other month but seem to have quickly gone back to it.

Big match for NXT here getting a Mania slot, I really hope that Charlotte doesn't get the win and belt but her winning opens up more fresh options for the future on the women’s division on the show. As long as Charlotte doesn't keep doing her thing of wearing massive heels in-ring to show how much bigger she is to everyone else, for some random reason it annoys me and doesn't need to even be done.

I feel if Charlotte does win the title they will very quickly move another NXT star over to Raw/Smackdown to replace her or hype a new debut upto the draft which MAY be soon - CHARLOTTE

Kevin Owens vs Seth Rollins

The problem with having so many matches at Wrestlemania is that one like this goes so far under the radar its criminal, both guys are great and can pull out something special for the big show....not sure they get the time they will want even with a two night show. This feud will most likely continue so dont worry about who goes over - ROLLINS

Sami Zayn (c) vs Daniel Bryan: Intercontinental Championship Match

Exactly the same as the match before and even more so, a quality match that probably wont get the most time but will be a really fun ride to be on - ZAYN

Jimmy Uso vs John Morrison vs Kofi Kingston: Smackdown Tag Team Title Ladder Match

Yeah dont ask, they had to remove the Miz as he had Coronavirus symptoms but still wanted to do the ladder stipulation...

Honestly the tag division has to be up there for the most stale division in the company, similar to what I said about the women having the Uso’s and The New Day in a match in any combination is just soooooo over done.

Last month I predicted Morrison and Miz to retain and drop the titles tonight but now I hope they keep them, then drop them to Heavy Machinery as soon as they can - MORRISON

The Street Profits (c) vs Austin Theory & Angel Garza: Raw Tag Team Championship Match

Love the SP’s but this really isnt needed in the slightest, I guess the next few matches will be exactly the same. - STREET PROFITS

Elias vs The Baron King

Exactly - Elias

Aleister Black vs Bobby Lashley

Please have Black go over quick - BLACK

Otis vs Dolph Ziggler

At last a match that deserves its spot on the card, a long term story that’s been developed well and is building to more with the stakes changed down the road. Easily an Otis win with Mandy ending up in his arms for the big smooch - OTIS

The Kabuki Warriors (c) vs Alexa Bliss & Nikki Cross: WWE Women’s Tag Team Championship Match

Lets throw the titles we’ve forgotten about on the show too!! Feel for all the women that have been around the title scene here since the belts came into existence, so much promise over multiple brands that went NOWHERE! - CROSS/BLISS

Kick Off Matches

Drew Gulak vs Cesaro

I think Gulak sneaks the win out with his TECHNIQUE!!! - GULAK

Natalya vs Liv Morgan

I hope Liv picks up the win and they give her more tv time and focus, Nattie winning doesnt really do much for anyone apart from her - MORGAN

2 nights, lots of matches, lots of things not needed get ready to be mildly hyped!!!

Enjoy

Bye for now

Andy

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let-it-raines · 6 years ago

Text

Second in Command (Epilogue - Part Seven)

Summary: Life as the “spare to the heir” isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be when you’re the supposed screw-up of the family, but people don’t know what really happens behind closed doors.

Rating: Mature

A/N: You guys are totally going to be annoyed with me for how I left it on a cliffhanger when I totally didn’t have to except to show some character growth and how things change...which I guess is exactly the reason I ended it that way :D

Found on AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14| 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Epilogue Parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

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“Can I come in, son?”

“Yeah, of course,” Killian answers automatically, the shock of his father just showing up at his door stunning him for only a moment. It’s not like he never visits. He usually just calls or texts first. “I didn’t know you were coming over, dad. Why didn’t you call?”

“Oh, I was visiting the kids and thought I’d drop by since I knew that the two of you had returned home.” His dad steps inside, squeezing his shoulder before leaning down to pet Indy. “Hello, darling,” he then greets Emma, kissing her cheek before wrapping her up in a hug. “How are you feeling today?”

“Good, good,” Emma insists, her eyes still blown wide as if she’s actually been shocked. He knows she’s still a bit rattled from the flight and her nausea. The same thing had happened when they went out sailing the morning of their anniversary, before the disaster of the rest of that day, and even though he had been wary of it, Emma insisted she was fine. She never said she wasn’t, but the green of her face told him otherwise. “How are you?”

“Kicking pretty high for my age.”

“You are not old,” she laughs, tugging on Indy’s leash. “Do you mind if I take Indy for a quick walk? Let her run around a bit. She’s been told she’s going outside, and I’m afraid she’ll freak out if she doesn’t get to go.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll chat with Killian, and the second you two come back inside, I want to hear all about how you’ve been since you left us to go holiday in the warm sunshine. I swear it’s rained for the past week.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Emma takes a step over toward him, leaning up and kissing his cheek, whispering that she’ll be right back before taking a step outside with Indy and leaving him with his dad.

“Do you want something to drink? Eat?”

“I’m fine.” His father begins walking to the living room, settling down into the recliner he prefers when visiting all while Killian sits down on the couch next to him, only a side table between them. “So how was your holiday?”

