#if Chevel shows up he's never far behind

[blackhazefanblog]

I noticed that Marquis Hadelio has appeared in every single arc of Black Haze besides the first. The man’s love for his son is legendary as ever.

Secretary: Sir Marquis Hadelio-

Marquis: What? Not now. I’m busy.

Secretary: Your son-

Marquis: GET THE TELEPORTATION CIRCLE READY I’LL BE RIGHT THERE-

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Void of Extinction by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 2/9

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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Chapter 2: Mother

“Good morning James, it is time to get up.”

James woke to the sunlight beaming on his face, stretching his arms to the sky as he groaned. He sat up in bed, wiping his face with the palm of his hand to wake himself from sleep. He slid his legs to the side, feeling his toes touch the light carpet beneath the bed. Shaking his head, he stood from the bed. “Status report.”

“It is currently 9am, pollution level 68%, you have no appointments today.”

“Bloody hell.” He groaned. “What happened to my 7am alarm?”

“You cancelled that alarm, James. Your alarm was set for 9am to begin work at 10am.”

“I cancelled it…” He stood in the middle of his room. “When did I cancel the bloody alarm?”

“I show you cancelled the alarm at 1:30am and set a new alarm for 9am.”

“What the bloody…” He didn’t remember doing anything at 1:30 am. As far as he knew he had been sleeping. He sat down on the chair next to him, running a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes, trying to remember anything happening during the evening that would have caused him to reset his alarm. The longer he thought about it, the more his head hurt. He didn’t need a migraine this morning, he was already late for work now.

He dressed quickly, exiting his apartment to head to the diner.

He was certain that Granny was going to fire him for being this late. When he stepped into the diner she shook her head and pointed to the kitchen.

“You need to get that alarm of yours fixed.”

“Yes Ma’am. I’m going to call a repairman straight away.”

“Get to work.”

The rest of his shift went as usual, James stayed two hours after his shift to assist Granny with the late evening rush, feeling guilty about being late once again. Once the diner had died down, he gathered his coat and was headed to the door. A man sitting in a corner booth caught his attention. It wasn’t that he recognized the man, not entirely, but he seemed familiar.

Something about him gave him a sense of Déjà vu. The headache blinded him as he tried to access the information, the man took notice of him as he grabbed ahold of the nearest bench, trying to steady himself.

“Oi, you look like you could use some help.”

“I’m fine.” He tried to brush him off, pushing the door to the diner open and stepping into the busy street. The man followed him, which annoyed James. “I said I’m fine.”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Mate.”

He glanced at the man, narrowing his eyes, there was something about him. “I’m…” The headache blinded him again and he staggered to the edge of the diner, walking back toward his car, and reaching in his pocket for his inhibitor.

“I wouldn’t take that.” The man warned behind him.

“Who are you?” He asked angrily, tripping backwards against his car.

“I’m Will, we spoke the other day. I just want to talk to you about Emma.”

James fell to his knees as it felt like pins and needles were attacking his body, he pulled the inhibitor toward his arm and the man reached down and grabbed at the injector. “Get away from me, what are you doing?”

“Killian, don’t inject that.”

The name shook him, pictures flashed in his brain, the blonde-haired woman from his dreams staring at him with emerald, green eyes, the name falling from her lips like it somehow belonged to him. Killian. He was losing his mind. He pressed the injector to his arm and pushed, a loud hiss emitting as the cool liquid entered his veins. He fell back against the car, exhaling with a groan.

“Dammit mate, I’m trying to help you.”

“You stay away from me before I call the cops.”

“Bloody hell…look, the more you inject that stuff, the more you forget. They messed with your brain, made you all foggy and shite.” James stared at the man as if he had just grown two heads. “You keep getting headaches right? Things don’t add up, and when you think about them, you get a headache.”

“You’re bloody crazy.” He stood up, grabbing the door to his car and yanking it open. “Stay the hell away from me.”

“Will Scarlet.” He shouted before James shut the door.

“Will what?”

“My name, Will Scarlet. Write it down or something.” He turned and left the alley, running in the opposite direction of the diner.

James shook his head, looking at his reflection in the rear-view mirror. Write it down.

He didn’t need to write it down, did he? The man was a lunatic. But…he knew about the headaches; how did he know about them? How did he know that things were out of place?

He looked around the floor of his vintage car, trying to find anything to write with. People thought he was crazy for hanging onto a relic from the 1900’s. It cost him a fortune to repair it. And somehow he knew how to fix everything on his Chevy Chevelle, but anytime he tried to remember how he knew, the headaches came.

He found a marker lying under the mat of the passenger side, grabbing it, he tried to find something to write on. With the absence of paper, he ripped the sleeve of his shirt up and scribbled against his flesh in black ink.

Will Scarlet

~*~

“It’s not like him to be gone for this long without contacting me. Even if he were working on something, he would have mentioned it.”

“Could the resistance have removed him from the playing field?” Mayor Mills asked from her place at her desk.

“Was he working on a case that had to do with the resistance?” David questioned.

David’s new partner, Killian Jones had been missing for weeks now, no message, no contact, just gone. Killian had been quiet about his most recent case; he knew it had something to do with a contact who had reached out to him, and Killian was following a lead, but he wasn’t ready to share information yet. He hadn’t known the man long, he was aware that he was mostly a private person, but he would never just take off without talking to the Captain first.

“Officer Jones case was confidential. We need to find him but keep it quiet. Killian could have found something that could destroy the Resistance, we have to get to him before they do.” She turned to the holo screen in front of her.

David glanced at the screen in front of the Mayor. “Resistance riders made it past the walls?” He inquired nervously.

“Yes, last night we had a breach on the west side. Officer Locksley apprehended two of them. But the rest got away.”

“What were they after?”

“Trying to take down the security net near the harbor. I suspect they have a group in the foglands.”

“What are the plans to take that out?”

“No plans. We’ll let Hive do that for us.”

David exhaled, a look of shock on his face. “You want to work with the Hive?”

“Of course not.” She snorted. “But, when you have an infestation, it’s easier to let the predators take each other out. It’s the natural order of things.”

“I don’t trust the Hive any more than I trust the Resistance.”

“Officer Nolan, The Hive operate outside the walls, they remove the danger before it breaches our city. And if something were to sneak its way inside, to infest our people with lies and misinformation, we have the Gold Collective to remove it, for the good of Storybrooke.”

“That’s another group I don’t trust, how is it for the good of Storybrooke to let them make pod people!” He exclaimed.

“The Void are able to become trustful members of our society again, the Gold Collective has done a great service to our community. And as far as the Hive are concerned, as long as they continue to operate outside our walls, I welcome their removal of our shared problem.”

“So how are either of them any different than the Resistance?”

The Mayor stood. “The idea of the Resistance threatens to destroy everything we hold dear. If even a single one of them is left standing, everyone we know and love, our values, our safety, are in danger. They will bring the plague to Storybrooke, they cannot be trusted, and they must be destroyed.”

David nodded, taking his leave as he returned to the lower levels of the station. He knew that Regina was right, the Resistance stood to destroy everything they had worked so hard to build after the plague hit. He knew that locking people out, building the walls, was not something that the town initially embraced. He too felt guilty when they seemed to doom so many on the other side of the wall. But they had to protect their town.

When the Gold Collective first appeared, run by a man with no past yet unlimited money, taking people off the streets and experimenting on them, the Mayor went after them with the full force of the Storybrooke PD. Then the Hive came. They had kept the Hive from breaching the station walls, drove them back behind the walls and ended their yearlong power grab.

But then a strange thing started happening, townsfolk who had disappeared, those who had been experimented on during the war, returned, with no memory of who they were. Loved ones who no longer recognized their family or friends.

The Mayor came out publicly, condemning the Collective for their interference with her citizens, and then six months later, quietly began accepting the practice. David didn’t know what had changed, only that Regina seemed to think that whatever Gold and his collective was doing, was protecting them. The people who had disappeared were a danger to society, conspirators who agreed with the Resistance, they needed to be stopped before their reckless behavior allowed the plague to spread inside the walls of Storybrooke.

And so, they stopped searching for the agents of the collective, when someone showed up without their memories, the town simply helped to get them acclimated to their work. People turned a blind eye to the reason they went missing, accepting them as new members of their society.

At the same time, the Hive stopped advancing on the town, disappearing into the shadows on the other side of the town’s walls.

Only the Resistance fought back, the war outside the walls between the two factions was escalating. At night they could see the fires burning beyond the mountains. The smoke had become so heavy that they could no longer see the horizon over the water. The area became known as the foglands. The heavily guarded wasteland that the Resistance currently controlled.

Many nights they would send raids to the walls, trying to take down the security net that connected the walls. The resistance would not stop until it fell. And if the walls fell, the plague would take them all.

He had not heard of a single soul surviving the plague. No cure had been found. Without the walls, they would all die. The Resistance had to be stopped.

His com unit beeped, alerting him that he had reached his destination. Stepping out of the electric vehicle he walked the stairs to his home. Opening the door, he smelled the fragrant aroma of chicken baking in the back of the house. He could hear his wife’s voice in the background, the alluring melody of the song she was humming making his heart smile with joy.

When he turned the corner, Mary Margaret had her back to him, swaying back and forth to the music she was singing softly to. He crept up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in her neck. “Mmm it smells wonderful in here.”

She melted into him, humming lightly. “You’re late, darling.”

“I’m sorry, I had a meeting with Regina.”

“And what did the Mayor want with my husband.” She sang softly.

“The usual, how to destroy the Resistance.” He chuckled and then paused. “But she’s more concerned about Officer Killian at the moment.”

She turned in his arms, a grave look on her face. “Is he still missing? Hasn’t it been weeks, David.”

“I know. Regina thinks the Resistance might have gotten to him.” He sighed. “I hope she’s wrong. I’m worried about him, it’s not like him to just go silent.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been to his apartment, the diner on 5th, the Chinese place he goes to, no one has seen him in weeks.” He sat down at the table. “Regina told me to keep digging, she thinks he’s important, whatever he was working on before he disappeared might be what we need to take down the Resistance once and for all.”

She embraced him, pulling him against her chest. “I know if anyone can find him, you will.”

He looked up and smiled at her as she bent down to press her lips to his. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my Prince Charming.” She broke the contact, turning back to her dinner. “Oh, by the way, I have to go out tonight. I forgot to buy the ham for dinner tomorrow.”

“You should have told me; I could have picked it up for you. If you want, I can call the service, I know you don’t trust the LRU’s but they provide quick service.”

She snorted, “Never, why would anyone trust something called a Life Replacement Unit? Even the name blatantly calls out that they mean to replace us. It’s no bother for me to go to the store. It’s how they did it years ago, and besides I enjoy getting out of the house.”

“Well, I have some work to catch up on so I’ll try and get it done before you get back, maybe we can spend the evening watching the holo.”

She turned back toward him and smiled. “I would love that.”

~*~

James parked his Chevelle in the assigned spot at the back of the building, watching as the platform descended into the ground, sending the car to rest beneath the apartment.

He looked up at the building, noticing the way the fog had rolled in from the harbor and hugged the side of the building. He glanced ominously toward the horizon; the smoke looked darker than it had in days. No one was talking about what was happening outside the walls, in the depths of the waters that banked against the town.

“Hey.”

He jumped and turned toward a dark-haired woman. “It’s bad form to sneak up on a man, lass.”

“Sorry about that.” She giggled. “I was wondering if you could spare a lightstick?”

Killian shook his head. “I don’t use those. Bad for your health.” He shrugged and stepped away from the woman.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” She chased after him.

“Look, I already told you, I don’t do the stuff. Neither should you, lass.” Before he could enter the building the woman grabbed him by the arm. He turned toward her quickly as she glared at him. “Listen you siren, while I appreciate a beautiful woman such as yourself getting all handsy with me, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“I just want to talk.”

“I’m not in the mood for that either.” He growled. “So, if you don’t mind, I’ll be leaving now.”

With a quick move, she tightened her grip on his arm, pushing his sleeve further up his forearm, staring at the black ink on his arm. “How do you know Will Scarlet?” Every sensor in his brain went off at once.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded. “If you know that lunatic, I want nothing to do with you. He’s crazy as a loon and so are you.” He reached for the door to his building before he felt a pain in the back of his neck and the world around him faded to black.

He heard noises around him as the ache in his neck seemed to radiate through his body. He wasn’t sure how long he had been out, but he knew he wasn’t near his apartment anymore. He could hear the sound of seagulls off in the distance and the slosh of water all around him. He opened his eyes but could only see darkness and the fabric placed over his head clung to him. Whoever had taken him didn’t want him to see where he was going or how he got there.

He tried to sit up when his leg hit something hard next to him, sending a clatter of noise off to his right as something smashed to the ground.

“I think our guest has woken up.” Someone grumbled.

“We’re almost there.” He heard another voice.

“She wants to talk to him as soon as we arrive.” He heard the woman’s voice from the apartment.

“This is a stupid idea.” The first voice whispered. “Bringing him here is going to get us all killed.”

“We don’t even know if he’s on our side.”

“Stop talking.” The woman’s voice rang out again. “I’m going to go help dock the boat.”

James sat for what felt like a lifetime as he waited for the voices to come back, instead he listened to the strange sound of the engine, the whirl of a generator somewhere deep below him. He fell forward as the boat hit against something solid.

“Land ho.” A voice boomed to his left.

Arms suddenly were grabbing him, dragging him to his feet. “Who are you, just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone.” He begged.

“You ain’t in no danger ‘ere.” The man squawked. “Just don’t be no trouble.”

James tripped over the stairs and the woman’s voice shrilled behind him. “Would you idiots be careful; mother will be really angry if you injure our prize.”

“Sorry Ma’am.” The voice to his right said apologetically with a loud sneeze.

“Maybe if he learned to walk, sister, we wouldn’t have no trouble.” The voice to his left grumbled angrily.

Once he stepped down again, he could tell he was standing on planks that were connected to a dock. The sway of the ground meant he was over water still. “I’ll take him from here.” He felt the woman slide up beside him, grabbing him by the arm. “She just wants to talk to you, that’s all. If you aren’t interested in what she has to say, you can go back to your miserable existence afterwards.”

“Who’s this she?” He asked nervously.

“The Mother of the Resistance, of course.” She said with a laugh and James felt his blood run cold. He was in the foglands; he had been taken by the Resistance.

He heard a metal door squeal open on rusty hinges and he stepped onto solid ground, as soon as it slammed shut, the itchy fabric was pulled from his head, and he tried to adjust his eyes to the dark glowing lights around him.

“Welcome to the foglands.” The woman announced.

“I’m positively glowing with anticipation.” He said smugly and the woman snorted beside him.

“Oh, they said you were a sarcastic one. I wasn’t sure if you retained that in your new existence.”

“Retained what? New existence?” he asked in confusion. “What are you on about?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for all of that yet.” She grinned as they stepped into a large metal room, water swirling around at their feet.

“Do you intend to drown me, leave me for dead?” He asked incredulously, staring around him at the boxed in room.

“No one is leaving anyone for dead.” A loud voice boomed and echoed through the room. At the other end of the box, a woman stepped out of the shadows, the moonlight illuminating her face through a grate in the ceiling.

“And just who the hell are you?”

“Me?” She laughed. “I’m the Mother of the Resistance.” She paused, stepping closer to him. “But you can call me Mary Margaret.”

[wafflefries13]

The Consequences of Late Night Calls

Happy birthday to the world’s best blasty boy! 

This is the first fic I’ve written for tumblr, so let me know what you think!

Warnings: None, I think. Some cursing, some guy talks smack for a bit. 

Genre: Fluff

~~~~~~~~~~

The call shocked you out of a deep but impromptu sleep. You jerked up from the noise, a page of lecture notes sticking to your check. It fluttered back to the desk covered in its own mess of loose leaf documents, used textbooks that cost more than a weekend trip to Disney World, and a laptop missing three of its letter keys. 

You dragged your tongue against your teeth, trying to get rid of the cotton feel coating the inside of your mouth. Rubbing stars into your tired eyes, you wondered when exactly you had fallen asleep. Was it somewhere near memorizing the latin terminology for court rhetoric or around reading the case file and trial records you were going to be tested over on Monday? Deciding wondering was basically pointless, considering you had pretty  much forgotten all of it anyway, you pawed blindly around for your phone. 

“Hello?” You answered, eyes still closed, although it probably came out and more of a mumbled groan than anything else.  

“(Y/NNNNNNNNN)!” 

You pulled the phone away from your ear, wincing at the sudden loud noise. Blinking bleerally, you looked down at your phone. You had taken the caller ID picture a year ago, at a sorority Halloween party you barely remembered aside from the copious amounts of alcohol consumed followed by an ill-advised scavenger hunt that ended with a call to the police and the dean’s car somehow ending up in the agriculture department’s greenhouse crowded with Jack-O-lanterns. It was a profile shot of Bakugo Katsuki, his mouth opened in a mid-yell scowl, as was his standard expression, and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. One hand extended to try and block the camera, the other clutching a brown bottle. He was wearing a fantasy barbarian king costume, chest bare to show off the taut muscles he worked so hard for all of high school to get. When he’d shown up in it, or, rather, when Kirishima had dragged him along in his own dragonborn costume, you couldn’t believe he still had it. You remembered sitting in your basement in 9th grade, pricking your fingers with a sewing needle as you and the rest of your newly formed D&D group, Bakugo and Kirishima included, spent way too much time and effort into creating your costumes. 

Rubbing at the bridge of your nose in a vain attempt to chase away the headache you could already feel forming, you brought the phone back to your ear. You could hear the low thump of bass heavy music in the background. 

“Hi, Suki,” You said, trying not to sound condescending, but it came out like that anyway. 

“Hey!” He said sharply. The rest of his reply was slurred smooth. “I told you not to call me that.” 

You smirked. “It’s cute.” 

“It’s embarrassing! ‘M not cute.” 

“No, you’re calling me at-” You pulled the phone away again to check the time. “Katsuki, it’s like two in the morning, what the hell?” 

You heard someone shout something on the other side of the line that Katsuki mumbled a reply to. To you he said, “Was thinking about you.” 

You felt yourself blush despite yourself. “You were thinking about me?” 

There was a clunk and a bump. You could imagine him falling against a wall and sliding down to sit until the room stopped spinning. “Yeah. I don’t like it.” 

You ignored the jab in your heart. “Well, thanks.” 

“It keeps happening. I’ll just be, like, doing stuff, and then I just think, ‘What would (Y/N) think of that?’ ‘I wonder what (Y/N)’s doing right now.’ ‘(Y/N) would know what to do now. She’s so smart. And her hands look so soft. And her eyes are so pretty.’” He was quiet for a second. “It’s annoying. I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s worse when you’re here.” There was a shuffling as you heard him try to stand up then give up again. “Why aren’t you here? I want you here.” 

You were wide awake now. You clenched and unclenched your hand, trying to process the information your obviously drunk friend had just confessed. Your stomach churned in a mix of anticipation, anxiety, and straight up butterflies. 

What the hell did all of that mean? Well, of course you knew what it meant, or you knew what it meant when spoken by a sober person of sound mind and body. But there was no way, you tried to rationalize, that The Bakugo Katsuki, the guy you’d known since freshman year of high school when he’d punched a guy who had flipped up your uniform skirt on the first day, the guy who had surprised just about everyone in home economics when he busted out a three tiered cake like it was no one’s business, the guy whos ego was big enough to have its own gravitational pull, was confessing his feelings to you in a drunk rant at two in the morning. 

“Katsuki,” You said in a soft voice. “I-” 

There was a retching sound from the other end of the line. Katsuki coughed, tried to say something, then threw up again. “Aw, fuck.” 

That headache was back with avengence now. You sighed, looking for your keys. “Katsuki, where are you?” 

“Uhh, on campus? At the Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. There’s a party. Why aren’t you here?” 

“You know I hate all the Greek life bs. Stay where you are, okay? I’m coming to get you. You’re completely wasted.” 

“‘M not. I can handle what I drink.” There was another pause before he wretched again. 

“Did you just throw up again?” 

“...No.” 

“Cool. I’ll be there in ten.” 

You didn’t wait for him to respond before hanging it. You didn’t think your heart could take it if he kept going on like he had been. Grabbing your keys and heading out of your crowded studio apartment, you hopped in your car to go save your drunk friend from making any other ill advised decisions that night. 

You realized that you were probably over thinking the whole phone call as you drove through deserted streets. You couldn’t help it, it was a bad habit you had formed as a kid that now  made you obsess over court documents and testimonies in class. But now, instead of helping, it was picking you apart. What did Katsuki’s tone imply when he was talking to you just now? Could you trust the tone of an inebriated person? What did he mean when he said he thought about you a lot? You’d known each other for years now, being involved in almost all the same activities. Wouldn’t it be natural to think about someone you spent so much time with? But you’d known Kirishima for just as long, not to mention the rest of the self-named “Baku-Squad.” You’d never gotten a late night drunk call from any of them. Heck, Katsuki had known Izuku way longer than he had known you, and you were pretty dang sure Katsuki had never called him going on and on about how he always thought about him. 

Stopping at a red light, you pressed your forehead into the soft faux-leather of your steering wheel, willing your thoughts to calm down and just come to a rational conclusion already. Expect, you know, a rational conclusion that wasn’t that the guy you had carried a torch for for almost as long as you had known him might actually have feelings for you back. 

You turned on to the street lined with sororities and fraternities across from the main campus. You had to slam on your breaks almost immediately to avoid running over a tipsy, giggling co-ed who was stumbling out into the road. She didn’t even look up at you. 

You didn’t know exactly which house Katsuki was stranded at, considering you could see at least three different parties all going on at first glance. His “Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever” wasn’t very helpful, either, considering all the Greek letters adorning the houses blended together in your mind at some point. And you really didn’t want to tramp through a bunch of different houses tonight. 

Thankfully, you were saved the trouble when you saw Kirishima’s 1969 Chevrolet Chevelle park half off the curb in front of one of the houses. You’d know that car anywhere. Kirishima had dragged your group to various scrap yards and auto-repair stores all summer after he got his license, the first of you all to do so, in an effort to fix up the worn down Chevelle that he’d bought for a hundred bucks and a turkey sandwich. 

You parked on the other side of the street then jogged across to the house that was practically vibrating with heavy music and Greek life energy. Stepping over a semi-conscious frat boy laying in the doorway, you scanned around the house for any sign of Katsuki’s pomeranian-puff-ball hair. 

You spotted Denki lounging on a couch, a lampshade on his head and a tangle of phone chargers clutched in his fist. His hand sparked every now and then as he used his quirk to recharge the collection of phones. 

You lifted up the edge of the lampshade. “Hey there, Pikachu.” 

“Heeeeeey~” He said, giving you a thumbs up. You could already tell he was too far gone, although you didn’t know if it was from drinking or the over use of his quirk. 

“(Y/N)!” You heard a voice call behind you. A body fell heavily against your back. Sero wrapped his arms around you in a backwards hug. “Where you been? We missed you!” 

“Studying. I’m boring, remember? I’m looking for Katsuki, you seen him around?” 

Sero snickered. “Bakugo, huh? He’s been looking for you for a long time, right, Denki?” 

“Heeeeeey~” 

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sero snickered again, flopping on the couch next to Denki. “Can’t tell. Part of the bro code. And he said he’d kill me.” 

“That does sound like Katsuki.” 

Sero covered his eyes with his arm, head leaning back. With a wide smile, he waved his hand in the vague direction to the back door. “I think he’s out by the pool or something.” 

You waved bye. “Thanks, I’ll go check it out. You guys take care of yourselves, okay?” 

“Look at ‘em go,” Sero said to Denki as you left. “You think they’ll have a spring wedding?” 

“Heeeeeey~” 

*~~~~* 

You managed to weave your way through the crowd of bodies clogging the house to finally spill out into the back yard. You had no idea how people were able to stay this energized this late into the night with this many other people around. You remembered once being stuck at another party, early on in your college days. When it became super clear you didn’t want to be there, overwhelmed by the noise, the crush of bodies, and the suffocation of social enterprise, Katsuki had dragged Kirishima over to you, planting him in front of you as your ‘extrovert shield.’  He’d stayed with you behind the boisterous redhead for the rest of the night. 

You wondered if Katsuki remembered doing that, if he remembered any of the small nice gestures he did for you over the years. And now, with his call, with what Sero said, with your over analyzing brain, you were dissecting every interaction you could remember. Was the time he opened a door for you a signal? Was the reason he would ask to study with you for chemistry, when he was way better in practically every subject than you, just so he could be close to you? Were the times he had given you his jacket when you were cold meant to be a more intimate moment? 

God, you were going to go crazy. 

Walking around the pool, you finally spotted the hot-headed blond. He was sitting slouched over on the end of one of the reclining pool chairs, forearms braced on his knees.  You almost called out to him, stopping cold when you saw the girl behind him. She had draped herself over his back, chin rested in the crook of his neck, one had massaging his shoulder, the other conspicuously sneaking under the hem of his shirt to rub circles on his abs. 

You clenched and unclenched your hands, worry gnawing at you as a headache at the back of your skull. Had something changed between the time he had called you and now? Had there been nothing there to change at all? Had you been misreading this situation the whole time? 

Katsuki looked up, his permanently affixed scowl even deeper. The second his jewel-red eyes met yours, you felt your heart skip a beat. He jumped to his feet so fast the girl behind him fell back against the chair. He tried marching over to you, which was made only slightly less intimidating by the drunk sway to his step. 

You didn’t remember him being so tall. You’d just seen him this afternoon. There was a flushed blush across his face, adding a surprising softness. Were his arms always that strong looking? Were his eyes that piercing? Was his jaw that strong? 

“You came,” He said, voice rough as whiskey soaking into gravel. 

You spread your hands. “Well, you said my name three times, so, here I am!” You laughed nervously, trying to ignore how his gaze pinned you down. 

He took another step towards you, hand reading up. “(Y/N), I-” 

His cheeks turned from pink to green. Lurching to the side, he vomited into the pool. You tried to help him back up, hunched over and trying to catch his breath. The crowd of people around you groaned in disgust before rolling in to sarcastic applause. Katsuki flipped them off. 

“Alright, Suki,” You said, rubbing his back. “Let’s get you back home.” 

He grumbled, leaning his full weight against you. You almost stumbled and fell with the sudden shift of balance. Katsuki slid his arm around your waist, hand firmly grasping your hip, as if he was the one trying to prevent you from a drunken stumble. His fingers felt like fire through your clothes. 

You decided to go around the house instead of trying to push your way through it. Soon you were making your way across the street. It took some maneuvering to unlock and open the passenger door. You practically dropped Katsuki in where his head fell back with a groan. You grabbed his seat belt and stretched across him to fasten it. It wasn’t until he started petting your hair that your realized your position of half-way laying across his lap. You jerked back, some of your hair getting caught in his fingers. He made a disappointed sound at the loss of it. 

You slid back into the driver's seat, trembling hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. You had to take a few steadying breaths before you were ready to start the car. Pulling out of the neighborhood, you glanced over at Katsuki. His eye brows were furrowed, eyes closed, mouth pulled in a small frown. 

God, he looked adorable. 

You hit the break harder than you meant to at the light. Adorable? Where the hell did that thought come from? He’d probably be furious if he knew you ever thought that. 

But…

You risked another look at him. When he let his face relax like this, you could see the slight chub that still clung to his cheeks. Another thing he would hate to know that you thought was how much you loved the softness that it leant him. It was cute. 

Almost without your realizing it, you lifted your hand. You were overcome with the sudden urge to poke his cheek. A car horn blared behind you when your finger was less than an inch from his face. You let out an undignified squeak, hands slamming back to the wheel. Katsuki grumbled and turned in the seat, head resting against the window. You could feel the blush burning up your face. 

A few minutes later, you pulled back to the apartment complex. You both lived in the same building, Katsuki directly below your own unit. And now you were overthinking his reason for not living on campus. 

When you opened the passenger door, Katsuki almost fell out. You jerked forward to catch him then dragged him out. He half woke up, as feeble on his legs as a newborn horse. 

You lugged him through the lobby. He was muttering under his breath, but most of the words you could make out were curses. Not unusual for him. You pressed the button for the elevator repeatedly. It just blinked back at you. You sighed in frustration. They had been doing maintenance on your building all week, but now might have been the absolute worst time to do the elevator. 

You shook Katsuki’s shoulder a little bit. His head jostled like a bobble-head. “Suki, I’m gonna need your help here for a minute.” 

His head lolled forward, forehead coming down to press to yours. In a quiet voice, he whispered, “I’d do anything for you.” 

You shoved him upright, face burning. “Then walk up the damn stairs yourself!” 

Despite that, you still ended up half-carrying him up four flights of stairs. You were uncomfortably sweaty when you reached the door to Katsuki’s apartment. The two of you had traded copies of your apartment keys when you had moved in. “In case something happens to your dumb ass and I need to come save you,” He had said. He would frequently stop by, usually when you were hours deep into an all-nighter. He’d bring his laptop and work on whatever 12 page essay way due on your bed while you poured over case reports. You’d sit in silence, just together, sharing the same space, content with nothing more than knowing the other was nearby. Or he’d bring you real food to make sure you weren’t just eating ramen all the time. In turn, you’d pull him out for game night with the squad, make sure he’d actually call his mother once in a while, and lend an ear to his semi-nightly rants on whoever he decided to hate that night. 

You fumbled with the keys, jamming the key in the lock then pushing it open with your shoulder that wasn’t currently occupied by a half-asleep, full-drunk boy who had at least 50 pounds and ten inches on you. 

There was always an expectation with the rooms of single college boys. Greasy pizza boxes, empty bottles of booze displayed like expensive decor, at least one poster of a half-naked girl somewhere, probably a basket of clothes that should have been washed weeks ago. And while you knew plenty of guys who fit that description, Katsuki defied expectation. His apartment was always immaculate. His shoes were lined neatly by the door, a calendar above his desk  color-coded with assignment due dates, bed made. Katsuki may give off the persona of a punk, but you knew he was a straight-laced nerd through and through.  

With the last of your strength, you lugged him across the room, dropping him on his bed. With a groan, you stretched your arms up until you heard a satisfying pop in your back. Hands on your hips, you watched as Katsuki moaned, burying his face in his pillow and pulling his feet up from the floor. You sat on the end of the bed, tugging his feet to you to unlace his shoes. You let them fall haphazardly to the floor, too tired to care about his level of neatness.  

You grabbed a bucket from his hall closet, putting it next to the head of his bed for when he inevitably woke up vomiting in the morning. Checking his bathroom, you put a couple of painkillers and a glass of water on the nightstand with a post-it note saying “Drink Me.” 

Brushing your hands off, you looked around and checked your work. Satisfied that he wouldn’t kill himself between now and when you would inevitably check on him in the morning, you decided it was finally time to head back upstairs and get some well deserved sleep. 

But… 

You turned back at the door. Katsuki was splayed like a starfish, gently snoring with his mouth wide open. You also noticed his blushing red fluffy cheeks. 

You tapped the door knob a few times before sighing in surrender to temptation and turnin back. You knelt down next to the bed. For a moment, you just watched him sleep. He looked so peaceful now. You reached out. Your index finger sunk into his cheek like it was a marshmallow. You couldn’t believe you had never done this before. God, he really was adorable. 

Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Katsuki’s hand shot up and grabbed your wrist with an iron grip. With a shriek, you tried to scramble backwards. Katsuki lazily opened his eyes, not at all bothered by your struggles. With seemingly no effort on his part, he tugged you forward. Off balance, you fell into his chest. Katsuki wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug, slinging a leg over yours, trapping you on the bed. 

“Katsuki!” You hissed. You squirmed in his hold, not getting any extra room. He just hummed, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You were pretty sure your face was hot enough to start a fire. “Katsuki, let me go!” 

“No,” He mumbled. His voice rumbled against your skin sending shivers through your whole body. 

“Katsuki!” 

“You can’t leave. If you leave, you won’t come back.” 

You stopped struggling. “What are you talking about?” 

He squeezed you tighter. “I’m loud. I get angry real easy. I fight a lot. And you…” He trailed off, his breath catching and rattling in his chest. “You’re so much better than me. You’re nice and smart and talented and pretty and caring and… and…” You could feel the hot tears landing on your skin. He was starting to shake. His grip had loosened enough for you to get out, but instead you brought your arms up and pulled him in closer. “If I let you go, you’ll see how much better you are than me. And you’ll leave. You’ll leave me because you’re better and you deserve so much better. But I’m a selfish bastard and I just want you for myself because I love you so damn much.” 

Your heart dropped into your stomach. You wiggled your hand up, threading your hand into his hair and tilting his head to look up at you. 

“I love you too,” You said softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.” 

Katsuki crushed you to his chest, letting out another loud sob. You could feel hot tears pressing against your eyes. You had no idea Katsuki felt this way about anything; about you, about himself, about your relationship. 

But one thing you knew for sure: You loved Bakugo Katsuki. 

