#it's RAINING i went out for BRUNCH earlier and it's been a GOOD day so far

[the-girl-who-cried-wolf]

I wasn't planning on reblogging the other ask because I'm embarrassed about the drawing but then I read your tags and was like: woah...

I told you about that day, I recall I described it as: I woke up today and my heart was hungry for something more. And you're so right, you got it exactly right. First of all, that fic sounds amazing. I have been reading a lot of fanfiction too lately, due to shortage of free time, but it's also a way to satisfy the yearning and daydreaming which sounds sick but it's really true, and I wish it wasn't that bad.

"Like it's painful sometimes but it's the very thing that's keeping us alive" <- this here got me, because I haven't been able to put into words!

When I wake up with this intense feeling, I feel like maybe I should take a step back (from whatever it is that's feeding these emotions, making them thrive), but then I'd feel such ache, like I have to consume whatever it is that could make me feel something, to relax, to stop this feeling from being so intense. It's a loop. I am literally so tired of it but I also love feeling it? I could curse it a thousand times but lowkey wait for the emotions to hit.

I don't know this is embarrassing for me and maybe I am delusional. [Stoned at the nail salon kinda feeling].

Have a great night/day, full of insanity 🫶

yeah i understand that! fanfic really is one of those niche things that just Helps So Much, even if it can almost become... can i say addictive? that's the only word coming to mind rn. like there's nothing else that quite fills that hole inside your heart, right? apart from music, maybe. (that's how it feels for me anyway.)

I've been trying to make more time for other hobbies and creative outlets lately, mainly drawing and painting, to try and focus more on creating things rather than just consuming fic after fic but there's so many good fics out there! i want to read them all!

and don't worry mais, i'm also delusional. i get it <3

(also i found the fic i was quoting! this one; a marvel fic from yelena's pov. i would recommend any and every fic by this author if your interested in marvel fics! i've been slowly reading my way through their ao3 page and i love all them so muchhhhh.)

[annieintheaair]

In a way, I'm glad that my guilt keeps fallin' on me like rain. At the same time, I can't help but wonderin' why I put your love on the line.

I can’t believe that it has been two whole years. Two years without Dan feels like a lifetime. So much has happened since he has been gone.

I woke up yesterday morning in Tulsa with a song in my head but the lyrics were a little off and I kept hearing, “it has been a couple of years since someone has been gone.” I knew that day was coming and I thought about it often but then the day arrived, and I almost forgot but subconsciously, I didn’t because that song was in my head.

Whenever I feel really sad and miss Dan the most, I send him a message on Facebook. I know he’ll never respond but something about it is therapeutic for me. The other night, I had a dream. I can’t remember all of the details but that Dan was replying to my Facebook messages. He told me that he’s always here, never gone, and wants me to be happy. After having gone to the medium earlier this summer, even though no dead people spoke to me through her, I believe that those we’ve lost actually do come in our dreams. When we see them there, it is actually them. Especially after my dream in January, I really do think that Dan visits me in my dreams to remind me that he’s still here with me.

I was in my pool on Saturday with my neighbors and Marx when a bee landed on my arm and stung me. It hurt like hell and still does now that it’s swollen. After it happened, I wondered if it was Dan coming back to get my attention and remind me. I remember being at the pool a few days after he died and having fun when I ran home to get a margarita. Garty called me and told me the news and I went back to the pool, stone-faced, trying to keep it all together. Marx snuck up on me and pushed me in the pool and in that moment I completely lost it. Something about Garty’s news didn’t feel real until that moment.

I knew it then and know it even more now that the world would never be the same without Dan. Our college, JWU, posted online the other day about renovations at Snowden dining hall, where we met nearly 17 years ago. Part of me thought that sounded nice but another part of me was a little sad about it because that place would never be the same again and it was another reminder that everything changes.

I've been busy flying nearly every night but trying hard to fit in time for friends, too. Saturday morning I was able to catch up with Julie for brunch and we checked out Jam + Toast, which was super busy but worth it because it was really good.

Sunday I felt like I needed to stay busy all day. I drove home from work, showered, got ready, and ran out to go to church. I was home for a brief time after and then went out to lunch at MiCocina. When I got home, I changed into my swimsuit and went straight to the pool. It was empty so I was able to play music and relax and then Eric came over to hang out with me. We stayed in the pool until I had to get ready for yoga. I was overly relaxed at yoga and clearly super tired so I think I may have fallen asleep a few times.

I had less than an hour when I got home from yoga. I finished my leftovers from lunch for dinner, got ready, and worked more on assembling a cabinet for my half bath. I guess I was so distracted and rushed that I pulled out of my driveway and realized I had forgotten my scarf and had to turn around and go back home. I thought for sure I would be late for work since the bus drove away without me even though I ran towards it I made it just in time.

Work wasn't bad but I wasn't in a super chatty mood. My friends Catherine and Antoinette were working in the back and a guy named Tim was up front with me. I found it interesting that his name was Tim since earlier in the day I texted Dan's friend, Tim, as we always do on the anniversary of Dan's death. It's always hard because I feel like I have no one to talk to about Dan anymore and I constantly feel judged for never being able to move past it and accept that he's gone. It seems like the only person who really gets it is Tim and I'm thankful that I at least have that relationship with his friend where we can support each other through the most difficult day of the year.

I went to therapy this morning and Diara gave me more homework. We talked about a lot of things and made some connections between current situations and past experiences. I have a lot of trouble with being a people-pleaser and it's hard for me sometimes to not care what other people think. I made that mistake with Dan and it's something I have to live with forever. I never want to make that mistake again because I'm worried about everyone else's opinions. Diara told me she couldn't make my decisions for me, obviously, but that didn't stop me from trying to read her face to guess what she would decide for me if she could.

The thing is, I know what I deserve and what I shouldn't tolerate, and in my strongest moments, I know that I can be strong and protect those boundaries. I keep thinking about what I posted on Facebook in March and I knew then that someone who loves you should fight for you, not with you. Someone who loves you should hear you out and communicate with you. There's a song I've been listening to lately, called I Do by Andy Grammar and Maddie & Tae, and in the song they say:

Even when I don't love you I do, I do, I do, I do You don't make it easy to But I do, I do, I do, I do And we give and we take And we fight, but we find a way to stay Even when I don't love you I do

The song is a good reminder that love is a choice you make every day. Even when times are rough and you're fighting, you stay if you love someone because even when you don't like them, you still love them; that's what love is. I know I deserve a love like that, where someone stays regardless of everything. I deserve to be with someone who is going to put in all of the effort because it's not 50/50 but 100/100.

Anyway, my landlord came over this morning to put up some cabinet hardware for me and we set up the garage door opener. I hoped to see my niece for her 7th birthday today but I was so tired that I stayed home and fell asleep on my couch for the afternoon. I am so glad to be off work and home tonight! Five nights in a row was rough.

xoxo

Annie

[taylorgraymoore]

November 22, 2023

Writing on the SkyTrain after work again—that seems to be a good time for me. The end of a day, I’m slightly exhausted, I can review things and I’m too spent to get distracted by much. I put in earbuds and here I go.

Of course, I’m also too spent to do much more than a stream-of-consciousness ramble. Pros and cons.

I am drained. Retail work at a busy and chaotic store is a miserable way to spend a life, even with good benefits. People get sucked into it, often enough become what are called lifers. I am afraid enough of that happening to me in some form or another. I’m working to become a product consultant (PC), which is a nicer job within the same context: work with the high end products, run the tasting bar, talk to customers, I’d get to go to tastings, no more extremely early mornings or extremely late nights—but, especially if I stay at Brighouse, it’s another form of the same. Lifer. Something drains out, slowly, that’s already happening, until one day I retire and I looked back and see life already happened without me. That’s the human condition for most of us, I realize, and I don’t think I’m entitled to get out of it anymore than anyone else. And I do have good benefits: dental and paid vacation, so what am I complaining about? 

But still. Not the best way to spend a life. It takes over, and there’s no content to it.

I write, and that is my way of tearing a hole in it and slipping out for a bit. As often as I can. 

That’s what it’s become. It’s better than most things I could be using to accomplish that end—although I do drink a bit, I admit, an occupational hazard. 

Both occupations. 

Met a friend for brunch this morning, walked down to Aphrodite’s Cafe on 4th through the dying rain. I was worried the rain would be harder, but this is Vancouver and here a morning’s rain often enough done before the day has time to get going. So I wasn’t too worried. I don’t mind walks after a rain: the air feels so fresh. Good way to start a day. None of that pressure of all of that that I was kvetching about above with me, just the fresh air and the neighbourhood and twenty minutes of my feet on the pavement. 

See, this is why I should write these earlier in the day—they’d be a lot more of that and a lot less misery. That would be a touch pleasanter to read.

There are two Aphrodite’s, kitty-corner from one another. One’s a pie shop, one’s a full restaurant with brunch and everything, and we went into the wrong one first—I’d only ever been in the pie shop. And for Ken (should I be using fake names for this? I’ll change some), it was just that the pie shop was what was on the side of the street he exited the bus on. So, we went over to the other side. Brunch Aphrodite’s was cozy. We sat down, ordered egg dishes and caffeinated drinks (as one does), talked about quantum physics and Carl Jung. Projects we’re working on. It was good. Ken’s a guy I know a little, through another friend, that I’d like to see more of. Good company. 

Notably, he’s the first person to understand a project I’m working on, one of many incomplete jumbles I’ve got. He articulated it better than I ever have. What was it? “Lola is a symbol. Whereas a semiotic sign signifies something, a symbol signifies itself. Its meaning is ineffable.” Roughly that. Jungian language. Lola is is the abstract locus of human fanaticism. I would explain more, but it’s late. Another time. Anyway, I was pleased we found a way to put it. 

This sounds an awful lot like a diary entry. That’s about all I can muster after a shift like this, typing on my phone for the thirteen minutes I’m on the train. Hopefully I’ve jazzed it up in editing a bit. (Because here I am, two hours later finishing a tequila and soda, attempting to jazz it up.)

There’s a new PC (product consultant) being trained at our store starting today. He’s not staying at our store—he works in North Burnaby, usually. I got to interact with him a little as we passed each other in the store. He was full of energy, as a parent would say. Got to do a wine tasting near the end of the shift, because our on-duty product consultant was giving him one and I happened to be standing nearby. I hadn’t had any of what was there and, because I work as a PC now and then, I need to know how wines taste. It’s also one of the better parts of the job—and, yes, I do spit it out. 

The Burnabian was quite slow. He took notes as he went. He would never keep up at a formal tasting—but he’s new. 

The train is nearly at my stop, and I’ll stop then. 

I passed by the SPCA thrift store on Broadway after brunch, to pick up gloves and a warm hat for my trip to Montreal. The air there gets so cold that it hurts my hands—so it wouldn’t do to pick something up after I arrive. Found out after the fact that I didn’t need to buy new anything—there’s a drawer full—but that’s fine. Something refreshing about having gone to do it, picked them out. Part of why this was, really, a good day.

[pettyvxbes]

COLSON BAKER x READER - OCEAN EYES IV

BRIAN, JIMI, JANIS, KURT, AND. . .COLSON?

"Can we get two 16oz house drips, one black with two sugars and the other with two sugars and a splash of cream?" He ordered, remembering exactly how you took your coffee, even after all the time you'd been separated. It made you smile, knowing that you still occupied some space in his mind.

"So this is your coffee shop?" You asked, leaning against the side of the counter as you waited for your drinks.

"Yeah, I opened it last year. It turned out pretty cool." He smiled as he looked around the room. You could tell he was proud of it.

"It's badass" You agreed with him.

"If you're hungry, we serve brunch." Colson handed you a menu to peruse. "This is actually why I was at the farmers market. All of our fruits and vegetables are local." You looked over the list of food, noticing all of the fresh ingredients.

"That's so cool. Everything sounds delicious." You said, flipping the menu over to continue exploring. On the opposite side, you found a cocktail menu. Some of the drink names made you chuckle. There was 'the gunner,' 'sex, dope, and cheap thrills,' 'screw me' with its counterpart, 'screw you,' and the 'you know I'm no good.' Without even seeing the ingredients, you immediately thought that the last one sounded like a drink you'd choose.

Colson exchanged the menu in your hands with a coffee cup filled with hot coffee. You looked at him and gave him a weak thank you smile which he inadvertently returned, and just like that, you were taken back to the first morning you had ever spent together.

You woke up randomly as the sun was shining through the tiny window of your dorm room. You were still wearing the same clothes from the night before. It confused you because you hadn't even remembered falling asleep. The last thing you could recollect was laying with Colson in your XL twin bed, which he noted multiple times was fantastic because his tall, lanky ass fit perfectly.

"Good morning," Colson whispered. It took you a moment to fully wake up, but you noticed how your bodies were intertwined when you did. Your head was on his chest, and his arm was holding you close to him. It was cozy.

"Good morning." You repeated, squeezing him and nuzzling your face into his neck. "How long have you been awake?" You asked sleepily, afraid that you were the only one who had dozed off.

You and Colson had agreed to stay up as long as you could talking to each other. After all, it was the first time you had seen each other since Atlanta, and even though you had basically talked every day for the last 3 months, you still had a lot to talk about.

"Not long, maybe like fifteen.. . twenty minutes" He shrugged. "I didn't want to wake you. I just wanted to lay here and hold you a little longer, watch you sleep, smell your hair." He squeezed you, placing a small kiss on the top of your head. "I wanted to memorize all of it because this weekend will be over before we know it, and then It'll be back to facetime calls and falling asleep on the phone."

"Blahhh, don't remind me." You pouted, sitting up to face him. You enjoyed every single second you got to spend with that blue-eyed boy in your bed, and you never wanted it to end. He had quickly become your best friend, your person.

"Sorry. Y'know, you're fucking cute when you're sleepy" Colson smiled at you, no makeup and hair a mess. To him, you were perfection. "Oh, I ordered coffee." He said excitedly as he sat up, reaching for the cups on the table next to your bed. "Remind me to thank your roommate later. She was not very happy when she was woken up by the Doordash driver." He chuckled.

"She'll get over it" You took the warm cup from him, sipping slowly. Careful not to burn your mouth. You immediately spit the coffee back into the cup, scrunching your nose up at the taste. The coffee was sweeter than a glazed chocolate donut filled with thousands of tiny sprinkles. You thoroughly enjoyed coffee, and you liked to be able to taste the flavor in every sip.

"Shit, did I get it wrong?" He asked worriedly. It was one of the topics you had discussed last night, and he had already forgotten.

"Yeah, but we've never had coffee together, so I'll give you a free pass." You joked. "Two sugars and a splash of cream," you reminded him with a small smile.

"I swear I will never forget again." He promised, passing you his coffee to share.

"Let's sit back here" Colson's voice pulled you from your memory. As you followed him to the back of the coffee shop, you noticed photos of different famous musicians on each table.

"What's with the pictures?" You asked, gesturing towards a table with Kurt Cobains' face on it.

"They're all a part of the 27 club." He could tell by the expression on your face that you had no idea what that meant. "a bunch of artists and entertainers that died at the age of 27." Colson explained.

"Oh." you gasped, finally understanding the name of his coffee shop.

Colson led you to a table in the back corner. It was secluded enough to offer a little privacy from the rest of the customers. You took a seat, instantly noticing the photo that was on your table. It was him. Your narrowed eyes and knitted brows caught his attention, and he followed your gaze to determine the look of confusion on your face.

"You're 31." You stated the obvious.

"Yes, but most days I feel like my life ended when I was 27." He let out a small chuckle.

You took a sip of your coffee, waiting for Colson to elaborate further. Quickly getting distracted by the liquid in your cup. When the coffee first hit your tongue, you could taste a combination of floral and fruity notes, but as you swallowed, you noticed a nutty caramel tone. It was unique and unlike any other coffee, you had ever tried.

"Mmm," You hummed quietly, approving of the noteworthy java in your hand. "You remembered how I like my coffee." You said without thinking.

You regretted it almost instantly. You didn't want to discuss your past relationship or talk to Colson like old friends. You just wanted the explanation you deserved so you could be on your way. It wasn't necessary to spend any more time with him than need be. You didn't want to conjure up old feelings any more than you already had by being in this stupid city.

"I said I would never forget, didn't I?" He looked at you like you made the whole world spin, and for a moment, it was like time stood still.

"God. I'm so stupid." His words came out as a whisper as he looked away from you. Shame and guilt wallpapered his face. "I made the biggest mistake of my life by losing you, and it's something I'm never going to forgive myself for."

"Why'd you leave Colson?" You were blunt, and your words were shaky.

"Because y/n, you deserved better." He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "I was laying there with you in my arms that morning thinking to myself, 'how can I possibly love this amazing woman the way she deserves to be loved when I don't even like who I am."

The sadness in his voice was evident, and you could clearly see the pain in his glossy blue eyes. He hurt himself just as much as he had hurt you.

"I was the biggest fuck up on the planet. You sacrificed your happiness to be with me, to support my dreams, and be my biggest fan. . .I was selfish, and I took you for granted. I broke your heart, and somehow you still managed to see the best in me. It wasn't fair to you. -- Y/n, I had to go because I knew that staying would have been even more painful for you. I was a sinking ship that was burning, and I couldn't bear to be the reason you went down in flames too." A silent tear slid down his cheek.

You sat there speechless as you listened to the explanation you had waited years to hear. You hadn't even realized it, but at some point, you had started tearing up too. Colson reached over, wiping the tears from your face.

"I hate myself for fucking things up with you." He said, staring at you.

You didn't know what it was about him, but when you looked into those blue eyes, you saw a reflection of your soul staring back at you. He was your person, always had been, and always would be. You and Colson had a once-in-a-lifetime connection. The kind of connection that made you feel alive by just being near him, even the silence between you, was comfortable because you felt complete in each other's presence.

"You are worth so much more than second thoughts and maybes'. I am so sorry y/n" You could feel the emotion in Colson's words. His apology was like rain on a dehydrated garden. Grossly overdue, but miraculously just in time.

You sat in silence for a few moments before speaking. "Earlier, when you said you lost your life at 27, what did you mean?" You questioned.

"Y'know, everyone thought I was overreacting after our breakup. . ." He started. You had no idea where he was going with his response, but you let him continue." what they didn't get was how much of my life you really were. . .You were more than just another relationship down the drain. You were my past, my present, and my future. Y/n, you were my life."

At that moment, you understood why his photo sat on a table in that coffee shop. He was a part of the 27 club, not because he physically perished at 27, but because that was when he lost the only thing that ever made him feel alive, you.

TAG LIST @canyoubuymetoast @ticketstomydaydreams @mvrylee

[aiorevelations]

A Name, Not a Number: Part 8!

It’s double feature Monday! (At least this Monday. Lol) Hope you all enjoy! @btv-grace @theannecordeliashirley

Chapter 8: Gathering Clouds

Three months before:

Milena stared down at her father’s coffin in the ground, tears streaming down her cheeks and holding a handkerchief to her mouth as she struggled to hold back her sobs. She stood there frozen, completely enveloped in grief, almost unaware of the people gathered to mourn Norvan and the commital service being delivered by the pastor. Lorenzo’s arm was around her as he tried to give her whatever comfort he could provide, wishing he could do anything to take away just a fraction of the pain she was experiencing. 

The afternoon sky was cloudy overhead and as time passed the clouds darkened, threatening to rain. The service ended and Norvan’s friends and acquaintances came over to Milena to offer their condolences. Milena could make out their lips moving yet couldn’t discern their words as she was still caught in a daze. Soon everyone had left the cemetery leaving Milena and Lorenzo alone by Norvan’s grave. Milena walked closer to the grave pit and knelt along the edge.

“Oh Daddy. I really wish you were here with me right now” she sobbed. “Why? Why did you have to leave me too.” She lowered her head and wept. Lorenzo knelt down beside her and wrapped her in his arms. Milena held onto his arm and leaned her head on his chest. They stayed there for a moment and then she loosened her grip on Lorenzo. She sniffed, “Thank you, Loren. If you don’t mind I’d like to be alone, just for a minute to say goodbye.” 

“Of course. You can have as much time as you need Lena. I’ll be waiting by the car.”