He almost chokes on his own saliva thinking of all of the things he absolutely cannot tell his father about their holiday as well as wondering if he should bring up the privacy issue just yet. He doesn’t know, is never truly sure about these types of things. He could have a nice, normal conversation with his father or it could turn into another tense, stressful one. He’s had enough of those for a lifetime, but he also knows that he doesn’t have all of the time in the world to fix this. He’s got fewer than four months, really.

“It was wonderful,” he finally answers, his lips ticking up on one side. It really was wonderful to get away with Emma and only have each other for awhile despite the disaster that was their anniversary. It got better, though. It wasn’t completely bad. They had the sailing trip and the takeout meal that was better than anything else they’d eaten if only for how comfortable they both felt. He felt his son move for the first time, which was bloody brilliant and most definitely his new favorite thing. “It’s a gorgeous island. Emma mentioned something about asking you to make our beaches like that.”

Brennan barks out a laugh, the wrinkles on his face all gathering together while his gray hair shakes the slightest bit. If Killian was a betting man, he’d guess his dad is getting his hair cut in the next two or three days, keeping up with his lifelong schedule of haircuts. “If only I could. That would be bloody wonderful. But I like the way she thinks.”

“She’s definitely a brilliant dreamer.” He trails off toward the end of his sentence, looking down at his hand and twisting his ring around his finger, his constant physical reminder of his lifelong commitment to Emma, as if he really needs one. “Can I talk to you about something, dad?”

“Of course.”

“I know, well, I know that things were different when I was a kid, that technology wasn’t as advanced, that I was a bit of a surprise child and that you were on the older side when I was born.”

“Well, why don’t you just call me elderly then, Killian? And you have absolutely no proof that you were a surprise child.”

His dad laughs when he speaks, but Killian isn’t finding a lot of humor in it, knowing that he’s likely going to upset Brennan with his words.

“What I mean is, I know you weren’t really, truly involved in my life. And I’m not blaming you or trying to make you feel…upset, but I need a very particular kind of advice that really only you and mum or Liam and Abigail can give. And I’m honestly not even sure you can give it.”

“What’s wrong, Killian?”

He takes a moment to collect himself, hundreds of words on the tip of his tongue but none of them feeling quite right. But he has to say something, so he might as well speak the truth.

“How the hell am I supposed to be a father in a world where I can’t protect the privacy of my wife and my child? There were, um, photographers who rented out a house and used scopes to take pictures of us on the beach. And Emma and I got into a pretty nasty argument about it. She’s worried…I’m worried about Andrew’s privacy. We want him to live a life as normal as possible. We don’t want photographers following him to school or to the park, and I just – I don’t know how to fix it.”

He’s been clenching his fist all while he talks, the tenseness in his hand almost painful while hot tears form in his eyes, every fault and every insecurity he’s had long before the fight with Emma coming back and assaulting his senses, making everything a dark, cloudy blur.

Brennan looks calm, secure, the blue of his eyes not changing while his eyelids rapidly blink, his brows furrowing and the lines on his face increasing. Has he said too much? Shown too much emotion? Asked for the impossible?

“The fact that you have very obviously beaten yourself up about this proves that you are a better dad than I ever have been.”

“That’s not what I meant, dad. I didn’t – ”

“I know, Killian. I’m not taking offense to anything. I was a poor excuse for a father for the majority of your life. I was focused on Liam, on my job, on the protocol and the way that my father raised Albert and me. All I knew was that fathers were not supposed to be close to their children, and as much as that hurt me as a child, I stupidly believed it. The fact that you have forgiven me is something I still can’t believe.”

He leans over and places his hand on Brennan’s knee, patting him before leaning back and wiping at his eyes. “I did it for me, but with the way you’ve worked to change, you deserve it.”

“Thank you, my boy.” His father smiles, settling back into his chair and crossing his hands together in his lap. “But this is not about me. This is about you and your family. So you don’t want Andrew in the public eye? At all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“I mean, we haven’t discussed it in serious length, but yes. I’m sure that Emma will be okay with releasing the occasional photo or having him join us when we go overseas so we don’t have to be apart from him, but I think we’re going to have to take a step back in traditions. And when he gets older, I think we may need to move somewhere much more private.”

The front door opens then, the alarm beep sounding at the same time that he hears the click of nails and the squeak of sneakers as well as Emma’s voice. He straightens up, fixing his hunched back and sitting against the couch in as much of a relaxed position as he can.

“Go find, Killian, girl, yeah,” Emma coos, her voice getting louder the closer she gets to the living room. And then she’s in view, Indy running in first and jumping up on the couch before getting down once she spots Brennan, less familiar people always more exciting than him. Emma walks toward him, sitting down in the seat Indy just vacated and reaching around him to tangle her fingers in his hair, stroking the strands. “What’s wrong? Your shoulders are tensed.”

How the hell does she always know?