~~~

The first thing Katsuki noticed when he woke up was the head ache. His head felt like he had a railroad spike jammed through his temples. God, what did he do last night? There was the party at Kappa Alpha Betta Whatever house. It’d been fine for a while, hanging out with the guys, playing beer pong, winning some extra cash from freshman in poker (where did he put that money anyway?). And then…

And then someone had said your name. He’d heard it across the room, an amazing feat in and of itself, but his ears were trained for any news of you. He’d jerked up right when he heard it, missing his shot at the beer pong table. He gladly took his drink and went prowling through the house. Who had said your name? Were you here? Were you coming?  

It might have been selfish, he knew how much you hated loud crowds, but damn it, he wanted you here. He remembered the last Greek life party you had been at. He’d lost you at some point between getting into an argument with that damn Deku and pulling Denki down from a keg stand. He’d finally found you huddled into some back corner, looking like a rabbit about to dart from a hungry fox (he wouldn’t mind being that fox, honestly, he could eat you right up.) You’d lost the color in your face, hands shaking as you clutched your red Solo cup almost hard enough for your nails to pierce the plastic. 

He snatched Kirishima by his collar as he carved a path through the room. He planted the extroverted red-head in front of you, creating an extrovert shield between himself and the love of his life you. He’d spent the rest of the night talking to you. Nothing special, he couldn’t even really remember what about. But he did remember the relaxed slope of your shoulders, the spark in your eyes, the smile that played on your lips at whatever lame joke he had just made. 

Back in the present (or last night, whatever), he was still stalking through the halls looking for whoever had mentioned you. He heard it again, the tail end of your name, coming from the living room. 

“-(/N) never had it so good.” There he was, lounging along the bottom stairs with a smug look on his face as he regaled the small crowd he had attracted. Katsuki recognized him as one of those legacy kids, the one who showed up to the first day of orientation in a sleek black Bugatti and took up three parking spaces, talked in almost every one of his classes when he even bothered to show up, and was, without a doubt at every party on or off campus. 

And now he was telling a story about you. What were you ever doing with an asshole like him? 

“You would never guess it from how she dresses, you know,” The guy continued, lazily waving his half-empty beer bottle. “But she is stacked.” 

Katsuki tensed up, his heart jumping into his throat. He pushed aside the crowd until he stood right in front of the bragger on the stairs. “What did you just say?” He asked through clenched teeth. “You're talking about (Y/N) (L/N), right?” 

He lazily swept his gaze up, grinning wide when he saw Katsuki. “Yeah, (Y/N)? You know, she comes across as a frigid bitch, but let me tell you, she’s an incredible lay.” Katsuki’s vision went red. The crowd started to subtly shuffle away, feeling the cold change in atmosphere. “Not much besides that, honestly. Thank god her tits and ass are amazing, cause her face sure wasn’t doing it for me. Super boring, too, heard she’s failing her classes. Oh, well. Hey, I could use a side-piece when I’m running my own firm, you know?” 

The asshole never saw it coming. In the span of a heart beat, Katsuki had grabbed his designer jacket and hoisted him off the stairs, pinning him to the wall so his feet kicked to try and reach the ground. 

“You listen to me, asshole,” Katsuki hissed. “You never talk about (Y/N) again. You never look at her, you never talk to your shit-stain friends about her, you sure as fuck never tell another lie about her, or so help me, you’ll get to find out what color your liver is.” 

Katsuki was half-way sure the jerk had pissed his pants. He dropped him in a heap, landing in the puddle of spilled beer on the floor. He brushed his hand off on his jeans, eager to get whatever germs the gossip had off him.  

He was almost out of ear shot when he heard the rich kid spit and say, “Fine. She’s probably crawling with it if you’re dicking her down.” 

The kid’s head made a dent in the wall as he richoched back from the impact of Katsuki’s punch. He would easily have a black eye and a broken nose, the chipped tooth would just be a  bonus. 

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy with rage, stalked through the house, bee-lining it to the nearest source of inebriation. How dare he? How fucking dare that absolute ass-wipe ever even think of saying such horrible things about you? He wasn’t even worth knowing your name, much less saying it. Not to mention the fact he must be blind to think you were anything less than stunning. Ever since he had known you, you had been nothing but kind and smart and caring and funny and…

“Baku-bro, you doing okay?” 

Katsuki didn’t realize how tight he was holding his fists until he relaxed. His nails had made half-moon indents in his palms, his knuckles brushed red from the punch. 

Kirishima had his mouth pulled down in that stupid puppy dog pout. “I’m fine,” Katsuki brushed him off. He grabbed a beer out of an iced cooler, twisting off the cap in a single motion and chugging half the bottle. 

“Well, that’s good, cause I don’t think Tim Flood is making it out of here without a few stitches.” 

“Good.” Katsuki finished the beer and chucked it into a recycle bin. He grabbed another and stalked out of the room. Everything felt too hot, too tight. His head was pounding. If you were here, you’d get a bag of ice and press it against his forehead. You’d probably call him an idiot for getting into another fight, that he needed to learn how to manage his temper better. He’d call you a dumbass but let you lead him away somewhere dark and quiet, away from all the other more insufferable dumbasses. You’d find some pain killers, get him some water, because that’s just the kind of caring person you were. Maybe you’d bring him upstairs, lead him to an unoccupied bedroom. The two of you would sit together on the bed, maybe just a little too close. You’d hand him the water, his hand would brush against yours. You’d look down, shy, blushing cutely. He’d lean forward, thread his hand through your incredibly soft hair, angle your face up to him. Your plush lips would part slightly and he’d lean forward and - 

“Are you sure you’re good?” Kirishima asked, abruptly cutting off Katsuki’s impromptu fantasy. “Cause you don’t look so good.” Katsuki bit his tongue. “Is it because of what that guy said about (Y/N)?” Katsuki whipped around, glaring daggers. Kirishima smiled and put his hands up in mock surrender. “Hey, bro, it’s okay! No one believed him, anyway.” 

Katsuki scoffed, taking a swig of the beer. “(Y/N)’s too good for him anyway.” 

“I bet you think (Y/N)’s too good for everyone here, right?” 

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“It means you need to hurry up and tell (Y/N) you like her!” Sero shouted, jumping in out of nowhere. 

Katsuki dropped his bottle, Kirishima catching it just in time, and grabbed Sero by the front of his shirt and lifted him up. Sero just grinned his stupid, wide grin. 

“Come on, Katsuki,” Denki said, slinging an arm around Katsuki’s shoulders. “We all know you’ve had a thing for (Y/N) since high school. Why don’t you just put us all out of our misery and tell her already?!” 

Katsuki felt his face heat up. “I don’t- I haven’t - Fuck you!”  Katsuki couldn’t remember why he was friends with these three idiots as they all burst out into laughter.

 He snatched his bottle back and pushed through the crowd. He needed some air. He heard Sero yell after him, “You have to tell her eventually!” 

And… That was mostly it. Katsuki’s memories of last night sort of started to trail off after that. He knew that he drank, he drank a lot. At some point he ended up by the pool. And maybe he’d called someone? Oh, hell, he hoped he hadn’t called someone. 

His eyes snapped open at the soft groan. There you were, just inches away from his face, fast asleep and tucked in his arms. You were pressed close, breasts pushing against his chest, legs tangled with his, one hand clutching his shirt. Your lips were parted ever so slightly, breathing heavy and even. 

And you were so fucking close. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. His arms tightened around you and he tensed. How the hell did this happen? Did you actually come to the party last night? When, and why? What had called you down there-? 

Oh. Oh, the call! He had called you last night? Some time in his drunken haze he must have figured out to bypass the timed lock he had put on it specifically to avoid calling people with a too-honest tongue. But had you…?  Nervously, he looked down. He sighed in relief. You were both still dressed. At least that was one mistake he knew he hadn’t made. 

Alright, that was one problem. Now, on to the next one: How was he going to get out of here without waking you up? Craning his head around, he checked out the room. Wait, this was his room. He was in his apartment! A picture of last night started to form in his mind. He’d called you, blabbering God knows what, and then you’d been a good person (why were you such a good person?) and had come to get him, to make sure he was okay. And then what? He’d somehow seduced you into his bed? No, it was more likely you had stayed to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit, maybe sat on the bed because it was the middle of the night and you were exhausted, and then… This. 

Okay, okay, no, this was fine, he could fix this. He could slip out, let you keep sleeping. He’d make some breakfast in the kitchen and then you’d wake up, wander in rubbing the sleep from your eyes in that cute way you did when you pulled an all-nighter studying. He’d chastise you for lugging his drunk ass up here, for being out so late at night. You’d wave him off, compliment his cooking, tell him to take better care of himself, and then smile up at him with that blindingly beautiful smile and sparkling eyes. 

“Morning.” Katsuki yelped at your greeting. He stared, wide-eyed, down at you, as you look back up at him lazily with those sparkling eyes. “It’s kinda hard to breathe here.” He realized then just how tight he was holding you. He jerked backward, his shout of surprise cut off as he fell off the bed. He rubbed his sore hip, looking up when he heard your giggle. You were leaning over the bed, smiling shyly when he caught you staring. 

He gulped hard, feeling his face burning up. “Hi.” 

You tucked a loose threat of hair behind your ear. “Hi.” 

He should say something. He needed to say something. God, why wasn’t he saying something? 

“I-“ Katsuki stopped with an incomplete thought in his mouth. He suddenly felt uncomfortably hot, his stomach clenching and throat going dry. Your face dropped as you lunged forward, dragging a bucket in front of him (where did that even come from?). He surged forward, clenching the sides of the bucket in a white knuckled grip, and threw up. 

You slid off the bed and knelt next to him. You rubbed small circles in his back, whispering small comforts as he coughed up bile and alcohol and who knows what else. You reached over behind him and grabbed a glass of water from his nightstand. 

“Here,” You said. “Rinse and spit. Don’t swallow or gargle, it’ll just mess with your gag reflex.” Rubbing the spike of pain growing in his forehead, he did what you said. When he caught his breath, he accepted the pain killers you had and dry swallowed them. You really had prepared for everything, huh? 

Katsuki shoved the bucket away with his foot, leaning back against the bed. “Fuck…” 

You hummed in response and scooted to sit next to him. “So,” You said. 

“So,” He said back. 

“I don’t suppose you remember much from last night?” 

He clenched his jaw, mouth going dryer than it already was, if that was possible. He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced and strained, even to him. “Hey, we’re both still wearing pants, right?” You didn’t laugh back. 

“So that’s a no then?” The seriousness with which you said that made him pause. 

“I, uh, think I called you?” 

“MmHmm. You didn’t sound too great, so I came to pull you out.” 

“Huh. Thanks for that.” 

“Yup.” You paused for a second. “Do you remember… anything else you said?” 

Fuck. 

“Uhh, I owe you breakfast?” 

You looked away. “Is there anything you maybe told Sero that you wouldn’t want him to tell me?” 

Double fuck. 

“If this is about Halloween last year, Mina was the one who brought the Ouija board.” He smirked at you, waiting for you to laugh with him. Instead you didn’t even look up, staring a hole in the carpet with the intensity of your gaze. 

You let out a sigh through your nose, pushing off your knees to stand. “I’m gonna head out,” You said, rubbing the back of your head and still not looking at him. 

Katsuki jumped up, immediately regretting as his head began swimming. “(Y/N), wait-“ He cut himself off with another surge of nausea and lurched towards the bucket. 

“Katsuki,” You said, sounding frustrated. “Look, I…” You sighed, running a hand through your hair and turning back to him. “We’ve known each other for a long time now, right? And for all the time I’ve known you, you’ve been stubborn and pig-headed and aggressive and just, you know, you. But still, in all that time, despite everything, I still…” You pressed your lips, looking for the right words. “I’m happy when I’m around you, Katsuki. I feel at ease, I feel protected, I feel like I can be better at anything. And I’ve thought about this a lot, so much that it makes my head spin and my heart hurt, but through all the trouble I still think it’s worth it. Because at the end of the day it means I still get to be with you and sometimes I just feel like that’s enough, but now I…” Your lip was trembling, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. Katsuki wanted nothing more than to take a big step forward and wrap you in the biggest, tightest hug of your life. Finally, you sighed in defeat. “But if you can’t say it, if the One and Only Katsuki Bakugo can’t say it, then how the hell can I?” 

Your voice broke on the last word. Katsuki was so stunned and suddenly pinned with guilt that he couldn’t move when you spun on your heels and rushed out of his apartment. 