Milena nodded her head. Lorenzo stood up and began walking to the car. She gently wiped her tears and stood up from the ground. She took a deep breath and spoke. “You taught me a lot Daddy...we had wonderful memories that I’ll treasure forever. Thank you for believing in me and for being by my side. No matter what you could always make me feel better” she sniffed and looked away to the side at the rose bushes in the distance. “Roses. I remember when you told me how they were Mom’s favorite flower and how every Friday you would give her a bouquet of red roses. Out of all them, she loved red the most since they represented love.” Her voice quivered and she took another breath to steady herself. “And you...you taught me what all the colors represented just like she taught you. Yellow for joy. Pink for admiration. Orange for desire. Burgundy for beauty within. Green for peace. Lavender for enchantment...peach for appreciation. Blue for the impossible…” she wept. “And your favorite...white.” She looked down at the single white rose she was clutching to her heart. “You said you loved it because it stood for innocence and eternal loyalty and love. And that’s all you wanted for me…” she sniffed. “But you never told me that it also stood for the beauty and frailty of life...death.” She wiped her eyes again “And now I’m trying to accept that you’re not here anymore...and I don’t if can or if I’ll ever will. What I do know is that I’ll never forget your love or how you made me feel. I love you...Goodbye Daddy.”

Milena brought the rose to her lips and kissed it. She then dropped it over the grave pit and it landed softly on top of the mahogany coffin. Milena took one last glance at her father’s final resting place and then walked away. Her thoughts drifted over the overwhelming events and images of the last week. The sight of her father’s lifeless and burned body lying on a metal table in the morgue was constantly etched in her mind. Try as she might to get that nightmarish sight out of her mind she couldn’t forget it. Her hours were filled with nothing but pure sadness and anger. She couldn’t imagine who would murder her father but she was determined someway, somehow to find out who was behind it. In all of this, she was grateful to have Lorenzo by her side. He was her only sense of comfort in her darkest moment, her only support. It shouldn’t be that way. Liana should be here with me burying our father. Instead, I’m here carrying this burden alone.

Milena reached Lorenzo who was holding open the rear right passenger door for her. She entered the car and he shut the door. He climbed in the other back passenger seat and their chauffeur started off for the Blagueur-Ohanyan estate. 

About a hundred feet or so behind where Milena’s car had been parked a woman stood behind a tree watching the Aston Martin speed off in the distance. Once the car was out of view the woman quickly walked up to Norvan’s grave and removed her sunglasses. “Well, it’s been a while. Can’t say I’m surprised this is your fate. You always did find a way to hurt and betray those closest to you. Especially me.” She cried. “Everything you put me through. How you never saw me for me. How you constantly belittled me. How you blamed me for mom’s death. How you abused me both physically and emotionally” her voice rose with every passing second. “How you saw me as nothing! That I could take!” she screamed. “But when you—“ she sobbed. “When you took the one joy in my life. That I couldn’t take! That I could never forgive.” She looked down at her feet “And I’m sorry it had to be this way but you left me with no other choice.” Liana put her sunglasses back on and left her father’s grave. Seeing her Dad’s resting place had given her a sense of finality. In a way, it captured her past and her future. For better or for worse there was no going back now.

 …..

Present-day

After the rally had ended Jason and Tasha began walking back to the entrance of the Izmirlian Square. All around them they were surrounded by throngs of people, most of them discussing and agreeing with Tarek’s words.

 “That definitely was enlightening. I didn’t realize that Dalmar had so many followers,” Jason remarked, his mind still focused on the scene he and Tasha had witnessed just minutes earlier.

“Neither did I. The files we read described the KLF more or less as a small radical faction, not a well-known, large, and extremely organized political party” Tasha sighed.

 “I can see why you always make it a priority to go ‘sightseeing’ on these trips.” 

 “You can never be too prepared in this line of work” Tasha replied as she spotted a young boy, no older than twelve, handing out flyers for Dalmar’s upcoming meeting by a stone fountain near the middle of the plaza.

 “Come to the Bulin Meeting hall tonight at 8 o’clock. Come to hear the truth. No longer silenced, freedom for Krudia!” he shouted. The boy spotted Tasha coming towards him. “Hello ma’am would you like a flyer?” he asked.

 “Yes, I would.”

 He handed her a flyer “Here you are. Have a nice day.”

 “Thank you. You too” Tasha responded as she walked back to Jason.

 “Collecting more evidence.”

 “You can never have enough.” Tasha held out the flyer in front of her and Jason. “By the looks of this pamphlet, Dalmar presents himself as a benevolent and understanding candidate. A man of the people. Unbelievable” she rolled her eyes as she stuffed the paper in her purse.

 “It definitely doesn’t help that a good deal of the population believes this crap,” Jason muttered.

 “No, it certainly doesn’t.”

 “Well, I don’t know about you but I’m starving, so how about the two of us grab some brunch at The Ledbury. Assuming it actually exits. It does exist right?”

 “It does. But what happened to that room service you were so keen on earlier” Tasha teased.

 “I’m sure the kitchen staff could use a break, what with all the people staying at the hotel,” 

 “Mmm-hmm.” Tasha gave a teasing smirk.

 “Oh come on you know you want to.”

 “All right. I’ll have brunch with you at The Ledbury.”

 “Okay, great” Jason replied.

 “But you’re picking up the tab” she coyly smiled.

 Jason lightly chuckled,  “You drive a hard bargain.”

 “Why make it easy,” Tasha responded.

 “Okay, okay you win. I surrender.” Jason playfully responded as he put his hands in the air, causing Tasha to laugh.

 The two of them walked to the street corner. Once there Jason signaled a cab and they headed for The Ledbury. Almost ten minutes passed and the cab pulled in front of the restaurant. The exterior of The Ledbury was covered in exposed brick and dotted with large glass windows. The window frames and entrance door were made of black iron. Parts of the exterior brick were covered with passion vines that hung from trellises. Tasha and Jason exited the cab and walked into the restaurant. They were greeted by a maître d' who escorted them to a table for two by the window. The floor was marble and in all the corners of the restaurant, stone columns stood. The interior walls were covered with various works of surrealism. Swarovski Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling and roman candles decorated every table.

“Here are some menus” the maître d' handed one to Tasha and then to Jason. “I’ll give you some time to decide what you’d like and I’ll be right over to take your orders.” The maître d' went to attend to other patrons, leaving Tasha and Jason alone.

Jason and Tasha scanned the menu for a few minutes, looking over the descriptions of the vast assortment of delicious dishes the restaurant served.

  “So what are you thinking of ordering?” Jason asked. 

 “Everything looks quite delicious but I think I’ll take the shrimp risotto.” 

 “That sounds mouthwatering.”

 “Thank you. So what about you?” 

 “I think I’ll go with a seared steak with asparagus and roasted potatoes.”

 “That sounds wonderful as well.”

 “Thanks.”

 Tasha and Jason smiled. The maître d' then returned with glasses of water. “Here you are,” he said as he placed the glasses on the table.

 “Thank you” Tasha replied.

 “Thanks” Jason added.

 “My pleasure. So are you both ready to order?” he asked.

 “We are actually” Jason replied.

 “Wonderful,” he retrieved a notepad and pen from his vest pocket. “What would you like to order.”

 “After you,” Jason told Tasha.

 “Thank you. I’ll take your shrimp risotto with a Caprese salad please.”

 “And I’ll have a seared steak with asparagus and roasted potatoes. Thank you.”

 “Of course. Your order should be ready in about twenty minutes. If there’s anything else I can do for you please let me know.” he replied as he took the menus from Jason and Tasha.

 “Thank you.” 

 “Thanks” Jason replied.

 “No problem.” The maître d' responded before he walked away to the kitchen to put in Tasha and Jason’s order.

…..

“Black Hawk. Any more updates on their position.” a woman’s voice came through the car speaker system.

The man reached for the microphone located in the car. “Negative Red Sparrow. The targets are still inside The Ledbury. The waiter just left with their orders.”

“Understood. If there’s any change in their position or any significant updates. Contact me immediately.”

“Affirmative.”

…..

Professor Zilmer stared nervously at the ground unable to find the courage to look his employer in the eyes. His assistant and wife Francine stood nervously by his side. “Professor Zimler, I must say, I am quite disappointed in you and your wife. I expected your work to have been completed by now.” Dalmar said, taking a puff from his cigar. 

“I know Dalmar but so far it has proven difficult to locate this mineral you tasked us to find. We’ve discovered and analyzed several elements but none have been the particular compound that you want. The latest mineral we tested we discovered has a molecular structure and formula is very to the desired mineral. Unfortunately, its differing molecular structure renders it useless to be used in the way you want. However, I think you could perhaps find it to be very useful in other ways and even very valuable.” He picked up a tube containing that certain mineral from off the lab table and held it out to Dalmar.

Dalmar took the vial and threw it to the ground. The tube shattered sending its contents all over the concrete floor. “I don’t care about this darn mineral! I want the one I demanded!” Dalmar uttered a string of profanities under his breath.

Professor Zilmer took a step back from Dalmar. Francine spoke, “If we could just have a bit more time I’m certain that we would be able—”

“That won’t be necessary. Your services are no longer needed.” Dalmar interrupted, a cold calculating look in his eyes. 

Professor Zilmer swallowed hard and locked eyes with Francine who then stepped forward toward Dalmar. “Please, Dalmar give us time. I’m sure we will be able to meet your requirements.” 

“I’m afraid that I cannot do. I’ve already given you more than enough time and I can’t afford any… loose ends” Dalmar callously replied. “Adrian, Raphael. Please take care of Professor Zilmar and his wife” he ordered as he exited the room. Adrian and Raphael walked towards the two of them from the corners of the lab where they had previously been standing. 

“Please don’t do this!” Francine cried.

“No! No! NO!!!” Professor Zilmer shouted.

No response came from either Raphael or Adrian’s lips. Raphael pulled Professor Zilmer’s arms behind his back and held them securely while Adrian grabbed Francine violently by the arm, which caused her to cry out in pain. Hearing his wife’s desperate screams Professor Zilmer gathered all his strength and broke away from Raphael’s grasp. He punched him firmly in the jaw causing Raphael to lose his balance. He fell backward hitting the side of his head against the metal lab table causing him to lose consciousness. 

“I need backup! I’m in the bunker. Lab room!” Adrian shouted in his shoulder microphone as Professor Zilmer charged at him. Adrian attempted to grab his gun but before he could remove it from his holster, Zilmer’s fist collided with his face causing him to let go of Francine who scrambled to the side of the room. 

“Run Francine! Run!” Professor Zilmer cried as he tried to hold back Adrian. Francine desperately scrambled for the door. Just as she reached the exit a gunshot rang out. Francine could feel blood pouring from her abdomen and quickly placed her hand against the wound. She felt her knees buckle and collapsed to the floor.

“NO!!!!!!!” Professor Zilmer shouted as he saw two more security officers next to the door, one of them still holding his gun out, standing by Francine’s lifeless body. Zilmer wrestled himself from Adrian’s grasp and rushed to Francine’s side. Just as he reached her body he heard another gunshot from behind him, followed almost immediately by the feeling of a bullet ripping through his body. Zilmer staggered forward for a few moments and then fell to the ground beside his wife. 

[dreamingwithbts]

Demon (Boku No Hero) - Chapter 16

Warning: Swearing

Everyone had today and the next day off, and it is also raining, so I’m in bed half sleeping half awake, my body trying to recover from the sports festival, so I just relax listening to the rain going against the window. “So relaxing.” I think closing my eyes enjoying the peace. “MY DAUGHTER! ARE YOU AWAKE?!” Dad in his All Might form enters my room almost bringing the sun with me with how bright is smile looks. “Well.... I AM NOW!” I scream getting up, my peace time is over. “I’m hanging out too much with Katsuki.” I think. “Good morning. Why so happy today?” I ask Dad yawning, and he transforms back to his skinny form. “More like good afternoon, is past lunch time. I thought we could have a father daughter day today.” He says. “Sure, I would love that.” I say smiling at him and he smiles back. “Great! I’m waiting downstairs, so we can make a brunch together!” He says leaving. I get up and dress in a random t-shirt and sweatpants and join Dad on the kitchen who was wearing a All Might apron. “Really Dad?” I say laughing. “I have one for you too!” He says showing me another apron like the one he had. “Oh my god.” I say taking the apron and putting on still laughing. Dad and I start making the brunch while telling stories and laughing.

“These pancakes were amazing!” Dad says satisfied after we finished eating. “Tell me about it! But the waffles with the ice cream were the best.” I say happy then look at the mess in the kitchen making him look too. “We’ll deal with that later.” Dad says laughing nervous making me laugh. “Let’s go watch a movie.” Dad says getting up, and I follow him to the couch while he’s picking a movie and I look at the window seeing it is still raining then I got an idea. “I got an idea! Of a thing we could do while watching the movie!” I say getting up exciting and go to my bathroom. “Okay...” I heard Dad say confused. I come back to the living room seeing Dad already on the couch, the movie ready to start. “Let’s make our skin amazing Dad!” I say showing him the face masks, and he laughs.

Dad and I are concentrating on watching the movie with some panda face masks on our faces and eating popcorn that Dad made a few minutes ago. “If the world saw All Might using a panda face mask! Oh my god, Izuku would do this every day!” I think laughing.

There was a scene in the movie where the girl finally finds her family after so long, and I start thinking about my real family only for Dad to interrupt my thoughts. “It was a great movie! I still prefer the american one’s, but I liked this one.” Dad says sitting straight and cracking his neck. “Ya, I like it too!” I say smiling at him. “Is it time to take this off?” He asks looking at me pointing to the face mask. “Yes! Let’s go to the bathroom.” I say and both of us gets up. I stay in front of Dad taking off his mask then I tell him to massage his face so the left over gel goes to the skin while I take my mask off and do the same. “What’s on your mind, my daughter?” He asks me getting serious. “What are you talking about?” I ask him confused. “I know you. I know when your thinking too hard.” He says smiling at me softly, and I sigh telling him. “The movie scene, just made me think of my other family, you know.” I say, and he just looks at me making me nervous. “Come on.” He says, and he takes me back to the living room sitting me on the couch again then leaves but comes back quickly with something on his hand.

“The day I found you on my door, this letter came with you, but before I can give you this letter, you can’t tell anyone about this, and after you read it I want you to know I love you no matter what.” He says making me nervous and gives me the letter and I start reading it, tears start running on my face and I start shaking. “My...my real Dad...is the villain Stain?” I ask scared. “Unfortunately, yes.” Dad says looking at me sad. “Oh my god, my real Dad is the one who attack Lida brother.” I say crying more and Dad hugs me making me hug him back. “It doesn’t matter who your real Dad is, you are nothing like him and I love you like a daughter no matter who your parents are.” He says. “I love you too Dad.” I say but I think. “I’m more like Stain than you know.”

“What about my mom?” I suddenly ask. “The days after I take you, I try finding her. She was a civilian and your Quirk is similar to hers, but...” He says. “She’s dead, isn’t she.” I say looking down. “Yes, she died on a bus accident where many died.” He says. “ I see.” I say. “Thank you for telling me.” I say smiling a little to the man who raise me. “You’re my daughter, I’ll do anything for you.” He says kissing my head.

The next day didn’t come fast enough after what I found out about myself yesterday. “I can’t believe I’m Stain daughter. A villain daughter.” I think a tear running on my face. Hearing Dad on the kitchen, I sigh and get out of bed dressing something and go meet him. “Hey sweetie. How are you feeling?” Dad asks me kissing my head in his skinny form. “Eh.” I say taking the cup of coffee he was offering me and quickly drinking it. “It stopped raining for a bit. Why don’t you go take a walk? It could do good to you.” He says and I think about it. “I guess it doesn’t hurt. Thanks Dad.” I say. I put the cup down and hug him then get ready to go outside for a walk. “I know she will go to him. Make my daughter happy today.” All Might thinks. I put on a jacket, get my phone and keys and I get ready to leave. “See you in a bit Dad.” I say to him. “Bye!” He says too excited.

I’ve been walking for some time now, lunch hour was hours earlier, but I simply wasn’t hungry, I’ve been looking at the lake on a random park all this time just thinking. I get up, starting to feel cold because the wind started picking up. “It’s going to start raining again soon.” I think looking at the dark clouds and I start walking back home.

Only for me to stop at a familiar house. “Why am I here?” I think looking at Katsuki house and without me thinking I ring the doorbell. “Coming!” I hear Mitsuki voice from the inside before she opened the door. “Yes? Oh! Akuma-chan! What a surprise?! Come in!” She says with a big smile gesturing me to enter after she hugged me. “Hello Mitsuki-san. Sorry to come so suddenly.” I say to her. “Nonsense! You’re welcome here anytime!” She says. “Is Katsuki home?” I ask her. “Yes, he’s in his room, you can go there.” She says. “Thanks, Mitsuki-san.” I say smiling at the woman who smiles back. “Tell me if you need anything.” She says while I go up to Katsuki room. “Will do.” I respond.

I knock on Katsuki door. “What?” I heard his hoarse voice and I open the door and enter slowly, I see him lay down on his bed throwing a ball and catching her. “Hey!” I say with a little smile. “Akuma...!” He says shocked and confused for me being there. “What are you doing here?” He says sitting up. “I don’t know, actually. So, how are you doing, first place?” I say, with a fake laugh, now inside the room while I close his door again. “What happen?” He asks me ignoring my question now looking at me serious. “Nothing happen.” I say looking around the room, so I didn’t look at his eyes. “Bullshit.” He says, and he takes my arm making me sit beside him. “Speak. Now.” He says getting angry. “I can’t.” I say to him scared. “Why the fuck not?” He asks me getting up angry. “I just can’t!” I scream back, tears coming to my eyes. “Then why are you here?” He asks me. “I don’t know! Because I need you I guess!” I say. “Then talk to me!” He screams. “If I talk, you won’t want to be my friend any more!” I say, and he laughs ironically. “You really must be stupid if you think I’m going to pity you and stop being friends for something, I’m not a fucking idiot.” He says. “Now talk.” I sigh, looking at my hands knowing I have to tell him everything, like everything.

“You know that I’m adopted right.” I say to him who was leaning against his desk while I stay in front of him still seating on the bed. “Yesterday I found out who my real parents are.” I say and he stays in silence listening. “My mother was a civilian, and she died on a bus accident days after she left me with my adopted Dad.” I say, and he narrow his eyes at me, still silence. “And my real dad....is the villain.... Stain.” I say looking at Katsuki who is looking at me with big shocked eyes. “Shit, Akuma.” He says getting angry again. “See, this is why...” I start. “You think I would stop being your friend just because you are some villain daughter? Who cares! He wasn’t the one who raised you, and you’re not a fucking villain, so you shouldn’t have shame in that!” He screams at me. “But he hurt Lida oldest brother! How am I going to look at him tomorrow?” I ask him starting to get angry. “Like you always do! Because it wasn’t you who hurt his brother!” He screams now getting closer to me. “You’re right.” I say sighing, tired. “I’m always right, demon.” He says smirking making me laugh, for real this time. “Should I also tell him?” I think. “That’s not all.” I suddenly says and he looks at me confused. “All Might is my adopted Dad.” I suddenly say even more scared now. “WHAT?!” He screams.

Let’s just say, Katsuki was more angry that I didn’t tell him All Might was my Dad more than me being a villain daughter. “Bye Mitsuki-san! Thanks for having me!” I say goodbye to Katsuki mother. “GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE SHIT! WHAT ELSE YOU HAVE TO TELL ME!” Katsuki screams running towards me. ”WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW?” “SHUT UP OLD HAG!” “BYE!” I scream leaving his house laughing knowing that I’m going to be dead tomorrow.

I enter my house still laughing about what happen, and I see Dad approaching me smiling. “I guess the walk did good to you.” He says. “I went to Katsuki house.” I say. “I figure.” He says laughing but then I got serious. “I told him. About Stain and you being my adopted Dad. I’m sorry I know you...” I start but got interrupted by him hugging me. “I know. It’s fine. I know you were going to tell him, he was going to find out anyway since he will be my future son-in-law.” He says smiling big. “WHAT?!” I scream.

“Why does everyone think I’m going to marry that demon/angry pomeranian?” Both Akuma and Katsuki think, laying down in their beds. “Why am I blushing?” Akuma thinks when she imagines Katsuki face. “Why is my heart beating so fast?” Katsuki thinks when imagining Akuma face. “Oh no!” They both think. “SHIT! I LOVE THAT DEMON/ANGRY POMERANIAN!” Both scream in their houses in panic. “Finally.” All Might and Mitsuki say

Note:Hope you like it! New chapter every Friday!

Tag List: @holaaaf

[shyvioletcat]

idk if you already have something for how theyre gonna make up in the firefighter au but "the power goes out in our apartment building, but i’m not prepared for this, and you come to check on me" would be perfect im just sayin........

Me to me: Yeah only post one chapter a day... That’s an excellent plan. Also me to me: Nah you’ve already done the chapter. Just post it.