“Killian and I,” his father answers for him, seemingly understanding that Killian wasn’t sure what to say, “were simply talking about how you two seem to be suffering from some privacy issues and are worried about your child’s future, that you want Andrew to lead a more private life than normal.”

“Oh,” Emma gulps, her hand stilling in his hair before beginning again, “well, yeah. I know that we all grew up differently and that my childhood isn’t really an option, but that’s what I want, what we want. We want him to be able to be a kid, you know? I don’t want him to be used to cameras everywhere he goes. I don’t know how we’d fix that, but that’s definitely my top priority right now. And forever probably.”

His hand finds Emma’s knee, thumb running back and forth over the material of her leggings while she speaks. He’s here with her, for her, consistently, and he hopes that she knows this.

“Why don’t you two give me some time to think things over? I’ll meet with security. We’ll work out some plans and ideas. You two should probably talk to Liam and Abigail. It’s not, well, it won’t be exactly the same. You have more freedom than them, and they’re not quite as private as the two of you. But they do have experience in all of this.” “Thank you, Brennan,” Emma sighs, leaning back into the couch and scratching at his neck, his eyes fluttering closed for a quick moment.

“Of course, but at the end of the day, above everything else, we’re a family. How you two feel is far more important than any sort of duty and tradition we have, even if I do ask that we stick to the important ones.”

“Actually, I have something else that I want to talk about.”

His head snaps to her, eyes searching for what she has to say, but she’s not looking at him, her gaze trained on the wag of Indy’s tail while her fingers tap over his on her leg, the hand in his hair having stilled.

“What do you want to talk about, love?”

She looks at him then, the smallest of smiles on her face that comforts him the slightest bit, before directing her gaze to Brennan. “I don’t want to walk out of the hospital all made up hours after giving birth. Kudos to Abigail. She is a badass woman for that, but that’s not what I want. Andy doesn’t need to be exposed to so many people as a newborn. I don’t need to be all dressed up when I’ve just given birth. I don’t care about tradition when it comes to this. This is what I’m doing, and I really feel like it’s the first step in taking a stand about him not being some kind of public property.”

He didn’t know she felt that way about any of that, nearly every word she said news to him, but he gets it, supports it. If that’s what Emma wants for this, that’s what they’ll do. He’s never quite understood that tradition anyways, and he likes the idea of a more private celebration with just them and their families while Emma heals and they adjust to the terrifying process of being parents for the first time.

“I’m not sure we can do that, dear.”

“What?” His head snaps over to his dad, trying to process the words. “You literally just said that how we feel is more important than any duty we have.”

“But that we need to stick to the important traditions, yes. New family members are an important tradition.”

“Brennan,” Emma grits, her voice strained as she tries to keep it friendly, “I respect our family and all of the traditions we have, but I am not some kind of human machine who’s only here to produce babies. Yes, of course this is a big deal, but it’s a big deal for us as a personal family, not as some part of the institution. You can still put the sign up, make any and all announcements you want. Hell, I’ll release a picture if we have to, but all I’m asking is that we’re allowed to leave and travel home in peace.”

“I agree, dad. I mean, really. Of all of the things we break and bend, of all of the things we change, surely you can let this one thing go? It’s not hundreds of years ago where people are faking pregnancies and paternities to keep the line intact, which was ridiculous then. I think letting family be family is the most important thing, don’t you?”

“Aye, it’s just…you’ll have to forgive me.” Brennan runs his hand over his face, visibly warring something within himself, the lines on his face stressing. “You were right earlier when you said things are different now. These are not things that I really went through with you, not as prevalent as you. Emma, dear, I’m sorry. I don’t…I shouldn’t have ever considered making you do something you’re not comfortable with. I love you dearly, and you and Killian know what’s best here, not me.”

“I don’t want to disappoint you,” Emma says, getting up from the couch and sitting down on the edge of the coffee table so that she can squeeze Brennan’s hand. “You are so brilliant, and you uphold this family so well. I know that I’m different, that it was difficult to accept me, but change can be good, you know?”

“I know.”

Brennan stays for a little while longer, hashing out a few more details with them before accepting a cup of tea and some food, finally listening to them talk about their holiday all the while scratching behind Indy’s ears, her eyes closed in bliss the entire time. It’s peaceful, relaxing, and he feels his shoulders loosen the longer the conversation goes on, Emma’s laughter and joyful voice sounding throughout the room. In the back of his mind, though, he keeps replaying the conversation, thinking of everything he said, everything they all said, and he’s amazed it all went as smoothly as it did, surprised that his father acquiesced to their private exit from the hospital so easily. He had no idea that Emma wanted that, and he wonders how long she’s been toying with the idea, how many late nights she’s spent worrying about bringing it up. He knows she didn’t just think of it now, that it wasn’t spur of the moment, and he tries to remind himself to ask her about it later, to make sure that there’s nothing else she’s hoarding inside.

She goes through enough, has gone through enough over the years, and she shouldn’t feel like she has to hold things back from him.