Oh, fuck. 

~~~

“Idiot,” You murmured to yourself as you fled up the apartment stairs, furiously wiping at your eyes to get rid of the oncoming tears. “Idiot, idiot, idiot.” By the time you reached your apartment and slammed the door behind you, you weren’t sure if you were talking about Katsuki or yourself. 

You felt sick. Anxiety gnawed at your mind like a starving coyote. Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki? Had you really just confessed your feelings to Katsuki like that? Would he ever speak to you again? Would things just become too awkward that you’d be edged out of your friend group? They had known Katsuki much longer than they had known you, after all. God, what if he was calling Kirishima right now and telling him about the disaster of a morning, after you had taken advantage of his blitz out state and slept in the same bed with him? 

Well, no. Kirishima was probably still knocked  out from his own night of heavy imbibing. Not to mention that even he, the most kind-hearted and patient person you knew, would have to draw a line at listening to Katsuki rant while dealing with a massive hangover. 

And no, Katsuki wouldn’t do that to you. Despite his rough deminor, his abrasive personality, and his profane tongue, Katsuki was actually a sweetheart deep down. Maybe really deep down, but still. He wouldn’t be so intentionally cruel, even if you told him that you shared all of his baby pictures of him playing in his All Might onesie online. 

So then why were you still huddled on a heap on the floor, back pressed against the front door, crying? Why was this pit of loneliness blooming in your chest?  

You yelped at the sudden banging on the door. Who could be here so early in the morning? You had paid rent this month, right? You sniffed, rubbing your eyes and smoothing out your clothes. You hoped your cheeks weren’t the blotchy red they got whenever you were upset. You took a deep breath to steady your voice for whoever was outside. 

Opening the door, you looked up at a wide-eyed Katsuki, panting hard with determination set on his face. You groaned internally. 

“Katsuki,” You began,” About what I said, I’m sorr-” 

Without waiting for you to finish, Katsuki surged forward. You tried to take a step backward, almost falling, but he caught you, a strong grip on your shoulders. Without waiting for you to get your bearings, Katsuki leaned in, smashing his lips against yours. 

It wasn’t a graceful kiss, all clashing teeth and urgency rather than romance. His eyes were screwed closed. He stayed pressed against you, not moving, grip so tight on your upper arms you thought there might be a mark later. 

Just as suddenly as he had come forward, he jerked back, but kept his hold on you. You both breathed heavily, eyes locked. Your mind whirled, a hundred voices shouting at the same time. For once, you decided to ignore them and let your body do what it wanted. 

You reached up, wrapping your arms around Katsuki’s neck and pulled him back in. This kiss was controlled, soft and sweet. His hands dropped from your shoulders to wrap around your waist. He pressed in harder, adding desperation in the kiss, as if he thought you would vanish any second. When you both pulled away this time, he leaned his forehead against yours, noses bumping into each other, sharing the same breath. 

His voice was rough. “Sorry,” He said. “I had to brush my teeth first.”

[fairytellerxo]

Spooky’s Boo

This was a request, anything Spooky from on my block. So, I had fun, this was a 15 minute writing sprint so it’s not completely finished. It’s just my thoughts without going back in and cleaning it all up but I think it’s perfect so far. I may go in and edit it and add to it later though. Thanks!

Cesar walked into his brother's house, taking note of how much cleaner it was than usual. Which meant one thing and one thing only: his older brother was courting a new girl. One he hoped was better than the last girl, the one who had set the front lawn on fire out of unhinged jealousy because Spooky had simply looked at another girl.

“Spooky!” He plopped down onto the sofa and rested his feet on the coffee table. “Spooky!”

“He’s in the shower,” a brunette walked into the living room and smiled. “You must be Cesar, I’m Aya.” She held her hand out, only for the younger man to roll his eyes.

“No sense in introductions you won’t last.” Cesar shook his head. “None of his last girlfriends have.”

Aya huffed as she tucked her hair behind her ears and crossed her arms. “Okay, at least your upfront with your feelings.” She turned around and walked into the bedroom and straight into the bathroom. “Cesar is here babe.”

Spooky stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. “He is huh? He gave you a hard time?”

“Said I wouldn’t last so he doesn’t need to know me,” she shrugged as she started to dry him off. “No big deal, he’ll see.”

“Yeah he will,” he smirked at her before he kissed her head. “You ain’t gotta dote on me.”

“I know but I like to,” she smiled. “You’ve been looking out for me for a while, it’s time to show you what it’s like to have a woman hold it down for you.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled. “Cheesy as fuck, go somewhere.” He pulled on his boxers and jeans before looking at her. “Ignore Cesar, I’ll talk to him about respect even if you ain’t my girl he gotta respect you, you’re family.”

Aya nodded. “I want nothing more to be cool with Cesar. I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon babe.”

Spooky pulled on his wife beater and nodded. “I know, shower and get ready. I’m gonna go check on mi hermano.” He moved out of the bathroom and thru his bedroom before into the living room. “Cesar.”

“Spooky,” Cesar sat up and looked at his brother. “I met your friend.”

“Mi hyna,” he shrugged. “Aya told me your reaction to her trying to introduce herself. Do you know who her dad is or her brothers.” He leaned in close to his brother. “Her pops is Hector, one of the OGs, her brothers, Ju and Ja. You respect her whether it’s for me or not.”

“I didn’t know,” he shook his head. “I’m sorry, I’ll apologize to her. Okay?”

“Okay,” Spooky dropped to the sofa and sighed. “I like her, that’s my lady. Don’t disrespect her again. She’s a sweetheart but she’ll be quick to pull a knife out on you if you act too crazy towards her. I’ve seen it.”

Cesar nodded slowly. “I get it, she’s your lady. It’s cool, I will remember it.”

“You better,” Aya smiled before sitting on Spooky’s lap. “So do you have a girl?”

“Nah, I don’t,” Cesar shook his head. “Messed it up with her, so I’m just doing me.”

Spooky chuckled. “He’s sprung on one loud mouthed girl. She’s independent and won’t take any of his shit. Hell end up winning her back, he just gotta think things through.” He pointed to his brother’s head. “We’re getting out of here though Cesar, stick around if you want. We’re going cruising. Aya’s got this sweet ass Chevelle, gotta ride through.”

“You should come with us, maybe you’ll have fun,” Aya stood up. “I’ll introduce you to some people. Best way to get over someone is to get under someone new.”

“Hey,” Spooky rose to his full height. “Last thing he needs is to knock one of the little hoes from the car show up. You can come but keep your dick in your pants, I ain’t being no damn uncle. I’m too young.”

Cesar stood up. “Don’t worry about it. I’m smarter than I get credited for.” He shrugged. “I’m down to go. Sounds like it’ll be fun.”

“Oh it is,” Aya smirked. “Come on boys, let’s go.”

.

.

.

“He’s drunk,” Spooky looked around Aya and at Cesar who was dancing and grinning from ear to ear. “Never usually dances.”

“He’s having fun,” she turned his head back to face her and kissed him softly. “Just like we’re having fun and we’re going to keep having fun.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Cesar needs this right now. Plus, that girl is as dangerous as a toothless chihuahua.”

“Hey Spooky,” A blonde walked up to the pair. “How’s it going?”

Aya took a deep breath and looked at the blonde. “He’s busy honey. Come back later.” She shook her head slowly. “It’s going well for him.”

Spooky looked at the blonde. “What she said.” He nodded. “It’s going really well for me, can’t say the same for you if you keep sticking around.”

The brunette tossed her hair over her shoulder and clicked her tongue. “The nerve.”

“I’m yours,” he whispered against her head. “I do like the way you get all possessive and jealous though.”

“Jealous of her?” She shook her head. “Never. Possessive? Always.” She slipped her hands under his shirt and smiled. “Need you. You need me?”

Spooky looked around and nodded slowly. “Yeah but I gotta keep eyes on Cesar.”

Aya smiled and turned around, leaning against Spooky. “Family first.”

“You get it,” he kissed her head. “That’s the only blood family I got, I will protect him till the death of me.” He squeezed her hips. “I am all he’s got.”

She nodded slowly turning back around to look up at him. She smiled as she pinched his cheek softly. “You don’t have to explain shit to me, I get it. Family is everything and you don’t get to think twice about saving blood.” She furrowed her brow. “I know it was hard for you when he was exiled but now you have him back, make the most of it. Make him see that he should aim for college or trade school. Don’t let him waste his potential like you wasted yours.”

Spooky nodded, his eyes on his brother who was now dancing with another girl. He smiled then his face tensed up. “I did it for him, just because I’m in the Saints doesn’t mean I’m not using my smarts or my potential. What about that girl, is she harmless?” He turned her around. “Or am I gonna be an uncle?”

Aya laughed and shook her head slowly. “She doesn’t look harmless but she is. She’ll break him in. That’s Issac’s sister.”

“Hey Spooky, hey Spooky’s Boo,” the guy nodded and waved. “Later!”

“Ha, Spooky’s Boo.” Spooky grinned from ear to ear. “I like it, Spooky’s Boo. Nothing else, I don’t want to hear anything else. Spooky’s Boo.”

[let-it-raines]

CSJJ Day 14: The Writing is on the Other Side of The Wall

Summary: Emma Swan’s favorite author is her next door neighbor, but just because she loves his writing doesn’t mean she loves him. She doesn’t even like him. In fact, one could say that she absolutely hates Killian Jones and the way he blares his music through their shared walls and how he’s always incessantly flirting with anything that breathes. 

He drives her insane, and she’s about one three am wake-up call away from breaking into his apartment and throwing his speaker out the window. Or maybe she is one three am wake-up call or one knock on her door away from her life beginning to change forever. 

Rating: Mature

A/N: Hey, I’m back again! I hope you all have been enjoying the first half of this event (and that you will enjoy the rest) and are reading all of the great works out there! Everyone involved in @csjanuaryjoy is just wonderful ♥️ I’d also like to thank the anon who sent me the prompt for this story. I’ve been waiting to share this with you!

Also found on ao3 | here |

Tag List: @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @teamhook @onceuponaprincessworld @wellhellotragic @bmbbcs4evr @ekr032-blog-blog @branlovestowrite @jennjenn615 @mayquita @captainsjedi @nikkiemms @dreadpirateemma

His hand falls to his side, grasping tightly to the wound and firmly applying pressure to try to get the bleeding to stop. He’s desperate, his entire body surging with pain, and he knows this is likely it for him if Kate doesn’t get here soon to help him. God, Kate. He loves her, and he needs her.

But she’s not here.

“Fuuuuck,” Emma groans, slamming the book closed before tossing it across the room, a dull thud echoing when it hits against her dresser. “How the hell do you just end a book like that? Seriously?”

She throws her head back against the bed, closing her eyes and grimacing thinking about how she just stayed up all night reading the newest addition to the Crashing Waves series. She’s pissed, feels as if her own heart has just been ripped out of her chest or like she’s been shot in the stomach like Connor. It’s dramatic, but she has to go to the office for a meeting in – she looks down at her phone – three hours on no sleep.

Damn you, Killian Jones.

Almost as if on cue, music starts blaring from the other side of her bedroom wall, muted sounds of Hozier playing through the sheetrock. If she was asleep, it’d wake her up, as it does almost every night. God, her neighbor is so annoying, and maybe she’s a little pissed because he’s the reason she never gets any sleep. Usually it’s because he plays music during all hours of the night (and day), whenever inspiration strikes him apparently, but tonight it’s because his new book came out yesterday and she absolutely couldn’t wait to read it.

It’s ridiculous, really. She’s a scraping by bail bondsperson who lives in a crappy apartment with thin walls (obviously) and a frankly disturbing pipe system for her water, and her neighbor is an accomplished author whose books are always on the best-seller’s list, usually the top. She read something the other day about them possibly being adapted into a television show or a movie, so he’s obviously doing well for himself. Hell, she just bought his book for twenty dollars.

But he still lives here.

It doesn’t make any sense.

It’s still the reality, though. Her neighbor is one of her favorite authors – and she has a hell of a lot of those – and she absolutely hates him when it comes to him being a human being that she personally knows.

Really, really hates him.

The music is one thing. Yes, she knows that she works weird hours, never really does have a regular sleeping schedule, but she’s not disturbing other people during sleeping hours…okay, so her skips don’t count. They’ve done something illegal and then skipped out on their court date, so they deserve to be disturbed during sleeping hours. But she’s still home a lot at night, often sleeping, and she’s woken up every time he starts playing music…which always means he’s writing. She only knows that because she’s read all of his books and watched a few interviews (on Good Morning America totally by accident she swears) and he’s said that he writes while blasting music.

She wants to blast him.

Does that even make any sense? Probably not, but she’s exhausted.

But it’s not just the music. He’s an asshole, and she’s not exaggerating. He’s impossible to talk to without him flirting with you in that deep British accent of his, and for awhile, she thought maybe he was just hitting on her. He’s not. He talks that way to everyone, and it gets under her skin in the worst way possible. She doesn’t know why, but it does.

Sometimes, though, while she’s talking to him at the mailboxes or asking him to quite nicely shut the fuck up, he’ll get this glazed over look in his eyes, looking above her forehead, and it’s like he’s no longer a participant in the conversation. She doesn’t know why he does that, but she’s not here for people ignoring her.

There’s been enough of that in her life.

Don’t even get her started on how he always gets the best parking spot. She’s never once been able to park near their building. She’s always parking blocks away while his Chevelle is nearly always resting in one of the spots just a few feet from the door.

The thing she hates most about him, though, is that he was once witness to this awful, blow-out break up she had with her ex. It was humiliating, her face red and tear-stained as she yelled at Neal and the girl he was cheating on her with to get the fuck out of herapartment, their pants basically still around their ankles. She was heartbroken, her body physically feeling like it couldn’t go on anymore, and when she looked up, there he was coming up the stairs with a few bags of groceries in his hands and a dumbfounded look on his face that’s forever scorched in her memory.

“Swan, bloody hell. What’s happening?”

“Nothing,” she sniffles, wiping at the tears at her eyes and taking in a shuddering breath, “Just…forget you ever saw anything. It’s not important.”

“Love, it – ”

“Don’t.” She holds her hand up before taking a step inside her apartment. “I’m not your love or anyone else’s apparently.”

That wasn’t…he didn’t do anything wrong there, but he was there and now she associates that moment with him. It was one of the many low points in her life, one she doesn’t like to remember along with the foster homes and all of the people who have left, but it often does in the middle of the night when her body’s fighting sleep…but then the music always starts.

“Jones,” she yells, reaching up and pounding so hard her fist hurts, “turn the music down. I’m sleeping.”

It’s a lie, but she doesn’t even care, especially when he never does end up turning the music down. Bastard.

She walks into Lucas Bonds at nine that morning, the largest travel mug she owns full of coffee and her eyes covered in dark sunglasses to keep herself from dying in the sunlight and bad florescent lights in the office. She’s exhausted, every limb in her body somehow dragging behind her, and if she doesn’t have a nap soon, she might very well pass out.

“Woah, why the hangover kit?” Ruby laughs the moment she plops down in her chair, the wheels turning as she slides back. “I didn’t know you were going out last night.”

“I didn’t.”

“Then why do you look like you’ve been run over with a truck?”

“Didn’t sleep. Like, at all. There was maybe an hour in there at the end.”

“Hot neighbor keeping you up again?”

“You could say that.”

“What?” Ruby practically flies out of her chair, leaning forward and clamoring over the desk to get in her face. “Did you finally get rid of all of that sexual tension and fuck him? Damn. Way to go Swan.”

“Ew,” she groans, sliding her glasses to the top of her head and taking another sip of her coffee, “I did not fuck him. I barely know him.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“It has when I have to see the guy again. Ruby, why are we here this early? Couldn’t she have done this later? Where’s Granny?”

“On the way. She’s running late.”

“Of course she is.”

Granny finally rolls in a quarter until ten, and it takes no more than thirty seconds for her to get down to business, going through their quarterly reports, trends, and tips for improvement. It’s ridiculous how detailed her boss is, but it works. It would just work better if they did it on another day. But she really does only have to blame herself, even if she is blaming Killian, and after Granny divides up cases for the next two weeks, Emma heads home and immediately falls asleep, hoping for no more music from next door.

Her weeks pass as normal, hours spent working tracking down skips far outnumbering the hours of music blaring through her bedroom wall. She knocks, Killian ignores it, and everything that she knows about her life stays the same.

Then the heater in her bug breaks in November, the chill of Boston biting while she drives around in the frigid air. She swears that it’s colder inside of her car than it is outside, and that makes for some long nights watching for her skips to pop up where her info says they are.

She figures this guy isn’t going to show, and she curses him to herself. His bail was larger than her normal guys, possession of a hell of a lot of drugs but not enough to be a drug dealer, and the pay from his fee would be enough to fix her heater so she doesn’t freeze to death in the winter. She’ll have to do more honey traps instead of stakeouts if she doesn’t get him, and she’s honestly not sure what’s worse.

Freezing to death in her car.

That’s worse.

But then Jeremy Lockhart steps out of the bar he’s apparently been frequenting, and she knows she has to make her move now before the future frostbite begins to consume her. As quietly as she can, she gets out of her car, making sure the door closes without so much as a click. She jogs up to him, her gun hitting her side under her shirt while she moves.

“Excuse me,” she calls out, putting on her sweetest voice, “excuse me sir.”

He turns around and a grin that makes her skin crawl moves across his face. “Yes, darling?”

She shudders, the pet name sounding disgusting on his lips, but he can’t know she thinks that. “I have a flat tire, and I was wondering if you could help me.”

His eyes study her, flicking up and down her body while his tongue pokes out and runs across his bottom lip. “For a woman as fine as you, of course.”

“Oh thank you so much. You’re just the biggest help.”

She leads him back to her car, walking just behind him so she can grab her handcuffs from her belt, and while she’s fumbling, she doesn’t notice Jeremy turning on her, his fist colliding with her cheek and sending her to the ground.

“You’re the bitch who’s been following me,” he spits, the saliva landing next to her stinging cheek. He kicks at her calf, and she cringes, attempting to think through her next move if he doesn’t walk away. “Maybe next time don’t drive such an obvious car. A fucking yellow bug, like you’re a daisy or something delicate when you’re obviously not.”

At that, he jogs away, gravel kicking against her all the while she cups her cheek, trying to assess the damage and make sure he didn’t knock out any teeth or break something. Fuck, this hurts. Like a lot. It hurts a hell of a lot, her face throbbing and stinging while she gets up and walks to her car, her kicked leg dragging the slightest bit. Bastard. He’s a bastard, and he doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. When she settles inside, she pops down her visors, checking the mirror to see that the left side of her face is red and beginning to swell. She’s sure a bruise will form, but honestly, despite all of the pain, all she can think about now is not having the money to fix her damn heater.

Happy winter to her. It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

It’s a long drive home, a wreck causing the usual late-night traffic to be backed up and at a standstill. Her face continues to throb while she sits there, rubbing her hands up and down her arms and listening to the music play from her radio. She can already see a bit of purple coming in, something that’s going to take a lot of makeup to cover up, especially since she knows she’s going to have to take the honey trap cases again.

Granny’s going to be so pissed at her for going after Lockhart alone.

She’s kind of pissed at herself. She should have known better, but what’s done is done.

After two hours, most of which was spent scrolling through Pinterest on her phone and draining her battery, she makes it back to her apartment around one in the morning, finding a spot a few blocks over and walking the rest of the way, trying not to get pissed at Jones’s car parallel parked right near the entrance. She hurts, her body stiff from the sitting and the hits, and it takes her longer than it should to climb the three flights of stairs.

She’s just made it to the top when the door next to hers opens and Killian walks out in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else. She gulps, her eyes moving over him. She can’t stand the dude, but as Ruby says, he’s hot. Him being shirtless, his lean muscles and black chest hair on full display, isn’t really helping her think otherwise, and if she didn’t think her body would fall out from under her for walking downstairs, she’d turn around and walk away so as to avoid all of…that.

It’s very distracting, especially with the way he’s got an anchor tattooed on his hip, dipping into his pants with his treasure trail of hair and a slight bulge. Yeah, she’s never going to be able to forget that, and all she wants is to forget this night.  

But she can’t avoid him, so she takes a deep breath before walking toward her door, trying as hard as she can to hide her limp and keep the left side of her face out of his view as he fiddles with his door knob. God, he’s so weird. What the hell is he doing? She inches closer, trying to keep her gaze away from the way his muscles dip into a v-shape and the damn tattoo, but then he turns around just as she’s passing his door.

“Hey, Swan? Late night ou – bloody hell, what happened to your face?”

She cringes, the movement making her face sting even more. “Quite the thing to say to a woman, Jones.”

His hand automatically goes up to scratch behind his ear, his lips ticking up on one side and the muscles of his arm twitching. “That’s not what I meant, love. You’ve,” he motions toward her, circling around her cheek, “you’ve got quite a bit of a bruise forming. Did someone…did someone hit you? Are you alright? Do I need to take you to the hospital? Or the police?”

“I’m fine,” she sighs, trying to school her features. “It was just a skip gone wrong. You don’t have to worry about it or me.”

“If you’re sure. But I’ve got…I’ve got a frozen steak in my freezer if you want it. To help with the swelling, not to eat. Though you can eat it if you want.”

She rolls her eyes. He’s being nice, not his usual cocky self, and she doesn’t want to be rude to him. Okay, so she does. She wants to complain about the music and the flirting and ask why he’s studying his door knob in the middle of the night, but she bites her tongue. The steak would be a hell of a lot better than the ice pack she was going to make in a Ziploc bag, so she nods her head.

“Alright then, you can follow me in while I get it or you can wait out here.”

He walks inside without checking to see if she’s following him, so naturally she follows him. His apartment has the exact same layout as hers, but his furniture is a hell of a lot nicer. It almost makes the place look nice and a little less crappy. He’s got a brown leather couch with a plaid throw draped over it, more throw pillows than anyone has a right to, as well as two matching arm chairs. Unsurprisingly, his walls are covered in bookshelves, the tall dark oak stretching from floor to ceiling absolutely covered in books, meticulously organized by size and color.

Wow. That’s…insane. But he is a writer, she guesses. He’s got to be really into books and a little eccentric. The random music and studying of a doorknob are proof enough of that.

“Here,” Killian offers, holding the steak out to her, “I hope this helps.”

“Thank you.” She takes it and presses against her cheek before beginning to walk back to the door. “I, um, maybe you could not play the music tonight so I can sleep. Or have you considered headphones?”

He smiles with his entire face, his teeth shining against his stubble, before winking at her. “You know how it is, love. It’s my method for writing. I can’t change things up or the next book will never get written. Have you read any of them?”

“No,” she lies, pressing the steak a little further into her cheek while his eyebrow raises in question. “I honestly have never considered it. Never really have time. My neighbor is an asshole who can’t be quiet.”

“Aye, but an asshole with a frozen steak that’s yours to keep.”

“How gentlemanly of you.”

He winks again, his smirk positively salacious while he hovers over her, the heat of his body consuming her for a moment until he takes a step back. “I’m always a gentleman.”

Miraculously, no music plays from the other side of the wall that night, and she manages to sleep through the night, only waking to stick the steak back in her freezer and make herself an ice pack. She’s really got to invest in some of the premade ones, but she’d preferably like to not get punched again. She wakes the next morning with a purple face and a slightly swollen eye, but it’s not as bad as she thought it would be.

She’s going to pretend it’s not from the steak keeping the swelling down.

Granny is indeed pissed that she went after Lockhart alone, and so is Ruby. They give her an absolute earful before telling her she can’t go out looking for skips and has to work in the office until her face heals. She protests, the need for a heated car and money calling her name, but Granny says no. And when her boss says no, she has to listen. She may be older and a grandmother, but she is absolutely terrifying when she needs to be. She’s the only motherly influence Emma has as well as being her employer, so Emma begrudgingly listens.

Loyalty and a paycheck and all that.

She’s sitting on her couch, a bowl of popcorn with melted milk duds next to her, while she does some research for Ruby, trying to track down skips and working up fake Tinder profiles to be used in the future. It’s just as she’s drafted a profile for Jacqueline Carmichael, a spicy (she can’t believe these are the types of words that work on men) brunette who just loves to have fun, that there’s a knock on her door. She closes her laptop, putting it on the coffee table and wiping her hands on her jeans before walking over and stretching up on her socked toes to look through the peep hole.

It’s Killian. He’s standing outside of her door and rocking back and forth on his heels with his hands behind his back.

She sighs before she unlocks her door, turning the bolts and undoing the chain before the wood swings open.

“Hi, Jones.”

“Hello, love.”

She waits for him to say something else, to give his reason for knocking, but he doesn’t. instead he smiles at her, gaze never leaving hers. He looks almost…giddy. What is – what is happening?

She leans against her doorframe and crosses her arms. “Did you need something?”

“Have you ever considered having a ride-a-long with you when you’re tailing skips?”

Oh hell no. That is not happening.

“Nope. And I’m not going to consider it now if that’s what you’re asking. I like to work alone.”

“What if I pay you?”

That gets her attention. She could use the money. Like, she could really use the money, and while it would totally mess with her method, it wouldn’t be that bad would it? Would he talk too much? Would he try to tell her she was doing her job wrong? Is it worth the money?

Money is a girl’s best friend.

“Why?”

“I’m looking for some inspiration and practical experience for my new book.”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

“I, um,” he mumbles, scratching at his chin, “what would you like?”

She hesitates, unsure of what to ask for. “Is this going to be a one-time thing or multiple rides?”

“Multiple, probably.”

She thinks about it for a moment, weighing what’s appropriate and knowing how much he has to make. “Can you swing two hundred per ride?”

He grins, nodding his head. “I can do that.”

“Perfect,” she smiles, reaching out and shaking his hand, ignoring the warmth of his palm and the strength of his grip. “I’m not going out again until next Monday, if I have something. You good to go out late at night?”

“Ready to go whenever you are, Swan.”

She’s pretty sure she just made a deal with the devil, but money is money. It better be worth it.

“So what exactly are we doing?”

Killian’s fidgeting around her desk at the office, going through her pens and papers and swirling her coffee mug all while she looks through their database to see if they have anybody they’ve paid bail for miss their court dates. They’ve got two, both men, and she knows that they’ll be easy to bring in.

“I’m looking for work.”

“It doesn’t just come to you?”

She rolls her eyes before rolling her chair back and propping her feet up on her desk. “For a writer, you sure as hell don’t do any research.”

“This, darling,” he points to her and grins, “is my research.”

“Okay,” she sighs, piling her hair up into a bun on her head so it’ll stop falling in her eyes, “so most of our work is done in the office. If someone can’t pay for their bail, which happens a lot for people who commit small-time crimes, we pay it for them for a fee, usually a percentage of their bail. That’s how we make our money.”

“So when do you chase people down?”

“Only about fifteen percent of the time do we have to do that. Most people show up to their court date, we get our money back plus the fee, and we’re good to go. But when they don’t, Granny has Ruby and me, as well as Will who mostly works out of office and does long distance stuff, more bounty hunter-ish, track them down and bring them back to court so we can get our money.”

“And that’s what you were doing when you got beat up a few weeks ago?”

“I didn’t get beat up but yes.”

“Huh,” he sighs, leaning back and stretching his hands above his head, his sweater lifting a bit to reveal some hair on his stomach and the tip of his tattoo, “interesting. So you really do mostly sit in the office or at home?”

“Yep. It’s not as exciting as people think. It’s a lot of sitting on your ass.”

“But do you like it?”

She shrugs. “It pays the bills. And I do like the adventure sometimes. Don’t like the getting punched or late nights. Aren’t you supposed to be writing this down?”

He taps his head. “I’ve got it all up here. But I’m also recording it on my phone.” Almost as an afterthought, he adds, “I hope that’s okay.” “As long as you’re not doing anything creepy with it, that’s fine. I’ll kick your ass if you do.” She rises from her chair, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “You want to go for that ride?”

“Absolutely.”

“So now we’re sitting around on our asses but in a car.”

“You’re a regular Sherlock Holmes.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, reaching into her cup holder and grabbing the coffee they stopped for before making their way downtown to wait outside Josh Plunkett’s apartment building. “Can I ask one more question?”

“That’s what you’re paying for.” “Why is it so bloody cold in here?”

“Heater’s broken.”

“And you don’t want to fix it?”

She rolls her eyes, having to hold back every sarcastic and biting remark that’s running through her mind. Yeah, this is definitely going to be more difficult than she thought it would be, which isn’t saying much. “I was going to use the money I got from the guy who gave me a black eye to fix it, but we never caught him and lost all of our money for him. So no heater.”

Killian doesn’t say anything else, just hums in response, and that’s pretty much how it goes for the next four hours. Sometimes he asks questions, most of them about her job, but that’s it. He’s still the same flirtatious guy that he always is, but it’s not nearly as obnoxious. Maybe it’s because she’s not tired and he’s not blaring his music through her wall. Instead he’s quietly listening to music through her radio, keeping his hands away from the knobs and letting her pick.

Good.

Plunkett never leaves his building, and since she can’t technically go inside, she gives up for the day, driving them back to their apartment and parting ways after Killian gives her the money he owes.

Over the course of December, Killian Jones becomes a constant at her side. He’s annoying and a little insufferable, but he’s also helping to make her two hundred dollars richer much faster than she usually would. Plus, not that she’d ever tell him, she’s kind of geeking out about the fact that her job could inspire a part of the next Crashing Waves book. When things get quiet, sometimes she almost asks him about what’s going to happen next, if he can tell her if Connor is going to be okay, but then she’d have to tell him she’s obsessed with his books.

And that’s just not going to happen.

He’s warming up to her though.

Maybe that’s just the coffee he brings her before every ride-a-long. He only had to ask once to know how she takes it, and he’s gotten it right every time since. If anything, that wins him the tiniest of points. The fact that he’s kind of funny and makes up commentary for the people they see walk by who aren’t her skips gives him some more of these fictitious points if only for keeping her entertained for hours on end.

Her phone buzzes on her bedside table, and she rolls over to pick it up, an unknown number popping up on the screen.

Unknown: So I’m thinking I’m the Castle to your Beckett.

Emma Swan: Jones?

Unknown: Killian Jones. Richard Castle. Same thing, milady. We’re both suave, dashingly handsome writers with beautiful law enforcement partners.

God, he’s so dumb. She wonders how long he took to piece together the idea that he’s anything like Castle. Hell, that’s probably where he got the idea for this whole thing. She snickers under her breath before burrowing under her blankets and looking back at her phone.

Emma Swan: How the hell did you get my number?

Killian Jones: Watched you type your phone password in, swiped it when you went to the bathroom last week, and then texted myself before deleting the message off your phone.

Emma Swan: Creepy, dude. You could have just asked.

Killian Jones: Yeah, well, it’s too late now because I have your digits, love.

Who the hell says digits? Killian can be old fashioned but not old fashioned enough to say digits. Yeah, he’s a curious case this Killian Jones.

Killian Jones: I’m about to write some. Will it disturb you if I play my music?

Emma Swan: Always.

Killian Jones: Well, I do so fancy you when you’re yelling at me. And when you’re not.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes before twisting in her bed. Sure enough, his music starts blaring through her bedroom wall. She doesn’t bother texting back, knowing he’s likely getting in the writing zone and dead to the world, but she does bang on her bedroom wall, not expecting a response as always.

But to her surprise, he knocks back twice…and then cranks the music up.

A laugh escapes her before she can stop it, and she yells out, “Asshole.”

“So what exactly is she doing with us today?” Killian asks her before looking back at Ruby in the backseat.

They’re in Killian’s Chevelle today while her bug is in the shop getting fixed – as funded by Killian Jones and his new obsession with bail bonds – and Ruby had demanded to ride along on their ride-a-long as well as actually being here for work. This car is a million times nicer than her car, than their apartments honestly, and she’s for some reason relieved that he’s made some concession to his wealth, even if she used to be annoyed every time she saw his car. Plus, it’s got these adapted heated seats that are to die for.

Seriously.

Her ass has never been this warm.

“Same could go to you, buddy,” Ruby challenges, poking her head up between the two of them while Killian drives them to the bar where her date is waiting. “This is my job, too.”

“I know that, but Emma’s showing me a honey trap date tonight. I wasn’t aware that took two people.”

“It’s for if he tries to run away,” she explains to Killian, patting him on the arm and telling him to take a left at the next turn. “And Ruby’s also sadistic and likes to watch the poor guys go from thinking they’re on a date to being taken down to a station and put behind bars.”

“Damn right.”

“You’re quite the character, love.”

“Yeah? You gonna write me into your book? I think I’d probably read them for that.”

Killian chuckles and looks over at her, raising his eyebrows. She shrugs and shakes her head in response. She doesn’t have any answers for Ruby either but man does she love her friend.

“Maybe,” Killian acquiesces, winking at her so Ruby can’t see, and her stomach does some kind of weird flip. “I’m still working out all of the kinks in my plotting process, but I like where things are going. The development is coming along quite nicely. The pub just up here, darling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she answers, pointing toward an open parking spot, “park there so we can get to the car quickly if we need to.”