I don’t know what time zone you’re in by this is my second chapter today. So enjoy. Side note my original plan for last chapter was veeerrryyy different so you guys are very lucky I changed my plans. It was much much worse.

Masterlist

~~~~~

Aelin’s head was pounding.

She wasn’t in her bed, but she wasn’t in an unfamiliar bed either. Lysandra was still asleep beside her and would probably feel just as bad as Aelin did once she woke up. The drunker she had got last night the more pissed she was at Rowan for meeting some woman at the bar. The bar that was just down from their apartments, the bar he could have met her at all week apparently if only they had talked about it a little more. But she she had been looking forward that big grand date. Sure it was just lunch but it was the romantic gesture of it.

But instead he’d decided to meet another girl. A friend. A very good friend from the looks of it. Elide had been the voice of reason the whole time, telling Aelin not to overreact, but Manon had been the opposite. The things she said weren’t said maliciously, only pragmatically offering the negative to Elide’s positive. They had been like a demon and an angel on Aelin’s shoulders all night. From the headache Aelin was feeling the demon had fed her already foul mood and won it seemed.Then Aelin hadn’t wanted to go back to her apartment so she’d come home with Lysandra instead. 

With a groan Aelin rolled over and grabbed her phone. It was already quarter past 11, if she hadn’t cancelled her plans with Rowan she would be frantically getting ready right now for their date. That at least she remembered. Sending the text to Rowan when her confusion over who the dark haired woman had been had won over any other reasoning.

Why hadn’t he just told her?

Aelin scrolled through her notifications and saw the numerous missed calls from Rowan and a few texts. She checked her call log as saw that there was one outgoing call from her to him. Then her body stilled as she remembered something else she’d done and then covered her face with her hands.

Aelin pulled out her phone, everyone had gone somewhere else and she was minding their booth. She was going to do it. The thing that everyone had told her not to, even Manon. Manon thought there was definitely something more to the new woman than met the eye and even she had discouraged Aelin from doing this. She’d already sent the text cancelling lunch, but that wasn’t enough. She did’t want him to think she was done with him, it might just break her heart.

Stupid gorgeous Rowan, with his easy smiles and laughter with a girl that wasn’t her.

She tapped his name and put the phone to her ear. It only rang twice before he answered.

“Hello, Aelin. Are you alright?”

“Heeey Rowan,” Aelin had said. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good, it’s almost two in the morning so i was a little worried,” was Rowan’s reply.

Aelin had hummed at that. “So chivalrous.”

“I think you should hang up Aelin,” Rowan said.

Aelin shook her head even though he couldn’t see her. “I want to say something. I need to say something. I need you to know this. I told Manon you weren’t my snack. I was right of course, you’re not. But I don’t want you to be anyone else’s”

There was silence on both ends of the phone.

“You need to hang up, Aelin. Talk to me when you’re sober,” Rowan’s voice had been kind but firm.

“But —”

“No buts. I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll do the chivalrous thing and hang up for you.”

Then he hung up.

Aelin pulled the pillow she had been sleeping on from under her head and buried her face in it and let out a frustrated noise, not caring if Lysandra was awake or not. She evidently was when an arm that did not belong to Aelin thumped on top of the pillow. Aelin lifted it a little and peeked out to where her best friend lay.

“What did you do?” Lysandra asked.

“Something stupid, real stupid,” Aelin said. Aelin told Lysandra’s what she had done and when she finished her friend cackled.

“I’m sorry,” Lysandra said, still laughing a little. “It’s just, you two get so close then something just happens to get in the way. And you calling him and saying that… well at least he knows now.”

Aelin let out a heavy sigh. “What do I do now then?”

“We go to brunch, then once you no longer feel like there’s a herd of rhinos in your head we’ll work it out.”

~~~~~

After the events of the night before Rowan had decided it would be best to keep busy today and not in his apartment, where he would no doubt we waiting for sounds of Aelin’s return. After snatching a few hours of sleep he’d knocked on Aelin’s door in the mid morning but there had been no answer. He guessed she hadn’t come home last night or was out again.

Instead he wandered around the mall for a few hours, buying a couple of pairs of new jeans and a few shirts.Then he’d gone over and hung out at Fenrys’ and Connall’s house staying there for dinner but left soon after.

It was raining on the drive home, the sound soothing and monotonous on his wind shield. Aelin cancelling lunch had left a weight in Rowan’s chest, mainly because of his own stupidity. He had meant to tell Aelin about Lyria, he really had.

That was the one thought that kept running through his head, what had kept him awake even though he was bone tired. He’d been so caught up in Aelin that he hadn’t even thought about any other woman when he was with her. Aelin had bewitched him and he would gladly fall under her spell again and again.

Rowan pulled into the underground parking garage and drove straight into his parking spot. As he closed the door of his truck he remembered how Aelin had plastic wrapped it, making him half an hour late for work because he had to cut his way through. At the time Rowan had been fuming, so angry at Aelin for that silly prank. But now it only made him laugh.

Aelin had a wicked sense of humour and quicker wit. She was smart and beautiful, kind and compassionate. Rowan was hesitant to admit she was perfect but she came pretty godsdamned close. He hoped this slip up with Lyria hadn’t ruined his chances with her.

He was sure it hadn’t. Aelin had called him, wasted drunk, and he got the heavy hiny that she did want him.

Rowan reached the landing of his floor and made for his apartment. As he passed Aelin’s door he heard music playing and Rowan smiled. She was home, all Rowan needed was an excuse to drop by. He tried to think of one as he unlocked his door. He could maybe take over dessert? No, he’d have to go out and get something, there was nothing in his fridge or freezer. Dinner was out too. It was well after dinner time and he’d eaten already anyway. He didn’t have anything of hers to return. Rowan went into his bedroom, ripping the tags off his new clothes before dropping them in the basket.

Just then his entire apartment went dark and stayed that way. Power outage, pretty common in this building when it was raining. This was perfect, like for once in his life the gods were on his side. Well, maybe at least just one of them. He grabbed his phone from where it lay on the bed and flicked on the torch. Working as a firefighter Rowan was pretty well equipped when it came to emergency situations. We went to the cupboard where he stored emergency items, pulling out the torches and small portable lanterns before chucking them into the shopping bag from earlier.