But he saves his thoughts for later, letting his dad leave and letting Emma take a nap, her eyes falling shut without her even laying down on the couch. He wakes her before she can get into too deep of a sleep, though, knowing that it’ll hurt her back, and helps her go upstairs to their room, ignoring the curses she’s muttering under her breath about him waking her up. While she sleeps, he goes downstairs to his office, answering emails and clearing out his inbox that he left alone while they were in Spain.

Summer is normally a slow time for them, June and July full of engagements while August is usually taken off to spend in Balmoral. Emma’s due in September, though, a few days after his birthday, and she’s not working after August begins. He is, though, doing his regular work and making a few short trips, making sure never to never travel more than three hours away in case he needs to be home.

But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have things to do now, organizing his files and reviewing the financials for Kidding a Goal until Indy comes walking into his office, her nails clicking against the wood until she’s staring up at him with her mouth wide open, tongue practically falling out of her mouth. He checks his watch and sees that it’s far past seven. He’s surprised she didn’t come and get him two hours ago.

“You ready to eat, my girl?”

That gets her tail wagging before she takes off, running toward the kitchen at such a pace that she’s probably there before he even gets up from his chair. Sure enough, she’s already waiting next to her bowl like the most well-behaved dog in the world, which is not something he expected when he and Emma decided to get a dog last year. But she’s done well, their training working most of the time, but Indy does have the tendency to lick his face when he’s sleeping. He’s not a fan of that.

But she’s his best bud and a constant companion on his runs, so it all evens out.

After feeding her, he hears footsteps coming down the stairs, Emma wandering into the kitchen with sleep-rumpled hair and pillow streaks on her face, her pajama top falling off of one shoulder. She immediately heads toward the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water and some yogurt before settling down on a barstool.

“How’d you sleep?”

She grunts in response, opening her yogurt and eating a large spoonful. “I hate being pregnant sometimes.”

“So not well then?”

“Nope. I felt like my guts were all being squeezed out, but do you know who’s not moving now that I’m awake and out of bed?”

“Andy.”

“Yep.”

She keeps eating her yogurt, quickly finishing it up before getting another carton. He should probably fix something for dinner so she doesn’t consume the entire yogurt supply in their fridge.

“Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles, pulling her spoon out of her mouth and looking up at him, her hair deflating the slightest bit from when she came down.

“You want to tell me what that was earlier? With my dad. When did you decide you didn’t want to do the public announcement?”

“Oh, um, I first thought about it a few weeks ago, but it was really driven home after last week. Why? You have an issue with it?”

“No,” he laughs, leaning down across from her and propping his elbows on the counter. “I think it’s bloody brilliant, that you are brilliant. I like that you want to do things your way…our way. It’s very sexy.” “Oh boy, if you’re looking to get laid right now that is not happening.”

“Well damn. Now I have no reason to compliment you.”

“Shut up,” she groans, tossing her spoon over into the sink, the metal clanking. “But seriously, you’re okay with all that, right?”

“Of course. I want you to do what makes you comfortable. I’m not the one giving birth.”

“Damn right. I think I’m going to give your dad a heart attack though.”

“Aye, definitely. I know he’s trying and he’s being accommodating, but I could practically see the fear of breaking traditions rolling off of him in anxiety-filled waves. But he’s seventy-three. Some things just aren’t going to change.”

“So basically we hit the jackpot today?”

“Yep.” He walks over to the fridge, opening it up and seeing what they have left over from before they left. “What do you want for dinner?”

-/-

“Bloody buggering hell,” he curses, bringing his thumb to his mouth and soothing where he just jammed his finger on the wood.

Building a crib should not be this difficult, but it apparently is. He’s been following the instructions exactly, making sure that each piece is doubly secure, and he’s not sure how it’s taking this long. He should be finished, this crib should be made, and he should be able to move onto the shelves or Emma’s glider that she was insistent on them getting.

He’s spent more time in this room in the past month than he has in any other room in the house, June somehow running away with itself all while he’s been hidden away within these four walls. It took a month and a half for he and Emma to decide on a simple light gray, one that he’s pretty sure is also in their bedroom, but honestly, once they both agreed on the color (likely because they have agreed on it once before), he wasn’t going to say anything else. He did pick out the gray-ish blue that’s on the wall with the shelves (or at least where they’ll go once he gets to them), so he’s pretty proud of it.

Neither he or Emma are much one for designing, though they have gotten a bit more into it since the remodel of the apartment, but he’s pretty proud of how Andy’s room is shaping up, even if the lad will stay in the bassinet in their room for awhile. It’s a simple room, clean lines and clean colors. All of the furniture are different shades of white and warm browns, woods really, with natural accents. Abigail gifted them a large wooden giraffe along with some leaf and animal prints, so those are sitting in the corner waiting to be placed after all of this furniture is built.