Ruby’s gone ahead and walked into the bar, the three of them not daring walk in together, and she and Killian stand outside the entrance. It’s absolutely freezing, and her dress barely covers her previously warm ass. God, she hates this sometimes. She’s adjusting her dress, pulling it down her thighs and propping her boobs up all while Killian very obviously looks the other way.

“Alright,” she claps, trying to get his attention back to her, “how do I look?”

Killian finally looks her up and down, his blue eyes tracing her body in a way that doesn’t make her entirely uncomfortable. Then again, she did ask him how she looked. She gave him permission to check her out. His tongue pokes out, running against his bottom lip, and she chooses to ignore the tingling sensation at the base of her spine and the way her legs unexpectedly feel unsteady. It’s the heels. It’s got to be the heels.

“Beautiful,” he compliments, and heat rises to her cheeks. Suddenly his thumb is touching the corner of her lips, their bodies entirely too close so that she can feel the heat radiating off of him compared to the chill of the air. Holy shit. What is happening? “You’ve got a bit of stray lipstick.”

He abruptly pulls back, but he doesn’t step further away from her until he places his thumb in her eyeline. Sure enough, there’s a bit of her red lipstick on his finger.

Oh.

That makes…he was being helpful, but none of that changes the way her mind is suddenly cloudy and every part of her is reeling from their proximity and the way her body is responding to him. It’s not – she’s not felt that way before, not with him, with Killian. He’s her obnoxious neighbor, the incessant flirt. He’s not someone who should make heat flutter between her thighs at the touch of his thumb to her lips.

She doesn’t do relationships, not anymore, and she can’t afford for any part of her to want Killian Jones.

“Thank you.” She smiles before shaking herself out of it, getting herself back into the mood to work. That’s why they’re here after all, not for her to want to sleep with Killian. “So I’m going to go inside, find Jason, and in three minutes you can come in and sit at the bar or wherever gives you a good enough view for your notes, okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

At that she leaves him as well as trying to leave behind all of these weird as hell feelings she’s suddenly having after whatever that was. Jason’s sitting at a table in the middle of the room, the other tables around him only mildly crowded. Perfect. That’s always better than back corners.

“Jason?” she questions, her voice higher pitched than usual, legs still the slightest bit unsteady. “You’re Jason, right?”

“I am,” he smiles, his eyes looking up and down her body in the same way as Killian’s did…but somehow more salacious. She really hates doing this sometimes. Has she already thought that? Probably. She can’t think it enough. These guys are all scumbags. “You’re Laura, right?”

“Yes, so nice to meet you.”

She settles down into the chair across for him, finding Ruby up at the bar just for safety purposes. Jason seems nice enough, but he also missed his trail for refusing to pay child support. So he’s an asshole, just not a dangerous asshole. Hopefully.

“So what do you do, Jason? I know that’s super boring first date conversation, but a girl just has to ask.”

“I’m a lawyer.”

He’s a liar.

“Oh really?” she flirts, leaning forward to twirl her drink around and prop her boobs up, the flesh practically spilling out of the material. “That’s so fascinating. What’s your specialty?”

“Oh, um, law suits.”

And not an inventive liar at that.

“So it’s not skipping out on providing over twenty thousand dollars for your children who you abandoned?”

Yeah, so maybe that last little part was for her. She enjoys taking guys like this down if nothing more than personal satisfaction for how her parents abandoned her. And, you know, to make sure those kids at least have the financial support to have a better life than her, asshole dad aside.

The smile on Jason’s face changes almost as quickly as the one on hers does before he’s throwing his wine all over her dress and running toward the door. Yeah, this is exactly why Ruby’s here.

“Dammit,” she mutters, knowing the dress is unsalvageable before getting up and heading toward Jason only for Killian to literally come out of nowhere and punch him in the face, causing Killian to curse and Jason to tumble backward into her waiting arms. “Or maybe not.”

She grabs Jason’s wrists, handcuffing him, and out of the corner of her eye she sees Ruby on the phone, likely with the guys down at the station to come pick him up since they’re near the precinct, as well as sliding extra cash over to the bartender for the disturbance they caused.

“What do you even know about family, bitch?” Jason mutters to her while they’re waiting outside, and the sting hurts as much as if she’d been the one to be slapped tonight.

“Not a thing and yet somehow more than you.”

Jason scoffs, and she sees Killian staring at her, his gaze so intense he could drill a hole on her head. She’s never told him anything about her time in foster homes, not more than possibly casually letting it slip, and she hopes that it’s not pity in his eyes. She can’t handle it if it is, so she makes sure to look away, training her gaze on the flickering neon light of the tattoo parlor across the street.

It’s another hour before Jason is loaded into the back of a cop car and her paperwork is all filled out so they can get their money back. Killian drives them back to Ruby’s apartment, dropping her off, before he drives them home, getting the best parking spot right next to the side entrance.

Bastard.

She never gets that spot. How the hell does he do that?

They’re silent as they walk up the stairs, her heels long gone and replaced with the slippers she brought with her, and by the time they’re standing in front of her apartment door, she’s exhausted, not wanting to think about anything.

“Thanks for tonight, Swan.”

“I should be thanking you. You’ve got a mean left hook.” She reaches down to grab his hand, running her fingers over the bruised knuckles. He hisses in response, his face contorted in pain. “You need to ice this.”

“Aye, but it seems I’ve given away my best icing steak.”

“Lucky for you I’ve got one.” She unlocks her door, having to kick it open with the rusty hinge, before stepping inside. “Come on.”

Killian follows her inside and to her freezer. She’s since invested in those nice ice packs, but after some rummaging, she finds Killian’s steak. It’s got to be freezer burned at this point, but it’ll work for her purposes. She smiles as she turns around, closing the door behind her, and holds the steak in the air.

“And I present to you, your best icing steak.”

“Bloody hell,” he laughs, his hair falling over his forehead, “I didn’t think you were serious. You didn’t cook this?”

“Nah, wasn’t ever in the mood. And it’s coming in handy now. Pun intended.”

“A regular comedian, love.”

“I know.” She hands it over to him before turning around and opening the door to ruffle around her freezer some more, finding a frozen pizza that should be edible. “You want something to eat? Pizza?”

“That sounds good.”

She pops the pizza in the oven, setting a timer on her phone, before she and Killian settle down onto her couch. It’s two in the morning at this point, most of the world asleep, and that makes it so much harder to find something on her cable package that’s not cartoons or infomercials. Eventually she gives up, leaving it on TCM, and falls back into the couch, the wine stain on her dress obvious.

“You a fan of old movies, love?”

“Sometimes. I think a lot of them are sexist as hell, but they’re kind of nice to watch on, like, a rainy day with all of the lights turned off and a cup of hot chocolate.”

“That sounds nice, Swan.”

Silence settles between them and while she’d usually let it, she feels far too uncomfortable about all of the events of tonight, so she changes the subject, trying to lessen whatever charge she feels in the room and fill the remaining space with conversation.

“Was that your first time ever punching someone?”

“Second,” he smiles, twisting his head to look at her, their noses barely an inch apart. She can feel the heat of his breath when he speaks. “Really? What was the first?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I really, really do.”

His lips fall into a straight line, and his hand finds its way to his ear, scratching at his scruff. “I, um, well my brother had just died, and I was drunk off my ass trying to cope. Got angry at a guy in a pub and his face kind of collided with my fist.”

Oh. Oh shit. That’s not what she was expecting. How the hell does she respond to that? How does anyone respond to that? How did he respond to losing his brother? Besides the punching because she just can’t…she can’t imagine loving someone and then losing them through death. Not at all. That would be heartbreaking.

She reaches over and takes his unharmed hand, squeezing and letting her fingers linger there. “I’m sorry, Killian.”

“About the punch?”

“About your brother. I didn’t…I didn’t know.”

“How could you? I don’t talk about it, and we aren’t exactly the best of friends.”

That stings. She didn’t…she wouldn’t have considered them friends three months ago, but she does now. He’s grown on her. Granted, it’s kind of been like a fungus, but he’s grown on her after spending so much time together. There’s only so much you can avoid while sitting in a cramped car. He’s playing down his feelings, his eyes glancing toward her before looking away. She’s learned to read him, and that’s definitely what’s happening. They’re not nothing. They definitely have something going on.

Is he…is he scared that she doesn’t think they’re friends or acquaintances or whatever they are? She doesn’t have a lot of friends, but she thinks that’s what this is.

“Hey now, we are friends, Killian Jones,” she assures him, leaning her head a bit closer to his and squeezing his hand again. His eyebrow quirks, something she’s learned is one of his ticks along with the stupid ear scratching he just did. “What? We are. We hang out. We talk.”

“I pay you for all of that.”

“That makes me sound like a prostitute.”

He shakes his head from side to side, smiling while his eyelashes hit against his cheeks. Is he…blushing? “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, I know.” She brings her bottom lip between her teeth, debating on whether she wants to say her thoughts of not. “But I bet we’d somehow get along even if you weren’t paying me.”

“We didn’t exactly get along before.”

“Yeah, well, you were a cocky asshole who played his music at all hours of the day and night. Now you’re a semi-friendly asshole who plays his music at all hours of the day and night.”

“Such a distinction.”

She laughs at his playful eye roll before releasing his hand and clapping her hand on his thigh, pushing herself off the couch and taking the frozen steak with her. “You want a drink?” He nods his head in acceptance. “Rum?”

She walks over to the kitchen, puts up the steak, checks on the pizza, and grabs two glasses from her cabinets and a bottle of rum that’s almost completely full. She doesn’t remember why she bought it. She’s not that much of a rum drinker, more of a whiskey and beer girl herself, but that doesn’t really matter now as she pours she and Killian a sizeable glass, the liquid burning as it travels down her throat.

It feels good relaxing after constantly working, and she slumps down on the couch next to Killian again, her dress riding up her thighs, before handing him his drink. She and Killian continue to talk, television shows and weird stories that seem to roll together without any awkward pauses now as they both continue to drink and eat the pizza. After awhile, a fire starts burning in her belly, her body warming and her senses dulling the slightest bit.

When she looks over to Killian his cheeks are flushed red and there’s the slightest bit of sweat framing his forehead, his hair pushed back from where he’s been running his fingers through it while he’s been rambling on and on about his first book tour and how he’d accidentally spilled his coffee on a young fan’s book and had to give her a new one only for her to request to keep the ruined one because it was coffee he was drinking.

“That’s fucking weird,” she snorts, rum practically coming out of her nose. “Who would want a ruined book like that just because you’d had some of the coffee on it?”

“This lass apparently,” he laughs, leaning forward and putting his hand on her knee, the heat of his palm seeping through her skin.

Everything is so warm, his hand, her skin, the room. She’s not drunk, but she’s definitely buzzed. And the buzzing is making Killian’s lips and the way he keeps running his tongue over them especially attractive, the pink a nice contrast to his black scruff. He probably tastes like rum, and she wants to taste it on his lips instead of in the glass.

So she does.

She grabs his shirt collar, pulling him forward and crashing her lips into his while her nose squishes against his face. He whines, the sound shooting straight to her core, before his hands harshly grip into her hair and his lips move against hers. He’s rough with her, the softness of his lips completely cancelled out by the harshness of his whiskers, and when she bites down on his bottom lip, hard, he emits a groan that comes from the very back of his throat before his tongue thrusts into her mouth with no preamble. It’s a hot, wet slide, the sensations shaking her and curling her toes.

When she pulls back, she takes a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart and mind, but then his lips are moving along her jaw and down her neck, landing at her collarbone and sucking a mark in her skin that’s going to stay longer than the wine stain on her dress.

Her dress that is far too constricting right now.

She moans when his hands start moving…everywhere, up and down her back until they’re on her thighs, under her dress and pulling it up until it gets stuck at her ass. She’s not at all responsible for what happens next and the way that her dress comes up her body to rest around her waist or the way Killian’s pants come undone and a condom from his wallet goes on while her underwear is slid to the side. And she’s definitely not at fault when she straddles Killian’s lap and rides him into oblivion. It’s rough and rushed and the basic definition of a quick fuck, but she doesn’t care. He’s filling her completely while his hands dig into her ass and his lips leave their mark against her skin.

“So bloody tight, Swan,” he grunts into her ear before slapping her ass. She has to hold onto the back of the couch with such force, her breasts pressed against Killian’s chest while she moves above him. “Feels so good fucking you, being inside of you.”

“Shut up.” She moves her lips to his to get him to be quiet, their groans mixing together until there’s not another sound in the room and her eyes begin to have black spots behind them, the humming of her body at a high while Killian pulses inside of her. She comes on a shuddering breath, the unexpected quickness making it all the more intense, and she’s so gone that she doesn’t feel anything but her trembling legs.

Afterward she rests on top of him still, catching her breath, and before he can even pull out of her, she realizes her mistake.

“That was…”

“A one-time thing.” She moves so that he slips out of her before pulling her dress down to cover her. “You can go home now. There’s a trashcan by the front door.”

She doesn’t look at his face, shame rushing over her, but in the brief moment before she looked away, she saw the flash of disappointment in his eyes before there was a clench in his jaw. She hears his pants being zipped and his breathing settle before he grumbles under his breath.

“As you wish.”

That night she falls asleep in her wine-stained sex-mused dress without removing her makeup or brushing her hair. Except she never really falls asleep. She stays awake and lets her mind run through…everything. She can’t believe she slept with Killian. How could she be so stupid? Why did she even want to sleep with him?

She fucked up, and she has no idea how to fix it. She has no idea if she even wants to fix it. This isn’t what she does. She doesn’t sleep with people she has to see the next day, and she sure as hell doesn’t sleep with anyone who she knows as much as she knows Killian, who she may have some kind of feelings for. They all just leave anyways, and he may be just next door, but he won’t always be. He can’t be. He can afford a nicer place, one across the city with a doorman and an elevator. He’s not going to stay. This is all temporary, just like him spending time with her most days in their ride-a-longs. It’s not going to last.

It’s too much. It’s all too much, and if she could go back in time two hours, she thinks she would.

While suffering through her misery, the hangover already starting to set in, she expects music to blare through the wall, some kind of anger writing coming from Killian.

But the music never comes.

And it doesn’t come the next day.

Or the next.

She doesn’t hear any music blaring from Killian’s apartment for days on end. In fact, if she counts correctly, she doesn’t hear any music from Killian’s apartment for twenty two days, and despite having the opportunity to sleep peacefully for the first time in years, she can’t.

She picks up his books a couple of times, thinking about rereading them, but instead she puts the latest one away in her bedside drawer, slamming it shut and electing not to look at anything that reminds her of Killian.

She does her stakeouts and honey traps and research alone. It’s something she did alone for half a decade, but she hasn’t worked alone in months, not since late-November. But it’s March now, almost April really, the weather blustering outside and the snow beginning to melt into rain, and she’s all alone.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Ruby asks her one day, tossing her burger wrapper in her direction. It lands on her stomach, and she simply brushes it off into the trash can next to her desk and continues eating while filing her paperwork online. “Are you just not going to talk now?”

“Nope.”

“Someone peed in your Cheerios. Tell me so I can go kick their ass and get you out of this funk.”

“No one peed in my Cheerios. Just busy doing work and eating. Not a lot of time for talking.”

It’s the truth, but it’s also a lie. She could talk, but she just doesn’t want to. She’s not in the mood. She wants to do her work, eat her food, and go home to the silence.

“Emma, seriously,” Ruby coaxes, her voice suddenly soft, “are you okay?”

She plasters a smile on her face before looking up at Ruby over the top of the computer. “I’m fine. You want to go out tonight?”

“To work or to drink?”

“Drink.”

They go to the bar around the corner from her apartment, walking into the dull wood-paneled room with its dim lights and smell of cigarettes and alcohol. It’s the perfect place to drink and not be bothered, which along with it being in walking distance from her apartment, makes it somewhere she frequents. But of course tonight being a night she wants to be left alone, to drink a few bottles of beer and talk (maybe) to Ruby, there’s a guy that comes up and slides onto the stool next to her.

He’s handsome, but it’s not right. His hair is too light and too curly, while his eyes are green instead of…blue. The scruff in his face is more like a beard, and his accent, well, there’s really not one. He just sounds normal. There’s no smooth velvet British accent, no dulcet tones that make her skin prickle when an innuendo spills from his tongue. And while she doesn’t know, doesn’t have any interest in finding out, she knows his lips won’t feel right either.

“Hey, buddy,” she stops him in the middle of his sentence, knowing it’s rude, “I really appreciate you coming to talk to me, but I’m not really feeling it tonight.”

“Oh,” he gasps, his wide eyes suddenly straightening and slimming, “well you could have told me that before I put in the effort.”

“I didn’t ask you to talk to me.”

He gets up from the stool, cursing her under his breath, but she doesn’t care. Ruby whistles, the sound reverberating throughout the room. “Damn girl. Why don’t you just bite off his head? It’d be less painful.”

“He was an asshole.”

“He was okay, Ems.”

“He was nice until I shut him down, which always shows a guy’s true colors. You ask them to respect your personal space and they just run away. Always running away.”

She takes a sip of her beer, the liquid coating her throat while condensation falls off the bottle and she blocks everything out but the broken bottle on the top shelf in front of her.

“So what exactly did Killian do to make you so doom and gloom?”

“Why would Killian have any power over me?”

“Because you like him.”

“I do not.”

“Bullshit.” She glances over toward Ruby then, and all of Ruby’s features are focused on her. “That’s bullshit, Emma. You live in the land of being alone except for me and Granny. And yeah, I know you have a fucked up past. We all do. If anything I’ve googled about Killian is right, he does too.”

“Rubes…”

“No, let me finish. You are not a sunshine and roses kind of girl. You’re moonlight and overgrown weeds, but there are people who prefer the night and love the wildness of the weeds. I have never seen you happier than you have been the past few months and whether you like it or not, Killian is part of that.”

“I don’t need a man to make me happy.”

“No, no you don’t. But it doesn’t change the fact that he does. So tell me, what the hell could he have done that was so bad that you’ve been moping around like this for nearly a month?”

She sighs, closing her eyes before opening and looking Ruby dead on. “We fucked.”

“Did you not want to? Is that what the problem is because I’ll kick his ass and chop off his balls.”

“No, I wanted to,” she explains, waving Ruby away before she goes and murders Killian. “We were buzzed, leaning a bit toward drunk, and it just happened. I’m pretty sure I started it. And then I told him to get out. Haven’t heard from him since.”

Ruby’s hand reaches over to hers, holding her palm in between her hands. “Emma, you hurt his feelings. The guy is head over heels for you, he finally gets to be with you, and then you kick him out. I’m not saying you have to go running into his arms or anything, but he probably deserves an apology, for you to talk to him instead of ignoring him. And you probably deserve to realize that you deserve more than sleazy guys hitting on you in bars on a Tuesday.”

“When did you become an expert on feelings?”

“I’m not. Just an expert on my best friend.”

Emma smiles then, the corners of her lips twitching up, before she leans forward and embraces Ruby, holding her as tightly as possible. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to finish drinking with you,” she answers, determined to forget about Killian for a night and focus on spending time with her best friend. “That’s all I can do right now, okay?”

She falls asleep that night a little easier than she has been, and when she wakes at ten the next morning, she’s not nearly as groggy as she usually is. Getting out of bed, she stretches her arms out and accidentally knocks against the wall.

Shit.

Her body freezes in its spot, fear coursing through her as she waits for any response. A knock. Some music. His voice.

She doesn’t hear anything, and that nearly breaks her. Everything Ruby said last night was right. She likes Killian, and that’s exactly why she pushed him away. Stupid, stupid girl.

Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she purposely bangs on the wall before grabbing her phone and blaring whatever first pops up on Spotify until she hears a muffled curse and a slammed door. There you go, Killian. A smile breaks out across her face that only increases when she hears a similar banging on her front door.

It takes less time than usual for her to walk the few steps and unbolt the locks, swinging the door open to Killian’s scowling face. “Bloody hell, woman. Would you politely stop the damn music?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no?” he scowls, everything about his demeanor angry and annoyed and just how she thought it would be. God, she’s missed him. “It’s early, I’m sleeping, and I don’t want to hear any of that crap.”

“You haven’t been playing your music.”

He looks like he’s about to say something else, his mouth gaping open before closing while he furiously blinks. “W-what?”

“You haven’t played your music in twenty-three days.”

“So?”

“That means you haven’t been writing. Why?”

He shrugs. “Haven’t felt like it. I’ve lost the muse lately.”

She takes a few steps forward, ending up with her toes nearly touching his bare feet and her forehead at his nose. “Killian, I’m so sorry that I kicked you out like that.” “Swan, it’s fine.” He reaches up to scratch behind his ear. “It was nothing.”

Liar.

“It’s not. You’re not a random guy. You’re a friend…okay, you’re more than a friend, and I treated you like shit. That’s not okay, and I’m sorry.”

He chuckles before running his hand through his hair and looking up at the ceiling. “Love. I am thirty-four years old, and I have never been this confused by a woman in my life. You’re bloody infuriating.”

“I know.” She chuckles under her breath before reaching out and tentatively touching his wrist, testing the water between them. “And you probably hate me for it.”

“No,” Killian answers, her heartrate picking up to ridiculous levels, “I don’t. I like you, love, have for quite awhile now, and I’d give anything in the world to get a chance to be with you without one of us running away or following the other at work. I quite fancy you, Emma Swan, even though I really want to yell at you.”

“I quite fancy you too.”

“Good.” He smiles before taking a step forward and closing the door behind him. “Now that we have that settled there’s several things that I’d like to do with you in the next hour.”

With that he surges forward and cups the back of her head, pulling her lips into his and devouring her while their hips push together. It’s much more intense than last time, not a one of her senses dulled by alcohol or lack of sleep, so she can feel every inch of him pressing against her while her hands find his back and just try to feel every inch of covered skin until they’re slipping under his t-shirt.

She pulls back, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving, and she can barely catch her breath. Her eyes flutter up and find blue staring down at her.

“Please don’t make me go, Swan.”

“I won’t. I’m not…I’m not good at this, but I want to try. God help me, but I want to try.”

“Are you sure?” he pleads, his eyes searching hers for something. “You have to be sure.”

She doesn’t hesitate to answer though her voice does shake a bit. “I’m sure.”

She squeals when Killian’s arms pick her up, literally sweeping her off her feet and walking her to her bedroom, kicking the door closed and dropping her on the bed so that her squeal is even louder, echoing throughout the room while the mattress bounces underneath her and she tries to catch the breath that was knocked out of her. When she looks up, he’s staring at her, eyes somehow hungry and dark with desire as well as dancing in amusement. She doesn’t know what to do, how to feel. She wants him, but she also wants to be with him, to walk the tentative tightrope of whatever it is they’re doing beyond sex.

Before she can move, he leans down, propping his hands on either side of her shoulders and caging her in. She expects him to kiss her, but he doesn’t, not in the way she was anticipating it. His teeth drag against her exposed collarbone, tongue trailing right behind them, and she gasps out his name with surprising fervor while his teeth and whiskers burn her. Her hands find his back, nails digging into the material of his t-shirt, and that only pushes him further, his tongue dipping into the hollow of her throat while their hips press together, moans escaping them both.

She smiles when his lips find hers, the heat in her belly calming for a moment before he bites her bottom lip and she allows their tongues to curl together. Then it all comes back in a blazing inferno, every inch of her skin heating the more they press themselves together.

“Killian,” she breathes, pulling back from him only for him to press several quick pecks against her lips, making the room lighter than it has been.

“I want you,” he mutters, trailing more hot kisses against her jaw before licking into her mouth, making her toes curl again and again.

“Have me,” she sighs before laughing, “did I really just say that?”

Killian smirks against her skin before his hands find their way under her shirt, trailing up until he ghosts over the swell of her breasts, her lack of bra making everything heightened. His hands are gentle but rough, callouses he’s likely formed from writing with pen and paper when he gets ideas instead of on his laptop covering them, and she whimpers when the pads of his thumb and forefingers find her nipples, bringing them to straining peaks.

“Your breasts are glorious, and I’ve never even seen them.”

Killian is full of the cheesy lines this morning, but apparently she is too.

“Would you like to?”

His eyebrow quirks, practically reaching his forehead, and she knows the answer to that is yes. So she inches backward, letting Killian move back from her, before lifting her shirt over her head, the coolness of the air far outweighed by the heat of his gaze. He studies her as if he’s studying a text, his eyes tracing every inch of her skin while his palms test the weight of her breasts. His touch is as intoxicating as his voice, and her core flutters in anticipation.

Then his lips are on her skin and he bites down against a nipple, teasing her and causing her body to switch between pain and pleasure, never quite sure what she wants. She thinks she just wants it all.

It’s overwhelming the way she feels him everywhere when all of his intentions are focused on her breasts, pushing her into the mattress, and she has to run her fingers through his hair to find some kind of steadiness, holding him to her skin until he starts moving down her body, tongue tracing her freckles while his erection presses against her thigh through his pajama pants. Yeah, this is already a million times better than last time even with the bit of morning breath and newness of them to each other.

His fingers hook into her pajama shorts, pulling them down and off of her body all the while he kisses down her calf, lingering at her ankle before moving up and hovering above her core, his breath hot over her flesh.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, dipping down and pressing a kiss to her mound.

Her back arches off the bed, he smirks, and she snarks, “if you think a vagina is pretty to look at then you’ve got some issues, bud.”

Killian laughs against her skin, his chest rolling and the vibrations reaching her, before his fingers find her flesh, swiping through and gathering the wetness that’s pooled there. It’s – fuck – it’s good, the foreplay not something they did in their jumbled, buzzed mess, but then he slides a finger into her while his thumb finds her clit and she’s flying.

Or almost flying. She’s not quite that keyed up, but she is when Killian continues to curl his fingers inside of her while he moves up the mattress to kiss her again. Then she’s flying and there’s black spots behind her eyes and she can’t breathe from the way her breath catches in her throat and everything stills for just a few seconds.

But then she comes back to herself, and she can feel the way that sweat has beaded at her forehead and how her thighs feel slightly sticky while Killian hovers above her smiling.

“What?” she laughs, reaching up to push his hair off his forehead. “Why do you look so stupid?”

“Tis nothing. You’re just glorious like that, your cheeks flushed and lips pink while you scream out my name.”

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“Shut up,” she scoffs, pushing him off of her before sticking her hands into the waistband of his pants, his tattoo sticking out the slightest bit, “and take off these damn pants.”

“You’re so romantic, darling.”

Her hand brushes over his obvious erection, and he hisses, his teeth clenched and his face scrunched in pain. She feels satisfaction, but she also feels desire, wanting him to be inside of her just this second. “Are you telling me you don’t want to fuck me, Killian Jones? Because we need to do that. I don’t think I’ve ever talked this much during sex,” she tugs at his pants again until his cock emerges and brushes over his ink, “and I’d like some of this.”

He pounces on her then, crushing his mouth to her as he pushes her into the mattress, his body absolutely everywhere. There are words mumbled about protection, and Killian grabs the condom from her beside drawer, taking a little bit too long but then he’s sliding into her in one smooth movement. Fuck. He’s heavy and thick, dragging against her walls in the best way possible as her nails dig into the skin of his shoulders and her feet wrap around his ass, pushing him further into her so they both groan. He begins moving within her, soft and slow thrusts, while his tongue lavishes her breasts, teasing her as they get into a rhythm.

“Killian,” she whines as he rolls his hips, deep and hard, at the same time that he bites down. “Oh, Killian, fuck, that’s good.”

“You’re so fucking tight, squeezing me. This is incredible. You’re incredible.”

He mumbles the words against her breasts before moving up and murmuring more into the skin of her neck. But then he’s kissing her while moving inside of her, their chests heaving together and everything simply feeling right, muscle strains disappearing in the ecstasy of it all. She knew this time would be different than the first. It’s not a drunken hookup, but that’s not the only difference. She feels connected to him somehow and more than just because they’re physically intertwined. It’s like she’s drowning in him, in this, and Killian’s the one with the life raft.

Yeah, she’s definitely been spending too much time with him if she’s thinking like that.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments on a shaky exhale before the slow movements increase and he’s fucking her into the mattress, hard and fast as his thumb moves against her clit, “and so bloody frustrating.”

She’s not – he’s not…she doesn’t have any words, so she uses her mouth to bite into his collarbone like he did to her earlier, digging into his skin and using her heels to make himself bury into her further, feeling her completely. He’s filthy with his whispers, murmuring things like you’re so wet, I want to fuck you forever, and a man could live within you and never tire. The last one makes her laugh while also gasping into an orgasm that overwhelms her, the breath in her chest escaping her while small pinpricks dance across her skin. He fucks her through it, his words coming out on stuttered groans, before he gently pushes into over and over and over again, coming inside of her in a way that makes her eyes close again in the bliss of it all.

When it’s over, she’s spent, and she tries to catch her breath, letting Killian rest on top of her and just drinking it all in.

Yeah, so maybe her neighbor isn’t so bad after all. (And she’s entirely surprised that the Crashing Waves books aren’t absolutely filthy with the way he speaks.)

“You know, love,” Killian whispers sometime later, her curtains closed to block out the light while her nails trace the hair on his chest. “I found something interesting in that drawer of yours.”

“Hmm, I don’t think my vibrator is really all that interesting.”

“No,” he laughs, leaning forward and pressing several lingering kisses against her cheeks, “but Crashing Waves is.”

Oh shit. Oh my God. The book. His books. She’d…she hid the last one in her bedside drawer when they weren’t speaking, and he saw it. He saw it when he went for the condom. She risks looking at him, and he’s absolutely smirking, his eyebrows dancing across his forehead.

Yeah, so he’s still a little bit of that same asshole.

Good. She’s not sure what she’d do without his snarky comments and quick wit. She’s really come to like them as much as she likes him.

“Oh my God, you saw that?” She slaps his shoulder before burying her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the scent of sweat and sex. “You weren’t supposed to ever see that.”

He laughs against the crown of her head while his hand rubs up and down her bare back, fingers trailing into her hair. “I didn’t know you were such a fan of my work, darling.”

She pulls back then, smiling up and him and appreciating the lightness of his gaze. “What are you talking about? I’m a fan of every part of you.”

She kisses him then, soft and sweet and everything.

It’s only later, after a few more rounds that have her spent and after a hell of a lot more talking, when Killian gasps, “we should have played music, love.

I will admit that my books are more about mystery, action, and drama than romance, but I’m also aware that the romance between Connor and Kate is a reason I have so many dedicated fans. I’m sad to say, however, that I fear I have done them an injustice. No, nothing horribly bad will happen between them – if Connor recovers from where we left off mind you – but I’ve written this great love only to find out it’s not so great.

You see, I met a woman recently. Well, not so much recently. We’ve known each other for quite a bit, and I’ve always been infatuated and enamored by her even if she despised me. She’s bloody brilliant in every way possible, and I’ve been able to really and truly discover that as I’ve slowly and surely gotten to know her over the past few years. And I tell you this and tell you that I’ve not written a great love story because she’s taught me what great love actually is.

It’s passionate and messy while also being altogether simple and boring. She riles me up and calms me down all in a five-minute span, and whenever I think I know what’s going to happen next, she surprises me. You see, I love her with every fiber of my being and nothing in my life has ever been so painful and thrilling all at once. It’s wonderful, and I hope that all of you experience a great love one day. This one is it for me. There will never be anything like it.

So to my love, my Emma, my wife, thank you, darling. You push me to be my best, and this book would not be possible without you.

Seriously.

It is you, after all, who inspired me and taught me that even those things we think are impossible may very well be possible. After all, you love me.

Killian Jones

Husband, Soon-to-be father, Honorable Bail Bondsperson, Amateur DJ, and Author.

[kandadiff]

Chevelle (11)

-

“Nothing I said was funny.” I growl clearly annoyed at Gd. The waitress was about to walk over to our table when she saw my face and went to another. Gd leaned back and stopped laughing when he saw how annoyed I was getting but the smirk was still on his face. 

“Stop being so dramatic” he rolled his eyes “I mean Yoongi, isn’t he to quiet for you?”