Then Rowan went back into his bedroom and swapped his jeans for a pair of sweatpants, grabbed his keys and phone and left.

~~~~~

Aelin was lying on her couch messing around on her phone while music played in her apartment when the room had gone dark and the music cut out on the speaker and started playing on her phone. It was just another thing to go wrong. She’d gone to Rowan’s earlier with some ice cream but there’d been no answer so she’d come back here to mope. She’d been so stupid last night, calling him and telling him that. And she most likely had been wrong about the woman at the bar. When the lights had gone out she used the light on her phone to light the two candles that she had and laid back down on the couch, her phone on her chest. Maybe she should just call him.

Aelin picked up her phone again to do just that when there was a knock on the door. She she adjusted the robe she had slipped on over her gold nightgown, putting it on earlier to make herself feel a bit better. The rain had cooled her apartment down just enough that she was just a little too cold to wear it by itself. It was just by coincidence she didn’t have to run back into her room to grab it so she didn’t answer the door half naked.

But when she opened the door, Aelin had to admit to herself that she kind of wish she had left the robe off. Because it was Rowan Whitethorn at her door.

Aelin was a little shocked to see him, but not at all disappointed. Rowan smiled at her and she smiled right back, albeit a small one considering she was still embarrassed by her drunken phone call.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” Aelin said back to him.

“I just wanted to check if you alright with the power out.” Rowan held up a bag of something Aelin couldn’t make out in the dim light.

“You’ve come to check on me?” Aelin said with a smile still playing on her lips.

“I’m very well prepared working in emergency services, I thought you might like some light in your home,” Rowan said as he took out a torch and turned it on.

Aelin didn’t say anything else, she just moved aside and to let Rowan into her apartment.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading guys! Stick with me, we’re almost there! Also if there’s an excessive amount of typos please forgive me, my eyes are super tired.

Tags: @tangledraysofsunshine // @nalgenewhore // @highqueenofelfhame // @galyxsy // @fucking-winchester-trash // @literary-licorice // @http-itsrebecca // @highladyofthesith // @aelinfire-bringer // @soup-that-is-too-hawt // @sleep-and-books // @3am-reading // @average-girl-at-best // @but-she-was-aelin-galathynius // @rowaelinforeverworld // @alifletcher2012 // @westofmoon // @tswaney17 // @mydarlingfireheart // @rowansfirebringer // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen // @vanilla28 // @fireheart-of-your-dreams // @enquires-state-building // @im-not-rare-im-rarr // @your-high-lady // @mariamuses // @ttakeitbacknoww // @vi0let-femmes // @kindofawalkingpoem // @sleeping-and-books // @armixers-unite // @velarian-trash // @queenofxhearts // @princess-galathynius // @heroesofterrasen // @ladyofstoriesandmusic // @unassumingsodalovesherbooks // @empire-of-wildfire // @brittneym15 // @camerooonchiu // @worldoffae // @mybbyfeyre // @crackedship // @lowhangingtreebranches // @over300books // @yourwhisperingshadows //  @thesirenwashere // @pilesofriles // @chemicha // @keshavomit // @sarahbringsoutmygay13 // @wifeofchrishemsworth // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper // @cat5313 // @judelovescardan // @illyrian-velaris // @flowerspringsea // @whitethorn15 // @whiskeybusiness1776 // @notaddictedtoanything // @thereaderandfangirl // @mynewdreamwasyou // @tintinnabulary // @the-regal-warrior // @searchingforbellarke // @queen-of-wings-and-fire // @court-of-fuck-me-daddy // @officialasianbitch //

[prettywordsyouleft]

Neighbourly

Summary: With a drip in your roof, you weren’t going to get any sleep if you stayed in your apartment. It was a good thing you had Jae as a neighbour who owed you a favour.

Pairing: Jae Park x reader

Genre: neighbours to lovers / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: So I have a drip in my roof and we’ve had a lot of rain lately. It means I haven’t been getting a lot of sleep as I suffer from misophonia, and this idea stems from waking up exhausted one morning after some heavy rain. Thankfully, I think I’ve solved my issue, now Y/N just needs to solve hers XD

Also, just want to thank @noona-clock because without B’s guidance over this, you probably wouldn’t be getting a DAY6 story today. Xxx

Word count: 3525

You convinced yourself everything was fine. Rolling onto your side, you composed yourself and asked for your slumber to come forth and take you into a peaceful dimension.

Instead, you heard it again.

Letting out a huff of air, you swapped to your other side more vigorously, trying to suppress the somewhat desperate expression now residing on your face.

You would sleep. You would get so much sleep that you were certain you would wake tomorrow fully rested.

It happened again, this time louder than before.

Who were you kidding; there would be no sleep within this predicament.

Sitting up, disgruntled, you glared up at your bedroom ceiling to the spot that seemed to be causing all the ruckus. With heavy rain falling endlessly from the heavens, of course, the roof in your apartment was leaking somewhere with the overflow. Although you didn’t have an actual leak yet, you could tell something was definitely dripping up in the ceiling. You had contacted your landlord earlier in the evening and he had promised someone would come over to clear out the gutters and look into the problem first thing on Monday morning. Given it was Friday night though, and rain was forecasted for the next day as well, you were already at the end of your tether.

You cursed your innate ‘gift’ to hear everything that happened around you.

Staring at the ceiling still, you wondered what you could do. The first thought you had was to shift out to your living room. Over the next ten minutes, you lugged your mattress off your bed and out into the small living space, knowing your tiny sofa just wouldn’t cut it. Once settled back on your bedding, you smiled forcibly and nodded to yourself slowly.

“Let’s get some sleep now,” you instructed your body and mind, closing your eyes and placing your hands over your waist lightly. A posture of peace and tranquillity. You would be slumbering in no time.

You could still hear the drip from out here.

You were laughing now at the ridiculous state of your frazzled mind. It was already closing in on midnight and you would be lucky if you caught the bare minimum of needed rest to function tomorrow. You would have to cancel brunch with your friends in order to return to a decent human after all of this.

But what could you do in the interim?

Glancing around your darkened apartment, you groaned heavily. The rain was too much to travel out in this late at night, and you thought that the constant lashing on the roof above would ease your mind from hearing the dripping pipe within the ceiling. Of course, being someone highly sensitive to sounds meant even if you didn’t want to, your brain was one step ahead of you and focusing solely on the dripping. Exclaiming how clever it was to decipher such a sound with the din outside.

For the umpteenth time in your life, you cursed how easy it was for you to process sounds faster and more precisely than others.

For the next hour, you played games on your phone since you were now wide awake. You caught up on Instagram stories and read a couple of updated fan-fictions. After that, you brewed one of your favourite teas, hoping with the calm aroma, your over-stimulated mind would fall asleep, dripping sound or not.

You were in front of your door twenty minutes later, contemplating an offer your neighbour had once given you.

“If you ever need anything, just knock on my door, Y/N. You’ve helped me out by letting me stay here this week; I’ll gladly return the favour at any time.”

His words played over in your mind as you stood there wrapped up in your blanket, hand half-raised for your front door handle. Jae’s apartment was across the hall from yours and would use a different gutter system than the one attached to yours. You were certain his home would be free from the incessant dripping right now and that was rather appealing.

But was it acceptable to knock on Jae’s door at this time? Surely this hour was out of the jurisdiction of being a friendly neighbour, right? You knew if Jae knocked on your door right now, he wouldn’t unless it was important. And you would no doubt be all too accommodating.

This was kind of important, and so you believed you should at least try.

Steeling yourself for the impending interaction, you placed a smile onto your lips, only to remove it. You needed to look as desperate as you felt. With this thought at the forefront of your mind, you stepped out of your door and over to his, knocking three times on it.

Your usual amount of knocks, of course.

Waiting for a minute, nothing seemed to happen. Resigned, you heaved your blanketing around for the dejected trek back into the dripping symphony within your roof.

“Y/N?” a voice called out sleepily and you whipped around, unbalanced within your blanket burrito. Jae’s eyes flashed open as he reached out to steady you, blinking slowly when you were stable again. “What are you… and like this… is everything okay?”

“I’m sorry for waking you,” you started, widening your eyes in what you hoped would show just how distraught you were.

Because you were beyond all rationale now.

“My roof has a leak and I’ve tried to sleep but it just won’t stop dripping and-”

Jae swung his door open wider, padding back inside. You wondered if he was about to shut the door over your ridiculous predicament, yet it remained open and you waited to see what would happen next. He reappeared, scratching at the back of his head in confusion. “Are you coming in?”

“Oh, that was you inviting me in, right,” you babbled and waddled into his home with your array of blanket ends dragging on the ground. Stepping into his small living area, you eyed the sofa in relief. “Thank you, I’ll just take the sofa and-”

“You nursed me for an entire week when I was so sick and my heating went out, do you really think I’m going to let you crash on my sofa?!”

You blushed at his memory and shrugged lightly. “I’m not fussed, honestly.”

“I am, you look like you’re about to strangle something if you don’t get any sleep. I’ll take the sofa, and you can have my bed.”

“Are you sure?”

Jae nodded firmly, prodding you and all of your blanket into his room. Taking his top blanket off the bed, he then gestured for you to lay down, wishing you a restful sleep and closed the door.

You thought it would take some time to fall asleep. After all, you had been so wired up until this point. However, as soon as you were comfortably arranged under your blanket, sleep finally reached out for you and took you off into a deep dream state.

So deep, that you didn’t feel the bed dip when Jae climbed onto it in his own sleepy stupor, nor were you bothered when you rolled into him and felt the warmth of lying next to another person. In fact, you relished in it, burying in deeper and sleeping soundly until the light of the morning infiltrated the room and you had finally gained sufficient hours of sleep.

And then you became aware.

How, when a single dripping sound had almost driven you to a complete meltdown, had you not woken up to Jae climbing into bed with you?! Why was he here anyway? Was the sofa too cold? Did something happen? Your mind raced with multiple scenarios and the longer you contemplated them, the further you became aware of other things around you. Like the arm Jae had slung over your waist loosely and how you hadn’t yet moved it away.

Glancing down at his limb, you chewed on your bottom lip thoughtfully. Should you disturb him? After all, it was a little inappropriate even if you were friendly, to be sleeping this intimately with your neighbour. Yet, you hadn’t been held like this in some time, and a large part of you was kind of enjoying it. Jae’s warmth comforted you and his even breathing made you smile.

No, you couldn’t wake him up.

But what about breakfast? You were hungry by now and it wouldn’t be long until your stomach started to be vocal about it. You didn’t need the embarrassment of not only waking Jae up overnight but expecting breakfast as well.

You were a woman of standards! If anything, it would make sense for you to get up now, head home and make a delicious thank you breakfast and then bring a portion over for Jae. Could you simply look within his refrigerator instead and cook here? Jae would need to eat breakfast. You could just save the trip home and cook for him here.

For the two of you.

You blushed at the thought of doing something like that here.

You were neighbours though, and neighbours this close could make food for one another and not be offended. Or misconstrue sentiments like arms over waists and being in the same bed together.

Right?

It was already too late for logic, your body temperature clearly indicated how affected you were with Jae’s arm over you.

Now was the time to leave. To escape this heady experience where you fell in love with Jae over a drip in the roof and a fumbled, poorly constructed excuse from him about why he was sleeping beside you in the first place.

Life wasn’t a fairytale and you had slept all too well within Jae’s bed because you needed a cold dose of reality to put you in check.

Move, you willed yourself, and you shifted agonisingly slow from Jae’s slumbering side, gently lifting his arm off of you in the process. Before you were fully out from under him, Jae moved, curling the arm you had almost succeeded in escaping back around you and pulling you toward his warm body.

You held your breath, eyes wide when, “Don’t go yet,” tumbled from his lips.

“But I need to.”

“Why?” he mumbled, tightening his arm over you. He let out a deep breath, inhaling you in as he settled back into your side. “Whyyy?”

God, was he always this cute when half-asleep? You thought back to the time when you had looked after him. Jae had definitely been an adorable, albeit whiny patient. He would try to damper down his demands, yet you had fussed over him, making it easy for you to succumb to his whims. During that week, you had gotten to know him pretty well, and one thing that you remembered was his little mumbles whenever he was half-asleep. You had little conversations with him during those moments until he fell asleep, smiling the whole time at his little pouts and whines.

Right now though, he wasn’t sick and you needed to stop smiling.

“I have to go home.”

“No, stay.”

“But I’m hungry,” you continued and he sighed again.

“So eat with me.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed and you couldn’t help but let the small smile itching to cross your lips spread out. Jae nuzzled in again, content with your lack of a response. “Just ten more minutes.”

It didn’t make it to that time before Jae finally became alert. His grip around you loosened off and his posture changed. You realised the dream had come to an end and sat up quickly.

“I’m sorry,” you mentioned, smoothing down your bed hair. “I should have pushed you off. You’re surprised, right? I was too when I found you in here instead of on the sofa but-”

“I must’ve come in here after going to the bathroom,” he explained, though he was smiling.

You nodded all too quickly, reaching out for your blanket to pull off and go home. Back to the dripping and the clarity that would come within your own space.

Jae grabbed on, preventing your hasty escape. “Are you embarrassed?”

“Thank you for letting me stay over.”

“You are,” he commented, chuckling to himself.

It irked you. “Well, it’s not every morning that I expect to wake up in your arms, Jae.”

“You’re right, it’s not.”

“It was just a thing that happened since we were both sleepy and now that we’re…” you trailed off when he tilted his head to the side, his expression still bemused. You stared back at him until he nudged you.

“And now that we’re…?” he prompted, causing you to blink rapidly. He chuckled again. “If I knew you were this cute to wake up to every morning, I would do it more often.”

Excuse me?

You took in his expression properly, noticing behind the amusement, Jae actually looked like he was enjoying this. Not the teasing, well, he was having his fun. But holding you had meant something more than coincidence. You weren’t some other girl he was dreaming of whilst he held you.

It dawned on you that when he was talking to you before, when he stopped you from leaving; it was because he knew it was you.

And he didn’t want it to end either.

Jae got up as you sat there reeling from your discovery, leaving you sitting in his bed as he departed the room. Only to stick his head around the threshold a moment later. “Didn’t you say you were hungry?”

Leaping out from the bed, you ensured your pyjamas were straight before you stepped into the living room, now finding Jae in the kitchen preparing a simple breakfast. You silently joined him and soon you were both seated at his small table to eat. You had just taken a bite of your toast when Jae spoke again.

“Did you contact your landlord?”

You nodded, swallowing down your food before replying. “He said someone would come out Monday morning.”

“Where’s the drip?”

“Bedroom ceiling.”

Jae nodded softly, contemplating. He looked up at you and smiled. “You can stay here until it’s fixed.”

“Oh, no I couldn’t do that, I’ll just go home to my parents for the weekend,” you hurried to say and Jae shook his head.

“Why, you slept fine here last night. Don’t they live like an hour away?”

You didn’t want to inform him of just how well you had slept. You were convinced it was driven from pure exhaustion and not because he somehow wound up at your side during the night.

You wouldn’t let yourself believe in it being any other reason, for the remaining sanity you held onto.

“I can’t expect you to give up your bed for another night,” you told him and Jae chuckled.

“Two nights, and you gave up a whole lot more for me when I was sick.”

“You needed my help back then.”

“And now you need mine,” he pointed out, staring back at you.

You realised he wasn’t going to let up and decided to be straight-forward with him. “I don’t think it’s wise for me to stay again. It’s not that I don’t want to, I appreciate your offer-”

“But?” he interjected and you tried to smile.

“I don’t want to draw conclusions in the wrong way.”

“Like what?” He now leaned his head on a hand, the ghost of a smile licking at the corners of his lips. Was he really fighting back the urge to laugh right now?

Blushing, you glanced away. “It was nice, this morning was. But it can’t happen again.”

“Why not?”

Your head snapped back in his direction and he was smiling now. It was charming and you soaked it in like the love fool you were becoming. Blinking slowly, you then shook off the effect and squared your shoulders. “We’re neighbours.”

“That we are.”

“It would be inappropriate if something happened again.”

“Like me holding you?”

“Must you be so blatant about it?!” you hissed and he finally laughed, nodding once.

“I need to since you’re so blind to my advances otherwise,” Jae announced, folding his arms over his chest. He smirked before continuing. “If you don’t want to, it’s fine. I won’t pressure you into staying again even if it is the most convenient. And whilst it was an honest sleep-driven mistake that I came back to my bedroom overnight, I’m not ashamed of my actions. You clearly were comfortable with it, heck I think you even liked it more than you’re letting on.”

Your cheeks flamed with obvious colour.

“I just want you to know, it’s fine by me. Us being just neighbours. Or neighbours that share the bed when in a predicament.”

“Or?” you continued, sensing the rest of his sentence that remained on the tip of his tongue. Jae studied you for a moment longer before he answered.

“Or we could be more than just neighbours and admit there’s something between us. At least, I think so.”

You couldn’t deny it; you had had a soft spot for Jae since he had been ill. But was that just it? Fellow comradeship that helped you get through the daily grind? No, you knew there was more to it. You wouldn’t just allow someone else to hold you like Jae had. And even if it had made you anxious initially, he was right.

You had liked it, a whole lot.

“I mean, even if you accept option number three, I can totally sleep on the sofa again tonight.”

“What, so you can stumble in during the night like you did?” you teased and Jae gaped at you dramatically.

“I’ll have you know I can be a gentleman. In fact, I didn’t cross the line even if I did end up climbing into bed with you.”

He had a point. And honestly, the longer you discussed it, the more at ease you were becoming.

It was also kind of giddying to know he liked you more than just a friend, and you were definitely fuelled on by this.

Besides, you were a grown adult. You could share a bed with Jae without doing anything crazy. And even if you did, well, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, right?

You decided with how fast your heart started to thump in your chest that keeping things simple for now would be better. You needed a place to stay and Jae was offering you one.

And if it came with his warmth and arm over your body free of service, well, who were you to complain?

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll stay, thank you.”

“Any stipulations?” he asked, grinning genuinely. It made you mirror his reaction, shaking your head a moment later. Jae leaned closer. “You’re sure about that?”

“Well, you’re right, there is no rush. But if you’re going to just end up coming back into your bed by habit in the middle of the night, you might as well just start out there. Besides, it’s your home, and I’m your guest. I am happy to go with whatever works best.”

“How does a pre-ritual before bed sound then?” he wondered and you frowned at his suggestion. Jae laughed at your reaction and pointed to the sofa he had slept on last night. “We could start there together. Watch a movie or two, eat popcorn, and just enjoy a rainy night in. And then when it comes to bedtime, we can decide what we’re comfortable with then.”

You relaxed, nodding in agreement. Eying the dismal world outside his apartment window, you then turned back to Jae. “What are you doing today?”

“Nothing much with all this rain, why?”

“Should we start the ritual now? Today’s the perfect day for a movie marathon.”

“Is this when I find out whether our tastes in cinematic replay match or not?”

You giggled. “It’s an important thing to discover!”

“You’re on.”

“I’ll just go home and get changed and then come back with supplies. Can’t have it be just only your movies that we watch.”

Jae agreed heartily and with breakfast now finished, you got up, heading to the door of his apartment. He followed you, and you turned to smile at him before reaching for the handle. Just as you were about to open it, he took a hold of your hand, drawing your attention back to him. “Hey, can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated before smiling at you. “You’re beautiful when you first wake up in the morning.”

Not knowing what to say, you tried not to smile too wide or blush too much, gave his hand a squeeze before you stepped out and over to your own apartment. Taking a moment to regulate your breathing, you bit your lip to suppress the squeal that rose up in your throat, in case Jae was still by his door and heard you. Pushing away from your door, you went into your bedroom, glancing up at the affected area. You listened for the sound of the drip and when you heard it, your smile grew.

You had a lot to thank the rain for.

_________________

All rights reserved © prettywordsyouleft

[DAY6 Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

[boushh2187]

Home for Christmas - Rumbelle Secret Santa 2019

Title: Home for Christmas

Author: boushh2187

Rumbelle Secret Santa 2019 Gift for @crankynerdgirl

Prompt: jealous lovers, miscommunication, happy ending

Fandom/Pairing: Once Upon a Time / Rumbelle

Word Count: 5,798

Summary: A first Christmas together in Storybrooke is complicated by innocent misunderstandings. Non-Magical Storybrooke AU.

Author’s Note: To my giftee: Thank you so much for this prompt. I had a blast writing it! This was your choice of Plan B! :) I had two ideas and you chose this one. I hope you like it! It was an honor being your Santa! Happy Holidays!!

Home for Christmas

Mr. Gold’s Pawn Shop was quiet as he worked carefully on an old pocket watch. He rather enjoyed working on and restoring these old timepieces. There was something satisfying about seeing the hands move and hearing the ticking sound on a watch that was once still and quiet. Just one more adjustment and the job would be done. Raymond Gold looked at the clock on the wall. Just in time. Gold chuckled to himself and set the correct time on the pocket watch. His daily guest would be arriving soon. He might just have enough time to polish the watch before she arrived. 

He took the polish and cloth and began cleaning up the watch. He had a nice, velvet lined box to put it in, and he would leave the wrapping up to his customer. This was to be a holiday gift. Storybrooke was full of townsfolk buying gifts and decorating for the winter holidays. He couldn’t believe how the time flew by. A common saying among people, he knew, but it was different this year for him. This year, something had changed. He couldn’t believe his luck, and how much time had gone by since the fortunate moment when his life had taken a turn for the better. 

He thought back to that stormy day in early June. It had been six months since Belle French had pushed the door open of his shop and jumped in, the wind blowing in behind her... 

The gust of wind pushed at the petite woman, nearly knocking her over as she entered. Belle slammed the door shut with both hands and stood in front of it, dripping wet and trying to pull wet strands of her brown hair out of her eyes. Her light blue rain coat had blown open and the pretty spring dress she wore underneath was soaked. In a mere moment there was a puddle on the floor and she was apologizing profusely for bringing in all the rain water. Gold grabbed a clean and dry towel from the cabinet behind him and went over and handed it to her. He took care not to place his cane on the wet floor, for fear of slipping. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s not a day to be outside!” he reassured her and offered her his arm. She took it with a grateful expression and he led her inside the shop.

“It was lovely before. I was walking on the pier and stopped to talk to someone, and before you knew it the clouds had come in,” she said as she attempted to dry herself off next to the counter. “By the time I came back onto Main Street my umbrella had broken and blown away! Oh look at me, I’m a mess.” Emotion was creeping into her voice. Perhaps she was a bit embarrassed. She needn’t have been. She was always lovely.

“There, there. Come inside the back room. I have more dry towels and you can choose any of the clothes in the shop. Free of charge. I even have a hair dryer in here. I’ll make us some tea and you can ride out the storm in here.”

Before long she had on some dry clothes and dried her hair and was settled in, sitting across the counter from him and sipping her hot tea. “Mmm, I haven’t had Earl Grey in a while,” she said. “Thank you.”

He nodded and sipped his own cup of tea. They made pleasant small talk, and chatted about various goings on in the town.

“You know, I have decided that people have got you all wrong.”

He chuckled. “Oh? Do tell.”

Instead of going on about what the townsfolk thought of him she looked at him with an honest expression and stated, “Well I won’t say what they think, but I think you’re quite kind. Thank you again for helping me out this afternoon.” She reached out and touched his hand lightly. 

“It was no trouble.” He couldn’t think of what else to say. She was the one who was being kind by not mentioning what the townsfolk thought of him. Some just thought him cold, others mean, and others were plain afraid of him. He was a landlord to many, and more than a few people would come into the shop to pawn their things. He was never a social butterfly, but he knew he had become cold and distant since Milah moved away and took their son with her. It had been five years and he only saw his son twice a year. He was heartbroken, and lonely, but didn’t think there was anything to be done about it.