His favorite part, though, is definitely going to be the little sitting area by the shelves and the changing table. He’s not under any impression that this is going to be a calm room, a place to relax, but he figures there have to be times when he’s rocking Andy back to sleep in that very spot, the shelves filled with colorful children’s books that’ll become routine reading one day as well as being filled with several stuffed animals and photo frames that he can’t wait to update with pictures. Of course, the cabinets below will be filled with the essentials, the things no one likes to talk about like diapers and nipple cream (that was something Emma did not want to know about, and he honestly doesn’t blame her), but they’re definitely still in the dreamy, picture perfect nursery phase where the messiness of a child isn’t quite a factor.

Really to him, as much as he knows this is real, as much as he sees the physical proof, feels the physical proof (which holy shit is it incredible to be able to feel his son move), it’s still difficult for him to comprehend that in two months he and Emma will have a child. It’s something they’ve talked about for years, something they were planning on, but it’s difficult to put into words just how much love he has for his son.

And his wife.

She’s a rockstar in every sense of the word, and if he doesn’t mention it enough, Emma sure as hell will. He loves her fiercely, and that love is another thing that he can’t quite put into words. He honestly doesn’t understand men who moan and groan about their wives constantly. If anything, he finds it disgusting. Yes, you’re going to have disagreements with your significant other. That’s natural when you decide to spend your life with someone who has their own wants, needs, and opinions, but at the end of the day, his wife is his best friend. If there’s anyone he wants to spend time with, it’s her. No question.

If the answer to who your best friend isn’t your spouse or the person you’re marrying, he doesn’t understand why the hell you’d bother getting married. His mates are great, but they’re not Emma.

Maybe he is a bit of the cheeseball that Emma always claims him to be, but he likes it that way.

He’s definitely going to embarrass his kids. All of the time. He can’t wait. He’s got a few years, but he can’t wait.

“You know we can hire someone to do this, right?” Emma asks, a bit of laughter in her tone that makes him roll his eyes. His best friend, most definitely. The teasing is just a small part of that.

“Aye, but I’ve started it, and I intend on finishing it.” “Okay, but the crib doesn’t need to fall apart while there’s a baby inside of it, and the glider doesn’t need to fall apart while I’m sitting on it. That’s, like, a double disaster, and I know you lived by yourself for a long time, but I’m pretty sure you’re not capable of that anymore.”

“Oh, really? Because I was just going to make them as unsafe as possible so that I could live by myself again. I miss being able to stretch out in the bed.”

“You’re so funny,” she teases from the other side of the nursery where she’s putting away the washed clothes in the closet, organizing them by size. He swears they have enough clothes to last Andy for the first two years of his life, and that’s not counting the piles of things he knows David and Mary Margaret have at their house. “I think I may have bought him too much stuff. I don’t even think I own this many things.”

“You don’t mess your clothes up multiple times a day.”

“Good point.”

“I tend to make those.”

“Eh. Debatable.”

“Not at all debatable.” He turns back to the crib, looking at the instructions to see if he can remember where he left off before Emma distracted him. “Shit, this is impossible.”

“I can call my dad, babe. It won’t be a problem. He’s a bit handier than you.”

“Please, I am plenty handy.”

“Okay, well being handy with me is not the same as being handy when it comes to building things.”

“If we call your dad, he’s going to take over. I want to do some of this myself.”

“I will tell Dad just to help. Come on, babe, you love spending time with my dad.”

“Only now that he doesn’t give me the scary speeches anymore.”

“Yeah, I bet those were a lot of fun.”

“I mean, it’s been a solid half a decade since I’ve gotten one, but he still shakes me to my core.”

He hears Emma laugh, snort really, before she makes her way over to him, slowly settling down on the floor next to him and waving her hand until he gives her the instructions. She looks over them while looking at the crib, her eyes continuously darting between the two.

“You put part G in backwards. That’s why nothing after that is fitting.”

“Bloody hell,” he curses, reaching over and taking the instructions from her hand and checking to see if she really did just solve his problem, “how did you see that when I’ve been staring at it for the past hour?”

“Fresh eyes, my love. Fresh eyes.” She leans forward and kisses his cheek before falling back against the wall. “And that’s exactly why calling my dad and asking him to come over in the morning will be a great idea. I bet Mom will want to come too, and she does a mean job with a power drill.”

So Emma calls her parents who agree to come over in the morning. On top of moving, they’ve also begun to change around the hours of the pub, opening it earlier and letting Will close it out at night. And it’s because of this that they show up at eight in the morning, he and Emma both still asleep when their doorbell rings. Emma groans when she hears it, burying her face into his chest and making it impossible for him to get up without disturbing her. He can feel Andy summersaulting around in her belly, and he smiles to himself knowing that she’s going to have get up. She can’t sleep when he’s moving around like that.

He can’t sleep when Emma’s basically running marathons in bed, but that’s not something he’s going to voice out loud. He can get up and sleep in a guest room if he needs to. Emma can’t get up and walk away from the person who’s running marathons in her stomach.

There’s two human feet inside of her. That’s pretty weird if he thinks about it too much.

Okay, so really weird.