“Because Seunghyun talks as much as Seungri?” I shot back but he ignored me.

“Well hes pretty small.”

“He’s taller then you!” I shouted causing a few tables to look at us. 

“Look away” he ordered the other patrons who almost immediately shot there eyes away. “And no he isn’t” He shook his head and took a drink of his water “and I wasn’t talking about his height.”

“Really?” I shot up from my seat pushing the chair in violently. 

“You better watch your tantrums Kay” he warned making my eyes instantly roll “you’re a liability in the mountains.”

I was about to shout at him but he was right, if any teacher was around and I was the original cause of the ‘tantrum’ then I would be sent home. So I sucked in a breath and spoke “You know what Jiyong? I hope Adi does choose Jungkook - No! I hope she choses Jay Park and fucks him in front of you!” I stomped away just as his face transformed from playful to angry.

“KAY!” he shouted at me “TAKE THAT BACK OR I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

-

I stomped in the lodge looking at my texts from Suga, I spied Alyssa not to far away so I headed toward the room Yoongi was in to avoid possibly throwing the tantrum I so desperately I wanted to throw. I headed up the stairs seeing Katya with Jungkook on the first floor, Lottie was heading into someones room who wasn’t Lance, and Cassie following around Seungri like a puppy. I headed toeard my room ‘Room 813′ angrily gripping my duffle bag when I spotted the blue haired boy himself, headphones in his eyes looking down at his phone. As though he senses my energy he looked up and a smirk grew on his face.

He held up his phone. “Gonna tell me whats wrong or are you just going to keep sending me angry faced emoji’s?” I huffed and he took my duffle bags from my hands. “I figured youd be happy, Joon told me you told him and you got to see Jimin fall plenty of times on ice.”

“I’m just annoyed at fucking GD!” I sighed leaning against the wall. “GD doesn’t stand for GDragon, it stands for Giant douche!” He laughed showing his gummy smile and I couldn’t help but smile at him. 

“Jiyong is the only reason you’re upset?” he asked pulling the bag over his shoulder.

I stopped and eyed at him “why? did Damien speak to you?” He cocked an eyebrow at this and I shook my head “Nothing.”

“The talk with Liam, you aren’t going to mention that?” he mumbled and I settled on the nearby sitting nook that looked out over the ski slopes. I knew he was bothered by Liam and the look on his face showed me it wasn’t just a little. I pulled him to sit next to me and took his hand in my own. He was slightly tense but I sighed. 

“It wasn’t important trust me.” I shook my head.

“What did he want?” he grumbled quietly.

“He wanted to get back together and sing a song together for the music project” he stiffened even more, I frowned at his reaction “I told him that wasn’t going to happen. I’m kinda with someone now.” the faintest whisper of a smirk came over his face. “His name is Yoongi, hes some dumb dork from Daegu, I think his nickname is like Sugar or some stupid thing like that.” The smile grew and he stood up.

“He sounds hot, for a geek like you.” He said and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh he’s so hot, like a pale little gummy bear.” I laughed and shook my head. I took his hand again. “Now you promised to go sledding.” He made a face and I shook my head “You promised!” I reminded him and i waved at the Max and Tyler who were walking buy with hockey gear.  

“Fine.” he grumbled “But its so cold outside, lets stay inside.”

“No purpling.” I reminded him. He was about to say something when we heard a deep voice calling his name out. 

Everything went so quickly after that. We both turned to see Jay and Zico on either side of Woo who was racing towards us looking more like a bull then ever before. I had never seen him so upset and I was scared he was going to hit me when he raised his fist. But before he could reach us Suga pushed me out of the way, Tyler and Max’s raced toward us, i landed on tyler and Max tried to push Woo away but Suga took woo’s heavy fist to his face anyway. 

Suga was prepared for the blow as soon as he heard Woo shout his name and took it in stride. It wasn’t as powerful as woo would have liked given he was thrown off balance by the football tackle Max shot at him. Despite the blow not being as powerful as Woo wanted it still was enough to burst a blood vessel in his mouth causing a few drips to spit out of his mouth. 

Tyler tried to push me behind him but I shot towards woo throwing myself at him as he tried to push Max off of him and Suga got his footing. It was Zico and Jay that managed to get Max off of him for a quick moment and Woo’s hand shot out at me. His hand enclosing around my neck making me freeze in terror. He didn’t squeeze or anything just held my throat in his huge tattooed hand. 

“Little one,” His voice was deep “Leave Daddy to do this and he’ll punish you later. Don’t make it worse for yourself.” He let me go and pushed me gently back as Max and Tyler tried to get Jay and Zico off of him. 

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” My arm shot out and I slapped woo as hard as I could. Suga pulled me back just as a few people raced up the stairs. Woos fist wind up again and Suga landed a quick blow to his face just as Woo hit him hard in the chest. Max threw Jay off of him and violently pushed Woo back. 

“Want to punch someone?!” Max shouted at him “Punch me asshole!”

“What the hell is going on here?!” Mr Jameson shouted pushing his way threw the crowd and up the stairs. He stepped between Woo and Max and shot a look at me. “Of course you’re involved Miyuki!” 

“What?! ARE YOU KIDDING! I DIDN’T DO SHIT!”

“Stop yelling!” He screamed at me. “We are at an avalanche risk with your big mouth! I warned you Miyuki about your child tantrums!”

“She didn’t do shit Jameson!”  Suga shouted at him as Jin raced over to him helping him up. 

“Really?” Jameson shook his head “GO TO YOUR ROOM MIKYUKI AND DON’T YOU DARE COME OUT UNTIL I COME AND GET YOU MYSELF!” I knew what Jameson was doing as he screeched at me. He was trying to get me angry so I would throw a full screaming fit. It was tempting, very tempting as I balled my fists and prepared my throat for a vigorious screaming match that was until I saw Suga’s face bruise blackening and Max and woo glaring at each other and figured I needed to be here for that so I balled my fists holding my skirt tightly and kept my mouth shut. I shot a death glare at Jameson and picked up my duffle bag walking through the crowd to my room.

-

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (31 of 41?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, and @courtorderedcake <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE!!!!!******

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!BOLDED AGAIN IN CASE YOU WANT TO REFRESH YOUR MEMORY BEFORE READING THIS RELATED FLASHBACK...*************************

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*****AMAZING AND ALSO HEARTBREAKING COVER ART!!!!! MY POOR BOY, HELPLESS AND SCREAMING WHILE HE SLOWLY LOSES HIS GRIP ON REALITY… D: COCOHOOK38 IS TRYING TO KILL US ALL!!!!*************

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

Two days ago...

The barn fire was getting too big too quickly. While it was true that the Master’s orders called for total destruction, there were multiple other buildings on the list, and this would alert the authorities far too soon.

Sure enough, before the slaves had a chance to regroup, a siren sounded in the distance, growing closer at an alarming speed. Killian ducked around the corner of the building farthest from the road while he considered his options.

Above all, Killian desperately wished he could allow himself to be captured, to give himself up to be tended with proper medical care and painkillers and a soft bed. He wanted more than anything for this nightmare to be over, to simply collapse in the arms of his beloved and admit defeat. But then they would not have one iota of gain to show for all of the suffering. They would lose their advantage and would have to come up with another way to defeat the monster, a possibility that seemed more hopeless with each passing day.

As it was, Killian did have the inklings of an idea buried deep, meticulously guarded from the Master’s probing thoughts. If he could somehow communicate the particulars to his Swan without the collar camera overhearing... But it all depended upon his Master not seeing him as a threat. Which meant continuing on with the charade and the misery.

It was the Chevelle: Detective Jones and his new partner, David. What Killian had been expecting and dreading at the same time. He would not be permitted to stand idly by while his fellow slaves were rounded up by his friends. He had a sword; his Master would oblige him to use it. And both of them were formidable opponents, especially in his weakened state.

ELIMINATE THEIR ESCAPE ROUTE, growled the Master's voice in his head, slightly quieter than normal but not by much. From the shaky, unreliable views at throat level, it would not be able to discern details yet, only that the new arrivals represented both a threat to its current slaves as well as potential victims to add to its horde.

While the two officers climbed out of the vehicle and raced to investigate the blazing barn, Killian staggered around the opposite corner, behind their backs and to the concealed side of the car. He could hear definite sounds of battle: stun guns and then pistol shots as his friends struggled against far too many opponents. With a grunt of exertion, Killian drove the point of his blade into the front left tire.

Before long, Jones and David decided to retreat. They were approaching the car. Killian made his way to the back left wheel well, grimacing. The confrontation was inevitable now.

Tasked with clearing their escape route, David was the first to spot him.

“Killian?”

He did not fire his gun, which Killian confirmed was his regular pistol and not the stun weapon. Damn it, there would be no easy way out of this one. Killian had no difficulty summoning his bleakest expression. Never mind seeing his friend for the first time in weeks; that friend would likely never trust him again. He would have to make a very realistic attempt to bring David down, possibly hurting him in the process. Was it any wonder, then, that he felt no joy at the reunion?

THAT ONE APPEARS TO HAVE A NOURISHING VOICE. CAPTURE HIM IF YOU CAN, TRIPOD, BUT DO NOT ALLOW YOURSELF TO BE TAKEN.

David was trying to talk him down, stepping carefully forward with his hands raised, his pistol loose in his grip and pointing toward the sky. As one in a trance, Killian stumbled his way to the third tire, speared it with his weapon, then paused to catch his breath. He could see the prince slowly reaching for the handcuffs at his belt. In the background, Jones was engaged in a desperate hand-to-hand struggle; like it or not, Killian's fellow slaves may take care of him on their own.

Killian allowed the point of his sword to rest on the ground, leaning back against the car in only slightly exaggerated exhaustion. He would not go to David; he needed David to bring the fight to him. It was all he had the energy for. Breathing heavily, Killian tried to block out his father-in-law's continued pleas, his reminders who waited for him at home, who was worried about him. None of it mattered if he was not successful in his quest.

Mere steps away, David had holstered his pistol and was reaching, almost too slowly to see, toward Killian's wrist.

“Come on, buddy. Let's get you taken care of, huh?”

Killian measured distances out of the corner of his eye. Waiting until the last possible second. Counting on the possibility that David would hold back and expect Killian to do the same. That Killian's true nature would result in the same feelings of restraint which guided David's actions.

With only centimeters to spare, Killian lashed out with the butt of his sword, driving it into David's solar plexus. The prince doubled over, winded, and Killian did not allow him time to recover. He followed the blow with a strike to the temple. Already twisted slightly as he fumbled for his pistol, David went limp and fell heavily to the ground, landing on his side. The thump of his body meeting dirt seemed to vibrate all the way up to the pit of Killian’s stomach where guilt normally lived.

KILL THIS ONE. BRING THE OTHER.

David seemed to be unconscious. He could not resist. Killian had run out of excuses. His Master was watching, and the nearest approaching siren was still much too far. Feigning breathlessness, Killian lurched the two steps that separated him from the helpless form of his father-in-law. Struggling to maintain his balance, he stepped over the obstacle, positioned himself behind David, and used a vicious kick to turn him onto his stomach. Then, as he straddled the body for maximum control, he allowed himself one quick glance in Jones' direction: now armed with a sword himself, the detective was finishing off his final opponent. If he could time this just right…

Killian magnified his tremors for the Master’s benefit as he held his blade poised above his target. Just as important as timing was the selection of a landing site. But he had to make it look as if his physical condition caused him to miss a fatal blow.

One good thing about David being unconscious: Killian didn't have to suppress the additional remorse that would have surely resulted from the pained reaction to his sword clattering off of David's shoulder blade.

Killian staggered as if surprised by the obstruction, and as he did so, he noticed that Jones had dropped his final attacker. With a dispassion born of his now-familiar mantra, Killian readied his weapon for a second strike.

Jones arrived just in time. Hope kidnapped, Hope tortured, Hope dead.

BRING THIS ONE TO ME!

The mental command had a noticeably greater insistence than usual, bordering on frantic hunger. It was the closest it had ever come to instilling the mindless compulsion that drove all other slaves.

Killian knew why his Master was so adamant. And could not allow it.

Jones engaged in their shared tactic of posturing, and even if he weren't playing the part of a broken-down, hopeless slave, Killian was too weary to answer back.

The pair had sparred before, a friendly contest here and there, a way to keep up their skills in a more peaceful world than the one in which they’d spent most of their lives. And Killian could tell right away that, just as he did during those contests of no import, Jones was playing it safe, holding back to prevent injury, and that was the last thing Killian wanted him to do. His Master would notice if the fight were not authentic, and if they both curbed their strikes, it would be revealed as a farce.

The slash to his sword arm was entirely accidental; Killian knew by the look on Jones’ face. But the burning wound was somehow enough to spur the fight into high gear, with resulting bloodshed on both sides. They traded blows. Killian could feel half-healed wounds beginning to open with the exertion. Jones, too, bled from more than one gash but seemed not to notice.

Killian could not catch his breath. The scene begin to take on a shadowy, murky quality and he moved solely by instinct. Tenuous footing caused a very real stumble, quick reflexes allowed Jones to catch his sword arm, and Killian should have allowed it to end then. But his left arm was free, and he moved without thinking, or perhaps his Master’s hunger for a twin Tripod overcame his usual immunity to its edicts. He swung his stump with all the strength he could muster, driving the wrist ring straight into the detective’s face.

Crystalline flames consumed Killian's wrist. Jagged tendrils climbed his forearm like steadily growing cracks in a pane of glass. He could do nothing but cradle the arm in breathless anguish as he waited for the defeating blow.

TAKE HIM, TRIPOD. TAKE HIM NOW!

His Master's command screamed through his mind and was just enough to mask his terrible pain. The nearing sirens would explain the urgency: not much longer before the opportunity was lost. Clutching the throbbing limb to his side, Killian responded to the order and struck out blindly with his blade.

The shock wave of steel against steel raced up his arm, jolting even the fiercely complaining wrist on the opposite side. Somehow taken by surprise, Jones lost his sword and stumbled back into the outstretched arm of a downed slave.

The Master's exultation as the detective hit the ground was short-lived. The crunch of gravel announced the arrival of backup, and though Jones was unarmed and struggling against the grip on his ankle, Killian would not have enough time to secure him and drag him away. The Master knew it too.

TOO LATE, it growled. DISPOSE OF HIM QUICKLY AND RETREAT.

Killian could not bring himself to look at the resignation on his friend's face as he readied his blade. In fact, the only reason he managed to watch at all was because he might miss and cause serious harm otherwise.

A car door slammed. His sword stabbed down into flesh.

GO, howled the Master.

"Killian!" came the frantic cry from behind.

It was her--Hope kidnapped--it was--Hope tortured--oh gods--Hope dead--Hope DEAD--Swan. His Swan. He only had to turn and she would be there. Right before him, in the flesh, not a bittersweet memory seen through a haze of pain--HOPE DEAD!!!

Killian was staggering away before he was even aware of it, desperate to preserve the illusion, to keep his resolve from crashing to the ground like all of his groaning comrades around him. If he saw her... if he met her eyes…

She was calling him, begging him to stop, and just hearing her voice again was enough to bring him to tears. He missed her so much; their separation rivaled the worst of the tortures, and maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he abandoned their plot--HopeDeadHopeDeadHopeDead--

He heard the pistol discharging at the same instant as a crippling pain burrowed its way into his back, knocking him forward, flat on his face in the grass. But dazzling lights exploded in his brain and zapped in scalding waves along every single nerve path in his body, and he did not even feel the jarring landing.

Present (Friday, continued)...

The guards in the surveillance room were considerably more alert than the one at the armory. Perhaps due to their proximity to their Master--they were, after all, in the same building--or the fact that it had reason to visit more frequently. Whatever the explanation, they’d leapt to their feet the instant Killian had pushed the door open.

They weren’t armed and probably could not fathom ill-intent from a fellow slave. Still, the moment they saw his sword, they must have known he was up to no good. Two charged him recklessly, no thought for their own safety, while the third managed to lift her wooden chair to use as a shield-slash-weapon.

With the sword hilt, Killian quickly felled the first two assailants, every single movement tearing at the screws in his neck. He growled and stumbled over their unconscious forms just as a set of chair legs swiped at his midsection. A fragmented pair of wooden rods clattered to the floor as Killian brought his blade down hard. The remaining slave staggered and snarled, but she did not back off. Lurching forward, she swiped the still-vibrating chair in the other direction, forcing Killian to dodge the splintered edges coming for his face. One of the intact legs caught him in the abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs and doubling him over.

Blindly, through darkening vision, mind-numbing pain, and the desperate panic of not being able to breathe, Killian lashed out with his sword. There was a thunk as the blade contacted wood, and he only barely managed to hold on through the shock wave. The chair flew upward, the seat back slammed into the woman’s forehead, and she crumpled backwards in a heap, the damaged chair on top.

Killian clutched at his belly and finally managed a small breath. Eyes watering, heart racing, he limped to the row of monitors even as stars twinkled in his peripheral vision. He had no time for recovery, no time to secure the temporarily stunned guards. His Master would have sensed the threat. It could be here at any time. And there was no clinging to the charade of obedience anymore.

“Swan,” he wheezed, praying she’d had enough time for preparation. He squinted at the first screen. “Entrance to the hospital Emergency Department.” He sucked a deeper breath, held it, grimacing. Screen two. “Holding cells in the sheriff station…. City Hall auditorium…” The fourth and fifth cameras were in locations he could not identify, possibly outside of Storybrooke. Gritting his teeth, Killian hobbled to that side of the desk, noting that the first two feeds had already been replaced by other images. Emma was ready! They may have a chance after all.

Killian had little clue how to switch the feeds of the last two cameras, but he began clicking randomly in the program regardless. He had to find one which Emma could control. The image changed. A slave collar, overseeing the destruction of property. Then someone’s bedroom from their webcam. A random front porch. Killian battled rising urgency. There was no time. There had to be… there!

“The cemetery,” he barked, already moving to the final screen. “Turn them on, love! My Master could be--”

The inside door swung open with a crash. And into the room, wearing an expression of pure malice, scuttled the imposing shape of the scream-eating monster.

His Master. They were too late.

[waywardnerd67]

Wrong Impression

Summary: (Y/N) runs into the famous Winchester Brothers while on a hunt. Dean’s first impression of her infuriates her and she makes a point to change his opinion of her.   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1436 Prompt: “Assuming I was like most girls was your first mistake.” A/N #1: For @atc74 F3 Challenge A/N #2: As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!

(Y/N) parked her car right outside the dingy bar where she had tracked down some vamps. Looking in the rearview mirror she pushed her thick rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and tighten the ponytail on the crown of her head.

Looking at her, no one would ever know she was a hunter. Driving from state to state killing monsters that went bump in the night. After losing her fiancé to a nest of vampires, she vowed to take every fang out of existence. She had heard what other hunters had to say about her and could not care less about it. Her methods for hunting had not failed her yet.

She grabbed her messenger bag from the backseat with her laptop in it and made her way into the bar. The stench of beer and leather hit her like a tidal wave. (Y/N) made her way to an empty booth pulling out her laptop and turning it on. She looked around seeing nothing but bikers and prostitutes lingering around.

That is when her eyes fell upon two men sitting at a table across the bar. They were speaking adamantly with one another. The men seemed familiar and then she caught a glimpse of the shiny blade at one of their sides.

“Hunters.” She whispered to herself rolling her eyes. (Y/N) did not play well with others and more so when she was on a fang case.

She watched as the man with longer hair pointed to a group in the back of the bar. The other man turned around and she got a better look of him. His short sandy brown hair was spiked up messily. He wore a flannel shirt over a plain t-shirt and jeans along with a canvas jacket. It was his eyes that caught her by surprise. Even from across the bar, they were bright green shining in the low lighting.

“Damn, pretty boy hunters.” She chuckled to herself. Unbeknownst to her, she had caught the attention of the very vampire she had tracked there.

He was decked out in all denim with slicked back hair. He smiled down at her, “Hey gorgeous, what’s a good girl like you doing in a place like this?”

His picked line made her want to vomit but she swallowed the urge down placing her best innocent smile on her lips, “I just need a place to connect my laptop too, so I can get a bus ticket back home. I’m… I’m kind of lost.”

His smile got impossibly bigger as she hooked him easily. “Well you’re in luck because I can help you find your way back. Just come with me.”

“Really? Oh, thank you so much.” She said packing up her things quickly and following the vamp outside.

She glanced back to take one last look at the pretty boy hunter and saw they were no longer there. “Crap.” She thought to herself.

The vamp led her out to the far end of the parking lot where there were hardly any cars. No one from the bar would be able to hear her if she screamed which was good for when she sliced this guy’s head off.

She touched the handle of her blade hidden beneath her jacket, “So where are we going?” she asked her voice soft and innocent.

Counting in her head down from three the vampire attacked as she hit the number one. Pressing her against the car nearest them and as she was about to fend him off he was suddenly pulled off her. She watched as the taller of the hunters stood in between her and the vamp.

“Everything will be okay. Go ahead and get out of here.” He said to her keeping her back from the vamp.

The green-eyed hunter had the vamp kneeling on the ground and he looked up to his partner, “Get her out of here Sammy.”

The one nearest to her grabbed her arm pulling her away. She began to fight him off as he picked her up, “I’m not going to hurt you. Just want to get you to safety.”

(Y/N) watched as the other hunter was distracted for a split second and the vampire saw an opening to attack. He knocked the man down hovering over me with his teeth descending. The man set her down turning around, “Dean!” he yelled running towards him.

The names registered inside (Y/N)’s head, “Sam and Dean… Winchester.” She whispered having heard all about the famous brothers.

The vampire kicked Sam away as he lowered his mouth down towards Dean, “Winchesters. I’m going to enjoy draining you.”

(Y/N) did not waste any time pulling her blade out and slicing the vamp’s head clean off. Dean pushed the body off him getting up quickly as Sam walked towards him holding his stomach. The two famous hunters look to her stunned.

“Damn, missy miss didn’t need our help apparently.” Dean said kicking the vamp’s head lightly.

She rolled her eyes wiping her blade down with a rag in her bag, “There’s at least three more vamps inside. Do you think you two can keep from getting bit long enough to finish out the nest?” She asked walking back towards the bar not waiting for their answer.

She could hear their heavy footsteps behind her as she approached the bar. The side door opened as the rest of the vamps came walking out. “Damn, I told Luke not to mess with that chick. He can never resist a school girl.” One of the vamps said her eyes traveling the length of (Y/N)’s body.

“What can I say, I’ve always had horrible taste in men.” (Y/N) said with a smirk as Sam and Dean came along either side of her.

“Winchesters, when did you get a pet nerd? Where’s Luke?” she asked them not even giving (Y/N) a second glance.

She started laughing as the brothers looked at her like she was crazy, “Luke kind of lost his head over me.”

The female vampire narrowed her eyes at (Y/N) a low menacing growl coming from her ruby red lips, “You’ll pay for that bitch.”

“Eat me, Twilight.” (Y/N) said with a smirk pushing her glasses up before bringing out her blade.

In one brief instant everyone was perfectly still to see who would make the first move then in a single breath the vamp lounged at her. The three hunters each took on a vamp fighting against them. Sam easily cut off his vamp’s head just as (Y/N) did to hers. Dean had taken on the biggest of the three and was having a hard time.

(Y/N) walked up behind the vamp and swung easily through his undead flesh as his body crumbled before her. Dean’s olive eyes looked down to her in awe as she wiped off blood splatter from her face. “You okay there, princess?” she asked.

His brow furrowed, and his lips were in a tight straight line, “I’m fine. Thanks.” His voice was slightly strained in annoyance.

Sam was chuckling off to the side watching his brother grumpily walk towards their famous black Chevy. As she walked up to her car parked next to them Dean gawked at her, “This is yours?”

(Y/N) nodded proudly running her hand over her beloved 1967 Chevy Chevelle, “Yes she is. I rebuilt her myself.”

Dean’s jaw slacked as he affectionately looked from the car to her. She raised an eyebrow at him, “Spit it out Winchester.”

“I… I thought you were like most girls or the damsel in distress, but you are far from it. You’re awesome.” He said his deep voice filled with admiration. Sam was now rolling his eyes chuckling.

(Y/N) walked over to Dean, pushing him against his car and pressing her body against his feeling every firm muscle in his chest, “Assuming I was like most girls was your first mistake. See you around, pretty boy hunter.”

She pressed her lips to his cheek and walked away from him getting in her car. As she drove away she watch bright eyes and wide smile watch her tail lights drive away. Chuckling she said to herself, “Good god, I hope he calls.”

Within a few hours, without knowing her name or anything about her, she was sitting in her motel room and there was a knock on the door. (Y/N) answered the door with her hands on her hips, “Took you long enough pretty boy.”

He scooped her up kicking the door shut with his foot and carried her to the bed where she got to show him who she really was.

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @waywardrose13 @carryonmywaywardcaptain @anotherwaywardsister @ladywinchester1967 @dwgrl1903 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @mirandaaustin93 @spnbaby-67 @time-travel-bouqet @1967-essentialghoul @dean-winchesters-bacon @destielhoneybee @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis @bella-ca @drakelover78 @imascio08 @pisces-cutie @mannls @the-salty-asian @winchesterprincessbride @xostephanie @klanceiscannon14 @superromijn @witch-of-letters @screechingartisancashbailiff

Tags: #Angelina’s F3 Challenge

Due: 01/05/19

[killianmesmalls]

And Who Knows?

“Maybe our cursed memories will be better...” 

Chapter: 1/?

Summary: What if Ella and Hook had both been holding the white elephant when the curse hit, and it managed to work for them both? A potentially multi-chapter fic in which Tilly is Rogers’s daughter, inspired by the what-ifs of @thesschesthair​ and @unordinary-modern-princess​. 

Warnings: None

Note: The only name I am potentially taking liberties with is Tilly being a nickname for Mathilda. Aside from that, I don’t want to say a name and have it later be fully wrong so... yes, Rogers is still just Rogers and Robin, for now, is just “girlfriend”. 

“How the bloody hell you can sleep past two in the afternoon is beyond me,” Detective Rogers said into the phone, his work momentarily forgotten. He’d been toiling on a case since dawn, his eyes now dry and computer-strained, as the light voice on the other end lifted into a bit of a whine.

“It’s after finals. After all the all-nighters I spent in the studio finishing my projects, I think I deserve some quality rest.”

“Tilly, you wouldn’t have had to spend all night working if you had actually worked on them throughout the semester,” he retorted, shaking his head. His daughter was a senior at the University of Washington, now one semester away from an art degree, and he felt like he had given the same lecture since her freshman year.  

“Papa, no one does that. Do you have any idea how full the library, labs, studio, everything were on the last week? They even brought in therapy puppies!”

“I know, I saw your Instagram updates when you were supposedly studying.”

He could practically hear her roll her eyes. Rogers knew his daughter regretted the day she shared her Instagram username with him, though it did put him at ease when she was away and he knew, to some extent, what she was up to.

He’s overprotective; they both knew it. He had been since the moment she was first put in his arms there in the hospital. A scared, wildly unprepared teenager who was already a nightmare for the foster system, and this tiny, wrinkled, personified shriek that seemed to never stop crying. Since the moment they were both left behind, his life suddenly shifted into legal concerns, parenting books, and GED studies.

“Papa?”

“Yes, love?” he asked, shaking off the flood of memories.

“You alright? You spaced out for a minute. I was about to text Weaver to get your attention.”

Rogers chuckled into the receiver, a breathy scratch into the line. “Were you going to ask him to taze me again?”

“He’s never going to do it, you know, so I don’t know what the harm is in asking.”

Rogers rubbed his eyes, the traces of a smile still hanging on his lips. “You’re determined to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

“I don’t want you to die. What fun would that be? Anyway, I called to see what you wanted for dinner. I’m buying. Celebrating.”

“Celebrating? What are we celebrating?”

A mischievous giggle escaped Tilly, filling Rogers with a swell of affection. “That’s for me to know and you to find out later. Now, dinner. What do you want?”

“Your heart’s desire, love.”

“I knew you wouldn’t answer. Fine, I’ll figure it out. Ice cream and cakes.”

He sighed, leaning back in his deck chair. “Tilly, you should at least get a vegetable in—“

“Thanks for the go-ahead, Papa! I’ll see you tonight.”

“Mathilda?” he started, impatiently enunciating her full name, “Did you—“

“Love you, bye!” she finished in a rush, then the line went dead. Rogers sat there, torn between calling her back to give her an earful and letting her eat pure sugar to her heart’s content if there was, indeed, something to celebrate. The second half won out and he hung up the phone, giving his sore eyes one last rub.

In the near-silence of the station, his mind wandered between his daughter and the case. She often wondered aloud if he would be as neurotic as he was if he had never joined the police force, if he never had to know exactly how bad humanity could be, and then come home to worry about her. She knew why he joined, of course. Between his brother’s murder and the little matter of feeling indebted to Weaver…

“Your daughter texted me.” Speak of the devil. Rogers looked up to see the half-judging look on his partner’s face, a look he had grown used to over the last twenty-three years. These days they were less directly focused at him as they had been when he was a teenager, especially since joining the force and fully embracing sobriety. His daughter, on the other hand, made up for his current lack of trouble.

“She told me she was about to, not that she did.”

“She asked me if there were any medications in evidence I could give you to make you relax. Of course, her wording was more colorful.”

“Of course it was.” She was far too like him at her age—all mouth and roguish glances.

Weaver placed a cup of black coffee on his desk and scanned over the files open on his computer. “Any luck on that murder case?”

“Nothing since last night. I figure we’ll have to go speak to witnesses before we go and further,” said Rogers, already packing up his things and giving a nod of thanks for the coffee.

“You’re driving,” replied Weaver, Rogers holding up his keys to indicate he already knew. In all their years knowing each other, they were getting damn predictable. Rogers had to admit to himself that it beat the tumultuous days of his youth. There was something calming about not being at each other’s throats as they had once been.

Hell, he thought, back then I thought we were destined to be worst enemies, no matter what either of us did. Go figure.  

The day went on as expected. A few new insights into his case, a lunch trip to Roni’s where he traded a few well-meaning barbs with the owner, and some annoyed conversations with his partner. By the time he pulled his SS Chevelle into his driveway, the sunset was peeking out over the houseboat he shared with his daughter, and a melancholy flutter grabbed him.

Days like this were going to be fleeting, he knew. Tilly was only a few months away from graduation, and had discussed backpacking the world with her girlfriend for a year before finally settling down. No more dinners together or her saving all her laundry for him to help with. No more of him lecturing her about her studies or her lack of routine. She was an adult now, and mostly he had been robbed of his rights to scold or guide, but her still living with him and him still helping pay her way through life kept a few wisps of parental privileges in his hands.

A few more months, and they’d be gone. Where the hell had the time gone? He saw traces of it sometimes in the graying hair at his temples or the crow’s feet by his eyes, but mostly it alluded him. He took a deep breath to steady himself, forcing a smile on his face. Tilly said they were to celebrate something. There was no way in hell he was going to take any happiness away from his little girl.

“You’re on time!” she exclaimed the moment he opened the door, the scent of various spices greeting him. Before he could register what he was smelling, she caught him off guard and launched into his arms with a bear hug.

“I tried. Work wasn’t crazy today and you said we were celebrating. So… out with it.”

“Huh? Out with what? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, her blue eyes twinkling.

“Mathilda…”

She giggled and pulled away to look at him fully now. “Two things, actually. The first being that I aced most of my finals! I got a B in my physics class, but I really don’t agree with some of their ideas when it comes to portals and—“

He cut her off with a bear hug of his own, kissing her cheek. “I’m so proud of you! That’s brilliant!”

Tilly flushed in an embarrassed pride before continuing, “My art project also got selected to be featured in a gallery right here in Seattle. That series I did that I showed you pictures of?”

“The one where it’s different views from outside a window?” he asked. There was something about those pictures that saddened him. While he knew she saw other worlds, all he could see was his daughter felt like she was inside looking out. A guilt from somewhere he couldn’t quite place nagged at him, but her smile pulled him back.

“That’s it! I have two tickets if you want to go to the opening this weekend.”

Rogers’s eyebrows knitted and he rested his hands on her arms. “I’d love to, but don’t you want to bring your girlfriend?”

Tilly shrugged. “She’s still in Phuket, couldn’t get a flight home in time. Besides, this feels like something I want to share with you. Since you’ve been so supportive and all, I wanted you to see how much that support has helped me. I want to share it with my papa.”

He beamed at her words, downright glowing at “papa”. For some reason, she had clung to that word growing up. Not “dad” or anything more cold, like “father”. Something about it made Rogers feel special, and he had never felt that more than in this moment.