Belle changed that notion. The next day she arrived around noon with a picnic basket full of food for lunch that they shared for an hour, before she had to return to the library where she worked. She said it was to thank him for his kindness, but they had a lovely time. He enjoyed her company, and she must have enjoyed his because she arrived with lunch once again the following day.  It became a daily occurrence. Every day except Sundays when his shop and the library were closed. She didn’t work on Saturdays yet she arrived for lunch. Sometimes he would provide the food items, and other days she would bring something for them to share. 

Part of him didn’t think that she could possibly be interested in him in any other way except in friendship. He was divorced, with a child already, and much older than she was. He was in his late forties while she had just turned 30. He’d walked in on her birthday gathering at Granny’s earlier that year while he was out collecting rent. He was hardly the ideal partner for someone such as herself. Not to mention that he had a bad ankle and wasn’t able to walk without his cane. Meanwhile, she was beautiful, younger, smarter, friendlier, and there were plenty of younger men in town that would be interested. Yet she spent time with him every day, and he felt that there was a good connection between them. It was something he had never quite felt before.

It would take him two months to finally work up the nerve to ask her over for dinner. He was a good cook, and she agreed that she always enjoyed the lunches that he prepared, some of which were leftovers from the night before. She agreed and came over for dinner one evening in August, and it was morning when he drove her home to her apartment above the library. He had gone and opened up his shop in somewhat of a daze, wondering if it had all been a dream. They had been seeing each other ever since. Belle had even taken to calling him her boyfriend. Imagine that?

The little bell above the front door chimed, and there was the person that had so occupied his thoughts these last few months. Belle was holding the door open with her back and pulling in a medium sized soft sided red wagon. She was dressed for the cold, with a woolen grey coat and hat and boots. She pulled the wagon inside and closed the door behind her. Gold felt the gust of cold wind just at that moment and shivered. 

“It’s so warm in here! Thank goodness!” she exclaimed as she pulled her hat and gloves off. “I bought us lunch from Grannys, and I have a Christmas wreath for your shop and for the house. I already dropped the others off at the Library and at Grannys. Father sends his regards, by the way. He decorated the wreaths extra pretty this year.” She held one up for his approval. It was decorated with a big red ribbon, little red and green gifts, holly, and frosted pine cones.

“It’s very fine,” he said, and smirked. “However, I very much doubt your father sent his regards.”

She placed the wreath on the side counter and pulled the cart to the side. She grabbed the bag from Grannys and came over to him. “Well it was more like a grumble, followed by your name, followed by a grumble. Maybe a swear word or two.” 

“Now that’s more like it,” he responded. Needless to say, her father did not approve.

She came around behind the counter and placed the lunch on top of it. “Well he’s also not happy that I’m staying in Storybrooke and not going with him to visit my aunties in Boston. I’ll be seeing them when they visit in the spring. I’d much rather spend the holidays with you.” She put her arms around his neck. Her coat was freezing.

“You need to take this thing off before it turns me into a popsicle,” he said, and started undoing the buttons of her coat for her.

“Shouldn’t you be used to the cold weather, Mr. Scotsman living in Maine?” she teased as she looked up at him with her blue eyes. He looked back smugly as he undid the buttons.

He helped her take her coat off and draped it around the chair, wasting no time in putting his arms around her and pulling her close. “I do just fine in the cold weather, but I would rather be close to you like this instead of that big old frozen coat.”

“Hey, I happen to like that coat. It was a gift from a very handsome man I know.” She lifted up on her toes and kissed him gently on the lips.

He was caught off guard for a moment because he was the one that had given her that coat. He was always surprised to hear these kinds of words about him. She saw him much differently than he saw himself, that was certain.

“If we continue like this much longer lunch is going to get cold,” she said, in a reluctant tone, and disengaged from his embrace. She started setting out their lunch. “Raymond would you mind if we had brunch at Granny’s tomorrow instead of lunch here?”

“That would be very nice, actually. I look forward to it.” He grinned at her as she set the hot soup in front of him. Perfect for the blustery day.

“Great, I promised Granny and Ruby I would help them decorate early in the morning. Remember I told you how it was my mission this year to help anyone with decorations that needed it? This town is so quaint and beautiful that I think it needs to be as festive as early as possible. It’ll bring in more business for everyone, and it’ll just be lovely! Oh! And I was talking with David Nolan earlier. He was saying how he wished he had some extra help at the animal shelter, to make sure the animals feel cared for and loved this time of year, and he needs help with potential adoptions… Anyway, I told him I would be glad to help. So if you’re ever looking for me in the late afternoons I might be over there helping him.”

She was a whirlwind of excitement this afternoon. “That’s all very kind of you Belle. That’s why everyone loves you, unlike my grumpy self.” He grinned and said it half in jest, but it was true that much of the townsfolk didn’t like him. He didn’t have any real friends.

“Oh stop. You’ve been friendly.”

“Thanks to you it somehow happens at times,” he said with a laugh.

“It does!” she insisted. “David likes you! And Ruby too! She just told me how much more personable you’ve been lately. And Mary Margaret invited us over for the Nolans Christmas Eve party. I hope you’ll want to go with me.”

“Of course,” he reached out and squeezed her hand. “You also said you’d like to help me decorate the house. How does this weekend sound? I’ll close the shop on Saturday. You can spend the weekend with me… if you like.”

She smiled brightly at him. “Yes! On one condition.”

He raised an eyebrow, just as he was filled with joy at her immediate acceptance. They’d never spent a weekend together before.

“We do the same for Christmas and New Year’s weekend. I can’t think of a better way to spend it than cozying up at home with you.”

He was certain he was dreaming, but he nodded in response, because he didn’t trust that words would actually come out of his mouth.

They finished lunch and set out to quickly decorate the shop. She found an old radio and tuned it to a holiday station. They put the wreath on the door, he put the menorah in front of the window, and they placed garland and colored lights around the shop. He also took some time to finish polishing the pocket watch. He handed the watch and the box to her. “What do you think?”

“It looks amazing. Father is going to love it. I’m going to make sure to mention how much care and work you put into it.” 

“He’s going to love it because it’s coming from you.” He was pretty sure that it wouldn’t make much of a difference in how the man thought of him.

*****

The next day he arrived at Granny’s for brunch. The wreath Belle had brought for the diner hung on the door as he opened it. There was garland all along the windows, and lights wrapped around the garland. It had the desired festive effect. 

He scanned the diner for Belle as he stepped inside. It didn’t take long for him to find her. She was perched on top of a ladder placing lights along the top of the windowsill in the back of the diner. She was laughing at something David Nolan said. David was steadying the ladder and handing her the remainder of the lights. She wobbled slightly and he steadied her more securely by holding onto the ladder and placing a hand at the small of her back. 

Raymond Gold felt his entire body tense. At first it was with worry when he saw Belle unsteady on the ladder, and then it was with a twinge of jealousy. He tried to shake it away, but he couldn’t help but feel it. David Nolan was tall, very handsome, very friendly, outgoing, and was with his second wife in less than two years, who was also pregnant with his child. If it wasn’t for that last fact, he would be just the kind of man that Belle should have in her life. She obviously seemed to enjoy his company. They were both smiling and chatting and having a grand time. He had to will himself to move instead of keeping himself standing near the doorway clenching his fists. He was aware that several people, including Granny greeted him, but he said nothing in return. He didn’t even look at them. He kept his eyes on Belle and David as he approached them.

“There!” Belle said, brightly. “All done!” She began an attempt to descend. 

“Looks great, Belle!” David said as he reached up to take Belle’s hand.

Before Gold even knew what he was doing he had stepped up to them and placed his cane right on top of David’s foot, and leaned down hard on it.

David shouted and pulled his foot from under the cane. He hopped on one foot for a moment, and Gold took that time to reach out for Belle to take his hand instead. “Oh I’m so sorry, Mr. Nolan. Are you all right?” 

Belle hopped down off of the ladder. “Oh no, David.”

David waved his arms at them. “It’s OK. It’s OK. Just my big clumsy feet getting in the way as usual!” He laughed through gritted teeth and Gold smirked in satisfaction.

“Yes, it’s a wonder you’ve had two different women in your life in such a short time…” muttered Gold under his breath.

“Raymond!” Belle chided him, quietly and nudged his ribs. David was busy rubbing his foot and apparently didn’t hear.

“I have some ice if you need it!” Granny called from behind the counter as she served a plate to a customer. 

David laughed it off and limped off toward the door. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later, Belle. I have to get to work. Goodbye Mr. Gold.”

“Take care, Mr. Nolan. Again, I’m terribly sorry about your foot.” Gold responded, only half sincere.

“Bye David. See you later. Raymond, why don’t you get us a table while Ruby and I take this ladder to the back.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” Gold smiled to himself and went off to see if their favorite booth was free.

*****

That Friday Belle waited outside the Storybrooke Library with a packed bag for the weekend. Raymond picked her up in his black Cadillac sedan. That evening they made their favorite pasta dish, and once the dishes were in the dishwasher, and the table was cleared, they set out to decorate the house for Christmas. They tackled outdoors first. Bundled up for the cold they went around and placed the lights on the hedges and shrubbery around the house. 

“Oh my, it’s cold out there!” Belle exclaimed as they rushed back inside. It took them a little longer than expected and the temperature had dropped significantly once the sun had set. She was dressed warmly enough, but even so she felt chilled. She took off her coat and handed it to Raymond to put away.

Raymond took his own coat off and placed it on the rack. “I’ll make us some tea to warm us up… or hot chocolate?” 

“Actually hot chocolate does sound good! I’ll get started on these lights.” She dropped onto the couch and grabbed the first batch. These were to go on the windows inside, and on the tree. She hoped that Raymond would enjoy the house this way. He said he hadn’t bothered to decorate since the last time his son stayed with him for the holidays.

By the time he returned she had untangled two light sets and was onto the third. He placed the tray of hot chocolate and cookies on the table. The cups were steaming and as she expected, he made sure to add the marshmallows. He had said that it was a favorite of his and his son’s. It was something that the three of them had in common, she thought with a smile.

Raymond was about to sit down with her when the phone rang. He sighed audibly. “Who could it be at this time? Excuse me, please.”

“Don’t worry about me. I have cookies.” He grinned and she watched him head back to the kitchen. She loved his smile. She was quite pleased with herself whenever she got him to exercise those dimples.

The hot chocolate was still steaming so she did indeed nibble on a cookie. The lights could wait a little bit. She settled back into the couch and looked around the house. She wondered if there was mistletoe in those boxes to hang up somewhere. Where would the best place be? Catching him off guard might be fun. She pondered this for a bit, and then she heard Raymond laughing gently in the other room. That got her attention and she listened a bit more carefully. She felt a little guilty about trying to make out the conversation, but his tone of voice sounded conspiratorial. This was the second time she had heard him speaking on the phone in this way. Earlier this week she had walked into the shop at lunchtime and overheard the latter part of a conversation. He seemed to hurry off the phone once she arrived as well. He quickly offered that it was a customer, and he looked uncomfortable.

She heard him hang up, and she quickly put down her cookie and picked up her hot chocolate. She took a sip as he walked in.

“Sorry about that,” he said as he sat down next to her. “How’s the hot chocolate?”

“Mmm, it’s good,” she said and licked the chocolate off of her lips. “Who was that on the phone?” She tried to sound innocent, and wasn’t sure if she succeeded.

“Oh! No one important. Just a supplier calling about a part I ordered. The shop was closed so he called here.” He sipped his cup of hot chocolate.

It was a plausible explanation, but his tone of voice… She hated that this worried her, and the unwelcome thought that entered her mind was that perhaps he was speaking to his ex-wife? Could they somehow reconnect? It had been years since the divorce. It couldn’t be possible. Could it?

“Penny for your thoughts,” Raymond said.

“Oh, it’s nothing… just daydreaming,” she didn’t like that she was keeping this feeling from him, but she would surely feel foolish if this was all in her imagination.

“Belle, you can tell me anything you know. Whenever you like,” he said, softly, and the way he looked at her made her suspicions drift away. 

She nodded, and leaned into him. “I guess... I guess I had a bit of a feeling that you’ve been keeping something from me. I know it’s silly…”

“Hey… hey,” he said. He placed his cup on the tray and put his warm hand on her cheek. He tilted her head up to look at him and gently pulled her closer. “It isn’t silly… I am keeping something from you.”

She tried to lean back away from him, but he laughed and she looked at him quizzically. 

“I’m trying to keep your Christmas present a secret!”

“That was about my Christmas present?” 

He laughed, and nodded. “Now don’t you worry, you’ll find out what it is soon enough… that’s if I manage to procure it that is.”

She relaxed in his arms, and he pulled her closer into his embrace. She felt him kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I was suspicious.”

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about. I’m quite the boring sort, let me assure you.”

She smiled. “I find you anything but boring. Quite the opposite, actually.” The way he was rubbing her back was taking her mind completely elsewhere. She tugged at his necktie, “Will we be decorating upstairs at all?”

He leaned down and kissed her softly. He tasted of hot chocolate. “I think there’s definitely something we can do upstairs.”

She laughed out loud. “See? I told you. Definitely not boring.”

*****

It was Christmas Eve and he wished he was anywhere but David Nolan’s house. Raymond of course wanted to accompany Belle to the Nolans Christmas Eve party. He just wished David would stay far away from Belle. They had spent nearly every afternoon together at the Animal Shelter for the entire month of December. He visited once, and they had decorated the place, and brought toys and cozy things for the dogs and cats to lay on. Belle said that the animals just needed love, and tried to get as many volunteers to do just that. She had recruited him for that purpose, and he did have a nice time petting dogs and cats for an afternoon. 

Raymond just didn’t like how friendly David had gotten with Belle. He called her fairly often with Animal Shelter updates. She was always so happy to hear from him. He tried very hard not to feel jealous. He knew he was probably making it all up in his head, but he couldn’t help it, especially with David’s history and all.

He sipped at his espresso, careful not to spill any on his three piece suit, and surveyed the Nolan’s living room. It was like half the town was jam packed into this house. Archie and Marco were predictably in a jovial conversation. LeRoy and Ruby were having some kind of drinking contest, and had attracted a bit of an audience. Belle, who was dressed in an elegant dark green velvet dress that Gold highly approved of, was talking with Mary Margaret, who was visibly pregnant and glowing. Mary Margaret was a pleasant woman, and seemed the perfect match for David. If he hadn’t been a little jealous and suspicious of David and his friendly relationship with Belle it would be hard to believe that this match between the Nolans would be anything but solid. 

Just as he had this thought David signaled something to Belle from across the room. She nodded and gave him a little thumbs up. To make matters worse, this little exchange happened just as Mary Margaret had turned to say hello to Ashley and her toddler Alexandra. Surely, he was imagining things. There was probably an innocent explanation. If he wasn’t driving he’d be finding the scotch right about now.

Belle came over. Somehow she was holding little Alexandra with Ashley following right behind her. “Raymond, we were just talking about taking bets about Mary Margaret’s baby. What do you think? Boy or Girl?”

Raymond went with his first thought. “I’m going to say a girl. Put me down for that.” Belle and Ashley laughed. 

“We were thinking the same thing,” Ashley said, and took Alexandra from Belle’s arms. The baby was starting to get fussy. “It’s getting late. Way past her bedtime.”

“You know Raymond, I think I’m about ready to go too. How about you?”

“Yes, I think this coffee is giving me the jitters. I fear I might not be able to sleep tonight.”

“Oh, that might not be such a bad thing.” She winked at him and led him to say their goodbyes to their hosts and a few of the other guests. 

*****

When they returned to Raymond’s home on the outskirts of town, they found a wrapped up Christmas gift on the stoop. Belle watched as Raymond picked up the gift. “This is odd who would…” He read the little card on top, “Happy Christmas, signed Moe French.” 

Belle was amused by his stunned expression. “Well he was very happy with the gift I gave him. I told him how you took extra care in restoring it.”

They walked inside, and Raymond unwrapped the gift. It was a large poinsettia. He inspected the leaves and pulled apart the stems. He looked at Belle and explained, “Checking for listening devices, or explosives…”

Belle frowned at him. “Give me that! Honestly…” she took the plant from him and placed it next to the Christmas tree. 

“Well you can’t blame me,” he said with a shrug.

“I think my father’s grudgingly starting to like you.” She stood back and looked at the tree with the poinsettia next to it and the few presents underneath. “We should take a picture together right here tomorrow morning,” she said. She turned and Raymond had gone to the small bar in the dining room and poured himself a scotch. 

“Belle, I need to talk to you about something.” He took a swig of the drink. This sounded ominous. He poured her a glass of scotch as well. 

She took the offered drink and had a tiny sip. He motioned for her to come sit with him in the dining room. She was getting worried now. 

“I’ve been watching you and David together. You seem to get along very well. All that time at the Animal Shelter and on the phone.”

Belle raised an eyebrow. She didn’t like the sound of this. “He’s a good guy… Raymond, where are you going with this?”

He took another sip, and cleared his throat. “He’s handsome, tall, and all of that, and you’re beautiful…”

“Are you… are you suggesting that we are somehow seeing each other?” she asked, incredulous. Where in the world was this coming from?

His eyes grew wide, but she continued, “Do you honestly believe that I would be having an affair with a married man, whose wife is having his baby, while I’m actually with you?”

Raymond started waving his hands in protest. “No… no, no, not at all!”

“Then what were you saying, Raymond? I mean, I’ve had the thought that you might still have feelings for your ex-wife, but it was silly and fleeting, and I told you when I was feeling insecure…”

“Oh, I assure you, I don’t have feelings for Milah.”

“Fine. What were you getting at about me and David then?” It was her turn to take a swig of the scotch.

Raymond sighed. “Oh Belle, you’re so lovely. You deserve someone more like David. I envy him. We both come from a similar background. We both grew up on a farm, and he became the taller, stronger, handsome, manly type. He’s like a real life Prince Charming. Meanwhile, I got thrown off a horse and injured myself for life. I’m no Prince Charming. I’m more like the town monster, and for some inexplicable reason you are with me. I just think sometimes that I’m just not good enough…”

“Raymond Gold, I have half a mind to grab your gift when it gets here and just go home. What do I need to say or do to convince you that I love you, you silly man. Someone like David is not for me… not for more than friendship. He’s… too bland. I need layers, my love, and you have them.”

He stared at her dumbfounded. She hadn’t said that she loved him before, but it was true, and perhaps this was exactly the time he needed to hear it. However, this didn’t stop her for wanting to make him squirm a bit more for suggesting that she and David were a potential item. “And what about you and those phone calls. Were they really about my present? Is it there under the tree?” She pointed intensely at the tree in the living room.

Raymond breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, it is. Well there are a few over there, but the one wrapped in gold is the important one.” He got up and took her hand and brought her over to the tree. “Please sit.” She sat down on the couch and waited with a stern expression. She wasn’t terribly angry with him, but she wanted him to stew just a little bit. She understood that he felt a little insecure, but she hoped that she reassured him with her earlier statement.

He handed her the thin box wrapped in gold. “I’m sorry, Belle. Truly. I didn’t mean to upset you. I was being a jealous, insecure idiot.” He sat down next to her, and nudged her with his shoulder. “Forgive me?”

She fought the smile that ended up on her face. “I forgive you.” He kissed her on the cheek and nuzzled her neck. 

“I love you too, you know,” he said, quietly in her ear. She felt warm at hearing those words for the first time. He looked into her eyes. “You can open your gift now.”

She unwrapped it, and opened the box to reveal a small picture frame. The photo inside it was of a smiling boy with tousled brown hair in his early teens. It was Raymond’s son Neal. He held up a large book with the title Her Handsome Hero.

“It’s a picture of Neal, and… my favorite book. Oh he looks so happy. I love it, but I’m not sure that I understand completely.”

Raymond took her hand. “Neal has been the one I’ve been talking to on the phone. He’s been helping me get your present. It’s that rare illustrated copy of Her Handsome Hero that you told me about. He found it in New York. We bought it for you, and he’s going to be bringing it to you himself. He’s arriving on New Year’s Eve. His mother finally let him travel on his own. He’s very excited to meet you.”

Belle felt the tears well up in her eyes. “Oh Raymond, but this is wonderful. So wonderful. I can’t wait. Oh may we call him first thing tomorrow morning to thank him and tell him how much I’m looking forward to meeting him?” 

Raymond nodded, and hugged her tightly. “I have a feeling we both feel a little bit silly about earlier.” Belle laughed and wiped away her tears. She stood up to prop up the picture frame near the tree. They both sat down and looked at it hand in hand.

At that moment the doorbell rang. “What in the world?” Raymond stood up but Belle pulled him back down.

“I’ll get it. It’s your Christmas gift.”

“They make deliveries at this time of night?”

“Well it’s a special delivery.” She opened the door and pulled in the red wagon she had used earlier in the month. Inside was a large box with green holiday wrapping and an open top. She pulled the cart in front of him. “I think we’re going to be glad that Neal is coming for more than one reason. We might need a little bit of help.”

Raymond stared up at her as she pulled out a furry little black and white puppy. Indeed it was one of the puppies he was playing with at the shelter. She put the puppy in his lap. “Belle… I…”

“I know they say that you shouldn’t give puppies as gifts, but you talk about the sheepdogs you had as a kid with such love. And you seemed to have such a connection with this puppy. David and I kept talking about it, and that’s why he kept calling, by the way. Aaand David was the one that just dropped him off.”

She saw Raymond deflate a bit in realization, but the puppy made him smile immediately after.

“I just had to bring him for you. I filled out all the adoption paperwork. I’ll keep him if you don’t want him, but I can come over as much as you want to help out. Even stay over as much as you want.” She hoped it wasn’t an unwelcome hint. Perhaps it was a bit fast to suggest a permanent living arrangement, but these weekends they had spent together were wonderful, even with tonight’s miscommunication and misunderstanding.

Raymond had the biggest smile she had seen on his face. He was petting the puppy and it was squirming and kissing his chin. “Oh I think he can stay,” he said. He looked up at her. “And you can stay as long as you want.”

“Is forever, OK?” She laughed and flopped onto the couch next to him. They didn’t get much sleep that night, thanks to the puppy, and that was just fine. They had many more holidays to spend together in the future.

The End.

[zerot0hero]

ALL IS FAIR IN LOVE & WAR - POST FLOATING LANTERN GALA SELF PARA (MAY 2020)

tw: heart break, betrayal, self pity, revenge(?), 

It was already dark when Hercules left the Gala, he descended down the stone steps with his hands in his pockets to the curving line of parked cabs waiting to pick up fares. He didn’t feel like talking to anyone, he could have turned back and found Oliver amid the crowd to confide in but that meant risking seeing Megara-- and she was the one person he really couldn’t bring himself to talk to right now. He stood at the bottom of the entrance, turning back around to face it, wondering if leaving had been the right choice? He could have stayed and danced with Pascal, had idle chit chat and a drink with Kit, made sure Oliver didn’t bring himself to any harm or actually had the chance to wish the Princess a Happy Birthday… but his heart was no longer in it. 

With a disappointing sigh he turned back around and began to make his way to the end of the property, unkownling missing the beautiful sight of lanterns rising in the sky behind him. Had he stayed it might have been a sign of hope, but now in the chilled air and soft breeze he continued to walk towards Downtown Elias. Every store was closed, every street he passed was almost empty apart from a few bars where people stood outside smoking, there were very little cars on the road so as he passed each streetlamp alone on the way to his apartment he tried to count them. Hercules would have done anything to distract himself of thinking about Megara, about how beautiful she looked in her purple dress, about how she blushed when he placed the corsage on her wrist, about how close she was to him when they slow danced and about how he wished that moment could have last forever. 