Slowly but surely he gets out of bed, letting Emma flip over into his spot, and heads downstairs to open the front door. David and Mary Margaret have a key, but they never use it, always waiting for either he or Emma to open the door for them, which he appreciates after one too many times having them walk in on he and Emma.

“Hi,” he greets, opening the door and ushering them inside. “Emma’s still asleep, but I’m sure she’ll wake up soon. Do you guys want some breakfast?”

“We ate at home, sweetie,” Mary Margaret greets, giving him a quick hug before David does the same. “So Emma said you guys were having some issues in the nursery.”

“I believe that it was more like Killian not being able to put together a crib in under three weeks.”

“So funny, Dave,” he bites, rolling his eyes and locking the door. “I did eventually figure it out. I just think this mid-July heat is obviously getting to me. Or maybe nerves. I’m not too sure.”

“Well, let’s go help then. We’ve got to be at the pub at two, but I think we should be able to get things done.”

After he fixes himself some coffee, not nearly as wide awake as David and Mary Margaret, they head upstairs and begin working in the nursery, assembling the shelves and drilling them into the walls in half the time that it would have taken he and Emma had they done this by themselves. So maybe help isn’t all bad. Before Emma even wakes up, they have the shelves installed and pictures securely nailed on the wall. There are books already being stacked, stuffed animals and knick knacks being placed, and all of the fun nipple creams and breast pumps being placed in the cabinet.

They’re working on the glider when Emma finally wanders in, her hair falling out of its band so that half of it spills down her back while the other half is piled on top of her head, and she’s got her glasses on, something she only does when her eyes feel too puffy to put her contacts in.

“Hey, sweetheart,” David greets, finishing tightening the screw he’s working on before getting up to embrace Emma. “How are you feeling?”

“Rough today. I think the little dude’s a giant or something because he crushes my lungs and my bladder at the same time. So I can’t breathe, and I have to pee. So, yeah, it’s fun.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, dad. It looks fantastic in here. You guys have done so much. I feel like we’re not going to have anything to do in the next two months if we finish all of this.”

“That’s kind of the point, love.”

“Yeah,” she yawns, covering her mouth, “I know. Mom, do you want to come and rest with me in my room? My back hurts today, and I just can’t sit on the floor in here with you guys.” “Of course, hon,” Mary Margaret answers, walking away from the closet and stepping over to Emma before she rubs up and down her back. “Are you sure you don’t want Killian to join you? David and I would be fine to work on our own.”

“No, it’s fine. I bug him all day, and I’m kind of thinking that you can paint my toes for me or we can watch movies or something. It’s been awhile since we’ve done that.”

“Text me if you need me, love,” he tells Emma, his eyes tracing over her in a bit of concern. It’s difficult watching her be uncomfortable or miserable on some days when he literally can’t do anything about it.

“Yeah, babe, I will.”

Emma and Mary Margaret walk out of the room, their voices fading away as they walk into their bedroom one room over, and he’s left with just David who promptly gets back to work finishing building the chair. Music plays in the background, an eighties’ playlist he thinks, and it doesn’t take longer before the chair is completely together and he’s sitting in it testing it out. It’s comfortable, probably one of the best seats they have in the house, and he can definitely understand why Emma insisted on this one after shopping around a bit.

“How does someone so small have so much stuff?”

“My child is twenty-eight years old, we don’t even live in her childhood home anymore, and I swear things of hers still pop up all of the time.”

“That’s likely because Emma leaves everything all over the place.”

He folds his hands behind his head, closing his eyes and rocking back and forth while Cherry Bomb plays in the background, which is definitely not a nursery appropriate song. Or maybe it is. Who needs Mozart when you can have The Runaways?

“So is Emma like that every day?”

“Like what?” he asks, popping an eye open to look at David who’s sitting against the shelves, which can’t be good for his back. God, how old is he getting if his first concern is for someone else’s back?

“Exhausted.”

“No, not every day. She’s usually got a hell of a lot of energy, even if there’s always a nap. I think she had a restless night. She’ll tell me like it is, though. If she’s having a bad day, she’ll let us know.” “What about you?”

“Well, I don’t have a baby crushing my lungs and my bladder.”

“True,” David laughs, running his hands through his short hair. Killian swears it’s gotten more gray in the past year, the blonde nearly disappearing. David is only fifty-two, so he’s not exactly older. Hell, if it weren’t for the wrinkles on his forehead and the gray hairs outnumbering the blonde, he’d look much younger. “But I remember being a dad for the first time. It’s terrifying, so you’re allowed to be scared.”

“I am. It’s…” He reaches up and scratches behind his ear, his hair getting long enough that he knows he needs to get a haircut soon. “Emma and I try to make sure that we keep up our normal routines, that we have our normal conversations without talking too much about the baby, but it’s kind of hard, you know? It’s like we’ll be talking about going out to eat and two minutes later we’re making a list of middle names or speculating if he’s going to look more like me or Emma.”

“I know. But it’s an exciting time, Killian. There will never be anything like it, and if you want to talk about the fact that you’re having a kid, you should. You and Emma have been together for so long, and I really don’t think your relationship is going to struggle if you’re not sitting around making references no one else understands for hours on end.”