“I’d be honored, love,” he said, giving her another kiss on the cheek before leveling her with a mock-serious glare. “Did you really get ice cream and cakes for dinner?”

“Would you be surprised if I did?”

“Not at all.”

Tilly laughed outright before shaking her head. “I know you, you’d go mad. Even if you didn’t say anything, I know you’d be losing it in your head. No, I got Thai food and just one cake for later.”

The Thai food wasn’t lost on him—she dearly missed her girlfriend and he knew, even subconsciously, this was a way for her to share the news with her, too. He opted not to say anything on the subject, only giving her one last peck on the forehead and wandering with her into the kitchen.

He helped her carry the take-out containers and silverware into the living room where they ate on relaxed, special occasions. Together they settled the items on the coffee table, right next to a white elephant figurine he couldn’t quite recall buying but didn’t have the heart to get rid of. Soon, they descended into a comfortable conversation—the classes she planned to take next semester to finish up her requirements, a funny story about Weaver nearly losing his mind on a witness, and their shared hopes for where her travels after graduation would take her. While he was still saddened by the idea of her leaving, a deeper happiness spoke of relief that she could travel at all. Something inside him felt compelled to encourage her, to allow her this time to feel free.

[the-record-newspaper]

The killing of Rhonda Hinson: Part 21

The Hinson family: Rhonda’s mother, Judy; brother, Robbie; and father, Bobby. This photo was taken by a photographer from the News Herald in Morganton about a month after Rhonda was killed in December of 1981. 

By LARRY J. GRIFFIN

Special Investigative Reporter

For The Record

 It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.—Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

 Marguerite Fletcher lived in Holly Hills located approximately one-half mile from the Mineral Springs Mountain exit ramp off Interstate 40 West.  In fact, she lived in proximity to Rhonda Hinson’s best friend, Jill Turner-Mull.  And on Dec. 23, 1981—unbeknownst to her—Ms. Fletcher would become one of the two most credible, oft-quoted witnesses to an impending crime: the killing of Rhonda Hinson.  

At the time, Ms. Fletcher was employed at Curley’s Fish Camp in Hildebran and was driving home subsequent to her evening shift and likely a visit to a friend’s house.  It was approaching 12:30 a.m., when she turned off the exit and paused at the stop sign at the end of the ramp before routinely turning left toward her Hazel Street residence.  

According to earlier reportage, Ms. Fletcher purportedly told law enforcement that she observed a blue General Motors Chevy parked under the bridge at the Mineral Springs Mountain overpass and two white males sitting inside it. The vehicle was facing in a northerly direction [toward Valdese] and parked near the I-40 Westbound off ramp that Rhonda Hinson would subsequently travel.

But in an April 9, 1987, recorded conversation with Judy Hinson—over five years after Rhonda’s shooting death, and heard by this writer over the weekend past—Marguerite recounted that which she could recall of the fateful evening, adding one other insightful detail:

“I always came through there when I worked at Curley’s…I don’t remember what time it was—it’s been so long.  I do remember though that it wasn’t long before that [the shooting] happened…I think it was minutes before it happened.  There was an old model car parked under the bridge; I don’t remember what color it was.  I remember as I was coming on the off ramp, I saw this car, and this man got out.  The reason I remember that is that the man had on an outfit the same color as his car.  It was cold.  He was going to the back of his car toward the trunk.  I don’t know cars, but it looked like a newer car.  I looked in my rearview mirror, and he was at the trunk doing something.  I then saw the car under the bridge….

“That was the first time I had seen a car there, and I haven’t seen one since....I didn’t notice if anyone else was in the car with the man on the off ramp. The man that was getting out of that car (It was beige and his clothes were beige.) was an older man.  The reason I remember it so well is because of his clothes being the same color of the car.

Marguerite Fletcher told Judy Hinson that she was tired and paying little attention at the time, though she maintained that better attention would have been afforded if she had even a prescient inkling that something significant was about to occur that evening.

I could have gotten the tag number….It looked like the car on the off ramp was a hatchback, between a tan and a beige, with an outfit that matched the car to a tee.

Though Ms. Fletcher could not recollect the color of car parked at the bridge, she averred that at the time law enforcement initially questioned her, she was able to tell them the color.  

The strangest thing about the car under the bridge was that it was on the wrong side of the road, facing Valdese—going toward Valdese on the left side, directly under the bridge.  

The late Reggie Donald Smart was working on his truck at Lawrence Fulbright’s Garage, located approximately one mile north of Valdese, during the early morning of Dec. 23, 1981.  He left the garage about 1 a.m., to return home. His statement recounting the events of the evening would become the second most significant eyewitness account of the crime scene and the only passer-by to-date to see Rhonda Hinson slumped over the steering wheel of her Datsun 210.  

In his interview with Lieutenant Warlick of the Burke County Sheriff’s Department and Special Agent John Suttle of the SBI, he detailed his journey toward I-40.  The following is excerpted from SA Suttle’s recapitulation:

“…He observed a beige car backed into the ditch on the right side of the road in the direction he was traveling.  He said he was not sure of the make of the car; but, it was beige and appeared new.  He said he observed a white female with blond hair slumped over the steering wheel, leaning forward, and more to the driver’s side of the car.  He said the door was open and the dome light was on at the time he observed it.”

He said he observed a white male about 6-feet tall standing on the outside of the driver’s door.  He said he estimated the weight of this white male as 170 pounds.  He said he could not recall the color of this white male’s hair, nor how he was dressed.

Mr. Smart stated that he didn’t think much about what he had witnessed at first, concluding that he had happened upon a mishap perpetrated by a drunken driver.  Given that assumption, he didn’t get a good look at the man standing at the driver’s door.  

Subsequent to his initial statement to authorities, Reggie Smart submitted to hypnosis in an effort to ascertain details of that evening tucked in the recesses of his brain.  On Wednesday Nov. 15, 1989, the TV show Unsolved Mysteries aired a segment relative to the killing of Rhonda Hinson.  In it, the producers aired an excerpted segment of the actual audio tape from Reggie’s hypnosis session:

“A Chevelle.  It looks blue, ’70 model, I believe.  Looks like the front end of it has been messed up.  It’s in primer—the primer is grey…He’s not a big guy.  He’s about six-foot or 5’ 10”…He’s about medium build…Sort of a dark brown haired guy…”

In April 1983, Mr. Smart reiterated his earlier statements but elaborated on one detail involving an old model Chevelle. According to notes from that session, Reggie was driving on Eldred Street within a mile of the murder scene when he passed an old model Chevelle traveling at a high rate of speed.  The automobile turned up Pineburr Avenue [that runs east to west just south of Valdese]. As he glanced back through his rearview mirror, he averred that he saw a police car turn onto Pineburr  Avenue behind the Chevelle.  

Mr. Smart’s asseveration notwithstanding, Valdese Police later stated that the cruiser was not from their fleet, as did the Burke County Sheriff’s Department.  Two Valdese officers were working that early morning:  Harry Feimster, who was patrolling Main Street and Danny Barus, was on Church   Street on “the other side of town.”  

During Wednesday, April Fool’s Day, 1987, Reggie Smart was once again queried about the aforementioned detail.  Seven-years before his death, he remembered that the Blue Chevelle was driving: “…pretty fast and turned onto Pineburr Avenue. and the police car turning right behind the Chevelle; but, did not see the color of the police car nor does he know what kind of light was on the police car  (a long light like the sheriff’s department or a round light like the local police).  

Reggie Donald “Tut” Smart died on Friday April 15, 1994 [Find-a-Grave also lists his date-of-death as Wednesday March 23, 1994] in Burke County.  He is entombed at Catawba Memorial Park in Hickory.

Approximately five years subsequent to their daughter’s murder, the Hinsons decided that they could no longer tolerate the dearth of information trickling down to them from the Burke County Sheriff’s Department. Already, they had secured the services of sundry consultants to assist in the investigation, as previously reported. But in 1986/87, Bobby and Judy commenced to calling the principals who had been questioned by authorities and to qualifying rumors that they had heard across the years.  

With some degree of frequency, Bobby Hinson phoned SBI Special Agent John Suttle, in whom he had immense confidence at the time, to inquire as to the progress of his investigations into the death of his daughter.  And apparently, Mr. Suttle began to resent Bobby’s encroachment upon his time and questioning—as he perceived it—his ability to discharge his responsibilities. He said as much in a recorded conversation with a former law officer—heard by this writer over the weekend.

“…Bobby keeps calling me wanting to know what I am doing…I don’t know why I’ve been so nice to them because all they’re doing, every time they call me, is questioning my ability to do my job.  It’s getting to the point that I am getting tired of it…I am not far from telling them never to call me again at home.  If they do, I’m going to hang up on ‘em….It’s like they are portraying to me that I’m totally incompetent and need someone to call me every week to tell me what to do…”

[Editor’s Note:  Former SBI Special Agent John Suttle has been issued an invitation to comment upon remarks he made during a recorded conversation approximately five years after the killing of Rhonda Hinson.  To date, he has not chosen to do so.  If he should in the future, his comments will be reported as he articulates them.]

[itsworn]

Original, Low-Mileage Muscle Cars Certified at the 2018 Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals

The Vintage Certification program celebrated its 19th year at the 10th Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals in 2018. Wait, what? Steve Shauger, who serves as the administrator of the program, reminded us that it got its start at the GM Nationals in Carlisle in 1999 before moving to the inaugural MCACN show 10 years ago.

The Vintage Certification program at MCACN promotes preservation over restoration. As usual, there was a crop of fascinating and very well-preserved vehicles. “The team was quite impressed with the diversity,” says Shauger. “From a 1963 Z06 Corvette to a 1962 Impala to a Mercury Cougar, we had it all.”

While the unrestored cars were vastly different, the overall goal of their participation remained the same. Each was to be judged with a close eye on assembly-line condition and originality. “It’s not a beauty contest,” explains Shauger. “What we really want are cars that are virtually untouched.”

Each vehicle was inspected for several hours by a team of industry experts (13 in total this year), all with a keen eye towards seeing how much they had changed—or, preferably, not changed—since they left the factory. Each vehicle was given a score that corresponded to one of five levels of certification. Vintage Time Capsule is the most original, scoring 95 percent and above in all five reference areas (engine compartment, exterior body, interior body, underbody, and trunk). The remaining four levels are Legend (85 percent originality in all judged areas), Heritage (85 percent in four of the five areas), Legacy (85 percent in three of the five areas), and Reference (85 percent in any area).

“These special cars bring out a lot of information,” Shauger says. “The processes, factory finishes, and how they were assembled are things that all come to light and help provide key insight to the hobby.” Beyond being great references, each car packs a story and unique owner history.

If you have a car in original condition and are interested in having it take part in the Vintage Certification program at MCACN 2019 (November 23-24), learn more at vintagecertification.com.

1962 Impala SS—Legend Owner: Chris Piscitello Mileage: 19,329 Chris Piscitello is a self-proclaimed “409 nut,” having fallen in love with the model while riding around the Chicago suburbs in his dad’s white 1962 Chevy Bel Air. His dad bought the car from the local dealership, the legendary Nickey Chevrolet. “Going for rides with him was what really started my fascination with the ’62 Chevys,” he says, who loves the 409-equipped cars in particular. “They were the first muscle car, having a truck engine in a regular sedan.”

Piscitello is the third owner of this Honduras Maroon example, having purchased it just a month before the show. The car was sold new in New Jersey and stayed there until his ownership. It’s clear this classic wasn’t meant for mere cruising, with small details indicating it was destined for straight-line speed. “Windshield washers were an option but left off,” says Piscitello. “Whoever ordered it intended it to be raced on sunny days.”

It’s not mere speculation, as several first-place trophies from back in the day came with the car. “It’s like driving a rocket ship,” he says. “This is one of the most intact, unrestored, 409 convertibles in existence.”

1967 Chevy Chevelle SS L78—Heritage Owner: Jeff Helms Mileage: 57,695 This triple-black 1967 Chevy Chevelle was sold new at Nuzum-Cross Chevrolet in Newton, North Carolina, on July 21, 1967. It is just one of 612 equipped with an L78 396ci V-8. The original owner, Alexander Withers, loved it, as did his family, since it stayed with them up until July 2017, when they sold it to Jeff Helms. The car was also ordered with such things as a four-speed transmission, front and rear bumper guards, and deluxe seatbelts. All told, the car rang up at $3,491.04, with Withers trading in a 1966 Plymouth to complete the deal.

The car has racked up 57,695 miles, but despite the use, there was one item that stunned the judges when they looked underneath: a 100 percent complete and original exhaust system.

1969 Chevy Camaro Z28—Heritage Owner: Mike Wheatley Mileage: 31,426 Mike Wheatley’s Dusk Blue 1969 Camaro Z/28 was bought new from Ash Waller Chevrolet in Morrison, Illinois, by Wes Anderson. Anderson had just returned from his duties as a Marine helicopter pilot in Vietnam and considered the car a gift to himself. There was another cause for celebration: Anderson’s upcoming wedding.

“The military vet wanted the sportiest thing out there but passed on the Corvette because it didn’t have a back seat,” says Wheatley.

Anderson made the purchase on February 20, 1970. Being in his early 20s, he thoroughly enjoyed the hot ride, motoring to his new job at the Byron nuclear plant in Byron, Illinois. In December 1982, he decided to sell it, citing concerns over his son approaching driving age and the car’s “high performance nature.”

It was (and still is) a small world. The Camaro’s second owner worked at the same plant as Anderson, but he doesn’t recall ever seeing the car there. Instead, he found it in a local newspaper classified ad. He bought the car for $9,500, still bearing all original parts and paint and no modifications.

That’s just how Wheatley purchased it in March 2018, the only exception to its originality being the Goodyear tires that the second owner had installed in 1984. The car’s stellar, untouched condition garnered a score of more than 90 percent original condition from the judges.

The Camaro boasts some cool vintage stickers, including Anderson’s plant parking sticker. And no, it wasn’t glowing.

1969 Chevy Camaro RS/Z28—Legend Owner: Mark Bulaw Mileage: 49,036 When Tennessee resident Dean Gentry walked into Bill Gatton Chevrolet in Bristol in July 1969, he had his pick of two 1969 Camaro Z/28s. The young man used his budget, and his heart, to make the decision.

“The other car cost more than $4,000,” says Mark Bulaw, the Camaro’s current owner. “Dean was, and still is, a diehard University of Tennessee fan, so the orange and white campus colors were perfect.”

Like most Z/28 owners, Dean Gentry had a heavy right foot. He bolted on performance accessories like traction bars and a Hurst T-handle shifter. He racked up just over 49,000 miles before selling it to Bulaw.

“He was still driving it up to the last minute,” says Bulaw, who first saw the car in the spring of 2018 before purchasing it in October. “He had already put another 300 miles on it during those months. He just loved driving.”

Despite the use, the vehicle retains its originality, including never having had a brake job. “I’ve pulled the wheels, and you can still find thickness on the brake pads,” Bulaw points out. The shocks are original, and so is the trunk-mounted spare.

Another original touch (quite literally) are the “ghost” handprints on the underside of the hood. After the hood was painted at the Norwood factory, the assembly workers moved it to the car before the paint had fully dried, forever leaving their prints behind.

1969 Mercury Cougar XR7—Time Capsule Owner: Gary Riley Mileage: 6,466 This Medium Gold Metallic 1969 Mercury Cougar XR7 was bought by a guy who purchased the luxury coupe and a brand-new Ford truck, all on the same day. The transaction happened at Kumpf Lincoln-Mercury in Denver. The comfy big cat wasn’t cheap, ringing up at more than $5,000. And while cushy, it wasn’t enjoyed all that often. The culprit was a narrow driveway.

“The owner had a single-car garage and driveway,” explains Gary Riley, the Cougar’s current owner. “To drive it, he had to move the truck to the street and then, when he returned home, park the Cougar and put the truck back on the driveway.” It was too much of a hassle, so the Cougar sat often. That explains the ultralow odometer reading.

When the original owner passed in the 1980s, the Merc was handed down to his daughter. She longed to keep it, but lo and behold, a similar situation arose. She, too, had a single-car garage. As much as she wanted to keep dad’s ride covered, she finally grew tired of digging out her daily driver for snowy, winter duties.

A family friend bought it from her in 1988, and then in March of this year, they offered it to Riley. It was part of a package deal, coming with two other Cougars. “To get this one I had to buy all three,” he says.

It was worth the deal, as the judges were more than impressed with this car’s condition, especially the bare metal items. “The welds on the motor mounts look like they were made yesterday,” says Riley.

1969 Oldsmobile Hurst Olds—Heritage Owner: Guy Fillinger Mileage: 77,890 A mere 912 Hurst/Olds hardtops were made in 1969, and only 315 came with air conditioning. Surprisingly, Guy Fillinger has owned not one but two of the latter. He has his brother, Jeff, to thank for finding both.

Guy’s first Hurst/Olds came about in his junior year of high school in 1972. His brother came home excited to share that Ducas Oldsmobile, not far from the family home in Menomonee Falls, Wisconsin, had a used one in the showroom. Both boys loved Olds, thanks to their dad, Don, who was a parts manager for the brand at Krause Oldsmobile in nearby Milwaukee.

“I drove that car everywhere,” recalls Guy, who frequently took it to watch the drag races at Byron Dragway and Great Lakes Dragaway. He never raced it, at least officially. “With 3.23 gears and A/C, it wasn’t as quick as the cars with the 3.90s.”

That didn’t stop him from romping on the gas during some stoplight-to-stoplight action or cruising to his senior year of school.

After a few years of motoring bliss, he sold it to buy a pickup in 1977. Decades passed, but when Jeff tipped him off again in 2011 about another Hurst/Olds for sale, Guy had to have it. This example, made in the third week of May, was sold new at Biddulph Oldsmobile in Glendale, Arizona, on June 14, 1969. Given the hot, arid climate, it makes sense that the original owner, a Bob Thayer from Phoenix, wanted A/C.

The judges came away particularly impressed with the underside of the vehicle. “Bob must have stayed on paved roads for most of his driving,” says Guy. “There’s not one chip anywhere.”

1970 Chevy Chevelle LS6—Legend Owner: Brandon White Mileage: 30,798 Whoever ordered this 1970 Chevy Chevelle new had quite an usual request. They wanted the asphalt-pounding 454ci LS6, but paired it with a highway-friendly open 3.31 rearend. “Who would get a high-performance car like this and not check off the 4.10 Posi?” Brandon White asks with a laugh. He is the coupe’s current owner. A lifelong Chevelle enthusiast, he has owned it for two years.

Bill Davidson Chevrolet in Elkin, North Carolina, handled the order, and the three-owner car stayed in the state for most of its life. The interior was one of the cleanest the judges had ever seen, without any signs of fading, split seams, or burn marks. The tires were original, and two-thirds of the exhaust was, too.

The Desert Sand Chevelle was pretty well equipped, coming with additional components like an AM radio with a stereo eight-track player and the interior gauge package.

1970 Dodge Challenger RT-SE—Legacy Owner: David Goss Mileage: 18,968

Hogue & Hall Auto Outlet in Pauls Valley, Oklahoma, had high hopes for this 1970 Dodge Challenger RT-SE. It was ordered with every available option, from pedal dress-ups ($5.45) to dual rear speakers ($25.90) and color-keyed pushbutton seatbelt buckles (part of the Seat Belt Group, $13.75).

Whoever it was on the eager sales staff that placed the order couldn’t leave well enough alone, tinkering and toying with the final outcome. The chrome gas filler gas cap was deleted. And while the SE would have included leather seats, they were swapped for cloth and vinyl coverings. The final price tag rang up at $4,992.55 for the purple cruiser. While the dealership was anxious to see what kind of customer would spring for the cool decked-out machine, such a customer never came. The dealership went bankrupt shortly after receiving the car, sending the Challenger to a liquidation sale.

There, the Dodge caught the attention of Laverne Davis of Bethany, Oklahoma, who purchased it. “The car hadn’t been treated great,” explains David Goss, the Challenger’s current owner.

The mistreatment stopped once Davis got it home. For the most part, it was his wife who drove the car. The well-cared-for classic stayed with the family long enough for the couple’s son, Ken, to get some wheel time, too.

Ken and his wife, Patty, came to MCACN to see Dad’s car in person, the first time in years. He also shared some fond memories with Goss. “He took his driver’s license test in the car,” Goss tells us. “He also confessed that he and his buddies would sneak the car out, and on more than one occasion they rolled it silently out of the garage at late hours.”

1970 Plymouth Road Runner 440 Six Pack—Reference Owner: Dr. Eric Van Damia Mileage: 5,083 When Eric Van Damia came across a spotty online listing for a 1970 Plymouth Road Runner 440 Six Pack, there wasn’t much to go on, but he jumped anyway. The gamble paid off. The car had been sold new at Don Jordan Chrysler in Beechwood, Ohio, to an employee of Premier Automotive, a parts supplier in Cleveland that made interior plastic components for all of the Big Three automakers. “His niece told me he always had multiple cars at one time,” says Van Damia. Apparently, the Plymouth was personally delivered to his home, and he drove it for several years.

In 1974, it was parked in the man’s one-stall garage. When his health took a turn for the worse in 2016, it was moved down the block to his niece’s one-stall garage. That’s where it sat, surrounded by old freezers and covered in raccoon tracks and dirt, until Van Damia discovered it in April 2018.

“I knew it was special,” he recalls. “But it wasn’t until I got it home that I realized how special.” All kinds of original pieces were discovered, including the paper instructions on the visor on how to remove the key from the ignition lock and both broadcast sheets.

After a proper and much more thorough inspection of the B5 Bright Blue Metallic muscle car, the judges uncovered more. They found such things as 1969 and 1970 brackets for the front sway bar, and also the motor’s index card. The Road Runner graphic on the driver-side front fender is an oddity: “It looks like someone snapped his hair off and then put it on, but backwards,” says Van Damia.

With just 5,083 miles showing on the odometer, the judges attest this may be the lowest-mileage Road Runner on the planet.

The post Original, Low-Mileage Muscle Cars Certified at the 2018 Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

"Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

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Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

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Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

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Can a ticket in another state affect my insurance rates?

Registered my private car reg with DVLA but insurance companies can't find it?

I bought a private plate for my car and have registered it with DVLA and received my new tax disc. My new V5 arrived today but when going to change my car reg online with my insurance company .. they dont find my car reg and basically put a new quote through for my car and it increases my insurance premium. The company i am with is Quote Me Happy and is an online company i tried to run a new insurance quote through Go Compare and it doesnt find my car reg? What's going on and what can i do? I want to put my new private plate on as soon as possible ... :(

Cheap Motor insurance HELP PLEASE!?

I am 19yrs old and i need a renewel for my car insurance, any suggestions? i have tried... money supermarket confused aa any more? thanks""

Will My Parents Insurance go up?

I'm a g1 driver, got pulled over for speeding, got slapped with a few other tickets, was wondering will my parents insurance go up

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Car insurance ireland?

hi there does any 1 know of any insurance companys in southern ireland who specalise in people who have been banned for drink driving

Is it a good idea to get earthquake insurance?

I live in San Francisco, California and I wonder if it's worthwhile to buy earthquake insurance? DOes anyone has any experience what to consider, and why they made the decision they did?""

Charged with impaired and insurance (CANADA)?

I was charged with impaired driving when i was 21. I fought it in court and it did nothing but make me spend lots of money and drag things out even more. Now i am 24 and get my full license back at the end of this month. I have had my license for the last year but with the interlock ignition condition on it. Not being able to afford the ignition interlock i decided to not drive. I am seeking advice from a insurance broker or somebody who has been charged with impaired and has gone through this. ON average what do you think i will be paying for insurance? Do you have any suggestions to make? I have a feeling i wont be able to afford it and will still take public transportation but i am curious. Please only answer if you have dealt with this situation

I need help finding affordable health insurance for my family?

My husband has a job currently that offers health insurance for us, BCBS of NC great insurance but his job doesn't pay enough for us to survive now that we have a new baby. He is switching to a driving job that pays a little more so we can survive and pay some more bills, so we have decided to try to buy our own health insurance with this new job. Things are very tight with money with me being a stay at home mom to a new baby boy and a toddler so I need very affordable health insurance for my husband and myself. My kids are covered by medicaid so I do not need to buy it for them. I do not qualify for medicaid so I have to buy insurance for myself and my husband. Any suggestions of where to look? Any help would be greatly appreciated.""

California speedin and no proof of insurance ticket?

It was dark and raining. I just came off the bay bridge in SF and am positive I was driving below 40 on the bridge and between 40-60 when I got off the bridge. The cop was on 80E past fremont exit. He said I was at 67 in a 50 zone and also did not give me enough time to look for my proof of insurance. He said lets make this easy and quick and cited me for speeding and for no insurance and not no proof of insurance. He cited both as non-correctable. It this accurate? I don't think his radar reading isaccurate. How can I challenge this?

How much would insurance cost around for a 2002 ford explorer for a 16 year old?

please don't tell me it depends and such...i just want a range Thanks

Liability car insurance in California?

What happens if somebody fully insured rear-ends your car (they are at fault), and you only have liability insurance (no comprehensive or collision). Do you get your car repaired by the at fault insurance company or you lose?""

Insurance for Braces?

Does anyone have insurance for braces that they have used and can tell me about it? I really need braces but my regular insurance won't pay. :( Any help is appreciated! :)

How to find stolen life insurance benefits?

If someone were to submit a benefit disclaimer letter to a life insurance company with a forged signature (the beneficiary was never told of the policy). What would be the best advice (other than seeking an attorney) to find any and all life insurance company names at the time of the insureds death? Can I report a fraud claim with my state (Ohio) if I have physical proof? I can file a missing life insurance/annuity search request, but dont know if this will help me find any disclaimed benefits already stolen. I have a feeling life insurance companys would keep this quiet. I suppose I could cold call the life insurance companys that operate in my state and ask if they have my name on file.""

Changing Auto Insurance?

My 6 month insurance is up and its time for a renewal, recently i felt that my rates are to high and i would like to change to a different insurance company. But i have a couple of questions before i proceed and would like some suggestions. 1)How do i change my Auto insurance? Such as what are the normal processes one goes through. 2)Will cancelling my current account with them result in any extra charges? it is a renewal btw. 3)Should i get a quote from Geico first? (im trying to switch from Safeco to Geico) 4)Are there other Auto insurance companies i should consider? THANKS!""

Insurance company denies the damages?

my car has been involved in an rear end crash and the insurance company of the other party denies some of the damages , that are actually done because of the accident. the auto body shop gave me an estimate of 4 to 5 000 $ . my car doesnot cost that much . the insurance company is offering only 633 $ and disagrees with me to total the car . there was no damage prior to the accident made to the car on the rear end side. they argue that the other car that hit me does not have even a dent then how come my car have this much damages. i know that my car did not had n e damage on the rear before the accidednt. based on the automobile source they think that the actual cash value of the car is 1900 , and they have didcted all other damges , that are not because of an accident. please guide me what i should do in this case.""

Whats cheap cars to insure for a new driver?

Hi there im currently undertaking my lessons and instructor said I should pass before march time and just wondering what cars are cheap to ensure for new drivers and how much roughly are they a month and is there any way I can knock it down to make a bit cheaper? can you get finance cars for new drivers with insurance and tax free for 3 years?

PPO vs. HMO Insurance?

I am trying to understand pros vs cons of HMO vs PPO. We are a family of three (myself, spouse and newborn). We do not have much health issues. Premium difference is about $150 per month (i.e. HMO cheaper than PPO). But need to understand any limitations of HMO. Is it tough to find a PCP who takes HMO insurance? Or is it people with health complications usually opt for PPO as it is more flexible?""

What are the Best site for Comparing AUTO INSURANCE Quotes Online?

can anybody please shade some lite of reasonable car insurance quotes comparison sites?

Insurance on a car for first time driver?

Hi there, Im hoping to take my driving test very soon do I have started looking at second hand cars. I have typed a couple into comparison sites, but seem to be getting 2000+!! I was just wondering if you could give me a list of cars 1litre or 1.1litre that would be cheaper to insure. Im 27 and have 2children, if that makes any difference to insurance? Thankyou""

2006 Dodge Charger R/T insurance?

I'm 19 years old, and I am very interested into buying a 2006 Dodge Charger R/T. 5.7L V8. I'm a responsible driver with a flawless driving history and have taken (and passed) a driver's education course. The thing I'm concerned about though is the insurance for the vehicle. What makes a car (in itself) have high insurance? Is it based on the performance and power alone, or do other factors come into play such as the size and number of doors? Would a V8 Charger in particular have ridiculously high insurance compared to a more sporty car such as a V8 Mustang of the same year? Well, you probably understand what I'm trying to ask. Someone please enlighten me, thanks. I appreciate it =)""

My daughter and car insurance?

my daughter just got a car for my granddaughter is it illegal not to have my grand daughter listed on the insurance policy..she does'nt want them to know she is a new driver...we live in new jersey

""Were and how I can get car insurance in Europe for my american car, and how much is that( annually)?""

I would like to drive my car all over the Europe, but were I can obtail insurance ( green card ) for EU""

How much does my car insurance go up after speeding ticket? ?

How much does my car insurance go up after speeding ticket? ?

""Do You have To pay A Brokers Fee, When They Find U Car Insurance?""

I know some one who payed a huge brokers fee, when they found car insurance for her. Are all broker fee expensive. (finders fees).""

Does anyone know a carr insurance company that quotes and lets you print certificate?

i need a car insurance certificate for wed and my own insurance cant post one in time. does anyone know a web site that quotes and then lets you buy and print off a certificate? not swift cover as they wont insure my car as im only 24! thanks!!

Whats up with car insurance for teens?

So Im 17 and hoping to do my test by the end of this year. My dad has promised to buy me a car when I pass so out of curiosity I went online to check out how much car insurance was for the car im getting. To put simple, the cheapest quote I got was 6000. The car Im getting is less than a grand itself :o I even got quoted 12000 once :/ wtf?""

Should I go without health insurance for a year?

Next month I am about to go through open enrollment through my employer. This year health insurance was expensive. The took about $120 out of my pay check. To get more income next year, should I skip health insurance for at least one year.""

The insurance cost of a year 2012 Audi Q5 2.0?

The insurance cost of a year 2012 Audi Q5 2.0?

Cheapest car insurance for a young driver?

im 20..i own a car. no tickets and no accidents i have had my license for a yr and half where can i find the cheapest car insurance?

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

Montegut Louisiana Cheap car insurance quotes zip 70377

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/florida-insurance-license-login-william-baker/"

[fancycollectionfury-blog1]

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

"Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

BEST ANSWER:  Try this site where you can compare quotes: : http://freecarinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=tumblr 

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Car insurance in Texas?

My sister was in my car when she got re-ended. The driver of the other car took FULL responsibility for everything and wants to resolve this. I am wondering how this will affect my insurance? As of right now my car only has liability and needs to be repaired, big time. Any information especially from TX insurance agents would be greatly appreciated.""

Will my insurance company notify the DMV with proof of insurance?

I recently got my vehicle suspended because I haven't been using it or paying for insurance since the school break started, but now that school is starting up I have paid for insurance and paid the fee the DMV asked for, to get my vehicle back in. The DMV is still asking for proof of insurance, but won't my insurance company notify them? I have Progressive and I live in CA. Thanks!""

""Does your car ins really drop at 25, and how much?""

How much does it typically drop for a woman? If I pay 82 a month now, how much can I expect it will go down? I have nothing on my drivers record, no accidents or tickets, claims, ...show more""

Can an auto insurance company suspend my license?

I was hit by a woman in a parking lot. In Texas where I live, certain parking lots are no fault zones if they are private property. I was in one of these no fault zones. I was uninsured at the time. She had Uninsured Motorist Protection as part of her insurance policy. I suffered no damages to my vehicle or person. She suffered $1500 worth of vehicular damage. Her insurance company paid for her damages. I was backing out of a parking space and she came flying around the corner and messed up the entire passenger door of her car on my rear bumper. Like I said I received no damage to my vehicle since I was the one barely moving. She called the police immediately after this minor accident took place. I was not cited on the ticket I received for any accident, only for no insurance. The officer informed me verbally that the accident was my fault only because she had the right of way but that there was nothing they could do about it because of the no fault zone policy. Anyway, now her insurance company is coming after me to collect payment of the $1500 they paid for her damages. I have not agreed to pay this amount because it was a no fault zone and I don't feel I should pay for it. She should not have been going that fast in a busy parking lot with a car full of kids. Although the unofficial technicality states that I was at fault, legally no one was at fault. Her insurance company is also threatening to have my license suspended if I do not pay the amount specified. I did not think that they, as a private company, had the power to have that happen. I've never been in this situation before and need an answer as to whether or not the insurance company can do that or if its just some kind of scare tactic to jolt me into paying but really has no merit behind it. Someone please help!""

