#if you aren't 'fire' that keeps yourself warm and her in moments when its important

[zorkaya-moved]

you ever wonder about the truth of zarina? the winter, the ice elemental, the death in winter.  why she is lament? why the chains are so important? why she is isolation and loneliness at her core?  this art of hamel is the perfect representation of zarina’s core, her longing for love / warmth and her being chained away as a beast in beauty. as beautiful as she is, her touch bring death akin to morana. the solemn and sad look, the inability to reach the destined ending for she (post-metamorphosis) may not even reach that ending. 

[amyscascadingtabs]

don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you [chapter 2]

CHAPTER TWO: see me in hindsight, tangled up with you all night

excerpt below, read whole thing on ao3

Amy doesn't return to the office until after she's spent a good hour at home. First, she showers, washing off yesterday's old makeup and grime and letting the warm water run over her shoulders as she lets the sweet scent of raspberry shower gel replace the vague smell of old beer and sweat. Her back is sore; probably thanks to Jake's lumpy mattress, she thinks, and wonders for a second if she should add buy new mattress to the contract before deciding it’s far too much. That's relationship stuff, and that's point one of the contract; that's not what this is.

She blow-dries her hair and replaces her makeup, taking extra care to try and cover a pink mark that sits just a little too high on her chest before giving up and picking a different shirt instead. Then she fills the biggest coffee cup she has, eats a buttered slice of toast standing up, and feeds her pet fish before rushing back out the door.

She probably looks fresher than most days once she's done, but she's still worried Gina can sense something from her secretary desk as Amy walks in. She raises a brow in greeting like she's actually interested, which is rare in itself, and Amy can feel her eyes on her as she walks into her own office and closes the door behind her.

Amy starts regretting her decision as soon as she's opened a new document. What is she even supposed to name it? Friends with benefits contract is too obvious. FWB-C sounds like code for something. Sex agreement makes her sound like someone who’s read Fifty Shades Of Grey too many times (which really is just once). Jake and Amy is a wedding invitation, Rules too general. She puts her head in her hands, staring at the blinking line, and groans. Then she writes in Jake, looks at that for a moment, and adds stuff after. Not her proudest, but it'll have to do.

Amy’s relieved she doesn't have much work to do today, because she spends every free minute she can come across tweaking details on the document, adding and removing sections to suggest. When she's finally happy with the result, she saves it in a personal folder she can be sure no one’s ever going to open, and praises the office-gods for the fact that she has her own printer.

~

There’s a faint smell of artificial lemon in the air of Jake’s apartment as he welcomes her in, and the thought that he might have cleaned for her makes Amy blush. It seems unlike him, but the living room area does appear less cluttered to her than it did this morning, so maybe he isn’t totally incapable of it. She still doesn’t want to check his cabinets.

“You cleaned,” she says instead, nodding to the couch that looks almost neat now. “You expecting to get lucky tonight, or something?” Jake’s cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink, but then he shakes his head and points to her outfit. “You’re one to speak.”

All Amy’s done is put on a maroon floral blouse with lower cleavage than she’d ever do for work and put on a touch of pink lipstick, but he’s not completely wrong. She still chooses to ignore him. “I’ve got the contract. Should we do this, then?”

He offers her an orange soda, which she declines, but accepts a mug of Earl Grey tea from a package that seems to have remained unopened since before the brand last changed its design. A hot drink might calm her nerves, she hopes, but it ends up being quite the distracting experience to watch him make it for her. She tries to read through the contract one last time while searching for spelling errors she knows aren't there, her eyes keep being drawn to his hands as he holds the label of the teabag between his thumb and index finger, bobbing the bag a few times with focus once he's finished pouring the water into a New York Knicks mug. It's hard not to think about how those fingers felt dancing across her skin yesterday, massaging the sides of her breasts and holding on to her inner thighs, and it's harder not to imagine what they'd feel like another time –

“Tea,” he interrupts her thoughts by placing the mug in front of her. “Thought maybe you wanted a cup that didn’t say NYPD on it.”