“Oi,” he protests, resisting the urge to pick up the toy elephant next to him and throw it at David, “that is your daughter you’re mocking, and she can still kick your ass.”

“Trust me, I know. Who do you think raised her to be like that?”

“Mary Margaret.”

“You’re walking a thin line.”

He winks at David, his lips ticking up on the right into a smirk. “I know. You and Mary Margaret did such a good job, still do such a good job, and even with all of the times you’ve messed up – ”

“ – which is a lot more often than even Emma has probably told you.”

“I just…you’re a good dad, Dave. To Emma, to me. I hope I can do half as good as a job.”

“You’ll be great, Killian.” David smiles at him, something genuine, and Killian’s reminded of how much David really has impacted his life in all of the best ways. “I promise. And as much as I love you, I do love my little girl more, and she’s going to be amazing. She’s always…she’s never been too open to a lot of people, but the people she loves, she loves so fiercely, you know? And she’s already doing so well at being a mom. She’ll call me at nights, and I can just hear the happiness and excitement in her voice. At the end of the day, that’s all you want, you know? For your kid to be healthy and happy.”

“Yeah, I know.” He smiles to himself, thinking of how happy he is. “Also, how dare you imply that you love your own daughter more than me. I thought I meant more to you than that. I thought we had something special, man.”

“I can still give you hell. I’d watch yourself.”

He and David finish up in the nursery for the next few hours until David and Mary Margaret have to go to work, leaving after the three of them eat lunch down in the kitchen, Emma staying upstairs for a nap. When the Nolans are gone and he’s finished eating, he heads upstairs, bypassing the nursery and walking into their bedroom where Emma is sitting up on the bed watching TV.

“Your toes look nice,” he compliments, grabbing onto her big toe and moving it back and forth. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” she sighs, twisting onto her back and scooting up the bed, “it’s just one of those days, you know? I’m not usually this miserable.”

“I know, but it’s okay to have bad days, love.”

“Come here,” she tells him, crooking her fingers and motioning toward him before she turns on her side and wraps her arms around her pillow. He does as she asks, kicking off his sneakers and crawling up into the bed, the mattress moving against his weight until he’s pressed up behind her, his knee stuck between her thighs and his arm wrapped around her waist while the other rests above her head. This is how she’s been comfortable lately, and he can’t say he minds. “Did you guys get a lot done?”

“Aye, it’s almost all finished.” He moves her hair off of her neck, placing a kiss there before resting his chin on her shoulder. “It just needs your finishing touches, I think.”

“And we have to unpack all of the boxes that are in the guest room and put them away in the closet.” “That too, but we’ve got time, Emma.” She hums, and he can feel the vibrations as well as Andy moving around under his touch, the movements following how he taps his fingers. “Has he been active today?”

“Not since I woke up, but he always responds to your voice.” “Yeah, he recognizes me?”

“Of course, you talk so damn much. How could he not?”

He turns his head and presses a kiss against her jaw, biting a bit just to tease her. “You are not a very nice woman, my love.”

“Oh please, I’m, like, the seventh nicest person you know.”

“Seventh?”

“I figured it was conceited to put me at number one.”

“Possibly.” He moves his hand against her stomach again, snaking his fingers up under her pajama top so that he can feel the warmth of her skin. “So he really does get more active when I talk?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty weird to think about, but it’s true. He likes when you talk. I think it’s because you’re a much better story teller than me.” “I mean, obviously.”

“And that he’s probably just glad to hear someone else besides me. Imagine being stuck with someone for nine months. Good God.”

“Well, I’m stuck with you for forever. Good God.”

She groans and curses him under his breath before she scoots over and turns in his arms, slowly but surely moving to face him. “Don’t be an asshole. Also, so I was talking to mom today, and she wants to be called Mimi. I think Dad wants to be called Papa, which I like as long as that’s not what you want. I know that’s what some kids call their dads.”

“Aye, it’s what Lizzie calls Liam, which is weird since Alex doesn’t do that. But I’m okay with dad or daddy, so David can be called Papa.”

“Yeah, I kind of like it. Mimi and Papa. And then your parents are Gammy and Grandpa, right? That’s what Alex and Lizzie call them.”

“Aye, but I know Mom didn’t want to be Gammy. It’s just what happened. She says it makes her feel old.”

“Your mom is not old.”

“I know, but considering your parents are barely fifty while my parents are in their sixties and seventies, it doesn’t help.”

“I’ll tell my parents to get older then.”

He smiles at her before closing his eyes and settling into his pillow, letting his head sink down into the softness. It’s calming in here, the lights turned off and curtains closed while the ceiling fan hums a steady rhythm above them. He could fall asleep like this even if he’s not the biggest fan of naps, always somehow ending up groggy when he wakes up, and it doesn’t help with the way that Emma is playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her fingers scratching into his scalp.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He pops an eye open, looking at Emma and smiling when her nail hits a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. “Aye, I’ve got the Investiture ceremony at ten. Why?”