How much is approx. insurance costs for a 125cc road bike with 23 years L driver. Can any one plz ans me?

How much is approx. insurance costs for a 125cc road bike with 23 years L driver. Can any one plz ans me?

""If I buy auto insurance online from statefarm, how do i get my insurance card?""

Do I just print it out, or do they mail it to me? How long do I have to stay before I cancel without getting a cancellation fee? 6 months, a year? Is the final quote going to be the cost, or can they raise it immediately?""

Anybody got a guess for what it could cost to get insurance on a 95 mustang in ny?

Just tryin to see if anyone has a idea of the cost

Are automatic cars cheaper to insure for young drivers (UK)?

Are automatic cars cheaper to insure for young drivers (UK)?

How much is insurance?

how much is insurance for a 1978 corvette stingray?(i want to know how much it is and also if that price is low or not also if i got a older corvette would the insurance go down?) i am 16 but i have a 3.5 gpa im also a guy if that changes anything also my parents insurance is really low.

Does a ticket make ur car insurance go up?

ok so im not going in to details about how this happened but basically i got a ticket for driving on the wrong side of the road. will that make my car insurance go up? im 16 if that makes any difference to it...but some telll me it will and some tell me it wont help???

Cheap car insurance for 17?

what is the the most reliable and most cheapest insured car the cheepest i found was a renult clio at 5390 third party fire & theft with no road experience

Estimate how much car insurance would cost?

16 year old guy, with a 2001 Ford F250 Supercab, 160,000 miles. How much do you think insurance would cost per month?""

How much would it cost to add me as an occasional driver?

If I get a new car and its under my mom's name but I'm listed as an occasional driver wouldnt that be way less expensive than having my own insurance which would cost about $1500? I'd only be driving the car to and from school and occasionally out to the movies or something. So would that work?

Whats a cheap car insurance company i could try??! other than quinn any recomendations?

see above :)!

Car insurance ideas?

Im nearly 16 next year im 17 (obviously) this sounds pathetic but im going into the forces i realized when i come back from training i could afford a Jaguar XF but i need an idea about the insurance i want it as soon as im 17 i know im abit young but im careful and responsible so if anyone could tell me how much my insurance roughly would be ill be paying like 12k for the car.

Insurance on a 2005 premium mustang v6?

hello, my daughter is 17 years old and i am thinking about getting her a 2005 premium mustang v6. she is on the honor roll, hasn't had any problems or accidents as far as driving goes, and really doesn't drive much. we live in a rural area. how much would insurance cost? our insurance company offers some plan where if you're getting good grades, you get a discount. how much would it all be? i have her driving a 2012 volkswagen jetta now and it's very pricey.""

Auto insurance quotes in New Jersey?

Hi, where can I get auto insurance quotes for New Jersey area? I need to compare quotes online and hoping to save some money. Currently I think I'm paying way too much for it.""

Do i have to have car insurance to get my permit in portland oregon?

So im a 14 year old girl and i turn 15 in October on the 20th and i was wondering if i really need car insurance to get my permit cause my step mom told me i do and if i do i don't see why.

""I'm getting my permit soon, insurance?

Okay. I'm turning 15 soon and in Florida that means getting your permit. My dad said that he won't let me get my permit because he doesn't want to pay for my and my older brothers insurance. Since I really need my permit because my dad and stepmom aren't that sober and I want to get a job and a form of transportation between marching band and my house. He doesn't get that. So What I am asking is where could I get really affordable insurance but not skimp on the coverage. I would be paying for it myself. I also need to find a job. Uhg. I have a little over 2 months until I become of age. Any help would be most appreciated. Thanks!

Should I file a claim with my car insurance or pay out of pocket?

I am making payments on my car and currently have full coverage car insurance. About a week ago, I was driving my car on the freeway. It had been raining earlier that morning. A car beside me switched lanes in front of me suddenly. (She did not hit my car) but she caused me to loose control, my car hydroplaned spun out and hit the center divder on the freeway. No other cars hit me. My car has damage to the tire, rim and the right rear of my car from the back door to the bumper has scrathes and damage. I did not file a claim at first because the cost of my insurance is already $108 (because of a ticket) and I did not want it tod go up. But after paying to replace the tire, the rim and some other issues with the axile for $606....and the tow service which was $125; I'd like to know if any one has an idea of which would be more beneficial. Should I pay the $1000 deductible and have my car fixed through the insurance company, even though my monthly payments will increase? Or should I just continue the repairs out of pocket?""

Hu is the cheapest car insurance for dr10?

Hu is the cheapest car insurance for dr10?

Medical Insurance too expensive?

Currently I am paying $514.03, every WEEK to cover my family of four. Our employers do NOT cover a huge chunk of the costs. I am completely ignorant to this new Obamacare, but I am also starting to learn about it. The only thing I seen happen with Obamacare is yes my insurance got better and stronger (Open Network), but it also increased over $200 a week. I am not kidding it is about $2,064.00 a month. I can't afford to go to the Doctor and pay the Co-Pays because of my weekly payment!!!! It almost seems better for my husband to lose his job and we can collect welfare/medicaid! What is out there for us? Please don't tell me to shop around because I have and its very expensive. I can save $50 and some even increased over $100. Nothing in our medical history to cause expensive insurance either. What does Obamacare do for this situation? Who can I call to get some help?""

How much would the insurance be on a 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS for an 18 year old?

I need to know how much it would be for both the 454 and 396 model. *And my driving record is clean.

How can I get low cost medical insurance?

Hello, I am a single adult with no children, unfortunately I am still not able to afford health insurance, I have heard of medicaid or medicare, but I don't know how to apply for it. I need mental help, I suffer I believe from depression, but am not a doctor so I could be wrong, but still I need help. I am only 25 yrs. old, so if anyone has a suggestion or knows what I should do please let me know. If I have left out important details, email me and ask what you might need to know to hopefully be able to answer. I am very serious and do not need non serious answers, however I thank all of you who have helped in the past and continue to do so.""

Does the new Health care law say any thing about Dental and Vision insurance?

Does the new Health care law say any thing about Dental and Vision insurance? What does it say about those things Dental and vision? Is it going to make them cheaper and require them to cover more, like almost 100% of the bill for those services? When will this take affect? Will it require us to have them to? Will it give us more affordable options for Dental and Vision plans? What are they going to call affordable on those? I need a plan that will cover 100% of my Dental and Optical visits.""

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

What is the cheapest car insurance in st. louis for teens?

What is the cheapest car insurance in st. louis for teens?

Can any body tell me what is the lowest online car insurance company?

i have an old car and sometimes i use it but i think i pay too much to insure it $55 a month and it is just liablity insurance and i am looking for an online insurance company that can give me a very low rate

Why has my car insurance jumped up from 700 to 3000?

Two weeks ago I done some insurance quotes. I was shopping around and doing price comparison sites. I did quotes on a few different car makes and models but all cars were 1.2 or less. All quotes were comin up around 700 and 800 and 900 and up to about 1500. Now when I do quotes on 1.2 cars, or example an old 1994 ford fiesta and1.2 Peugeot kisser they are all coming up around 2000-3000 All my details are exactly the same ad two weeks ago. Literally exactly the same. Could it be the weather affecting the price? Surely not that much though?""

State Farm Life Insurance... 30 year term? Whole Life? Select Term? Universal?

What insurance should I get? I'm in my late 20's and I'd like to make sure that if anything were to happen to me that my husband and son are left with enough to continue to stay on their feet. The 30 year term is affordable, but the life expectancy of my great grandparents, grandparents and parents, across the board is at least over 65. I'm as healthy as an ox now, but I know that diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol run in my family. I'm very active so I have no signs of any disease related to heart disease. It's a fear that I've had since I was a kid and it's the main reason why I stay active. That being said, what should I get? I already have 2 cars and condo insurances through State Farm so I'd get something like 17% off my car insurance. I'm struggling to figure out which policy to choose. I need some insight.""

Need advice on good dental insurance plan in California.?

Hello, I am looking for good dental isurance policy for one person. I currently work as a temp, and dont have insurance. I was looking to spend around $30 a month, is this too low? I need something that is rather comprehensive. Thanks""

What is the cheapest insurance company?

What is the cheapest insurance company?

Car insurance question?

i am 18 years old and taking driving lessons.after i pass can i get insured for two weeks.if i can please give me websites.thanks

How to get cheap car insurance?

Hi guys, i really need your a good and effectivr advice about this, please if you know something that would help post it here! Im 20 year old, have a car Peugeot 206 1.1 litre - cheap market value (1000ish). I live in London. Since 17 years old im looking for insurance - unsuccessfully. The best quote i get is 4000ish. I have no criminal record, no accidents no claims - nothing! And im fed up with so many people driving at my age and I cant- i just dont understand why exactly mine is so bloody expensive! Ive tried every variation just to see what im missing - pass plus for example only helps to the extent of 100. Its just crazy - 3 years and i still cant drive - what the hell is wrong with this - home come everyone is showing off by how cheap insurance they have and i cant get anything? Whats the secret? Ive tried every combination - me as the main driver/named driver/owner/just user etc. cheapest is 4,000!! Whats wrong with me? Anybody knows whats the trick, how to solve this issue? Thanks!""

Is it legal to be declined health insurance for this reason?

I applied with a major insurance company in California, am a single vegetarian in my mid/late 30s no children, extremely healthy never been diagnosed with anything, exercise regularly. I guess they dug up that I had taken a fertility drug in the past - I was never even diagnosed as infertile - it's a really cheap common drug that stimulates your ovaries to produce more eggs but I had no partner to get pregnant with so to was just something I got from a fertility doctor if I wanted to get pregnant with donor sperm. That's not even covered by insurance if I ever want to do that again and the drug's like $20 you can practically get it over the counter it's so common I know tons of women who use it. I didn't even apply for maternity care to be included in my insurance, just a basic policy. Is it legal for them to decline me because of this? So if a woman has a baby they are no longer eligible for insurance? Most women who get pregnant take this drug (including both my sisters) yet they still have insurance. Was it legal for the pharmacy to give them this info? I don't know how else they found out.""

What is pay and go car insurance?

I'd like to drive my dads car for a couple of months through the summer until i go to university, it would be pointless getting a whole years policy as ill be gone in 3 months, i understand pay & go car insurance is one-monthly deals. Am i right? could anyone give me some more information ? Thank you""

How much do you pay for car insurance?

I pay $525/month. Reason? I like playing bumper cars with real cars. Everytime it goes down, pow right in the kisser, pow right in the kisser, pow right in the kisser, pow right in the kisser, pow right in the kisser, pow right in the kisser""

Would it be the cheapest sports car for a teen?

Yes I know insurance is not cheap for 16 year olds but I saw the 4 cheapest sports cars to insure I saw a pontiac solstic and a mazda mx5 would these 2 be the cheapest for me to drive then if there the cheapest sports cars to insure I will be 16 soon and I live in nebraska

How much would the nissan altima coupe's insurance cost per year?

Prescott Valley, AZ""

What is an average monthly insurance rate for a 16 year old driver?

I want to get ideas for what people pay. I want to know where I can get the cheapest insurance.

Insurance question for Louisiana residents?

Do you need to have insurance as soon as you get your drivers license, even if you dont own a car and are not currently driving?""

Age requirement for car and insurance?

Hey guys, I'm currently 16, and I'm wondering what's the age requirement to own a car, and also insure it with car insurance My parents are not going to get me car insurance, they made so many excuses, and because my salary is about 600 a month, working for only 1 day a week. I could accord a car by the end of this year. I don't see why my parents won't get me car insurance for my dads car. so i might as well buy my own car and see what their excuse is. Alright, back to the subject, im just wondering what's the age requirement to get a car under my name, and car insurance.""

Motorcycle insurance for 16 year old male price in ontario?

im looking to buy a 2001 Harley-Davidson sportster 883 for my first bike what am i looking to pay for insurance

Insurance question?

Well I'm under 18 and don't live with my parents. my job doesn't offer dental or health insurance. I need to go to an orthodontist to get a check up, and I may need some kind of retainer, braces etc because of jaw pains. Is there a way you can make payments without insurance? Or get some kind of plan? If I can't do anything until I'm 18 what kind of insurance should I get? thanks!""

Best car for a first time driver in terms of insurance etc?

Hi, My girlfriend is taking her test soon and if she should pass was wondering which would be the best car to get her in terms of cheap insurance? Is there any sites that list insurance by car model? And any other general first car advice is welcomed. We are in the UK by the way. Thanks guys!""

""What would be 15,000 pounds after tax and insurance for one month?""

What would be 15,000 pounds after tax and insurance for one month?""

Why is my car insurance expensive as the year go by?

i got the car in 2009, each year the car insurance keep rising by price.. it was 400, then 600, now its 800... but as the year go by the car is getting older, so why is an older car insurance more expensive? does this have anything to do with the fact that my car has leather seats?""

How much would i pay for car insurance?

How much would i pay for car Insurance for cheap car that cost me honda accord 2000,I am 28 Years old, never been in any accident,I got my license 8 years ago""

How much i should pay to cancel car insurance?

Hello, i bought car insurance in one of the most popular Northern Ireland car insurance company a month ago. I didn't have UK licenses yet, so the price was very high.The car was Citroen Saxo 1.1l. I sold it and i want to insure a new car but when i quote on that company then i get a very displeasing result and with my financial situation i wont be able to pay it. Other company would Give a look at my insurance details for a Citroen Saxo East Coast 1.1l Anual premium is  1512.40 Insurance Premium Tax @ 5.00 %  75.62 Home & roadside assistance and Legal expenses Insurance 25.00 Hughes Insurance Admin 15.00 Total Annual Cost 1628.02 Total amount payable is 1790.82 And the policy says If you want to cancel the Policy after the 14-day period you must send written notice and return your Certificate of Insurance to Hughes Insurance. We will apply a pro rata charge for the period we were on cover subject to a minimum premium of 25 (plus insurance premium tax). If there has been a claim paid during the current period of insurance or a claim is outstanding there will be no refund of premium. I have no claims, i only had this insurance for a month. And as non native english speaker i don't really get the idea how much should i pay for cancellation and what kind of consequence could bother me.""

What would the cost of insurance be for a 16 year old driving a 1994 3000GT Mitsubishi?

What would the cost of insurance be for a 16 year old driving a 1994 3000GT Mitsubishi?

""RX8 or BMW Z4, who has the highest insurance?

Does the 2004 RX8 (lol used for racing) have higher insurance than the 2004 BMW Z4?

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Is car insurance in America cheaper?

I have a Honda civic 2007 (nothing special) sedan and pay $280/month cause I live in Canada, clean record too""

Wheres the best place to get cheaper car insurance with unspent convictions?

i kind of pissed off a local copper by patronising him infront of his fellow officers causing them to laugh at him making him to feel a considerable amount of resent towards me which then later took its toll two weeks later and he pulled me over and ticketed me for 4 bald tyres which my vehicle was booked for at my garage to have them fitted the following weekend (sods law i know lol) anyhow took it on the chin and resulted gettin a 3 month ban for TT99 (means havin too many points) :'( now i have my licence back its a nightmare tryna get f***ing insurance anywhere, anyone know of any brokers specialising in that sort of thing? anyone know from first hand expirience? (if only id had Hindsight, the day i took the mick out of that copper) :@ Regards, Rub""

Question about car insurance?

okay so i was recently in an car accident and my car was a total loss. The accident is not my fault. I received my settlement check for my vehicle after paying my deductible for my insurance company. 2 months later now I received another check from the other insurance company at fault with an attached form stating that the check is for repairing the damages on my vehicle. Is this check safe for me to cash out? Not complaining of getting extra money, but Im just curious why would i get another check when i already got a whole settlement check from my insurance company. Shouldnt the other insurance be paying my insurance company instead? any help would be great.""

Would you buy rapture insurance?

If you believe in the rapture, would you purchase insurance to be paid out to your family members you have 'left behind'. I mean if you're the bread winner, and just 'vanish'. Who is going to pay the rent, who is going to buy the food. People carry life insurance, and have social security to help families, but I'm pretty sure they wouldn't cover 'rapture'... --not superstitious""

Where to get the best auto insurance rates in Midwest.?

Just moved to the Midwest, besides the insurance giants are there any other good insurance companies out there that will save me a little money?""

Can you recommend a really inexpensive but still decent car insurance company?

I'm a student on a budget in difficult economic times. I'm Looking for affordable auto insurance in Chicago.

What's a website that tells you the average insurance of a car?

Lets say for a Mustang GT? I'm think of getting one but don't know how much the insurance of one is. Thanks.

What would my insurance rate be?

I am a 16 year old girl, I have a 3.7 GPA, and a drivers ed class that I took. I am looking to buy a car, and I have my eyes on a yellow Chevrolet Monte Carlo. My insurance is with state farm. does anyone know any estimates on about how much my insurance will be? thanks :)""

How much would insurance be for a teenager with a 2005 mustang?

I am too young to apply online for a car insurance quote and don't really feel like asking my parents because they keep saying it's way to expensive. I would just like to know around what price would car insurance be for a mustang for a teenage girl. It would be helpful if I had $ amounts instead of way to expensive answers. Thank you :)

Can I stay on my parents auto insurance policy if I move out?

I am covered under my parents' insurance policy (Ontario), but am planning to move out on my own. I do not own a car but I want to maintain coverage so that I have a good rating when I do decide to get one, and for the rare time I borrow their car. Can I stay on their policy even though I live elsewhere?""

How much should i get for my car from insurance?

Before owning my car it was rear ended and received a reconstructed title. It is a 97 Honda Hatch Back. I'm curious as to how much value insurance will see as lost on the car due to the reconstructed title, though even though it was restored to near perfect condition. I was in stop and go traffic yesterday and the car behind me didn't realize all the cars had stopped, he hit me doing roughly 45, my car was pushed into another car and it's definitely totaled at this point. Is there a set percentage they deduct if you have a reconstructed title?""

Does anyone know how much car insurance is for a 16 year old female?

I am not sure if gender matters, but age most likely does.....I was thinking about getting my license soon...but I am not sure if my income is enough for insurace.""

Car insurance law in texas?

Hi. I have my own drivers license. But haven't driven in a long time. My parents want me to practice driving for a while so I can drive when I graduate. I was wondering if my ...show more

How can i get someones car insurance info if they wont give it to me? They wouldnt give it to the cops either.

The cops wouldnt let me speak with the other driver and he would not show them proof of insurance. His guardian said he had insurance but she would not give it to me. She wouldnt even give me her name. I have the license plate number but I cant find out who they are insured under. The police report stated that the other driver was at fault for the accident but the police say that they can't make them give upt hat information. I know that by law they have to give me that info. please help i have no idea how to get this information

Cheap car insurance florida?

Looking for cheap company for auto insurance in Florida?

Need cheap & affordable Health Insurance?

I have a friend, Yes a Friend, She and her husband are paying $160 a month for Health insurance & its, Medi-cal, Which is Welfare, So I told her that there has to be a GOOD Insurance out there that is cheaper, She needs help, Can she find anything thats better then $160 month.""

Is a '94 Integra considered a sports car ...?

Trying to figure out why my insurance is so damn high... Anyone else own early-mid 90's integra? Just curious, how's your gas mileage? How do you like these cars overall? This is my second car & still fairly new ... I totaled my first car in a bad accident within like 2-3 months. Thanks =)""

Should I get Term Life Insurance at a young age?

I am currently 30 years old and in excellent health but since I am getting ready to start a family, I want to be prepared for the future of my loved ones. After reading about different life insurance options, I am deciding to go with Term Life Insurance for 20 years. Is it true that Term Life Insurance premiums don't change throughout the life of the term? If so, shouldn't I sign-up now while my annual payment will be low and locked in at this rate? My employer offers a very small life insurance benefit that I am already a part of but I want more just in case. While I am asking, are there any circumstances where a payout won't be made if I were to die under a term life insurance plan? Is it guaranteed? What if I (God forbid) get Cancer or have a heart attack? Thanks in advance!""

Fend off bullying car insurance suit?

i was involved in a car accident. i was at the wheel and the insurance company that insures the car has placed me at fault. i am not the owner, but claim that i had permission from the owner to use the car and therefore, under california law, should not be liable for the damages. the owner is fully insured. i tried to settle this by paying for the deductable. shortly after i submitted a check to the owner he changed his statement to his insurance company and claimed that he in fact hadnt given me permission to use the vehicle (I have a scanned copy of the check with clearing information from my bank). i am now being threatened by two insurance companies: 1) the insurer of the other party involved (this claim is on me, the owner, and his insurer) & 2) the insurer of the car i was driving. what are my options? how can i attempt to prove that he did give me the necessary explicit or implicit permission to use his automobile?""

Do I have to have car insurance?

I use to own a car and had insurance I now sold the car and drive a company car 100% of the time. I called my insurance guy and told him to cancel it and he says that Illinois has a state law that says I have to have insurance on a car since I live at home with my parents and everyone in the house has a car. I could potentially get in to one of there cars and be uninsured. I told him I don't cuz I still a car with company insurance he said I have to have a policy with my name on it by law is this true?

Where to get the best price on event insurance?

Ive been throwing events for awhile now and just recently had a close call in damages to the property so i was wondering if anyone knew of something like a Event insurance company that covers Arizona events?

What is the best short term life insurance plan between monthly premium rupees 500 to 800?

What is the best short term life insurance plan between monthly premium rupees 500 to 800?

Do i have to remove a car i sold from my insurance?

i had 2 cars an old car and a new car, they were both insured under one policy with me and my son as the only drivers. now i sold the old car, and when i get a quote for removing my old car from my insurance policy it says that the insurance will increase about $70 every 6 months and that's because i loose the multiple car discount and also because i had my young son as driver only on the old car and removing it will force me to put him as a driver on the new car. i sold the car and i have a paper from the person that i sold it to indicating that they bought it. my question now is, would there be any risks by keeping the car on the policy, is it illegal? or if anything happens to the car, will they go after my insurance although i sold the car? *i already sent the release of liability to the DMV *i live in California any help would be appreciated 10 pts for best answer""

Car insurance question!?

Sorry of his sounds dumb, but I'm 15 and want to get a car. When a kid gets his or her liscense does the insure cost more or the same if they have their own car or not? Let's say kid a has a liscense but no car so she uses her parents car every once in a while. Kid b has her own car. Which insurance would cost more or would hey be the same? (just assume they both had he same exact car and grades)""

Where can I find information about a career in Insurance Sales ?

Where can I find information about a career in Insurance Sales ? Which of the three fields ( life, health, or property ) would be compatible with working from my home office ? How difficult is the California State exam to get licensed ? Is it possible to earn residual income in all 3 fields ? Thank you for your help.""

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Hello All. I need Affordable Dental insurance (NJ). Any recommendations?

Hello All. I need Affordable Dental insurance (NJ). Any recommendations?

""Car Insurance, Borrowing a friends car?""

So a friend of mine is letting me borrow his car for three months. now the problem is insurance. We dont know what to do. He has full coverage insurance with statefarm but said that he cant simply add my name to the insurance because if i get into an accident and get sued, his parents (who the car is registered too) will have to pay for the liability. what i'm confused about is if he has full coverage, and my name is under their insurance, wouldnt the insurance company pay for it and not his parents? His suggestion says that the only way i can borrow the car and cover all liability and contingencies is if he transfers (or 'sells') the car to my mom, so the car can be registered under MY parents name rather than his, so in the case of being sued, my parents would have to pay for the damages. what to do!?!? HELP!""

Health insurance from company?

how come my coworker pays only 20 bucks per paycheck for the health insurance, and i need to pay 50 bucks?""

Who has the cheapest car insurance in maryland?

Who has the cheapest car insurance in maryland?

I need to find and inexpensive health insurance can anyone help?

My husband has a rare blood disorder and is on Medicare through Social security and we don't have alot of money but because of his illness it cost alot for suppliment insurance. Does anyone know how we can get some extra insurance that won't kill us we already lost our home because we spent so much on insurance and most places won't even cover this. Please only serious reply.

CLASSIC MINI!!! How much does insurance cost for a 17 year old female?

About to buy a classic mini as my first car and wanted to know how much other peoples insurance has cost. Im female thanks

Who gives cheap car insurance for young drivers?

Who gives cheap car insurance for young drivers?

Does the new Health Care law mean we have to buy insurance like auto insurance?

If yes, what happens to people who can't afford to purchase insurance? Will they check somehow, like when you get your driver's license or fill out tax forms or what? If people don't have insurance because they can't afford it, will they figure out a way to fine you like they would if you didn't carry auto insurance? Thanks in advance for your help.""

How much would car insurance be for a 17 year old on a volkswagen golf 1.9 GTI?

like the min price?

Am a 16 year old boy and i want a mustang for my first car... gt or v6?

money is my concern... insurance? gas?

Can I Still Be Covered Under My Parents Car Insurance?

Im currently under my parents car insurance policy, I got married not too long ago and was wondering since I got married can I still be under their car insurance? Thanks""

The Car insurance company gave me a low estimate on repairs?

Long story short. Not my fault. I can not take this up with my insurance company because I don't have one. We got his info. My car has 140K miles on it. It's worth about 2K. It wouldn't be worth it to fix it. I decided to get the estimate and put the cash to another car. I have not signed anything yet. Insurance Company Quoted $1013.76 Auto Body Shop $1162.04 Ford Dealership $1284.90 271.14 difference. I asked to split the difference between the auto body shop and the Ford dealership. The Insurance compnay ofcourse said no. What should I do? If I had gone to an auto body repair shop of my choice with 1013.76 in hand they would have called the insurance compnay and asked for them to kick down more money. So I think it's fair that I get more cash. Don't even get me started on the medical. My health insurance is getting billed. Not the insurance company.

Cheapest car insurance? UK? For young drivers.?

What company or what car is the cheapest to insure? We are looking at buying a car, but since my hubby is only 20 the insurance is through the roof. (Can't seem to find a quote less that 2000) Any one got any ideas?""

DO I NEED SHIPPING INSURANCE?

I recently bought a packet of tea-light candles off of eBay and was wondering if I should purchase shipping insurance. I mean its candles do I really need it?

Insurance company messing me around!?

I had my car vandalised and have rang my insurance company. They said my car is written off although the paint and the back screen was only damaged. I was told my car value is only 800 and the excess is 600. Which i did not agree to, last week we came to an agreement of 1,100 for the car and 300 excess I rang yesterday to confirm that my cheque is on the way and they said 650. That they made a mistake about my excess is there anything I can do??? Im completely stuck. Ive been fully comp for the last 3 years and never claimed or never had an accident. But due to two ball less boys im stuck without a car and being pushed around like a doll. Please help!!!""

Which car insurance company allows you to make the cheapest one year payment?

I have esurance but they force you to make 2 payments a year,and the second payment AWAYS shows up at the worst time lol""

False Auto Insurance Claim Against A Friend?

A very close friend of mine received a call from his auto insurer yesterday regarding a 3rd party claim against him. According to the 3rd party, my friend hit their parked car (which was parked on the curb in front of their home), then parked his own car, went up to their house, rang their doorbell and exchanged insurance information. The 3rd party claims that this took place in a town that's more than 1 hour away from where we work and live. This allegedly happened 3 months ago. There are two major problems with this story: A- The alleged incident never happened. I carpool with my friend to and from work and was with him that night. B- The 3rd party has all of his insurance information. Could the insurance company have called the wrong person (i.e. gotten policy numbers mixed-up while processing the claim)? If not, how could a 3rd party have his insurance information? How common are fraudulent insurance claims (against another person)? And has anything similar happened to you or someone you know? My friend is a little worried because there is some minor damage to his rear bumper. We live in a major city and pretty much every 3rd car has nicks and scratches along the bumper from parking garage 'mysteries' and whatnot. Also, about 8 months ago, a young woman rear-ended us while we stationary, waiting to turn left at an intersection. Other than a scratch to his rear bumper caused by her license plate bolt, there was no cosmetic damage, and while we exchanged insurance information, my friend decided not to file a claim (she was very nice and didn't look as though she had a lot of money). I'd hate to think that it's her trying to commit fraud against him...""

How much should my insurance go up with a new car?

Right now I have a 1995 honda accord, I play about 90 a month, what should I expect to pay with a 2007 mazda 3?' Im 19, on insurance with my parents, no tickets or accidents. THANKS!""

Need alot of work done but no insurance any good dental insurance?

Iam self employed and need my wisdom teeth removed and also need braces but i have no insurance is there a good dental insurance out there so i dont have a huge debt?

Health insurance help?

usually, how much does it cost monthly for health insurance in california, marin county?""

How much is car insurance for a 16 year old?

I am a male and I will drive a 91 crx si . none of my parents have caused an accident.

Affordable Care Act?

My wife is 54 with diabetes (insulin) and high blood pressure. I care about my wife and want to act to buy her what i can afford which is up to 200 dollars a month. I can not fine an insurance company that will take her. What do i do when she won't qualify for medicaid either.

How much would insurance cost for a 16 year old?

I want to buy a 1 year old camaro but was wondering how much insurance would cost for a 16 year old male. I need an estimate for the cheapest insurance. Even if the liability is really small.

How much will my car insurance cost? (Teenager)?

I am 16 years of age, and will be in 11th grade as of the next school year. I had B Honor Roll the last two years of school. I will be most likely driving my mother's Nissan Quest (2013) or my father's Nissan Titan (I do not remember the year). I am currently enrolled in Driver's Ed, and will get my permit once I finished. I live in Jacksonville, Florida, if that is helpful. I need to know for a Driver's Ed assignment. I was supposed to ask my parents, but they don't know, and I know they will forget soon.""

""What is the ideal first car with cheap insurance and economical car with budget of 1,000 in the UK please?

- Must be a hatchback - 5 door- preferred - Cheap Insurance & road tax - Around 50 mpg - MUST be PAS - Economical- Not too big for engine size- 1.4L or below is ideal. - Not too old for shape- Ideal 1998 or onwards

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

Woodstown New Jersey Cheap car insurance quotes zip 8098

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/aaa-car-insurance-quote-phone-number-stephen-lynch/"

[qualitegraphiquegarantie-blog]

Cars And Truck Displays In The Mid Atlantic Region