“Well, you're right in that.” She brings it to her lips, almost burning her tongue and hoping he didn't see. “You want to read it on your own, or should I read it to you?”

Jake sits back in the massage chair closest to her, spreading his legs and putting his palms on them before shooting her that disarming smile again. “You read it.”

Amy swallows hard. “Okay. Section one: relationship status. This arrangement only works if we're both single. We’re not bringing more people into this.”

“What about an open relationship?”

“No. Still complicated. This is complicated enough with just us. If either of us gets in an actual relationship, it's over.”

Jake nods. “Cool. Next rule?”

“Section two: appropriate behavior. We're not dating,” she says, pointing first at herself and then at him with the ballpoint pen she brought from work. “So we can't behave like we're dating. Outside of our apartments, we're strictly friends. Or acquaintances. Honestly, it's weird we're even friends.”

“But you admitted we're friends.”

“Sure.” She takes another sip of the tea. “But that means no public flirting, no inappropriate comments, no like, commenting heart or fire emojis on Instagram pictures –”

“Are these rules for you or for me?” Jake winks. “I know my selfies are stunning, but I’m sure you can control yourself.”

“For both of us. Section three: we part in the morning. No exceptions. Staying overnight is okay, but once we wake up, we’re done.”

“What counts as morning in this scenario? I’m not going to have to get up at six a.m., am I?”

“Not unless you stay at my place when I have work.”

“I’ll remember not to do that, then.”

“Great. Section four – protection.”

“You have an entire section on that?” Jake looks like he’s trying not to laugh.

“It’s important!” She exclaims, feeling herself getting defensive. “I have an implant, so we’re safe from pregnancy, but it’s either condoms or you need to get checked.”

Jake nearly spits out some of his orange soda, coughing slightly. “You must be fun at parties.”

“I’m actually a nationally accredited and registered chaperone.”

“What is that?”

“Doesn’t matter. Are you going to do it or not?”

“Fine. You, then?”

“I will if you want me to.” Amy shrugs. “But I haven’t slept with anyone since my ex, so we should be good.”

Jake’s eyebrows fly up. “Really?”

“That so surprising to you?”

“A little? In the least jerk-ish way possible, you must get, well… offers.”

“People don’t flirt a whole lot with their lawyers,” she says, shifting in her chair and crossing her legs. “And it hasn’t been my focus. Are we good with the contract?”

“Actually, I want to add one more rule.”

“Yeah?”

Jake leans back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head and flexing his biceps through the green shirt with a smug grin. “You’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

Amy looks at him for a moment, trying to determine whether or not he’s joking, but he doesn’t waver, so she leans forward and draws a fifth section sign on the blank space left on the document. No developing feelings or this ends, she prints out in capital letters, signing her name on the allotted line.

“Won’t be a problem.”

Jake signs the contract, and Amy tries not to grimace at how messy his signature is as she places the document in a thin plastic folder, promising him a copy tomorrow.

“Cool,” Jake nods. He’s messing up his curls with his right hand again, the way she’s noticed he does when he’s trying to flirt. She wonders if it’s strategy or nerves. “So, are you doing anything else tonight, or...”

“What, contract signing’s got you all hot and bothered?”

“I mean, seeing you in full lawyer mode. It’s not, not hot.”

“Double negation?” Amy scrunches her nose. “Oh, you’re going to have to make that one up to me.”

“Maybe I will,” he says, and she needs only to notice the way his eyes darken to know that it’s on.

Amy can feel her legs still shaking a little as she hails a cab outside Jake's apartment just after, and she closes her eyes in the backseat and wonders how it's possible to feel this amazing, this satisfied from a cocktail of what she knows is mostly dopamine and oxytocin. It still makes her feel all giggly, like she can't stop smiling to herself.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket, and she picks it up to read a text from Jake.

Fucking hell that was SO GOOD.

Maybe this friends with benefits thing won't be so bad after all.