Much to his dismay the magical evening came to a disturbing end when Megara confessed the truth to Hercules, that she was working for his Uncle Hades, the guardian of the Underworld. As Megara spilled the painful truth everything began to make sense to him, being stolen from Mount Olympus as a baby and stripped of his God Title, Megara taking a keen interest in Herc and his life, Hades being extra quiet. He did not have to raise a finger when he was making Herc’s dear Megara do all the dirty work. Hercules was angry, furious even, more livid than he had ever been in his entire life. He felt anger, betrayal, hurt and disappointment all at once, however it was his own fault for disregarding his training and letting himself become distracted by a modern day Siren, luring him to his death by deranged Uncle. 

Philoctetes had tried to warn Hercules in the past about the effects of beautiful women on a man's brain but he had waved them off with little concern. Hercules had never had any luck with women until Megara and that was only because she literally did not have a choice but to flirt with him. As grateful as Hercules was for her warning about Hades trying to kill him he could not work out if that was part of the plan? Was he supposed to know this, or did Megara really risk her own soul for him? He wanted to believe there was goodness in her heart, that she was really only doing Hades bidding against her will… but then Herc had to remember Hades did not take her soul for nothing, Megara had willingly trusted him for a favor. And could a person who trusted someone like him, a monster who kidnaps and tries to assassinate innocent children, be a person worth trusting at all? His heart and head were being torn apart. 

As Hercules reached his apartment he beelined for the small kitchen decorated in white marble and black appliances. Opening the liquor cabinet he reached for a short glass and the bottle of Ouzo, a heavy and dangerous drink if you have too much, Greek liquor. He placed them both on the counter and began to pour a large measure into the glass, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt and dropped his jacket over a dining chair as he walked with his glass to the living room. Slumping onto the couch in the darkness Hercules could see the faint glow of the stars in the sky-- not stars, lanterns. Some of them must have been let off late, he wondered if Megara took part, his friends, what they had hoped for-- and realised his own wish would have been incredibly selfish. 

Hercules wanted Megara to love him. He wanted unconditional love, the promise of a future, vacations to cancun, spending too much money on chocolate on St. Valentine’s day. He wanted the lazy sunday lie-ins, brunch by the seafront, to carry all of her bags when she went shopping. He wanted bad movie dates, to get soaked in the rain with her and give her his jacket, to order an extra set of fries at dinner in case she changed her mind and tried to eat his. He wanted the movie trope romance, all the good and all the bad because Hercules wanted so badly to be loved by Megara the way he was beginning to fall in love with her. He shut his eyes and pictured her standing alone on the dance floor with tears in her eyes, now he felt like the monster for leaving her there. 

“Oh Megara-- you are my weakness…” he sighed to himself, swirling the liquid around his glass. He was conflicted, on one side Hercules wanted nothing to do with her anymore. To rip off the bandaid and cut all ties… but on the other side he knew he could not let her be bound to Hades for the rest of her life. No matter what her part was in his Uncle’s plan being held by your will was an extortionate price to pay for asking a God for a favor. He couldn’t walk away from the situation knowing that harm could come to his dear, dear, Megara. If nothing else she deserved a clean slate, even if that meant their flirtationship would never evolve to anything more. Even if it meant she would run away to Tasmania and he would never see her again, helping her was the only option he had. 

Hercules downed the liquor with a quick flick of his wrist and hissed as the alcohol ran down his throat, leaving behind a burning sensation. He had no time to wallow in his own emotions and self-pity, if his Uncle was truly coming for him and if he wanted to save Megara from the fate he barely escaped as a child he needed to act fast. Prepare, train, find allies, create an impenetrable plan that would stop his Uncle once and for all-- and most importantly ensure Megara would be safe and sound. He stood up, grasping at the wall for balance and wobbled his way towards the desk at the end of his room, reaching for a pad of paper and a pen he began to write exactly how he was feeling before he forgot. 

When he was finished he folded up the letter and placed it in a small white envelope to deliver it the next morning. He kicked off his shoes and closed the blinds in his bedroom seeing the sky begin to change from a light purple to a bright orange in the distance indicating dawn-- how long had been up? He flopped onto the bed still in his shirt, socks and trousers and begged for sleep. Just a few hours left of normality before he would get up and start his new mission: Destroy Hades. 

Dear Megara, 

Aplogises for not contacting you sooner I wanted to text you but the temptation to call you was too great… and I didn’t think that would be wise for me to do at this time.

I wanted to apologise for ditching you at the gala. It was wrong of me to act so rash and leave you there. I was in shock. Finding out my uncle wants to harm me was a hard pillow to swallow but finding out you have working with him was what really stung. I understand the nature of your agreement and I apologise for how he chooses to make his demands – I promise not all gods are as cruel. 

What I really wanted to confess to you is perhaps why I reacted the way I did. You see Megara… I was falling for you hard, fast and stupid. I would have done anything you asked me to, which in hindsight is probably better that you know this now rather than earlier. This is why I felt so betrayed and why I was so hurt. I guess what I am trying to say is that I think I was in love with you – and I foolishly thought you might have been in love with me too. 

I will keep my word and try to save your soul from Hades, you deserve better than to be treated like a pawn in a game between Gods. Please understand why I cant see you anymore. 

I am sorry that it has to be this way. I hope that I can retrieve what is rightfully yours so you have the power to make your own choices once again. Hold onto that hope if you find it difficult. 

Thank you for the light you brought into my world . I will miss your smile. 

All my best, 

Hercules.

[loquaciousquark]

29th Drakonis. A bit chilly, but mostly grey and choked with foundry smoke, so thick this week I’ve been finding soot on all my windowpanes, both inside and out, which is odd now that I think about it

Well, that’s the last sword away for–oh, what’s his name. Taarbas, Fenris tells me: that Qunari warrior who’s been lurking about in one of the Hightown squares for the last several months. The one who wanted the dead Qunari’s swords/souls back so they could be taken care of properly. They were scattered all over the city, the Coast, Sundermount–I don’t even remember any Qunari wandering up that mountain, just Tal-Vashoth!–but my compulsive heroic magpie tendencies have come to bear really meaningful fruit at last, and all dozen swords are now safely on a ship back to Par Vollen, and I no longer must worry I’ll find a dead Qunari warrior on my doorstep some sunny morning.

Well, not Taarbas, at least. Knowing how this city feels about outsiders (and me in particular), who knows what the postman might deliver with the milk one morning?

He gave me a staff in thanks, which I thought was very odd. I may be basalit-an, but I’m also saarebas unbound, so I was rather surprised to be handed one of the most well-made staves I’ve seen in years without even a whispered suggestion of face-stitching or chained collars. (I asked Fenris, a bit masochistically, if he thought I might pull off the style of those collars; got a black look and a very sour reminder that Danarius used to chain him up like a Qunari pet, so he was hardly qualified to comment on their appearance. Damn and blast, even if he was back reading his book in minutes without even so much as a furrowed brow.)

Still, Taarbas said it was my soul now, and I ought to care for it as such. It’s racked by the fireplace at the moment–I can see it if I lean back in my chair–but for something that ought to be a reflection of the deepest part of me, it’s awfully dangerous-looking. And beautiful, too, but that’s as should be expected, aha.

I can’t decide if I should be insulted or pleased. Knowing the Qunari, perhaps both.

4th Cloudreach. Watery sky, watery seas, watery afternoons. Everything is damp and sticky, but at least it’s still cool

Apologized to Fenris this morning over breakfast for that rotten saarebas comment the other day. He stared at me like I’d grown another head–it had passed out of his mind the minute I’d said it, he told me, and he was more annoyed I’d brought it back up, since it made the whole thing bigger than it ought to be. Well, fine, said I, if he was going to refuse to be offended I’d refuse to offer the apology in the first place, and he rolled his eyes so hard I was offended, and then I threw a breakfast roll at him and he took hold of my shirt-collar to kiss me, and we nearly upset the pastry table together before Sandal came in for an orange bun and rather ruined the mood.

Oh, well. Delayed gratification, and all that. We’re to go hunt down some great “ancient evil under Kirkwall” this afternoon anyway. I swear, this city has more ancient evils and lingering blood magic ritual horrors than the rest of Thedas put together.

Later

If nothing else, I’ve learned that any demon who introduces themselves by name gets a fireball right to the mouth.

Hybris, he was called, the greatest hulking pride demon I’ve seen in my entire life. I’ve never feared for all our lives as I did when that thing stood up…and up, and up, and up, and started pulling shades and lesser demons out of the floor not two levels down from my cellar.

Suffice it to say we all survived, but I’m truncating this entry on account of Aveline needing her broken wrist’s next round of healing and my dislocated shoulder is giving me fits.

Awiergan scrolls, pah. I’ll tuck them in here until I decide not to use them for Sandal’s next craft project. That’ll teach you maleficar to leave your fancy scrolls lying about where any doglord can pick them up and sneeze all over them, you clods!

14th Cloudreach. Late. Showers all day, not wet enough to soak, just enough to be irksome

Just got a frantic visit from Pelarie. Her sister is being suspected of harboring demons in the Gallows. Or consorting with, or possibly consulting–Pelarie was understandably distraught and not quite clear on the details. Jule was with her the whole time, holding her hand so tight her knuckles were white. It’s good there’s no question of her support.

Anders and I are going in just a few minutes. I haven’t touched something like this in years–longer since I’ve done it with him–but this one’s different, and I want no chance of another Alrik situation in those tunnels.

Mother isn’t around to need protecting anymore, after all. Orana and Bodahn understand the risks and have given me leave to go. I sent a runner to Fenris’s mansion, for whatever that’s worth. He didn’t come.

I’ve just heard the door, and I can hear Anders’s voice downstairs. There’s already a crackle to it I don’t like.

Well, we’ll see.

Late. Early, rather

Success. Pelarie’s sister and her sister’s only friend, a little boy of fifteen or sixteen, are off with a friend of Isabela’s (Samson refused to meet us so haphazardly) to the shores of West Hill, and then to a family near Calenhad who is known to be friendly.

Thank goodness they weren’t in the cells yet. Nothing we could have done if they’d already been moved. Being in those narrow stone hallways, though, even if only just for a minute or two…

Ugh. All my hairs are standing on end just at the memory of it.

They looked so young, standing on that ship. Her hair was falling out of its plait and his eyes were huge in the dark. Neither of them had proper cloaks for the weather, though the captain said she’d have something belowdecks they could use until they got safely across the water.

Fenris was here when I got home. He and Pelarie and Jule were all sitting in the great room together in silence, looking very tense; though at least Pelarie and Jule grew relieved as I told them how it had gone. No details yet, for their sakes–I’m certain Meredith will hunt this–but I gave Pelarie her sister’s note and the hug she had me promise, and then they went home, much more…well, cheerful’s not the right word. Less afraid she’d be branded by dawn, anyway.

I thought Fenris would be angry. I didn’t want to meet his eyes, even though I could feel them boring into the side of my head. Still, I’d decided I wasn’t going to run away–Maker knows we’ve had enough of that between us–and so for several minutes we sat there like very quiet little statues while he looked very hard at me and I looked very hard at my gloves, which were very muddy but (for once) blood-free.

Eventually, when I thought perhaps we both might really turn to stone for all the good we were doing, he asked if I’d gone alone with Anders.

Yes, I told him. There are very few people left in or near the city that can be trusted with these last paths that go so deep into the Gallows. I don’t think we’ll be able to use this one again, and I told him that too.

I did tell him I’d tried to send for him, but he hadn’t been home. He said that regardless, I hadn’t waited. That was true.

We sat there in silence for another few minutes; then he shifted, restless as a horse, and said he’d realized something was amiss when I didn’t come to Wicked Grace. Anders we no longer expect, not with any regularity, but me…he’d come here after and found Jule & Pelarie in the great room, and Orana and Bodahn sitting solemnly in the kitchen, and he’d pieced together enough to know where we must have gone.

He’s not angry about Pelarie’s sister, not really. I mean, he is a little, because my assertions that her sister is in fact demon-free are not wholly sufficient for him to allow two untried mage-children loose into the world without supervision, but that’s not what upset him most.

He truly thinks Anders is mad. Dangerous–deadly, even, and deadly to me as much as a templar alone in Darktown.

I wish I could disagree. Anders’s eyes were blue tonight at every step through that tunnel, and more than once I saw the reflection of that blue fissured light when the water got above our ankles. I won’t pretend there weren’t times when he’d speak with two voices, and I found myself very much wishing I had Fenris or Aveline or Sebastian at my back.

But when we had those two on the ship, and I looked over at Anders where we stood in the shallows, he… His eyes were the proper color then. He had a faint smile on his mouth, and he looked so much like his old self for the first time in ages, and he looked…

Flames, he looked so tired. Slumped on his staff, his black coat hanging off his shoulders, just…wrung down to the bone. But he looked like Anders, and when he turned to me and thanked me for giving him a good one to go out on, I nearly wanted to cry.

I don’t think Fenris’s opinion was altered by my telling. But I told him the truth, and he does not hate me, and though he did go to his own home tonight to sleep he gave me a rough kiss on the cheek before he left.

I can hear birds outside my window. And the curtains are grey now, instead of black, so it must be closer to morning than I thought. I wish I could sleep.

I keep thinking about how much Anders has changed. I went back to some of my earlier journals and it’s almost as if he were a different person…I can’t imagine him dancing the Remigold with me now, no matter how I might beg. How I miss him! I hadn’t realized how much. Standing next to him tonight in the bay was the first time I’d felt like I’d spoken to him in years. And now I’ve gone and smudged the whole burning paragraph trying to wipe off the snotty tearstains, so serves me right.

It’s not that I’m the same either, I know. Neither is Fenris, nor Varric, nor Merrill, nor anyone except maybe Sebastian, and even he’s talking about returning to Starkhaven now where he’s never before. I can’t even say that we’ve all moved in a positive direction, between my mother and Merrill’s mirror and Sebastian’s business with the Harimanns and even Isabela’s trial with the Arishok. We’re all a bit more cracked, a bit more worn than we were before. We all have scars. But Anders…Anders has made himself nothing but scars. Nothing but open wounds and bleeding Fade out every inch.

Vengeance, he told me. Not justice.

I don’t think I can pull him back from this.

21st Cloudreach. Warmer today, only light mists this morning and not a drop of rain since brunch

Odd missive from Hubert today regarding the Bone Pit. I’m not wholly sure what it means aside from calamity (at least according to Hubert’s skewed scale), but Varric & Fenris & I are going to go meet Aveline at his stand and see what’s doing. I need to go drop off the last of Solivitus’s orders while I’m out anyway, and today’s the day for Gamlen’s weekly basket, so I think we’ll just make a round of it.

Toby has gotten himself into the neighbor’s hedge again. I can see his furry arse sticking straight up from here. Maker, that dog

23rd Cloudreach

We fought a high dragon, and we killed her, because she killed almost every miner left in the Pit.

She was so deadly and so beautiful.

I didn’t want to kill her. But those miners–I told them. I told them they would be safe, and now they’re dead. And I have to write to each one of their families to tell them.

She had to die, I know. But oh, Maker, how much less wonder is there in the world now for it?

26th Cloudreach. Warmer still, sunny, light clouds

I’m having Sol make me an amulet from a drop of her blood. I’ll carry her with me from here on, even if it’s less lofty travel than she’s used to. Fenris thinks I’m being a fool, but that’s only because she shook him in her teeth like a rag doll and broke almost every one of his ribs, so he’s hardly being objective about the situation.

Varric’s been telling the story every time I walk into the Hanged Man lately. I’m in such a knot over the whole mess–I’ve wanted all my life to fight a dragon, and it was a glorious fight, I can’t deny it. My heart still races when I think of swinging up onto her back and getting the staff-blade of my soul (thank you, Taarbas) up under her scales, digging my heels in until I could blow lightning down her spine to make her let Fenris go.

It was a glorious fight, even if the start of it had more death than it ought.

It’s just…I’ve only just now realized I’d rather fly as a dragon than fight one.

6th Bloomingtide. Getting hotter, I can feel it. The promise of heat, the promise of baking like a beached flounder under the northern sun

Odd thing happened last night. And by “odd,” I mean “a crazed dwarf broke in and tried to murder me in my sleep.”

Fenris has been staying almost every night since the dragon–not for prurient reasons, alas for me, but because his whole torso is a glorious purpling green and he can barely walk. For my good fortune, though, that meant he was thankfully there to hear the bedchamber door click, jolt upright, grunt at his own jolt which woke me up, and spur the lyrium bright enough he could reach over and smack the blade that would have skewered me astray. I’ve got a magnificent scrape going down one shoulder where the dagger’s point still caught me, but I’m alive to write this, so it’s acres better than it might have been.

By that time I was cogent enough to roll off the bed and get fire going in both hands. I could hear Fenris fighting through the pain to get himself up on the other side, but now I could see the dwarf in the firelight, and he looked…

I don’t even know how to describe it. He was pale, pale as if he hadn’t seen the sun in years, and he had a black scraggly beard with patches missing. And his eyes were milky grey, all across iris and pupil alike, so dense I don’t know how he saw a thing to stab at. He had no expression. No rage, no fear, no violence. Just a flat mouth and straight black eyebrows.

“I need the blood of the hawk,” he said, rough as rocks, and came at me again with the dagger. Which is rude, if nothing else, because I happen to be using all my blood at the moment, thank you very much.

Anyway, once I was on my feet it was much more an even fight, even with Fenris hardly able to heft his punches. I kept his attention long enough for Fenris to come around and clock him on the temple at the same time he took out both his knees; then I came after and planted my bare hand on his face and held it there until he stopped moving.

I don’t like killing that way. It’s messy and agonizing and it’s a bad death no matter how you slice it, but he was in my bedroom with a knife and Fenris with every rib broken, and I couldn’t take the chance. What made it infinitely worse is that this dwarf didn’t even scream. He just…died.

Ugh, my skin is crawling all over again. Regardless, my arm was the only casualty, so I tore off the rest of my shirtsleeve and tied it up with Fenris’s help, though now that the rush of battle had worn off he was nearly toppling off his feet and he kept catching his breath when he moved. He had to sit on the side of the bed and wait with the body while I raced downstairs and checked on the rest of the household.

And on that note, Maker bless my beautiful, wonderful, perfect dog. He’d herded Orana, Bodahn, and Sandal all into the kitchen, where they’d locked the door, and when I opened it without thinking (and without introducing myself) he came tearing at me like a fiend from the Void to rip out my throat. I’ve never been on the receiving end of that horrible snarl before. Maker, I’m so proud of him.

Toby realized who I was before killing me, which is good, and settled on whipping tight circles around my knees until I sent him up to sit with Fenris. Orana was less panicked than I’d expected–though they were all a bit rattled, as was I–and then I realized with Hadriana’s household, strangers that burst in at night and threatened a slave’s life might not be all that uncommon.

I told them it was safe and sent Bodahn to find a guard so long as he didn’t leave sight of the house. He did bother to put a proper jacket and boots on, though he forgot to take off the tasseled nightcap, which I didn’t realize until I saw him turn out the door around the corner and the tassel flew out behind. Orana made tea for everyone and Sandal immediately went back to bed, though not before murmuring about hawk’s blood and making me a fair way nervous.

So the guard came, and then she went and called more guards, and they went and called more guards, and the long and short of it is I’ve had a half-dozen strangers in my bedroom since midnight and Fenris and I are both still in our bloody pajamas.

I told Brennan not to wake Aveline until a right reasonable hour, so at least one of us will have had some sleep, but the way word spreads in this city I expect Varric has heard already.  I’m sure he’ll be along shortly to get his nose in the business if nothing else. The sun’s just now risen, so we can see a fair bit more than the lamplight allows (I forbade them from burning down my curtains with open torches–if I’ve managed to keep them unsinged so far, no guardsman’s errant hand is going to turn them into cinders now). He looks just as pale and eerie in daylight as he did in the dark. Almost moreso.

I don’t know what all this means. I have a feeling it’s more than just one mad dwarf with a vendetta, but until Varric comes I don’t think we’ll glean anything more from his body. There’s no letters, no marks, no tattoos, no orders…nothing. At least, nothing we can find. Maybe Varric will have more luck.

Maker, I’m tired. Fenris is sitting stiff as a poker on the library sofa beside me, but I think that’s the broken ribs more than any pique at the attack. Or, Void, maybe it’s both. I don’t know. He tried to read a bit, but we were both too distracted by the thumps from my rooms, so instead we’ve been sitting here twiddling our thumbs and watching the sun come up. And occasionally making sure the other’s alive, just to check.

He said that it reminded him of Tevinter. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t elaborate, but I know enough about what being Danarius’s bodyguard entailed that my heart cracked a bit. Not that I told him that. Instead I told him that next time someone came for the silver of the wolf I’d be happy to be his beautiful, powerful midnight protector and erstwhile lover in turn, though I couldn’t do much about the lyrium, and I’d even let him kiss me after if he wanted.

He smiled at that, and he did let me kiss him, though he hissed and clutched at his ribs when he tried to lean into it. Poor man. I’m fairly certain this fight re-cracked a few of them, but I don’t dare ask to get a good look until the guards leave. Not that they’d report me (I don’t think, anyway–certainly Brennan and Donnic wouldn’t, and I’ve given the rest enough ginger snaps over the years to win at least some good favor), but the last thing I’d ever do is work with the lyrium while strangers were near. I may have a healthy love of spectacle, but that’s outside even my métier.

Well. Sometimes you have rats in the cellar, sometimes you have murderous dwarves in the bedroom. Just depends on your infestation, I guess.

Toby’s come to tug at my pants leg. You don’t need to go outside again, it’s still early. Ah, I hear Varric in the foyer. Now we’ll get somewhere!

Later

The Vimmark Mountains, Varric says, from some notes he uncovered that we missed. Worse, he’s heard from some of his contacts who deal with the Wardens that some of these—these creepy dwarf murderers have been lurking near Stroud’s camps at the base of the mountains as well.

If they’re going after Carver, I’ll scorch every hill and rise bald until the last of them’s flushed into the daylight.

Blood of the hawk. If that’s what they’re after, Andraste, I’ll bring them every last drop.

[beautifulletdownfics]

harry is fine and nina is fine too: part iii

Nina's late.

She's late and thanks to the puddle she managed to plonk through when crossing the road, she also has wet shoes and socks. The rain trickles a path down the back of her neck as she tripple checks crossing the street, little smatterings making their way onto her face as her umbrella fights off the latest gust of wind.

Leaving her class this afternoon, something in her had thought it would be nice to walk home instead of jumping on the subway like she usually would. She missed the fresh, crisp air of Blackpool and some part of her liked the painful chill that sunk through her. There was something nostalgic about the cold and the wet, and she was missing England with a newfound force since seeing Rodger and Adriana the day before.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Nina calls down the hallway at the front door, “New Yorker’s don’t know how to walk when it's raining. Have you started without me?"

"Just put the meat in, don't stress," Jane was leaning up against the kitchen bench waiting for Nina to appear from the entranceway, "We said seven anyway."

The clock on the wall read 6:45pm.

Nina frowns, "I'm on dinner, I left on time, but you people lose your shit in this weather."

"We're not used to it," Jane defends lightly, "Wine?"

"Please," Nina nods, pulls off her coat and scarf and hangs them over a dining chair, "Is Sarah in yet?" she watches Jane shake her head, "I'll be right back."