Select number three is "The Roadway Warrior" directed by George Miller. The hero automobile is a '73 Ford Falcon Coupe. I think it edges out the very first film in the series, "Mad Max", as a better movie because the hero has less to state and is really over the top agro nuts! Mel needs to paint his face blue and shout his throat raw prior to he matches this level of aggression in character once again! In this sequel, the world has actually gone to the pets and there is method more vehicle action things to show how off the charts things have actually gotten. The majority of the discussion is Aussie so you truly do not understand much and who needs dialog in a vehicle film anyway.dumb. For this reason, considering that they are not voluntarily sold however seized by force, you would recognize that the owners do preserve them effectively. Not only so, you can frequently find top quality top of the variety sort of vehicles like Mercedes, BMW, Porsche and so on. Undoubtedly, a few of these owners must be living a luxurious life prior to the seizure. The automobiles are typically offered at unbelievably low costs, often as low as $100 or approximately 90% off their market prices. Numerous automobiles immediately race into your thoughts when you believe about cars for sale in el paso tx : Corvette, Camaro's from the late 60's through the 70's, Mustang, and, the AMC Javelin. A car lover could go on to mention the Battery charger and Challenger, Chevelle, and Gran Torino. Exactly what you have there is a list. The entire list of best muscle car goes on for miles. Those cars all have one thing in common.performance every year. To back that up, they all have excellent PR. Except for the Javelin. AMC never ever might find out the best ways to sell its automobiles. Everyone knows of the TELEVISION series and 2005 movie The Dukes of Hazzard starring the most infamous '69 Dodge Battery charger. This automobile, known as the General Lee is usually in contact with Luke's behind as it slides across the hood all set to leap in the cars and truck. You see, one miserable Sunday night, I discovered a "biz opportunity" on the internet. And I say unpleasant Sunday night, since back when I worked, EVERY Sunday was unpleasant - I 'd spend the entire day completely down about going back to my job on Monday. However anyhow, this brand-new company chance appeared like the very thing I wanted- lots of images of good-looking men leaning on Automobile Association in front of their exceptional houses. And more notably, they boasted tons of money. Quick. Muscle car efficiency can be accomplished in a great deal of different ways, and everyone defines high efficiency in a different way. My definition of high performance does begin with the engine. The method I see it; the engine needs to can making a minimum of one horsepower per cubic inch. So keep your objectives realistic and your danger low. That way you have a far better possibility of surviving for the long term and making stable money using these currency trading tips.

[theworstbob]

yellin’ at songs: week 32

brief reviews of the songs which debuted on the billboard hot 100 the weeks of 16 august 1997, 18 august 2007, and 19 august 2017

8.16.1997

6) "2 Become 1," by Spice Girls

This is just a '90s R&B song! This song doesn't even have the courtesy to be kitschy! This is completely indistinguishable from the rest of the '90s R&B, breathy whispered vocals about sex. There's no -- "Be a little bit wiser, baby/Put it on/Put it on" -- okay. OKAY. Sure. I guess that's something. If your song has no other value, might as well throw quality actionable advice in there. I hope the next song is some milquetoast R&B beat while people sing lines like "Your stomach takes a while to tell your brain it's full/Don't have that third slice of the ‘za, baby."

51) "All I Want," by 702

Oh hell yeah, I love this. I love that this is a Missy Elliott track, and I also love that this group did the titular song for Pootie Tang. I am way into this. This is a breezy summer jam that hits all the Good '90s R&B buttons.

54) "To Make You Feel My Love," by Billy Joel

this sounds exactly like you think it would sound and is as pleasant to listen to as you think it would be and i'm just gonna bounce after 30 seconds because i get it, i see what he's trying to do here and don't want to stick around to see if he pulls it off

55) "Big Bad Mama," by Foxy Brown ft./Dru Hill

I don't disagree with this! I can't find any way to hook onto this, but I already called one thing a breezy summer jam because I didn't feel like thinking too hard about it, so I'm in a bit of a predicament here. Like, this song is OK. It has a memorable bass line, Foxy Brown's pretty great at her thing, and whichever member of Dru Hill showed up sure did the most singing of anyone in 1997!, but like I can see why we've left this behind. It's fine. No one needed this one unearthed, though. We've found some buried treasures, y'know? This is like finding a buried booklet of commemorative state quarters. Like, neat! But also, not even $15.

83) "Far from Yours," by O.C. ft./Yvette Michele

"I be the Chosen One/Beyond the Moet and Cristal/A son of King and a Queen/Therefore ability/For song run in my genetics/I gave ideas to L. Ron Hubbard to write books on Dianetics" ...Setting aside the major issues I have with this man's rhyme schemes, IS HE TAKING CREDIT FOR SCIENTOLOGY. IS THI -- IS HE SAYING THAT HE IS THE INSPIRATION FOR SCIENTOLOGY. What the fuck kind of boast. He's saying his raps are so powerful they inspired a crazy man to write books about bad science. I am flummoxed by this song. This would have been just another okay song by a rapper who honestly just seems like a normal-ass dude who somehow wandered into a recoriding studio, but HE'S TAKING CREDIT FOR L. RON HUBBARD'S IDEAS. WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF LUNATIC IS THIS MAN.

89) "Tide Is High," by Angelina

Someone went to the store and said, "OH BOY! Another new verson of 'Tide Is High!' I gotta pick up this new interpretation of this song, which is of course someone's favorite song ever because it's MY favorite song ever!" Also none of the back-up dancers in the video looked like they were trying their absolute best. They knew where they were. They knew it didn't matter. They took a few plays off and got that check. I have so much respect for those backup dancers. ROCK TO THE BEAT ROCK ROCK TO THE BEAT, ROCK TO THE BEAT ROCK ROCK TO THE BEAT and so forth

92) "Relax & Party," by Ivory

So I've been sick the past couple days, which is why this post is going up on Wednesday and why there's no Thing Journal for last week (SUNDAY DOUBLE) and real talk why this has been a weak edition of YAS so far, ‘cuz I'll be honest, I'm still in the doldrums. My back hurts, which is a fun side effect of getting sick in your late 20s, I've found. So I'm not. In a mood? Conducive to caring about this song. I'm sure this is OK, but honestly, right now, in this moment in which we find ourselves, me and this song, sharing the same space on this planet, I could not care less about the things it wants to bring to my life. It's a stupid song and doesn't do anything. It just goes on for four minutes. Great. Great! Hey, just release an album of that fucking bass line for fifty minutes, honestly, it's probably your best bet if you want me to at least respect you.

95) "Dancehall Queen," by Beenie Man ft./Chevelle Franklyn

So there are two different versions of the song "Dancehall Queen" that I could find. There is this one, but there is also one released more recently with Lady Sovereign as the featured artist. So I have a few questions about our beautiful ever-expanding dying universe: 1) What did Chevelle Franklyn do to get deposed? 2) Does Chevelle FRanklyn give input into the decisions Lady Sovreign makes? 3) Who gave Beenie Man the powers of coronation? As far as I can tell, he does not proclaim himself the Dancehall King. 4) How often does the Dancehall Queen title change hands? 5) Is there a library that has data on the Dancehall Queen history which I can look up? 6) What are some books on the Dancehall Queen succession which you would recommend? Let me know in the comments! Hit that follow button and LIKE THIS POST!

8.18.2007

28) "Me Love," Sean Kingston

This is like a song you enjoy if you've never enjoyed a song before. If you're someone who appreciates music and attends symphonies and has opinions on concertos, and you're approached with this song, you'll probably use snooty music language to say, "This is a delightful confection!" Or like, if your musical diet consists entirely of Gary Jules' cover of Mad World and songs of that ilk, if the only songs you've been allowed to enjoy in this life are Gary Jules' "Mad World" cover and other songs which could have been selected for the Donnie Darko soundtrack, and you hear this song for the first time, this is probably the most amazing thing you've ever heard. This would sound so revolutionary. But if you've even heard one other fun pop song, you know this is useless.

89) "Free and Easy (Down the Road I Go)," Dierks Bentley

it is good when things are nice! at last, a song that says what none of us are brave to say out loud

90) "All My Friends Say," Luke Bryan

I think a couple months ago I tabbed this as a semi-iconic Luke Bryan song, in the sense that it's a song I hear and immediately attribute to Luke Bryan, which is something I can't do for any Blake Shelton song. But like, this is the song that establishes Luke Bryan's persona -- he's a free-wheelin' sumbitch who's gonna drink too much and try not to drunk-dial any ex-girls. There's personality in this song, a hack and shitty personality, but hey at least he hacked up and/or shitted out an identifiable character. All Blake Shelton's songs are about a man who wishes things would either be better or remain the same, depending on how good they presently are. The song is garbage and Luke Bryan only ever got worse, sure, but it is undeniably a product of Luke Bryan’s particular brand of dunderheaded twanging.

100) "Can U Believe," Robin Thicke

There is a long list of things I need to do with my life. Near the top are items like "only wear a suit at your little sister's wedding," "learn the lttp any% nmg speedrun," and "write a whole good thing," you know, standard stuff, standard life goals, and then there's a million pages of things I will never accomplish. Nowhere on that list was "listen to Robin Thicke tell you that I don't know when someone's watching." I did not need to hear Robin Thicke tell me he was stalking me before I died. I could have learned the Blind script with this time. Maybe this is about God? But it's not even vaguley Christian, he just randomly starts saying you never know when someone's watching, which is only something anyone says WHEN THEY ARE PRESENTLY LOOKING AT YOU THROUGH A TWO-WAY MIRROR. Been a decade of garbage with this man, my gosh.

8.19.2017

(38) "You Da Baddest," by Future ft./Nicki Minaj

Beach Future is such a weird thing to consider. I'm on the record as being pro-Beach Future in general, it's not as random a pivot as the time Lil Wayne picked up the electric guitar and said "OH YEAH! THIS IS A THING!" but it's still hard to get the brain around the idea of Beach Future after, what, three years and roughly 20 albums of morose, despondent Future? All of the Future songs I know are about the nightmare of being Famous and codeine, and now he's dropped two songs that are just, "Yeah, man, chillax! Life's pretty breezy, friends, pull up a chair, let's just enjoy a sunset together!" I'm into it? But it feels like the world is imbalanced right now. Beach Future has completely thrown off my equilibrium and I am Scared.

(68) "Unforgettable," by Thomas Rhett

Ah. Balance! After making a surprisingly hot '80s jam earlier this year, Thomas Rhett just sort of bleats over an acoustic guitar for two and a half bland minutes. This song tries to turn the word "mangorita" into a stirring kick-off to its chorus, and while I recognize the enormity of the task it placed upon itself, that doesn't mean it didn't fail to accomplish its goals. "From your blue jeans to your shoes/Girl, the night was just like you/Unforgettable." I'D NEVER SEEN JEANS JUST THAT BLUE BEFORE. I NEVER EVEN KNEW THEY MADE BLUE JEANS IN THAT PARTICULAR SHADE OF BLUE. WHY, THEY WERE... DARE I SAY? TURQUOISE! ALL HISTORY'S SCULPTORS DEVOTED THEIR LIVES TRYING TO MOLD YOU

(85) "When it Rains it Pours," by Luke Combs

A lot of the reason I don’t mind Rascal Flatts and Keith Urban when we run through 2007 is because, when I was growing up, my mom would only listen to country music, and those artists are the ones I minded the least when we were on the half-hour rides to and from church. I forged deep and lasting connections with the dudes I minded the least of anyone else. This song is definitely "best song on the ride to church" quality. It has a Toby Keith-y sense of humor which is more or less agreeable -- I can't imagine any scenario that a waitress at Hooters is impressed enough by any customer at Hooters to leave their number, but here I am, complaining that my suspension of disbelief in a country song was interrupted -- and it's unique, I haven't heard a lot of "fuck her, she's outta my hair!" songs from dude country artists this year. It’s not “I’m Gonna Miss Her,” but what is? Once again, Luke Combs has made a song that's unique enough that I can appreciate its charm, but not so intriguing that I'm gonna seek him out on my own. I'll give his next album a spin, see if he takes the right lessons to heart, but the one he’s got out now, I think I’m good!

(87) "They Don't Know," by Jason Aldean

"Just another field/Just another farm/No, it's the place we grew up on." Jason Aldean is a multi-millionaire who owns several hundred acres of land in a major metropolitan area nad has the chutzpah to speak for the common man. Fuck this dude and fuck him for this Trump-vote of a song.

(88) "Honest," by The Chainsmokers

hey guys the chainsmokers made a song about how they're sensitive boys who're sad about breakup, wow what a fascinating new look for these cats, truly evolving as artists before our very eyes. see, this is the one where they go "whoa-oh." i don't think they've gone "woah-oh" in a song yet. this is a pony certainly capable of developing a second trick!

(89) "The Weekend," by SZA

"What kind of deal is two days?/I need me at least 'bout for of 'em" is one of the single-saddest lyrics 2017 has produced. This song is so good. SZA in general is so good, but I never had to deal with how good this song is, given how much there is to parse with Ctrl. When's the last time we heard from a side piece's perspective, y'know? When's the last time we heard how a booty call felt about being a booty call? We heard "Booty Call," which was about the act of engaging in a booty call, but we don't know anything about the booty call's wants and desires outside of that moment. I enjoy hearing this perspective on the events, hearing from the girl the '90s R&B dude has to apologize for seeing, because that's a person, too, that's a person who's alive and lives a life of their own. It took us until 2017 to get the side piece's take on things. What were the rest of us doing?

(90) "New Rules," by Dua Lipa

This is really enjoyable. Nothing terribly complex, just a "don't fuck your ex" jam, but it's confidently delivered (I get the sense that Dua Lipa is a much better singer than the current musical trends are going to let her be), and I love the subtle horn drop. Evidently, the producer of this song was also involved with "Bad Liar" and "Now and Later," so I'm getting on the Ian Kirkpatrick train. I approve! Great work, all.

(93) "I Wish I Knew You," by The Revivalists

oh wow fuck everything about this. where did this come from? why am i listening to this? did 13 reasons why drop another season? who wanted this. who wanted another indie band biting the hell out of franz ferdinand. they're not even biting franz ferdinand, they're biting all those bands that were biting from franz ferdinand a few years ago, except they're doing so nakedly, "the revivalists" is code for "we have no original ideas." way to revive 2013, yeah dude, it was so long since i heard the neighbourhood, i'm so happy you're reviving four years ago. also this willy wonka-ass muthafucka's hat is stupid. i'm honestly not sure i'm reacting to the song as much as i am the stupid goddamn hat in the music video. (also: i'm not into this song, despite the presence of a saxophone. i have limits. i'm not gonna go home with just any brass instrument, you guys.) white men ruin everything.

(94) "Every Little Thing," by Carly Pearce

Well, number one, it's a country music song with actual drums, so it's automatically starting with 95 points out of a possible 100. This is dope. "They say time is the only healer/God, I hope that isn't right/'Cause right now I'd die to not remember." Fuck, man. That is heavy. And this is a solidly-produced song, too, there's enough going on that the song feels rich and lived-in, but not so much so that it's distracting, it's definitely in the backseat wearing a seatbelt so the lyrics and what might be the saddest fucking voice in 2017 country music can drive in peace. More from this woman, and more from other women, look how good you are when you let women do things, country music!

(97) "Learn to Let Go," by Kesha

I think this is fine. I'm not as into EDM-lite Kesha as I am Kesha declaring her womanhood backed by a million beautiful horns, but this is fine! Three songs. Three songs is enough distance to start delivering back-handed not-criticisms. But no, like, I wouldn't mind this as the opening track to the album, this sets a tone and opens up the possibility for cooler things to come, but on its own, hey! It's just alright, and that's fine! I'm just glad Kesha's making music, y'know?

(98) "All the Pretty Girls," by Kenny Chesney

this song wasn't even released in 2016, what is it doing here, what, why would, i don't, how did we end up here? what do we hope to accomplish while we're here? did he just say "don't blow my cover on freedom night?" what is freedom night? i don't -- you know what country radio, you batted .400 this week. that's ted williams hype, right there. .400 is better than any of us ever could have anticipated, and i can appreciate that you got things as right as you ever possibly could. please tell me what freedom night is, though.

(99) "For Her," by Chris Lane

...adjust that number down to .333. i'm sorry. i saw the haircut and assumed edm, which you'll agree is a fair assumption to make. this dude sucks. he is trying his best with that falsetto but, and i hate to repeat myself, you can't make your own outsized ambition an excuse for your failure. know your limits. i'm sorry i was ever lukewarm about any kesha song. i kinda feel bad for saying those things about the revivalists' hat. this was a good week apart from the bro country! "For her I would walk a straight line/Wear out the soles of my shoes for her." WOAH! SLOW DOWN, BUDDY! LET'S NOT MAKE ANY PROMISES WE CAN'T KEEP, NOW! Careful! Girls remember things you say to them! Imagine how disappointed she'll be when every day she spends with you your shoes still shine as bright as they did the day she met you.

Who won the week?

Well, 2007′s best song was a Luke Bryan joint, so that’s out. Think we gotta give it to 2017. Four shitty country songs, yeah, but 1997 countered with Spice Girls and a Billy Joel cover of a Bob Dylan song, so those cancel out, and the cream of 2017 was much better than the best 1997 gave us this week. I’m still thinking about that Carly Pearce joint, that was really cool, and it anchors an earned win for 2017. THE STANDINGS: 2017: 12 1997: 11 2007: 9 Next week: keep your heart, Three Stacks.

[itsworn]

MCACN 2017 Preview! Check Out These Muscle Car Heroes

In 1967, muscle cars had become mainstream. Drag racing was a favorite pastime in America, evidenced by the packed stands at local dragstrips. The rebellious generation of the 1960s blended muscle cars into their raucous lifestyle. The muscle cars introduced in 1967 could be characterized as fast but somewhat subdued. Stripes and scoops were beginning to blossom but wouldn’t reach full bloom until 1970.

One of the biggest movies of 1967 was Cool Hand Luke starring Paul Newman. Newman’s Luke Jackson, a nonconformist loner who fights against authority and an evil warden, becomes a rebel-hero among his fellow prisoners, quietly maintaining an unbreakable spirit with a smile. The subdued 1967 muscle cars with their high power levels and minimal exterior bravado are reminiscent of Newman’s subtle coolness. Blending simplicity of design with killer big-block performance, the G.T. 500, SS396, GTO, and GTX gathered here properly represent the persona of the 1967 crop of muscle car rebel-heroes.

The owners of the four feature cars are muscle car heroes in their own right. Bucking conventional wisdom, Colin Comer and Joel Nystrom regularly beat on machines—a G.T. 500 and Hemi GTX, respectively—that most would say are too valuable to drive. In memory of his father, Terry Weiner saved his dad’s rusty GTO and transformed it into a Best of Show winner. Bill Wente has spent the past 50 years building and drag-racing the SS396 that he bought in the fall of 1967. Four rebel-hero 1967 muscle cars in the hands of bona fide muscle car hero owners require closer examination.

If you want to take that examination into the real world, these cars will be featured in the Muscle Car Review Showcase at the Muscle Car and Corvette Nationals (MCACN), held November 17-18 at the Donald E. Stevens Convention center in Rosemont, Illinois, just minutes from Chicago’s O’Hare Airport. The show is by far the best muscle car show of the year and an absolute must for anyone who loves to see high-quality, rare muscle cars. Visit mcacn.com for more info about attending this year’s show.

Colin Comer, 1967 Shelby G.T. 500 Hero Status: Road Racer Who Drives His Shelbys

Colin Comer is no stranger to the muscle car community, especially to those who love Shelby products. He has written five outstanding books on Carroll Shelby and amassed a strong collection of Shelby American products. But unlike many collectors who stash their cars away, he is not afraid to put his machines through their paces. At Colin’s Classic Automobiles in Milwaukee, his cars are properly readied for high-performance driving.

The featured Brittany Blue 1967 Shelby G.T. 500, car No. 1797 for the Shelby faithful, perfectly exemplifies how Colin enjoys his automobiles. He found this two-owner G.T. 500 free of rust and other damage in Tucson.

The car was sold new to Don Kitchen in Tucson, who kept the car bone-stock until he traded it in on a new Toyota in 1976. The second owner, Randy Dalrymple, was working at the dealership where Kitchen traded in his G.T. 500. All the brouhaha over the oil crisis fueled panic in the used car manager, who instructed Randy, “Sell this thing to the first guy who wants it!”

Randy said, “How about me?”

Randy treasured the Shelby for 40 years. He made slight modifications without damaging the car’s pedigree, like installing Koni shocks, as used on earlier Shelbys, to tighten up the handling. In the early 1980s, he resprayed the car and put white Le Mans stripes on it. He also rebuilt the motor and removed the power-robbing factory transverse muffler to make a true dual exhaust system.

He drove his G.T. 500 to many Shelby meets up through the early 1990s, and then parked the car. Colin learned about Randy and his desire to sell 1797 the first week of January 2017. It not take long for Colin to pull the trigger on this Shelby since he had been on the hunt for one like it. He says this one couldn’t have been more perfect for him.

“I love Brittany Blue, and it is an original inboard-headlight four-speed car, which is as good as it gets. But the fact it was a two-owner Arizona car that never left Tucson and is amazingly original sealed the deal.”

Even though the car sat for all that time, “Randy had kept the gas tank and fuel system dry, and had a schedule where he would oil the cylinders and spin the motor regularly to keep it healthy and keep the valve springs from taking a set,” Colin says. “All he had to do was put in some fresh fuel and a battery to have it up and running.”

Upon arrival at Colin’s shop, the G.T. 500 was stripped and resprayed, sans the Le Mans stripes. All components, including the fuel, cooling, suspension, and braking systems, were serviced or rebuilt. A few tweaks were also implemented, such as the famous Shelby upper control arm drop developed to correct the front suspension geometry on the original 1965 G.T. 350s, as was a Trans-Am inspired lower crossmember that ties the lower control arm mounts together. He also installed a set of fat Pirelli P600s that carry a W speed rating (that’s 168 mph, Shelby fans). Not just drivable, the G.T. 500 was now flog-able.

“Most people would not be able to distinguish between the handling of a G.T. 350 and G.T. 500, especially when properly set up,” says Colin. “The big difference is the torque of the 428 engine. It pulls clean in just about any gear, significantly stronger than the small-block engine.”

When we photographed the Shelby, Colin had just returned from running it around the Indianapolis Motor Speedway during SAAC’s national convention. He mentioned it might also participate in the Copperstate 1000 Road Rally. It is one thing to have a cool muscle car, but to drive the wheels off of it? That’s a muscle car hero.

At a Glance 1967 Shelby G.T. 500 Owned by: Colin Comer Revived by: Colin’s Classic Automobiles, Milwaukee, WI Engine: 428ci/355hp V-8 Transmission: Top Loader 4-speed manual Rearend: 9-inch with 3.50 gears Interior: Black vinyl bucket seat Wheels: 15×6 Kelsey Hayes stamped steel with simulated mag hubcaps Tires: P235/60R15 Pirelli P600 Special Parts: Blueprinted original engine, long-tube headers

The 1967 Shelby G.T. 500 is a fantastic blend of aggressive looks, functional performance upgrades, and big horsepower to back up the image. The scoops just behind the doorjamb channel air to the rear brakes. The rear spoiler and full-width taillights complete the well-executed Shelby look.

The G.T. 500 is equipped with Ford’s 428ci Cobra Le Mans engine. The Shelby FE was rated at 355 hp at 5,400 rpm and 420 lb-ft of torque at 3,200 rpm. The motor featured 10.0:1 compression, a high-performance camshaft, two Holley 600-cfm carbs, and slick aluminum valve covers and air cleaner.

For 1967, Shelby American installed a roll bar with retractable shoulder harnesses as standard equipment in its G.T. 350 and G.T. 500 cars. The seats, carpet, belts, and dash pad are all original to Colin’s G.T. 500.

This particular Shelby G.T. 500 was built with the standard Kelsey Hayes high-strength steel wheels with standard hubcaps, and has retained them throughout its life. Those OE hubcaps were a strong draw for Colin.

Bill Wente, 1967 Chevelle SS396 Hero Status: Builder and Racer of His Street/Strip Chevelle Since 1967

In the fall of 1967, Bill Wente went looking for a Chevrolet muscle car with $2,300 in his pocket. The Waterloo, Iowa, resident had been inspired by a picture in Hot Rod magazine of an Aztec Bronze 1966 Chevelle SS396 doing a burnout. He eventually scored a 6,000-mile Bolero Red 1967 Chevelle SS396. It had the base 396/325hp motor, a Muncie M20 wide-ratio four-speed transmission, courtesy lights, an AM radio with rear speaker, and a rear antenna.

Bill’s SS396 is the quintessential day-two car. He bought speed equipment with the money he was earning as a technician at the local Chevrolet dealer, including Hooker headers, a Hurst shifter, a Sun tach, a Crower Monarch cam, an Edelbrock aluminum intake, and a Holley 3310 carburetor. He bought front coil spring spacers for proper stance, Air Lift bags for the rear coils, cheater slicks, and 4.88 gears. When the car was running right, he stepped up in 1969 and purchased a pair of 15×6 Cragar S/S front wheels.

Bill joined the Marines and served in Vietnam in 1970-1971. When he returned he was rehired by the Chevrolet dealer and went back to working on his Chevelle. He ordered a 427-inch L88 short-block and corresponding L88 cast-iron open-chamber heads. He says, “When I got the L88 in the car, in July 1971, it was probably one of the fastest cars in town. There were a number of 11-second street cars roaming the streets, but that L88 engine put it with the fastest cars in Waterloo.”

The L88 stayed in the Chevelle until July 1973, when Bill went in with a friend to go drag racing with a 1966 Chevelle. Bill sold the L88 motor to fund the Chevelle drag car, and his red SS was stored in his father’s garage. The drag racing partnership lasted until 1977, with Bill serving as mechanic and his buddy handling the driving.

That spring, Bill decided to put his red Chevelle back together. A friend knew about a 1969 L78 Nova with the original 396/375-horse motor, M21 transmission, and a 3.55 Posi rear. Bill bought it for $500(!), pulled the motor and trans from the car, and then sold the roller for $400. That motor and trans received a quick freshening and went into the 1967 Chevelle.

Sometime in the 1980s, Bill detuned the L78, replacing the cam with a hydraulic bumpstick and putting exhaust manifolds on it. “I had a friend do some paint work to fix some bumps and bruises, and it looked good,” Bill says, “but over time I came hate the car that way.”

The SS396 was dormant for the next 15 years, until Bill had a revelation: “I felt that the car had lost its identity. I realized that it was a hot rod and it needed to be a hot rod again. I got all my old parts out, and put the Hooker headers, Hurst shifter, Cragars, and chrome reverse rims back on the car. I installed a hydraulic roller cam that was close to L78 specs to retrieve the nasty idle that it used to have.” He also installed a Muncie Rock Crusher M22 four-speed he had kept since the 1970s.

“It went back to the way it was in the late 1960s and early ’70s, and that’s the way I intend to keep it.”

Most of us sold off our muscle cars too soon. Bill did not. He bought it almost new, built it, cruised it, raced it, rebuilt it, and kept it. For that reason, Bill Wente deserves muscle car hero status.

At a Glance 1967 Chevrolet Chevelle SS396 Owned by: Bill Wente, Waterloo, IA Restored by: Unrestored Engine: 396ci/375hp L78 V-8 Transmission: Muncie M22 4-speed manual Rearend: 12-bolt with 3.55 gears and Positraction Interior: Black vinyl bench seat Wheels: 15×6 Cragar front, 15×8 chrome reverse rear Tires: 185R15 Coker Classic front, 28.5x9x15 Towel City piecrust cheater slicks rear Special Parts: Sun tachometer, 1968 Lakewood bellhousing with SFI sticker, Schieffer clutch and pressure plate

Bill Wente was 17 years old when he purchased this 1967 Chevelle SS396 from the original owner in the fall of 1967.

The immaculate engine compartment plays host to the 1969-vintage 396 engine that has been rebuilt to L78 375hp specs with a hydraulic roller cam upgrade.

The interior is completely original except for the seat cover on the front bench. Bill added a tilt column and correct simulated-wood steering wheel that he purchased at a junkyard for $5. The Sun tachometer is slightly older than the car. The Hurst Competition Plus shifter controls the M22 transmission.

Thank you, Bill, for serving our country. Bill joined the Marines, as this March 1970 picture can attest, and served in Vietnam. At this point the car is already a hot rod, and would become even more so when Bill came home.

Terry Weiner, 1967 Pontiac GTO Hero Status: Restored Father’s Rusty GTO to Best of Show

Late in 1966, 14-year-old Terry Weiner accompanied his dad, Art, to the Peter Epstein Pontiac dealer in Skokie, Illinois. With salesman Gus Georgian, Art ordered the featured 1967 GTO.

Though Art had purchased in-stock Pontiacs from the dealership in the past, there were no Signet Gold/Black Cordova-top cars equipped with the factory eight-track tape player. As a lover of classical music, Art was intent on putting the right system in his new GTO. Since it would serve strictly as family transportation, only the basic 400ci, 335hp engine with the friendly Turbo 400 automatic transmission would be required.

Other options ordered that day included a pushbutton AM radio, a console, power steering, power brakes, a rear defogger, and a driver-side remote-control mirror. Terry proudly asserts that he certainly must have had input on the choice of color.

The GTO was built on December 12, 1966, second shift, and arrived later that month. Terry rode shotgun while his dad drove the new GTO home. From that point on, it was treated as a basic family car, one with good power and a nice exhaust note.

In 1970, Terry took over the GTO as his dad stepped up to a brand new GTO. However, tragedy struck later that year when Art passed away from heart trouble at 53. In 1971, Terry ordered a brand new Javelin/AMX that he still owns to this day. Since the Javelin/AMX was terrible in the snow, Terry used the 1967 GTO as his winter beater. It continued to serve as basic transportation until it began to show serious signs of decay in the late 1970s. That’s when Terry retired the GTO to storage.

Rust had taken its toll. The floors, trunk, fenders, tail panel, quarter-panels, and roof were damaged by years of street duty and winter driving. Yet in spite of the GTO’s poor condition, Terry was determined to restore the car one day in memory of his father.

The first attempt at restoring the GTO took place in the early 1980s. The restoration included a color change to Pontiac’s Regimental Red, a big mistake. The quality of the restoration was not up to Terry’s standards, and the red exterior quickly became onerous to him. A second, more extensive restoration was deemed necessary.

In late 2002, Terry handed the car over to Custom Classics in Island Lake, Illinois. The shop was tasked with extensive metal repair, application of the Signet Gold paint, and major assembly work. Frank Romano was responsible for taking the beautifully restored GTO and doing the major detail work that would win favor with highly knowledgeable GTOAA Nationals judges. The restoration and assembly included the addition of a few factory options, including the hood tach, Rally II wheels, electric clock, and custom seatbelts.

In the summer of 2010, the GTO won Best of Show at the GTOAA Nationals. In 2012, it won the Concours D’Elegance award at the Pontiac Oakland Club International Show.

Conventional wisdom says that a rusty car can never be restored to best-of-show quality. Terry not only demolished that myth but in the process paid great homage to his father. Restoring a rusty car to honor a loved one earns muscle car hero status all day long.

At a Glance 1967 Pontiac GTO Hardtop Owned by: Terry Weiner, Buffalo Grove, IL Restored by: Custom Classics, Island Lake, IL; Frank Romano detailing Engine: 400ci/335hp V-8 Transmission: TH400 3-speed automatic Rearend: 3.23 gears Interior: Black bucket seats Wheels: 14×7 Rally II Tires: F70-14 Firestone Wide Oval Super Sports Special Parts: Owner added OE hood tachometer, power antenna, custom seatbelts, electric clock, Rally II wheels

To remember that Terry Weiner’s GTO was once a rusted hulk and to see it today is a credit to all those involved in the restoration.

For 1967, the GTO’s 389ci engine was dropped in favor of a larger, 400ci V-8. All markings, clamps, brackets, and clips have been restored to factory condition. Frank Romano gets credit for the attention to detail paid in the restoration of the engine compartment.

The GTO interior features black bucket seats, a console, a simulated-wood dash, a Hurst Dual Gate shifter, an electric clock, and a rare factory eight-track tape player. Federal safety regulations resulted in a new energy-absorbing steering wheel, four-way flashers, and a padded instrument panel.

The 8,000-rpm hood tach was a dealer-installed option for the 1967 GTO. Terry located an original factory version and installed it during the restoration.

Joel Nystrom, 1967 Plymouth GTX Hemi Hero Status: Driving a 1-of-17 Hemi Car to Drag Week

There are a number of cool muscle cars in Joel Nystrom’s fleet, including a real 1967 Hemi GTX, a clone 1967 Hemi GTX that he races in F.A.S.T., a project 1967 RO23 Hemi car, and a 1967 4-4-2 that he has owned since the early 1980s. But clearly his 1967 GTX convertible is the rarest in his collection. The Hemi GTX convertible, 1 of 17 built, is about as good as it gets as far as 1966-1967 B-Body Hemi guys are concerned. To break it down a little further, of the 17 Belvedere GTX Hemi convertibles built for 1967, 10 of them came with the 727 TorqueFlite transmission. At that point the Hemi car is a legitimate 1-of-10 of an extremely attractive and desirable vintage. And it has power windows!

Joel’s Hemi GTX in the hands of some other collector might be preserved in an airtight bubble. Recognizing the questions that could be raised in light of the way he uses his rare GTX, Joel says, “I love these cars, and I appreciate the fact that this car is rare, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to drive it. Bottom line: It’s still a car and it’s meant to be driven. If something breaks it can be fixed.”

Joel purchased the drop-top Hemi car about four years ago through Moparts.com. As a well-informed connoisseur of the 1966-1967 B-Body Mopars, Joel knew the rare Hemi GTX convertibles did not surface often. With a deal struck over the phone, Joel flew to California and purchased the car. The body was right, the 40,000 miles on the odometer looked credible, and two buddies confirmed the status of this car as being known among the 1966-1967 B-Body guys. The car was an amazing find.

When asked why he took the rare Hemi GTX convertible on Drag Week in 2015 and 2016, Joel answered, “It was the only car running at the time.” Hopes of completing his 1931 Plymouth coupe had been dashed, so Joel decided to take the convertible and have some fun with the Drag Week crowd.

Joel was no stranger to drag racing. He has been a frequent participant in F.A.S.T. (Factory Appearing Stock Tire) drag racing for more than a decade. Muscle car track days and events have often been a part of Joel’s practice of driving his cars. Not content to sit around at car shows, he uses his cars the way they were intended. For that reason, Joel Nystrom is awarded big-time muscle car hero status.

At a Glance 1967 Belvedere GTX Convertible Owned by: Joel Nystrom, Buffalo, MN Restored by: Unrestored Engine: 426ci/425hp Hemi V-8 Transmission: 727 TorqueFlite 3-speed automatic Rearend: 8 3/4 with 3.23 gears and Sure Grip Interior: Black vinyl bucket seat Wheels: 14×7 Magnum Tires: F70-14 Goodyear Wide Tread redline

The GTX model comes with the handsome rear cove treatment and special exhaust tips. Joel Nystrom has been told that the car has slightly less than 50 percent of the original paint, which he recently verified with a high-tech paint gauge.

The base motor in the GTX was the four-barrel 440 rated at 375 hp. The only optional engine was the one found in Joel’s car, the 426 Hemi rated at 425 hp and 490 lb-ft of torque. A total of 737 GTXs got the Hemi engine; this one is believed to be the “born-with” engine for the car.

Comfort, simplicity, and genuine beauty mark the interiors of these 1966-1967 B-Body Mopars. Joel’s GTX features bucket seats, console, automatic transmission, power steering, and power windows.

Joel offered to do a burnout. Caught up in “it’s a 1 of 17 Hemi convertibles” thinking and fearing damage to such a rare car, I forgot about his years of competition in the F.A.S.T. racing series. When I asked if he could get enough smoke coming off the tires, in Cool Hand Luke fashion, Joel smiled and quietly answered, “I think I ought to be able to do that.”

The post MCACN 2017 Preview! Check Out These Muscle Car Heroes appeared first on Hot Rod Network.

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