~

[shelby-love]

JAY HALSTEAD

#2 Alone.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warnings: soft angst but with a cute ending

Authors note: Here is the long awaited part two! Hopefully you'll enjoy it as much as you enjoyed the first one xx

PART // 1 //

~

"So...you're mad at him for leaving?" Gabby asks you. She had already knew that you were a bit mad before you even told her what happened.

But mad wasn't the word you would use.

"I'm not mad!" You fight back. "I'm... Disappointed."

Gabby stays quiet for a second.

"I need him right now." You huff and fix the wrinkled areas of your hospital gown. It's something you do whenever you're frustrated. Or even something remotely un-positive.

"I was shot two times Gabby!" For drastic measures you put up your two fingers in the air. "I don't care that I'm whining like a teenager. He was ready to flee the scene with me but he can't come to see me when I wake up from a 4 hour long surgery. Make it make sense goddammit!"

Your friend stays silent before nodding her head in defeat. She sees your point.

What Jay did was something a senior detective shouldn't have done. Ever. Leaving the scene instead of helping was every bit wrong in his Sargent's books and you're sure that he god an ear-full from Voight.

But not even Voight is that uncaring to prevent him from visiting you as some sort of a punishing method. Jay not coming is all him. No one made him tell Will to call him once you're awake and not visit.

"I'll let you rest." She announces quietly before giving you a quick hug. Quickly and quietly she retreats into the hall of the hospital, and soon leaving back to the firehouse to continue her shift.

You're alone in the hospital within the next 15 minutes. Your colleagues and friends scurry into their respective vehicles and drive off.

Every now and then Will swings by to keep you company but apart from that you're all on your own. You aren't updated about the case or anything for that matter.

You're pleasantly surprised when you see Burgess make her way towards you. She's dressed in civil but wears her badge proudly on the belt of her dark jeans. There's an air of importance and power around her that almost makes you feel proud that someone like her is paying you a visit. The proudness is overthrown by the love you have for your friend.

Therefore, you can't help the smile that breaks out and completely demolishes your grumpy and brooding facade.

"Thank God you're okay!" She exclaims, voice fill with relief and happiness. "Jay said you were fine but I just had to see for myself."

Your eyebrows furrow and a scowl makes its way to your face.

"Oh no, what's wrong?" Her big doe eyes round in surprise when she sees your face.

"What else did Jay say?" You ask her before you can stop yourself.

A sudden wave of realisation comes over her and she sighs. "Y/N he's beating himself up. He thinks it's his fault that you were shot."

"That doesn't give him the right to leave me when I need him the most!" Your outburst makes the monitor next to you spike up, almost enough to alert you attending doctor. "He left the crime scene to be there for me when I was knocked out and didn't know where I was but then decided to leave my side completely when I woke up in shock and pain from a 4 hour long surgery!"

It should've been reversed.

"He's blaming himself for it Y/N... He told us that he won't be able to look at you until he finds the ones that did this to you." She talks about it so easily that it almost makes sense. You're too high on meds and you were out for way too long to suddenly feel forgiving.

"Well maybe I didn't want that from him..." You clutch your hands together in a strong grip and let your gaze fall on them. "Maybe I just wanted him to be the first person I saw when I woke up. I needed him to be there for me. Do you know how freaked out I was when I woke up and didn't feel my leg?"

Kim shakes her head lightly. She doesn't know. She can only imagine how you felt at that moment.

"He doesn't have to send me apology flowers or chocolate...but the fact that he didn't even call me. It hurts Kim."

At your truthful confession she stands up and pulls you in for a hug. You got a lot of them today but somehow her's felt the most warm and welcoming. She silently told you a lot of things.

Kim Burgess managed to snatch a few more minutes with you before she was called back.

"Could that be them?" You ask hopefully. Sitting in the hospital injured wasn't bearable knowing that the ones who did this to you managed to run away.

Kim nodded. "Jay has a lead. I gotta go."

She excused herself and quickly slipped out of your hospital room. Soon after, one of the lovely nurses payed you a visit once again with some hardcore medication that knocked you right out into deep slumber.