“Just wondering. I was thinking we could go somewhere. Just us. Maybe take Indy to Berkshire and let her run around, spend some time outside.” “We can do it in the afternoon, if you want. I think the weather is supposed to be nice.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, leaning forward and sliding her lips over his for a brief moment, “I think that would be nice.”

The next day after he’s finished with the ceremony, he hurries home, changing out of his suit and into shorts and a t-shirt, slipping a baseball cap onto his head and grabbing something to eat for lunch while Emma does the same, her hair falling out of the back of her hat in a long ponytail. They’ve got all day, but the afternoon’s weather is pleasant enough that he’d like to go now so they can stop by a café for dinner, even if that’s the absolute last thing that Thomas will want them to do.

They want their privacy, but they should be able to go out to dinner.

So he and Emma load up into his car, letting Indy sit in the backseat with the window rolled down so she can feel the mid-July breeze blow through her fur. It doesn’t take long to get to Windsor, pulling into their parking garage less than thirty minutes later, and instead of going inside like they’d usually do, he hooks Indy up to her leash while Emma grabs some water bottles and they head to the private gardens, avoiding the visitors wandering around on tours.

As much as he prefers the spring, mild July days are near the top of his list of favorite things. Everything is brighter, more pleasant. The grass is actually greener, the flowers contrasting against their background to create a landscape of whites and shades of purple, while everything is covered in a clear blue sky, only a few white clouds scattered throughout. New life blooms, and he gets to be the one to appreciate it, to revel in it. England can be so dreary sometimes, the weather somehow reflecting the moods of most people on their morning commute to work, so he appreciates when it’s not. He’s always loved the outdoors, and if there’s any complaint he has about his home, it’s the small private garden that they have to themselves. He’d like something larger, more space to run around, and sometime in the future, he and Emma plan to spend more time in Bucklebury so that they have the privacy.

That’s what they’ve decided on since returning from Spain last month. There’s been more lengthy, draining discussions with his parents and their security team than he’s ever wanted, and as much as he feels like they haven’t really accomplished anything, he knows it’s a slow process. Of course, there are drawbacks to every positive. They’re still going to have to spend most of their time at Kensington. It’s closer to their work, to their families. Hell, Emma’s parents just bought a house so that they could have the ability to spend time with their grandchild, and now they’re going to move away from them. It’s less than an hour drive, but it’s not nearly as close as they currently are.

But everyone understands, and they don’t plan on moving any time soon, not until Andy’s a bit older. They want to be near all of their loved ones when he’s younger, and they’ve spent so much time working on their home, making it exactly how they want. It’d be difficult to leave full time, so it’ll be nice to have the option of both.

It’ll be even nicer to give Andy the most normal life that they can possibly give him.

Emma whistles next to him, her fingers between her lips, while Indy runs back to them from where they let her loose. She was about five seconds away from jumping into a pond full of fish, and as much as they’d usually let her swim, they don’t need to have a wet dog with them for the rest of the day. So she runs back to them as quickly as she can, her legs leaping in the air with her black and white fur bouncing the slightest bit. He’s convinced that she shouldn’t be able to be that quick, but she’s still just a young dog, less than a year old, and though her legs will get longer, he doesn’t think she’ll ever be full of this much energy again.

If she is, he and Emma are definitely in over their heads.

With the dog.

He’s going to choose to not think of what it’ll be like with a toddler than can run and a dog that he can run after.

After she calms from her almost pond dive, Indy walks along in front of the two of them, occasionally wandering off the stone path to sniff around in the plants, nearly tearing up several flowers until they call her back to keep walking. They stay wandering for a little over two hours, not caring where exactly they’re going or if they’re circling back around in the same spots. Indy and Emma get tired around the same time, so they settle down onto a stone bench with a patio cover that’s next to another small pond.

In the distance, he can see the Chapel where they were married, the steeple rising up above the other buildings and stone walls, and he smiles to himself thinking of that day. In the grand scheme of things, he knows that when it comes to he and Emma, as important as it was, they had so many smaller, inconsequential days that he holds just as fondly in his heart.

But that was a pretty damn good day.

He stretches his arm out over the back of the bench, wrapping it around Emma’s shoulder and tangling his fingers into the ends of her ponytail while she leans her head on his shoulder, the bill of her hat hitting him in the chin for a brief moment. He’s glad she suggested them getting away from London for a little bit, for suggesting that they change up the routine and spend a day enjoying summer, especially since they’re missing out on Scotland with the rest of the family.

A month in the same place as everyone is likely a bit long, anyways. He loves his family, but that’s a lot for anyone.

“I love you, you know?” Emma asks out of nowhere, her gaze never falling away from the rippling of the water in front of them, a fish leaping up out of the water while the lily pads float around.

He squeezes her shoulder, rubbing up and down her arm and kissing her head even if she can’t feel it through the hat. “I know. I love you too.”

#second in command #cs ff #cs fic #captain swan fic

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