Their apartment is tiny, and it's probably too small for the three of them who share it. But it works somehow. Jane and Sarah had been housemates for years before Nina moved into the tiny study, or "third bedroom". It felt nice to move into an established home unit, the three girls did their Friday night dinners once a month and Sunday brunches, and they kept up with each other's lives. It helps ease Nina's homesickness.

It doesn't matter to Nina that her room isn't much bigger than the size of her bed, with only room to shuffle around one side of it to the tiny standing wardrobe in the corner, also touching the bed. She spends most of her days out, and she has found herself suddenly comforted by small spaces. Nina hides in this tiny room on weekend afternoons. She feels as though her world is incredibly small, instead of feeling the chronic and overwhelming sprawling expanse of thousands upon thousands of miles between where she is and where she is from.

"How was work?” Nina asks Jane when she returns to the kitchen, pulling potatoes from a tub under the sink and making sure none of them rolls off the bench before going on the hunt for other vegetables suitable for roasting.

"Fine," Jane replies, "My boss went home at lunch, so we all took off early as well. Did you have a good time with your friends last night?”

Nina’s heart swelled and sunk at the same time if that was possible, “It was so lovely to see them. Saying goodbye sucked.”

Jane looks at her sadly, taking a seat at their small dining table so Nina could monopolise the use of the whole kitchen space. Nina pretends she doesn’t notice the look. She’s tried hard all day not to dwell too much on what it might mean that I was so painful to say goodbye to Rodger. She’s doing her best not to think of everyone else she’s missing too.

"Oh, this one's nice," Nina comments, taking her first sip of wine. "I didn't realise how ready for a weekend I was. I heard earlier the rain is supposed to clear up overnight and tomorrow should be nice and—“

“—I'm home and I brought cake!"

Sarah barrels down the hallway, bags hanging off her arm, her collapsed umbrella raised above her head like a weapon of war. Nina rushes across to save the cake box shoved under Sarah’s arm, the familiar stamp of the bakery Sarah is a pastry chef at stamped over the top.

“It might be a touch soggy,” Sarah says quickly, accidentally hitting the hanging light with her umbrella and scaring herself, “But we can put it in the oven and fix that.”

Nina and Jane laugh at their housemate, she’s dripping wet and yet, red-faced and happy. Nina feels a lightness in her chest that had been wound too tight all day.

Maybe it was the wine.

Two more bottles appear from Sarah’s handbag, “I called both of you, did we need wine?”

Jane claps her hands together, “No but ooh goodie. Does anyone have anything in the morning?”

Nina’s laughing, and it feels good, but there’s something just a whisper from her heart, and it’s bringing tears to her eyes. Laughing with Rodger last night had felt the same, as though she was watching something she knew would disappear again very soon and there was no way to prolong it.

“Wine is probably a terrible idea for me right now,” She confesses, chopping away at the vegetables and trying to keep her voice light.

“Nina’s homesick,” Jane explains to Sarah easily.

Sarah’s dumped everything on the floor by the kitchen door and is tugging at the outer layers of her clothing, there’s a momentary pause as she recalls Nina’s friend’s from home having been in town, “How was last night?”

“Lovely,” Nina responds, “So lovely. They looked tan and happy from their honeymoon.”

“I bet they’ve missed you,” Sarah says in the dangerously disarming way that Nina can never quite match up to the raucous, loud woman she usually is. It’s a small nudge to getting further into Nina’s head.

When she first moved in, Nina had told herself that New York was a fresh start and these two new women in her life wouldn’t be getting Sad Nina. Moving in with Sarah and Jane was an opportunity to make a life in New York that wasn’t tied up in Harry. Nina didn’t want them to know what had happened to her relationship, she couldn’t dwell on it. She refused.

But before she moved in the girls had obviously Googled her to find what they would have thought would just be a Facebook page. They had just wanted to check Nina Lawrence actually existed and was a real human, but they fell upon far more than they had bargained for.

It had been an awkward few first weeks living with them. Mainly because there was no juicy break-up story. Nina had nothing bad to say about Harry.

Not a thing.

++

He lands in New York and heads straight to the apartment.

It is a minefield of Nina,. He brought it when they were together. Harry sold his place in Los Angeles— because she hated it there and would never travel with him if that was the destination—and instead, he got this apartment in New York.

She always loved this city, and the time they spent together in this apartment was always fun and romantic and settling. Hearing that Nina had moved here had been shocking, but it wasn’t a surprise she had picked New York.

Where Harry’s house in London is old and homey—with nooks and crannies, ornate finishes and a pleasant, comforting undercurrent of quintessential Englishness—the flat in New York is modern and sleek, with an open plan concept that makes Harry feel artistic and languid.

The first thing Harry does when he arrives is open three windows and take the cover off the baby grand piano Nina was furious at him for buying at the time.

He props open the cover and then sits at the bench, lifting the lid off the keys. The smell of the internal wood wafts over him slowly, and Harry tinkers with a few notes before making himself more comfortable in the seat and finding a familiar melody to play through.

He owes her his ability to play the piano so well now. Nina taught Harry herself, and now everything from his posture to the way he no longer watches his hands is wrapped up in her gentle voice, patiently correcting him while holding up his chin with delicate fingers.

Harry watches the pins inside the instrument flick in and out as he plays, striking the corresponding keys, and finally, he has the first hint of doubt hit him about being in New York.

What is he doing? If she needed or wanted him in her life she would have reached out, Nina knew she could call him for anything. Didn’t she? She had to know that.

The thing is though that Harry needs her. He’s tired of missing her. He needs to hear her voice—see her—because he misses her so much that he’s forgotten what not missing Nina feels like. What was it like to just come home and know she would be there? He wants to go back to being able to get through a writing session without having a panic attack.

In eight months of separation, Harry’s not managed to record a single song to completion. He barely makes it through singing through the demo versions. All of it is about her, and it’s like his brain can’t comprehend or sit with the knowledge that Harry and Nina are done, and he’s only ever going to be writing old memories, not making new ones with her.

Hearing from Rodger had scared him. Harry’s worried that Nina isn’t happy. Whatever Rodger saw that led to him calling Harry must have been significant.

Harry’s fingers stop on the piano keys suddenly. He has to call her. Rodger sent through a text after their phone call with Nina’s new phone number. The number Harry has saved wasn’t even right anymore.

The new one is a US number, and Harry’s hands shake, but he knows he has to do it.

He hits call and immediately wants to scream. He’s on his feet and repeating ‘fuck’ under his breath when someone—Nina—picks up.

“Hello, Nina speaking.”

Fuck.

“Nina … It’s Harry.”

“Harry?” Her voice breaks in such a subtle way he nearly misses it, he drops his chin to his chest and shuts his eyes.

“Yeah. Hi.”

Nina doesn’t say anything.

“I’m in New York, and I’d really like to see you.”

++

Nina’s glad she only had one glass of wine at dinner.

Sarah and Jane have both stopped speaking and are watching Nina with her phone to her ear, not saying anything. They heard her say her ex-boyfriend's name over the conversation about who was going to win The Bachelor.

“Nina?”

“Nina?” Jane repeats what Harry just said in her ear.

Harry.

Nina stands and walks to her room. She shuts her eyes against the closed door and tries to swallow her heart back down to its place.

He repeats her name again and then waits a moment, “Are you there?”

“Yep … You’ve got shows?” Nina hadn’t seen anything about him playing in New York, but then she’s never been brave enough to have a Google news alert for him. She’s scared of what she might see.

Harry coughs, “No. I’m here to see you. If you’ll let me.”

“Let you?”

The notion was almost as ridiculous as the idea Harry might have flown to New York purely to see her.

“You can say you don’t want to,” He sounds hurt, and Nina hates herself for it.

She shakes her head and sits on her bed, “Sorry, I … When will work for you? I’m free most of tomorrow—”

—Tonight. Can I see you now?”

Nina’s petrified. She has no idea how this is happening, how it went from being a Friday where she did all her Friday things and then came home and made Friday night dinner with her housemates, and now she’s on the phone to Harry, and he wants to see her.

She’s dizzy from adrenaline and Nina’s sure the instant she sees him she won’t be able to hold off the tears. Even hearing his voice sets her missing him on fire and fills her with longing.

“I can come to meet you if that’s easier …”

“It’s late,” He says gently, “I’ll come to you. Send me your address?”

[milkierose]

Nicotine Lips

☆❀Sequel to this little fic right here❀☆

Villain!All Might / Male Reader

Word Count: 2,387

Summary: Reader is a Male Bartender who wants a bit of spice in his life, All Might is ready to deliver

Saturday 11:00 a.m.

You opened your eyes, taking a few seconds to remember you inhabited a human vessel and then less than a second to feel pain surge from various areas on your body. Slowly rising from your bed, you looked down to your wrists and see them bruised. The back of your head and shoulders began to throb, fucking hell. You headed to the bathroom to see if there were any other marks, where the hell did you get all these from? You don’t remember having to break up a bar fight so why are you… Looking into the mirror you noticed a nasty bite mark on the crook of your neck and shoulder. Realization settled in as you recall who it was that gave you all these contusions. 

That smile, that damned smile, it was burned on the inside of your eyelids. Yet you liked what happened last night… er, this morning. At the cost of your head, wrists, sleep, your suit--wait. Your suit, your nice black cashmere suit with the red accents! You slapped a palm against your head, ow bad idea, fuck you let the cum dry up in the vest and pants for at least seven hours and there’s no way you could take that to the cleaners without getting weird looks. That was your favorite outfit too, damn it, god fucking damn it.

A hot shower and sad goodbye to your clothes later, you were sitting in your living room eating some brunch with the TV playing the news in the background. “Another sad day for our hero society, a young aspiring hero ended up passing away in the hospital earlier this morning after an encounter with a powerful villain…” The anchorwoman explains that the hero was attacked just up the street from where you worked between the hours of 12 and two in the morning. Hm... you do recall hearing a ruckus when you stepped out on your break… “A bystander managed to get a recording on their phone, the following may be disturbing so viewer discretion is advised.” A blurry video began to play, it was obvious that the owner of the phone was terrified as the image was shaky. At first it did not seem like much and the bystander was just recording the night sky. Then out of nowhere two figures came crashing down directly onto a passing car, stopping it in its tracks and making the cameraman jump. The scene was too foggy to tell but the larger silhouette was seen picking up a limp body by the head. A boisterous laughter boomed from the scary figure, then stopped suddenly as the shadow slowly turned to the cameraman. Orange-circles glinted to the person recording, the video paused in the middle of a quick motion, leaving the viewers to assume the worst became of the poor soul recording. You were always one to be apathetic towards the victims shown on the news, however this time you felt your stomach twist into knots. Here you were, thinking on the whole situation as if it was just any regular thug wanting a quickie with a stranger on the street. It had never occurred to you that he probably only pulled you in because he was on a murder high. Sexual fantasy, more like a next-morning-nightmare! You gagged, a hand swiftly covering your mouth to try and keep the bit of food you’ve consumed down in your stomach. Hopefully, no one saw him with you in the alleyway, so no one could track anything back to you and bring up any unwanted attention from the police. Originally you were going to dump the stained suit out into a dumpster but it had remains of both of your DNA, you should probably burn it at this point to leave no evidence. The nicely prepared brunch was now being dumped into the kitchen garbage, unfortunately, you had lost your appetite.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Days pass on by and soon enough the one-night fling with All Might had faded away to the back of your mind. Your coworkers and some regulars did ask if you were mugged since you looked battered up, so you just went along with the excuse that you were. Telling them you were too tough for the mugger to actually take anything and you managed to only get a few bumps and scratches from the fight. “Heh, even a quirkless son of a bitch like you can put up a fight, huh?”

That’s right, you were quirkless, you were always surrounded with people who had special abilities and could kill you instantly. However, it had the opposite effect on you than normal quirkless individuals. Your parents had enrolled you in fighting classes ever since you were very young so that you had some sort of self-defense in this quirky world and you made it a goal for yourself to never be discouraged by the fact you had no special ability. Still, to be considered the inferior phase of human evolution took its toll on your young developing brain. You recall your younger self researching the common quirks from where you were born to try and figure out if there were any late-bloomer quirks that could come along. Nothing ever emerged…

The bar was full on this rainy night, people coming in and being taken out, tonight was karaoke night which was very popular among the crowd. A gaggle of ladies in their mid-20’s were on stage singing a song from a popular popstar about a man who was so intoxicating he should have came with a warning. They were off-key, but that’s what you expect from a drunken bachelorette party, it wasn’t bad enough to cringe at but not amazing enough to cheer on. “Excuse me?” You turned to whomever it was trying to get your attention. “Yes ma’am, what’ll it be?” “A piña colada please” “Coming right up” Something fruity for a change, a perfect drink to get into a more tropical and carefree mood. A few moments and blending later you handed her the drink she ordered with a cute colorful loopy straw and tiny umbrella. The only thing really killing the fun atmosphere was the television on the other side of the bar replaying the news from this morning. The audio was kept on silent and displayed the subtitles of what the anchor couple were discussing.  More news about the fallen hero’s funeral being rained out, so it had to be delayed. The storm was getting bad and beginning to flood the streets closer to the beach. The weather woman advised citizens avoid driving to the shores and to be cautious when walking their children to school. The chitter chatter and singing were abruptly interrupted when the doors of the bar swung with a gust of wind rushing in. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed as a tall spooky figure appeared out of the night in the doorway. The people of in the bar were silent, even you were startled, but the scare began to mellow out when it turned out to just be a simple skeleton like man standing at the door. Conversations resumed and everyone’s attention was back to what they were originally doing. The man walked his way into the building, taking off his coat and handing it over to one of the attendees to let it hang dry. Other than for his midbody; his head, shoulders, and the pants up to his knees were soaking wet. He seemed, familiar, but you see dozens of new faces a night, you couldn’t possibly place where you’ve seen that face before. The blond stranger took a seat at the bar, shivering slightly from the warm air now reaching his cold body. You sauntered on over with a more generous smile this time, karaoke nights always put you in a good mood and it’s a good thing too since you couldn’t go out back for a smoke break. “What can I get for you, sir?” “Just… water for now.” His mind must’ve preoccupied with buzzing thoughts, probably not ready for an actual drink yet. You pour him a glass of water, no ice, he seemed cold enough. Water was free so there was no thought on putting on any tab of his. A few moments passed as you attended to other patrons, keeping an eye on the shivering individual. “You allergic to dairy?” You had asked the man who turned his attention to his phone. “What?” “Dairy or chocolate bad for you?” “...No?” He raised a brow at you, suspicious on the question you asked him. Why were you concerned on that, he thought. His curiosity was answered as you slid over a mug of hot chocolate his way, the smell filling your surroundings. He looked down at the beverage and then up to you. “It’s on the house, besides, you look like you could use something to warm you up on the inside.” You reached down and tossed up a can of whipped cream, catching it in the other hand without breaking eye contact with him. “Whipped cream?” The man blinked, then raised a brown with a slight smirk forming on his face. “Was I supposed to be impressed?” “Yes!” At least you’re honest. He huffed, “Sure, just a bit on top.” Your smile beamed a bit more, now you took the can and twirled it around in your hands, tossing it above your head like some sort of juggling act. You could never do this with the heavy containers of whipped cream, so if you want to be flashy you always keep the store bought cans around as well. With a final flip, you squeezed out a perfect little swirl of whipped cream onto the hot chocolate. Reaching over to the spices on your counter and sprinkling some cocoa powder on top. “One hot chocolate, on the house.” You didn’t add any rum to it since this guy doesn’t seem like the alcohol-drinking kind. “Really laying it on thick.” “Hey man, gotta try and enjoy the job somehow,” you shrugged. “Bartending not what you expected?” He asked, picking up the mug and keeping it in his hands to warm them up. “It’s not that, just been doing it for a long while now, gotta keep it spicy and interesting.” You pulled off your drying rag from your shoulder to clean some spots off of the freshly washed cups your coworker brought over. “Always get interesting characters coming in every night I’m here. To be honest, it’s never dull here, just every now and then ya need something exciting to happen.” The memory of All Might from last week returned to your mind for a split second. “Who likes a boring barman anyways?” The other made a sound of acknowledgement since his mouth was busy sipping up the hot beverage. He set it back down and licked the whipped cream off from the top of his lip. Out of habit, you handed him another napkin, you’re used to drunk people spilling drinks all over themselves so napkins go all around. His attention seemed fixated on your neck, a long finger pointed out towards you. “Something happen?” Your hand moved up to touch your neck where a dull pain arose when you did. “Ah, this was just from a fight from a mugger, nothing serious.” “Looks like a love bite to me.” His remark made your body tense up. “Love bite? Like from a partner or something? No, the guy just had a… dog quirk and bit me to try and get me to submit my wallet to him.” The lie, the liiie, it was all obviously a liiiieee. The man seemed amused by your reaction. You felt your cheeks get hot and scratched at the stubble on your jaw to try and play it off. “I should go check on other orders, call me over if you need anything else.” “Will do” With that, you returned to your bartending duties and left the scrawny person to himself.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The work shift had come to an end but the rain continued to storm through the night. This time, you decided to take a taxi back to your place so not to catch a cold. What a shame, you were hoping to at least get one smoke break but the rain just wasn’t letting you, there was no smoking room in the building either. You didn’t like smoking in your place because the stench would sink into your walls and furniture. You paid the taxi driver and walked out of the cab, jogging up to your door and unlocking it. “Shit, shit, shit” You made it in just fine but the rain was so cold. You kicked off your shoes and them off to the side, removing your coat and hanging it up. Slipping on the soft cotton slippers, you jogged over to your room to change into some clean dry clothes. You love autumn and the nice cool weather it brings but sometimes the rain can be too much to bear. Thunder roared across the land as you picked up your wet, dirty clothes and took them into the laundry room. Returning to the front where you left your shoes to properly clean them before they fully dried. As you paced to the living room to have a seat on the couch, a gust of cold wind hit you and you noticed one of your windows were open. “Oh fuck!” You ran over and quickly closed it, did you leave it open all night? You looked around to see how much water damaged was caused but… there was hardly any. Surely that wouldn’t be the case if the window was left open all night during a storm, and you didn’t open it when you arrived home, so then, wh- Footsteps of heavy wet boots behind you caused your heart to drop...Someone broke into your house when you weren’t looking and now, now you’re going to have to fight them to get them out. The night was going amazingly and now you have to deal with some burglar trying to steal from your home. Slowly you turned around, your eyes widened in horror and the color drained from your face as you saw who it was that entered your abode.

“Hey there Barkeeper, remember me?”

[swanandapirate]

A Muted Hue of Grey (4/14) -- CSBB

Summary: Emma Swan liked being a PI in Boston. It was a fun job, she had an okay income and she was a good one at that, so there was no logical reason to try and leave. Except for the fact that she wanted to, so badly. And, when she received a job offer for what seemed to be the opportunity of a lifetime, she did exactly that. Leave. Run. All the way to London. The job was simple: trailing a man called Killian Jones. Easy enough.

Well, until things get complicated, that is.

Rating: M (later mentions of violence, alcohol abuse, and sex)

Wordcount: 3604

Links: ao3 // ff.net // chapter 1 // chapter 2 // chapter 3

A/N: Eeeeeepp you guys, your feedback makes me so happy. It's been a real struggle to complete this fic with very little feedback and now I feel so spoiled <3 A cute, flirty chapter as a thank you :) The feedback that I did get these past couple of months was amazing, however, all thanks to these two crazy ladies @ofshipsandswans and @acourtoftruelove

And also thanks to @shady-swan-jones for the feedback and the art she gave in return!

-------------------------------

While giving Killian her phone number when he had asked her was a good way to keep in touch, she should probably have thought it through and asked for his number in return. Because now she was thoroughly stuck. Dependent on him, forced to be at his beck and call when he deemed the time since they had last seen each other respectably long enough to finally reach out.

Which meant she had to wait until he contacted her and considering she had literally nothing else to do, she was pretty bored. But she waited.

A day.

Another day.

She’d waited a grand total of five days before her phone had rung and showed a text from a number foreign to her phone.

Hi, Emma. This is Killian. I was wondering if you would fancy a coffee?

On the one hand, it did bring a big advantage hanging out with Killian. She wouldn’t have to follow him anymore, wouldn’t have to try and figure out what he was up to when she could simply ask him. But it was a line. There was a line and Emma did not know if she could cross it. Ethically speaking, her profession already skirted the edges of what was just and respectable, but the line was something personal; a border somewhere inside of her. This was knowingly betraying someone, playing double agent and to do that to someone who had no idea what he was involved in seemed unfair. She would do a lot to ensure that she thrived but knocking someone else down was a step too far.

Emma: When and where?

Killian: Are you always this dry in your texts?

Emma: Straight to the point, what’s wrong with that? It reminds me of back when you still had to pay by the text.

Killian: Dark and turbulent times, they were. Would 11 am tomorrow work? We could meet at Fika.

Emma: Fine by me.

Killian: See you then, Swan.

-/-

The heatwave that had tormented the country earlier that week had definitely left for good and pouring rain had taken its place. Rain, wind, and thunderstorms, but the oppressive sensation remained in the air. She loved summer storms—even though it was technically still spring. The moment when the electricity was almost tangible in the air, when the skies burst open, cool water a relief against warm and sunburnt skin. The blue flashes of lightning lighting up an orangey sky. But for the past few days, it had only rained. And rained. And, big surprise, rained. So much that the normally soothing clatter of it against her window now only bothered her and made her hanker for quiet—for the little taps against the glass to stop.

The little taps that were now attacking her umbrella as she walked. An icy blue-colored logo caught her attention and when she approached, the name of the shop in big letters of the same color became visible. She had arrived

Her head went from left to right while checking the street for any incoming traffic and when it was safe—no cars, buses, or cyclists in sight—she crossed. A couple just walked out of the coffeehouse, the two men smiling at her as they held the door open for her to enter. Emma smiled back, almost touched by the small act of kindness their gallantry brought. The couple exited and she entered.

Emma let her eyes roam and let her mind take in all of the new impressions. The inside decorations were clean and tight, nothing she’d expect a coffeehouse to be. Straight lines, bold colors. It was modern, something she never would’ve guessed watching from the outside. It looked like an IKEA showroom but on a whole different level and with a touch of hipster. She liked it. Obviously, someone with a clear vision had searched and matched furniture, had created this whole concept between four walls.

There was a colorful display of cupcakes that snatched her attention away from the decor and refocused it on the grumble of her stomach. She’d skipped breakfast—hadn’t had time to as she set her alarm for a time that had only left time room for her to dress fast and leave. Besides, it was 11 am and a Sunday—brunching was a thing. A thing mainly invented to be able to start drinking alcohol at breakfast and have it be socially acceptable, but a thing nonetheless.

“Swan!” was shouted somewhere above her and soon she saw the man to whom the voice belonged descending from a pair of stairs, his feet thumping so quickly that, before she could properly turn around, he was already standing beside her. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she returned the greeting.

“Welcome to Fika,” he beamed. “Also known as my current employment,” he admitted after a beat or two.

“A cupcake shop?”