***

After some time you manage to lift your heavy eyelids long enough to get used to the bright light above you. You manage to stretch your arm long enough to press the magic button that will call someone to your room.

Halfway to the magic button you hear rustling sounds of one's clothing. It's like someone's in the room with you.

Instantly your paranoia kicks in. "Who...who's there?"

Your line of vision is met with an all fimilar set of eyes. The eyes, the nose, the lips, the cheeks...they all belong to only one person in the world.

They belong to your boyfriend.

"Oh, it's you." You tell him, clearly showing zero interest in talking to him. The wish to sit up becomes too strong that you can't ignore it any longer. You prompt yourself on your elbows, feeling pain in your side pierce you like an arrow. The noise that comes out because of the pain doesn't go unnoticed by Jay who quickly stands up to help you.

"I got this." You tell him through gritted teeth. You're still mad and disappointed with your boyfriend.

"No you don't. Don't be so stubborn and let me help you." He shoots back at you and hurts your already injured pride.

"N-no! You don't get to act like a boyfriend now!" You slap his help away like the petty little thing you are. After this new round of meds and a little more time napping with their help, you feel a bit more willing to forgive him. Not that you will show him that. He needs to see what he did wrong.

You can see it in his face. He wants to groan and shoot you a look that will tell you to stop being stubborn but he can't. He knows what he did and he also knows that he needs to explain himself in order to earn your forgiveness.

"Why did you leave me?" You ask. It feels good to finally ask the question that's been sitting on your chest for so long. "I understand what your job is and I also know that I can't expect you to be with me 24/7 but... Call me when she wakes up? They gave me my phone back, Jay. You could've just called me to see if I'm alive."

The fact that he didn't even do that... Instead he told his brother to call him when his girlfriend wakes up. It made you angry.

"You bolted with me in the ambo... You left everything and everyone behind to come with me and when I woke up you weren't there." You feel wet moisture (also known as tears) surround your eyes to the point he and his dark bomber jacket become blurry.

Every feeling you have is highlighted. You gulp the little saliva that created in your dry mouth and ask, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I couldn't stand looking at you while you're hurt like this, knowing that it happened because I didn't protect you." Jay confesses, bringing his hands to his face. He looks like he didn't sleep at all. "The men who did this to you got away because I didn't stop them. You were shot because of me. Not once but twice."

His words sink in. Your boyfriend is a proud guy. He protects what's his (not that you're an object) and when he doesn't succeed in that it eats him alive. It's the worst thing that can happen to him.

As his girlfriend, he already feels guilty that you have to be alert every day while you two are together because of his job. He thinks that the least he can do is protect you at all costs while you're in his sight.

What you didn't know is that before you went in to bust open the bunker door your boyfriend did everything in his power to get you out of there. To stop you from even entering the place with Severide in the first place.

But he couldn't. Not when his girlfriend is a very well respected member of CFD's famous squad group. Removing you just because he wanted to make sure you were safe was like saying that you couldn't do your job well. And Jay wasn't going to go that far and lie about your capability to do your job. If he did that then you would never forgive him.

And he knew it.

"I needed to find them first. I couldn't just let them go and get the upper hand." He told you sincerely and even managed to grasp your hands in his. "I was worried sick about you Y/N. I couldn't show it because Voight was going to remove me from the case and I needed to be there when we found them."

You take in his confession and nod. You take your hand from his grasp to wipe a few tears away before placing it back down and squeezing tight.

"Did you arrest them?" You ask.

"I kneeled them on the ground and managed to shoot each one when the open fire started." He said proudly. His statement brought a smile to your face. You always liked when he was badass.

"If I forgive you," His eyes sparkle when he hears that making you fight back a bubble of laughter. "Do you promise to never ever ever do this again no matter what?"

If, God forbid, this happens again you want him to be there for you when you wake up. Not chasing bad guys around Chicago while you fight for your life at Med.

"I sincerely promise." He says, pulling your hands up to your face and giving each a kiss.

"Now... Apologise." You lean towards him, smirking like a devil. "And make it good."

MASTERLIST