Of course she, as PI Emma Swan, knew where he worked. But she also knew that Emma, the girl that had only recently met Killian wouldn’t know that and would have to be surprised. Or act as if she was surprised. Back to the acting, it was.

“And café. We sell really good cupcakes.”

“Okay.” Emma shrugged, accepting the explanation she didn’t really need or require. The cupcakes already looked delicious, she was sure they’d taste delicious too.

“I take care of the PR,” he continued to explain, almost trying to justify his profession.

“Of a cupcake shop and café.” She nodded while repeating his earlier words. “Got it.” She wasn’t trying to be rude or anything, but Killian’s slightly fumbling behavior about his job was keeping her from eating the aforementioned mentioned cupcakes. She’d gladly talk about it all (how he worked in a cupcake shop and a café) once she’d devoured at least one.

“We do have really good cupcakes.”

“I suppose I should try them at some point then.” A subtle hint. Some point clearly meant right now. Which Killian got, a nod confirming had gotten the message. Points to Killian.

Emma took another look at the display and singled out a couple of varieties she would not mind tasting at all.

A dark wooden door opened, revealing a pale woman with even paler hair. Her piercing blue eyes matched the color of her jumpsuit and frantically searched her surroundings for something until they stopped. They were looking for someone apparently.

“Sven!” She walked towards one of the waiters. “Where are the carrots for the carrot cupcake? Did you eat them again? How many times do I have to tell you that—” She stopped mid-sentence when her eyes caught sight of the two of them, now awkwardly shuffling on their feet as one did when they were a witness to something they were not supposed to see. “Killian! What are you doing here? It’s your day off. You couldn’t miss the sweets,” she concluded with a disapproving shake of her head, a few strands of white hair escaping her braid.

“Of course I couldn’t. Also, where else am I going to get an employee discount?” He winked.

“Nowhere because I’m your boss and I am going to keep it that way.” She turned to Emma, her white-blonde hair glowing in the dimmed and cozy lighting of the cafe. For a moment she simply watched her, her direct stare thoroughly looking her over, before her expression shifted from concentration to kindness and she smiled. “Hi, I’m Elsa.”

“Emma.”

“Nice to meet you.” She inclined her head, her braid moving against her shoulder. “Take a seat, someone will be with you right away.”

“Thanks!”

Killian’s prosthetic motioned towards the sitting area and as she walked in front of him, Emma could pick a place for them to sit. Eventually, she led them to a dark wooden circular table; not too secluded and far off from the counter but far enough to avoid the bustle of waiters moving about and customers lining up. Emma set her umbrella on the ground, hung her bag on the chair and took off her green raincoat before covering her chair and bag with it. Killian patiently waited and only sat down as she did, the both of them simultaneously scooting their chairs closer.

Here they were again, sitting across each other, having a tête-à-tête. But, while their previous encounter was an impromptu meeting, unforeseen and spontaneous, this one was planned. Agreed upon. Which meant that the stakes were considerably higher.

Killian could decide after today that he didn’t like her and wasn’t interested in spending more time with her. While her ego would most likely bruise upon hearing that, it was mostly the mission she was worried about. A lot was riding on the assumption that they would continue to hang out and she’d be able to continue this undercover assignment and if they didn’t, Emma wasn’t sure how she could fix that. She couldn’t undo her choice of approach and if he saw her trailing him, he’d surely think she was a stalker—a logical deduction. She had to make this work.

“The weather has been terrible, hasn’t it?” she asked, glancing to the big rain-stained window. “I want last week’s weather back.”

“Aye, I preferred having the sun, too.” His shoulders moved in a shrug and he cast a glance outside as well. “Oh well, you know what they say: if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”

“Sorry?” she asked while leaning closer and frowning. “Who exactly says that?”

“People?” Killian answered with his own question, a whimsical look on his face.

She laughed and his hand went up to scratch the back of his head.

“No,” she said to try and stop him from feeling sheepish. “I mean, I like it but I tend to go for my own version which is: life fucking sucks, deal with it.”

“Which is also an approach,” he agreed while smiling, “Albeit a distinctively different one.”

“That’s why you work in PR and I don’t.” Her shoulders rose. “Speaking of: what does ‘taking care of PR’ entail exactly?”

“A bit of everything,” Killian replied. “I run the social media sites, write newsletters, respond to any complaints.”

Emma took one of the menus that lay on the table and unfolded it, letting her eyes roam over all of the possible foods and drinks she could drink compiled in a classy and clean list.

“I wouldn’t believe this place has any complaints. Look at this.” She pointed at no specific part because everything had the same level of quality and refined taste in decoration, everything fit the picture and vibe perfectly.

“It rarely does. Elsa is too professional for people to even try and find something negative about this place. But some people just can’t be pleased.”

“I don’t have the right temper for PR,” Emma admitted.

She’d get frustrated with people and roll her eyes constantly which would, in turn, frustrate the other person even more and they’d end up in a never-ending cycle, or perhaps it would end with Emma fired.

“I’m a patient man. And I’d like to think of myself as quite cordial and persuasive.”

Before Emma could either confirm or deny his statement, a waitress made her way to their table, a welcoming smile directed at them. She held a little notebook in her hand and flipped it to the next blank page to take their order. She had stashed her pen behind her ear and retrieved it, pressing the top to extend the tip and having it at the ready.

Her freckles were spread all across her pale skin, adding to the innocence that seemed to radiate off of her.

“Well, who do we have here.” She tilted her head to Jones. “Why are you here? Not that you can’t be here but it’s your day off.” She looked at Emma before leaning closer to Killian. “Ooh, who’s that?”

“Anna, easy.”

The woman took a big breath and slowly released it again. Her hands went up. “It’s okay, I’m calm.”

“Perfect. Emma, this is Anna, Elsa’s sister. Anna, this is Emma, a friend of mine.”

A friend of his. Was that their label now? They’d gone from strangers to friends. It was a positive sign, one that said she was making progress and didn’t have to be that afraid of Jones not wanting to hang out anymore.

“Hi, nice to meet you!” Anna greeted her excitedly.

“Nice to meet you, too, Anna.”

“What can I get ya?” Her red eyebrows soared with the question.

“Oh, I’m not sure yet.” Emma grabbed the menu again and suddenly the clean piece of paper felt overwhelming, filled with so many options and choices.

“Take your time. Fika is really important.”

Was she describing her own coffeehouse as really important? There was nothing wrong with some confidence when it came to your business but praising it to customers like that might not leave the best impression. Killian watched Emma and seemed to have picked up on her reaction to Anna’s statement.

“Anna doesn’t mean that the coffeehouse itself is really important,” he clarified and Anna herself realized that Emma had misinterpreted her words too.

“Oh no! Elsa and I grew up on the border of Sweden and Norway, and fika is this big, almost sacred thing there. See it as a coffee break but obligatory. It’s a ritual to avoid stress and we wanted to bring some of that mentality here, in one of the most stressful cities of the world, hence the name.”

“Wow, that’s nice. I really like that.”

“I really like you,” Anna responded. “You did well, Killian.”

“Just friends, Anna,” he reminded her. “I think I’ll go for an ordinary black coffee.” He brought everyone back to the matter at hand.

Right, they were ordering. Emma took another look at the menu, actually reading their options this time and trying to decide what sounded the most seductive.

“I’ll have a triple chocolate cupcake and a mocha latte, please.” She looked up from the menu to Anna and smiled.

Once she finished scribbling, Anna shut the notebook again. “Coming right up,” she said with her own smile before returning to the counter.

“Apologies for Anna. She gets overly excited about almost everything but she’s also about the sweetest person you’ll ever meet.”

“It’s fine. She does seem extremely kind.” She took the menu and stored it back with the others, the table empty again.

Killian hummed along with a song softly playing on the speakers spread around the café, his fingers tapping on the wood of the table. The hum was barely there, under his breath as if he couldn’t help but take part in the music, his blood thrumming with every note.

Suddenly, he remembered he had company and the drumming brusquely stopped, so did the humming.

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit of mine,” he apologized.

“Don’t apologize. You’ve got a good voice,” Emma complimented and it was a genuine one.

“Thank you. Believe it or not, I used to be part of a band.”

The band was called Neverland, Jones was lead singer and guitarist of the band he’d founded together with three of his friends back when he was twenty-three. She didn’t have to believe him because she knew.

“Would it be bad if I said that I’m not surprised?”

Killian eyed her warily. “That is going to depend on why you’re not surprised.”

“You’ve got that whole rocker vibe going on. The tattoo, the necklace, the ever-present chest hair, the I-woke-up-like-this hair, not to mention the leather jacket,” she summed up using her fingers to count. “It either screams ‘I’m in a band’ or ‘I’m aspiring to be in a band.’”

He narrowed his blue eyes as he watched her. “I’m attempting to assess if that’s meant as a compliment or not.”

Emma lifted her hands, letting her eyebrows soar in a playful manner. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” A smirk played on her lips.

“Perhaps I would,” Killian replied, not missing a beat. Suddenly, everything felt more intense, the entire atmosphere shifted, coming down as a heavy feeling on her chest. It might’ve been his husky voice or the way he looked at her, but something was definitely happening and she had no control over it.

Before it got out of hand, she saw Anna approaching out of the corner of her eye. Emma let out a silent sigh of relief both because of the diversion and because the redhead was carrying a tray with the cupcakes she had long desired after.

“Here we are,” she said once she approached their table. Dimples appeared in her freckled cheeks as she kindly smiled before setting down the drinks. “So that’s a triple chocolate cupcake and a mocha latte for you, Emma.” Anna turned to Killian. “And a simple black coffee for you, ya big bore.”

“Oi,” he remonstrated. “Will you let me have my coffee in peace, please?”

“At least Emma got something interesting,” Anna argued, flicking one of her two auburn braids off her shoulder.

“We’re picking sides now, are we?” He crossed his arms in discontent. “And here I thought being your nice and dedicated colleague for months would put me ahead of a virtual stranger.”

“To be fair,” Emma interrupted, “my drink has chocolate and yours doesn’t, so I think it’s clear who the winner is here, Jones.”

Anna lit up and giggled when Emma joined her in making fun of Killian’s lack of originality. The two gave each other a quick high-five before Anna told them to enjoy their food and drinks and left them to be alone again.

“You’re nothing like I thought you were, Emma Swan,” Killian said while shaking his head, his lips curled into a smile.

“Is that a good thing?”

He didn’t answer, instead he took a sip of his boring coffee and the question was left unanswered, occasionally reminding Emma of its presence by buzzing in the air.

“What do you do in your off-time?” he eventually asked.

Emma did absolutely nothing in her free time. She usually had none, always busy working that she’d forget to even eat. All of her friends—she had like four, but who cared—knew that and tended to bring her food to make sure she was fed and to use as an opportunity to hang out.

“Not an awful lot,” she told him truthfully. “I’m famous for working a lot. I am going to attempt to start working out again now that I’m here. You?” She drank from her cup.

“I read a lot, like to go to museums. Like any Brit, I like watching football. Proper football,” he specified. “Not some American BS.”

“Hey,” she objected. She might not be a sports person but she was still American. “Have some respect, please. Besides, at least American football has some action going on. Soccer is pretty boring.”

“Take that back,” he threatened with his teaspoon, his eyes turning into slits.

Emma shook her head defiantly.

“Fine, you’ve left me no choice.” He raised his shoulders. “I will have to make you watch a football match.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?” She cockily challenged him by resting her head on her palm and leaning closer. “I don’t really get pressured into things.”

“I’ll kindly ask you to come to my flat to watch a match. Food and beer will be present and in the unlikely event that you are bored, we can watch something else.”

Emma watched him. Going to his apartment, eating together, cozying it up while watching television it all seemed slightly too… well cozy. Slightly too date-like. But what choice did she have but to accept? Getting closer would mean more information and it wasn’t as if spending time with Killian would be the worst thing the world. Far from it, actually.

“Okay,” she agreed. “But you need to make sure you have beer because I don’t think I’ll survive it otherwise.”

“And people tell me I’m dramatic. But that’s a deal.”

They continued to talk about other mundane, safe stuff. What kind of movies they liked and whether London was a better place than Boston (Killian said yes, Emma said no.) Before they knew it, hours had passed and they’d both drank two drinks and she’d eaten two cupcakes (So. good.)

“I better get going,” Emma said. “I still have some groceries to do.”

She began to gather her stuff, her bag and coat on the chair, her umbrella in the corner, before standing up. Killian followed her immediately.

“I had fun today, Swan,” he told her and she couldn't help but nod along. She’d truly enjoyed the time they had spent together today, maybe even more so than last time.

“I did too.” She zipped up the zipper of her coat. “Just text me your address and when you wanna bore me to death by forcing me to watch soccer.”

“Mark my words, Emma Swan. You are going to hate how much you’ll love it.”

And the only word she could think of to describe the way he promised her that was confident. Confident and sexy.

But she refused to agree, it didn’t matter how sexy that irritating smirk was. “That’s what you think.”

“Oh, trust me. I know.”

“Bye, Jones.” She started walking away, waving to Anna as she made her way to the exit.

“Oh, and Swan,” Killian spoke just as she was about to open the door.

“Yeah?” Emma turned back to him, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“This isn’t a date,” he dared to tell her.

Emma scoffed. “You wish, Jones.”

A salacious grin as he waved her goodbye left Emma leaving with her own grin.

---------------------------------

Today is actually the three-year-anniversary of my blog and the three-year-anniversary of me writing fic so I'd like to thank you all for following me and/or reading the things I write. It means the world to me! We'll meet here again on Thursday <3

[frugalhoe]

Las Vegas - Stop #12 (2/15/19 - 2/17/19)

Jackpot Ultra Running Festival - 48 hour

My strategy was to not worry about pace.. just keep moving and to severly limit time sleeping and at the aid station.

Before the race started, I dropped off my suitcase and using my drop bag, set up my own aid station at the half way point of the course.

Quick photo with Elvis & a couple showgirls and I was off!

In an effort to avoid going out too fast, I wore extra layers at the start and began shedding layers one 2.5 mile lap at a time until I was down to shorts and a t shirt.

A little bit about the course - it was held in a park outside Vegas. The course was a horse shoe shape around a small pond. Some hills, bridge crossings, most of the course was made up of packed dirt roads but there was some cement and trail too! The diversity in terrain really helped break up the monotony of running for 48 hours straight.

After shedding my extra layers, I started falling into a nice groove. The sun was starting to come out and I began running more sections of the course. Eventually I was running almost all sections of the course for about 15 miles or so.

Despite feeling really great, I decided it was still really early in the race and dialed it back in by speed walking more sections.

Running all the downhills, dirt road and trail sections and speed walking everything else was more sustainable.

My nutrition and hydration was super on point throughout the race. I drank 5 to 10 oz of water, 2 small cups of soda and 2 Hammer electrolyte pills per lap.

I tried to plan out what to eat in the middle of my lap (i.e. before reaching the aid station). I ate tons of bean burritos and potato chips. The food was wonderful! I didn't linger at the aid stations. I mostly carried the food in my hands passing through but sometimes took a small plate of food with me when I felt I needed extra calories.

Throughout the entire race, the weather posed a big challenge. 40 mph winds, freezing rain and it even tried to snow (wtf Nevada?!).

I pushed through it all and just focused on consistently moving no matter what.

Night fall hit and I honestly really enjoy running alone in the dark. I ran a speedy 10 miles while most runners were sleeping in their cozy tents and RVs.

The course was well enough lit that I didn't feel the need to wear the headlamp back at my aid station. I dialed it back in again and added more walking in.

After about 12 hours into the race, I began using my muscle roller on my legs every lap which really helped prevent any major injuries etc.

I usually have bad swelling in my feet around mile 40 in ultras so I switched into my 8.5 size shoes around mile 45 which ended up being too early this time.

My feet were swollen but not yet swollen enough which lead to some shifting in my shoes....which lead to 2 large blisters near my heels. The strong winds started to really wear me out at this point as well. I decided a short nap in the heating tent might be worth it.

I crawled down onto a cot next to a poorly working propane outdoor heater and fell asleep. I awoke 2.5 hours later shivering. Eventually, I coaxed myself out of the tent and back on the course. The winds had died down a bit and I shuffled back to my aid station to drain the blisters on my feet and change back into my size 8 shoes (now will looser ties).

I kept moving along and continued to enjoy the peace and quiet on the course. I started listening to Pandora on my phone and was estatic when my pedometer maxed out at 99,999 steps.

I ran 47 miles the first day.

Eventually, the sun started to come up and fresh faced new runners started to gather. The second day meant other races would start - including the USTAF 100 mile national championship!

Not going to lie, it was HARD being passed by all these super fast runners when I was sleep deprived and tired. I felt self conscious and anxious. The course went from being 90 people to over 300 people 🙃.

I ate some egg burritos, pushed my hat down and just had tunnel vision...just focused on each step before me and less on people around me or what mile I was at etc.

The wind started to pick up again and more rain returned. My hat nearly blew off my head 3 or 4 times. Running the main downhill area started to become too painful so I started walking that.

I developed pinky toe blisters and made the decision to drain them and bandage them during the race. My eating and drinking was still consistent and I was still needing to take bathroom breaks (also a good sign). Muscle rolling was continuing to help and I was in good spirits.

By sun down, most of the other races had ended and the course became a lot less cluttered with runners. I felt less tense and just kept focusing on moving. I was still running some sections of the course...mostly just the dirt roads and train sections.

The race directors put on some movies at the aid station but I don't remember what movies they were.

It was cold and the rain turned into some flurries before going back to rain. After seeing other runners using trekking poles, I brought out mine to use. I had begun swerving walking and running at this point.

In addition to helping with my balance, the clacking of the poles also helped me stay awake and somewhat focused. I was running alone in the dark for the second night in a row and I hadn't slept since those 2.5 hours the previous night.

At some point during the second night (around mile 80?) I began hallucinating very badly. This is a common occurance in ultra running.

I was convinced that large chunks of the ground was lifting up and moving, blocking my path to the aid station.

I laid down on a big rock in the dark feeling lost and wondered if the other runners knew what was happening to the course 😖😓

I began shuffling from rock to bench to rock until I made it back to the aid station where I ate extra food and sat down for about 30 mins (?) until I got a better grip.

During this time I chatted with a few other runners and watched a Bolivian runner earn his 100 mile buckle. He sat down and cried and it helped inspire me to pull it together and go out and get mine too!

The pain wasn't getting any worse and I was getting another wind. I could barely run anymore so I mostly speed walked and ran the trail sections.

Someone stole my muscle roller from my aid station (never did get it back) so I wasn't able to work on my muscle soreness anymore.

I just kept pushing myself really hard and the laps kept ticking by.

The sun rose and in my final lap, I stopped a few times to really soak everything in. I had spent 48 hours on this course and my final lap was a bittersweet one. I was beyond exhausted but at the same time, I also didn't want it to stop.

I crossed the finish line and was presented two medals.

I won't say what my final mileage was but I did end up running further the second half of the race!

After the race, I ate some more food, changed into my hideous green Crocs and attended the awards ceremony.

As I was on my way to the bathroom to freshen up, I overhead some girls from my race talking about me. At first they were saying how nice I was but then it turned mean when one of them made a comment about me carrying a plate of food during the race. Another girl laughed and said that was probably why I was so fat.....

I've been running ultras for 8 or 9 years and I swear runners seem to get worse every year...

Upset, I stood in the bathroom for awhile before slowly cleaning myself up with baby wipes. I brushed my teeth and hair before changing into a clean pair of clothes.

When I left the restroom, all the girls were gone except one of the overall winners (she wasn't part of the conversation earlier). While charging our phones, we shared a really nice conversation and exchanged numbers :)

Eventually we said our goodbyes and I called an Uber to go have a celebratory brunch at the MGM Grand ✌

3/13/19

[canaryatlaw]

alright, today was pretty good. I woke up to my alarm going off at 11 like we agreed. We were considering brunch places last night and I decided the best choice was probably this little place in the historic area of town that started out as a coffeehouse and has progressed into a very good restaurant. So we got ready and headed down there. It looked a little crowded but they’re usually good at getting people seating fairly quickly, so we ended up being given a beeper thing and told they could get us in in like 5 minutes, so we stood there for like 3 before they seated us at the bar which was fine of course. They have a ton of different flavor combinations for their lattes but you can apply them to their hot chocolate too for us non-coffee drinking folks, so that’s always fun. Jess, predictably, got an omelet with avocado slices on top, and I, predictably, got their cinnamon swirl french toast, which was very good. After we finished up we headed over to the nearest Starbucks because Jess wanted like four shots of espresso, because she needed some allergy medication and wouldn’t listen to me insisting non-drowsy allergy medication works just as fucking well, but she insisted if she had the espresso it would cancel out the effects. So we got that and then went back home for a bit where she took benadryl and killed some time before going back out to the movies to see Booksmart. I know 2pm on a Sunday is not the most popular time to go see a movie, but there was literally only one other person in the theatre with us and it opened this weekend....like idk how well they’re gonna do in overall gross for opening weekend but it wasn’t an encouraging sign to say the least. The movie was good, really fucking funny and original, we very much enjoyed it. There was a point where I was trying to figure out which of the two main girls was me and which was Jess and I couldn’t really get it, and then I realized we’re not them at all, we’re those two crazy kids who go around doing stupid shit the whole movie lol. That was a satisfying conclusion. But yeah it was really good. We decided we wanted bubble tea once it was over, so I typed “bubble tea” into google maps because I’ve never actually had it in NY before, and it came up with like three places within a mile (love NY for that) so I assessed which one was best and made a decision, and we headed over there. I ended up getting a strawberry milk tea with mango jelly, and it was good, it just had kind of a bitter aftertaste kinda like somebody let tea brew too long and it turned bitter, but I mostly enjoyed it. We returned to the house and watched some episodes of Nailed It for a bit before eating dinner with my parents. At this point, unsurprisingly, Jess was very tired and wanted to take a benadryl nap, so she ended up napping for like two hours, during which I pretty much just chilled out with my parents and didn’t really do anything. I decided to wake her up at like 8:15 because I knew if she slept too late she wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, so I woke her up and we decided we wanted caramel apples, so we found the nearest place that had them which was in the cute touristy town that’s down by the water and very beachy which is next to mine. the store itself is actually a chain and has a location around the corner from where I went to law school, they have excellent ice cream and after they opened during my last year many ice cream trips were spent there. So we drove over to there and found a parking spot, then walked over to the store and obtained our caramel apples, which we ate while continuing to walk around. It was pretty nice out today overall, but it did rain for a little bit earlier so it was slightly muggy from that, but overall still nice. The caramel apples were excellent, so we walked around and I pointed out different things until we had finished our apples and we headed back home. At this point Jess went to take a shower, and then we watched a few more episodes of Nailed It until it was time to check in for our flight for tomorrow night, and after doing that I got in the shower, and I returned just as the last episode of Nailed It finished (I had already watched it earlier in the week so I didn’t miss anything). And yeah, since then we’ve pretty much just been chilling in the back room not particularly tired, I took my meds after I showered so I’m getting some tiredness start to creep in now but it’s still pretty gradual right now. But, it’s still 11:45 pm and I should probably try to fall asleep, so I am going to attempt to do that now. Goodnight lovelies. Enjoy your (hopefully off from work if you’re in the US) Monday/Memorial Day!